Chapter 25

1st of September 1991

Hogwarts

Draco Malfoy stepped off the Hogwarts Express with an air of superiority, his pale blond hair glinting in the fading sunlight. Behind him, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle—sons of his father's clients—plodded along, their heavy steps echoing Draco's lighter, more confident stride. The platform buzzed with the excitement and chatter of first-year students, but Draco remained aloof, lifting his chin in a gesture of haughty disdain he had learned from watching his father. Heh. All that practice in front of the mirror paid. Father would be proud.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" A booming voice rang out, cutting through the clamor. Draco's eyes narrowed as he saw the source: a giant of a man with a wild beard and untamed hair. "Name's Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. And, from this year, I'm also the Keeper of Socks and Hentai Vault, though I've no idea what that is. Follow me!"

Draco's lips curled into a scowl. Hagrid—a half-giant. His father had often spoken of Hagrid with contempt, and though Draco didn't fully understand why, he mimicked the scorn. If Lucius Malfoy scowled, so would his son. Signaling to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco moved towards Hagrid, maintaining an air of disdain - in truth, he just looked like he directly bit into lemon. The path they followed twisted through dense, shadowy woods, the towering trees forming a dark canopy overhead. The underbrush rustled with the movements of unseen creatures, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. Despite his outward composure, Draco felt a thrill of anticipation. This was the beginning of his Hogwarts journey, and though he would never admit it, he was both excited and nervous. At least ! He would become a real wizard, and Mother and Father would be proud ! He would find himself his own clients, without the help from his parents!

They emerged from the trees at the edge of a vast, inky-black lake. A fleet of small boats bobbed gently in the water, each one looking just big enough to hold four students. "No more'n four to a boat! And you, the fat one ! You go alone, or else, the boat will sink! " Hagrid called out, his voice carrying easily over the water.

Draco climbed into a boat, followed closely by Crabbe, Goyle, and a timid-looking girl with mousy brown hair. Hmph…Probably a muggle-born. Father hated them. He said they threatened their social position - so he knew his Father invented stories for the masses to believe about them. Convenient scapegoats, he called them, though Draco did not know which type of goat a scapegoat was. The boats, enchanted, began to glide smoothly across the lake, propelled by an invisible force.

The surface of the lake was like polished obsidian, reflecting the starlit sky above. Draco sat with his back straight, trying to maintain his indifferent facade, though his heart raced with excitement. The cool night air was filled with the gentle sound of water lapping against the boats and the soft whispers of awe from the other they neared the center of the lake, the silhouette of Hogwarts castle came into view. Draco's breath caught in his throat despite himself. The castle rose majestically from the cliffs, a fortress of ancient stone with countless windows glowing warmly in the night. Towers and turrets jutted into the sky, and the whole structure seemed to hum with a timeless magic. Draco had seen many grand buildings, but nothing quite like this.

He stole a glance at Crabbe and Goyle—sons of his father's clients—who were gawking openly, their mouths slightly agape. Draco quickly composed himself, schooling his features into a mask of cool detachment. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not gape. The boats drifted towards a small landing stage, where Hagrid stood waiting, having already arrived a few seconds before, his lantern casting a warm light over the students as they disembarked. Draco stepped out of the boat with deliberate grace, his polished shoes making a soft tap on the wooden planks.

"Firs' years, this way!" Hagrid's voice boomed once more as he led them up a steep, narrow path towards the castle. The gravel crunched underfoot, and the mingled scents of the lake and night air filled Draco's nostrils. He followed, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

The massive wooden doors of the castle loomed ahead, their ancient timbers a testament to centuries of magic and history. As they drew closer, Draco couldn't resist another glance at the imposing structure. Up close, it was even more awe-inspiring, its ancient stone walls radiating power and mystery. Flanking the entrance were four majestic statues, each more peculiar than the last: a swordsman with three swords, one gripped between his teeth; a man in a suit, casually lighting a cigarette as if he had all the time in the world; a bizarre fish-like monster; and a skeleton with a hat perched jauntily on its head. Strange, Draco thought, and somehow unfitting for a place like this. He straightened his shoulders, ready to step into the legacy that awaited him, determined to leave his mark on this storied place.

As they reached the entrance, Hagrid turned to address the group. "Welcome to Hogwarts. From here, Professor McGonagall will take over. Best of luck to all of ye."

Draco followed the other first-years into the vast, echoing entrance hall. The ceiling seemed impossibly high, and the flickering torches cast long shadows that danced across the stone walls. He stood with Crabbe and Goyle, trying to look as composed as possible while he waited for whatever came next.

Suddenly, a boy's voice rang out in joy. "Trevor! I found him!" Neville Longbottom, holding a toad aloft, looked absurdly pleased with himself. Draco scoffed internally. Longbottom. His father had told him to make the boy's life difficult if he could, as Longbottom's aunt was one of his father's rivals. Rival! As if anyone could truly rival Lucius Malfoy.

Draco scanned the hall, his eyes landing on a bushy-haired girl who was chattering animatedly to anyone who would listen. She was explaining something in a high-pitched, overly enthusiastic voice.

"And this hall, you see, has been here since the founding of Hogwarts over a thousand years ago! It's made of stones that were probably just lying around, but some say that the floor tiles were actually imported from a mysterious shop that sold only enchanted doorknobs! Did you know that the ceiling is enchanted to look like a giant pancake on special occasions? Oh, and there's a portrait of a duck named Horace somewhere around here, though I haven't seen it myself yet. It's said to depict—"

Draco rolled his eyes as the one he would know under the name of Hermione Granger, She-Who-Answers-All-The-Questions-And-Raise-Her-Hand-Too-Much-Depriving-Thusly-Others-Of-Critical-Learning-Opportunities, continued her exceptionally long-winded and completely useless history of the entrance hall, complete with tangents about the specific shades of paint used on the walls and the rumored secret passageways that led to the kitchens. Her voice was frantic and sugar-high, spilling out facts and details at a breakneck pace.

"—and of course, the architect was a wizard named Ferdinand the Fickle, who supposedly designed the great hall to be the perfect spot for playing gobstones! Not that they hold tournaments here or anything, but I read in Hogwarts: A History that—"

Draco tuned her out, casting a disdainful glance at Crabbe and Goyle, who were doing the same. Then he turned and his eyes fell upon Harry Potter. Harry Freaking Potter, the Boy Who Lived, stood there with his untidy black hair and lightning-bolt scar. Next to him was Ronald Weasley, the boy who ate, currently stuffing his face with something he must have stolen from the train. Because Weasleys were poor. Hehe. It was a fun joke. And it was clear that nobody had taught Draco yet about class struggle. Draco felt a strange surge of emotions as he looked at Harry. Curiosity, jealousy, and an intense desire to make a strong impression. This was the boy everyone talked about, the one who had defeated the Dark Lord as a baby. Draco clenched his jaw, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. He was a Malfoy, and he was determined to make his presence known.

Suddenly, the hall filled with collective gasps as the air grew colder and translucent figures began to glide through the walls.

"Behold these fresh-faced fools!" bellowed a particularly rotund ghost with a wide grin. "I wonder if they hath any wit rattling about in those noggins!" His voice boomed like an echo through the hall.

A lean, skeletal ghost with a raspy voice floated forward, shaking his head. "Ha! Wit? I doubt they hath enough to fill a cauldron! But they'll suffice, I suppose."

As a medieval knight ghost passed by, he added with a flourish of his ghostly sword, "I give them a sennight ere someone attempts to duel a broomstick. Mark mine words!"

"Oh, the drama! The excitement! The utter chaos! I love it already!" She clasped her transparent hands together in glee.

"Ridiculous," muttered a grumpy ghost with chains rattling around him. "Thou call this chaos? Thou should'st have seen the students when they thought Flobberworm Stew was the new potion of the week."

The rotund ghost floated closer to the grumpy one, his expression sour. "Canst thou believe Dumbledore changed the house ghosts this year? Utter nonsense! We had a good thing going!"

"Tradition out the window," the grumpy ghost agreed, his chains clinking as he moved. "What's next, poltergeists running the classes?"

At that moment, Peeves the poltergeist burst into the hall, cackling madly. He zoomed through the air, tossing water balloons filled with something suspiciously green and slimy. Students screamed and ducked as the balloons exploded, covering them in goo. "Welcome, firsties!" Peeves yelled gleefully. Peeves then cackled one last time before somersaulting out of the hall, leaving chaos in his wake.

Draco smirked at the commotion, finding it all quite entertaining. But his gaze soon fell back on Harry Potter, who was looking around with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by the spectral display. Draco took a deep breath and, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him like hulking bodyguards, approached the famous boy.

"Harry Potter," Draco said smoothly, extending a hand. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

Harry's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh, hi, cousin!"

Draco blinked, taken aback. "Huh? You knew?"

Before Draco could react further, Harry eagerly stepped forward and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Draco reddened and spluttered, his aristocratic composure rapidly crumbling.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Draco stammered, struggling to keep his balance as Harry hugged him tightly. "Get off me!"

Harry pulled back slightly but kept his hands on Draco's shoulders, beaming at him. "I can't believe it! I didn't know I'd have family here. This is brilliant!"

Draco's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish out of water. "I-I didn't mean... I mean, we're not really—"

Ron, standing nearby with a bemused look, piped up. "Oi, Harry, I think you're scaring him."

Draco seized the moment to regain his composure. He took a deep breath and, still slightly red in the face, turned to Ron, then back to Harry. "You'll find some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

Harry's expression softened with sympathy. "Aww, Draco, you don't have to put yourself down like that. I'm sure you're a good bloke! If you have trouble making friends, I can help you."

Draco spluttered, his indignation reaching new heights. "I-I wasn't talking about me! I was talking about…!"

Before he could finish his explanation on how he had wanted to be an asshole, Professor McGonagall appeared, looking extremely tired and frazzled. Her hair was slightly askew, and her stern expression was softened by weary eyes. She had a strong Scottish accent.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, first years," she began, taking a swig from a small flask that she quickly tucked back into her robes. Harry suspected it was whisky. "Follow me, and for Merlin's sake, keep up. I'm not here to babysit. Blasted Albus and his grand ideas," she muttered under her breath.

The first years exchanged nervous glances but obediently fell into line behind her. McGonagall led them through the grand entrance hall, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor.

"Stick close, now," she called over her shoulder. "Ye don't want to be gettin' lost in this castle on yer first night. It's got more secrets than a drunken house-elf of a pureblood house."

Draco shot Harry a bewildered glance, still trying to process the strange encounter. Harry, oblivious to Draco's confusion, smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry, Draco. We'll figure it out together."

"Figure it out?" Draco hissed, trying to maintain his dignity. "I don't need your help, Potter!"

Harry chuckled, patting Draco on the back. "Oh, come on, Draco. We're family now. What could go wrong?"

Draco reddened further, utterly speechless, while Crabbe and Goyle exchanged confused looks. McGonagall continued to lead the way, grumbling softly about Dumbledore's unconventional methods and the chaos they always seemed to bring.

As they stepped into the Great Hall, the collective intake of breath from the first years was almost audible. Harry's eyes widened in amazement, and the other children couldn't help but marvel at the sight before them. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the night sky, complete with twinkling stars and drifting clouds, making the hall feel vast and magical. Four long tables, filled with students, stretched the length of the room, each house seated beneath their respective banners. At the head of the hall, a raised platform held the staff table, where the professors sat.

"Blimey," Harry breathed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "It's like we're outside!"

"Absolutely stunning," Hermione whispered beside him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As they continued to file in, Draco noticed the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were seated with expressions that looked like they had just seen a ghost—or possibly Peeves wearing a tutu.

"What the bloody hell?" Fred muttered, looking pale.

Ron, walking just ahead of Harry, came to a sudden halt. "What the fuck?" he echoed, staring in disbelief at the head table.

At the center of the head table sat Albus Dumbledore, but he looked nothing like the elderly wizard everyone knew. Instead, he appeared to be around thirty-five, with a neatly kept beard and a simple shirt that showed off muscular forearms. The sheer power emanating from him was almost physical, making the students shiver with awe. A few seats away from him, sitting at the usual place of Filch, beaming with delight, was Molly Weasley. She looked incredibly happy, her face glowing with pride and satisfaction.

"Is that... Mum?" Ron managed to squeak, his voice cracking with shock.

Dumbledore stood up, a broad smile on his face. "Good evening, everyone," he began, his voice echoing warmly through the hall. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. We have many exciting things in store for you all."

He paused, letting the students' curiosity grow. "And I have many new things to announce," he continued, his eyes twinkling with barely contained mischief. "But first..."

With a dramatic flourish, Dumbledore reached beneath the table and pulled out a beret adorned with googly eyes that wobbled and jiggled with every movement.

Chapter published two days early as I'm not sure I'll have a computer available Sunday.
Can you guess who the new house ghosts are going to be ?