Hi folks. I know I'm primarily a Descendants Writer nowadays, but once upon a time I was primarily a Harry Potter writer, and I think it's a crime I've not got anything good up in the fandom. Everything I wrote ages ago is very… immature to me. I can't read it without cringing.
So here's a story called the Bane of Hogwarts, which I've been thinking of writing since 2013 now. I have moved the universe forward in time. Everything is exactly as it was, except 28 years forward. It just makes Dumbledore a little older. Everyone else's birthdays moves forward. The entire thing is already written and so you don't need to worry about me dropping off. Updates on Tuesdays.
THIS STORY IS WRITTEN IN BRITISH ENGLISH. Don't panic! Defence is not misspelled!

Chapter One - For Your Protection

Draco

"I've never seen anything this wonderful before."

The words left his mouth with a reverent, hushed tone. How privileged were they, to be able to see a sight hidden from the view of thousands around the world? To feel the feelings only a select few believed were possible? Views and feelings that some, like that bucktoothed Muggleborn girl, hadn't even known were possible last year?

Draco found frustration rising inside him as he heard the voice of the girl in question from her boat – a good thirty feet away. Her voice had the most obnoxious quality of getting stuck in one's ear. Now she was saying, "something solid and very powerful and old…" but then, miraculously, the waves cut over her tone and her voice was gone.

Hogwarts Castle rose up as if it were an extension of the scenery. As if the hill it was perched upon had decided it needed to exist and had willed it into life. For all he knew, the school could have built itself that morning, knowing that it was September the first and students would be arriving today.

The boats glissaded across the waves and came to an even stop on the edge of the lake. Draco stepped out with grace, his chin high, and his resting expression – a smirk – falling into place. The stones were slippery, but the traction on his shoes held out as he walked. Up ahead, the Weasley his age didn't have such luck. He slipped on a wet stone and narrowly avoided eating a face full of pebbles. He opened his mouth for a cutting remark, then noticed the black-haired boy beside the Weasley. Harry Potter. He shut his mouth. For as much as Harry had offended him on the train, the Boy-Who-Lived could be a great ally. Draco was willing to hate him, but it would be better if they actually could get along.

Potter was saying, as Draco passed, "They'll come back to haunt you one more," which sounded interesting until he heard Weasley retort, "Yeah, they'll never let me hear the end of it!" and Draco realized they must be talking about the chaotic twin Weasley boys.

They trudged up the path, the feeling of magic getting stronger. They all could feel it. Even that big oaf, Hagrid, seemed enchanted by it. He moved to the front of the group as they approached the castle, and then knocked loudly, three times. Draco, who was still walking, put his foot down in a bed of clover, and a bunch of brilliant yellow lights sprang up from the foliage. Lightning bugs, which rose quickly into the air and took off, eliciting a few ooh's and aah's from the students. Draco watched them go.

A warm wind blew in from across the lake suddenly and a soft voice said nearby, "and take the price you paid most to hold."

Draco looked around, but no one seemed to have spoken. No one seemed to notice the voice, except for that big oaf, who stared at him. "What'd you say?" he asked, towering nearby like another imposing doorway.

Draco straightened his shoulders. "I didn't say anything!"

The large man stroked his beard. His black beetle eyes examined Draco. Then the doors finally opened, and a tall, imposing woman in green stood. Not nearly as tall as the man, but with a character that did make Draco want to straighten up, just for a moment.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall gave them a once over and directed them into the hall. After they passed, the large man turned and lumbered back towards his hut, waiting for him down the hill. Draco was not sorry to see him go.

They walked through some undecorated stone corridors, to a very large set of doors behind which stood the Great Hall. Draco had never seen it, but he knew all the same. After a few minutes of waiting, they were led inside.

A very old man in bright yellow robes sat at the head of a very wide table. Draco and the other first years walked down an aisle formed by two of the house tables – Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs were particularly friendly. Draco couldn't imagine why. He'd die if he were put into Hufflepuff.

Draco's first glimpse of the Sorting Hat did not help him recognise it as a hat. He'd been told it belonged to Godric Gryffindor, as if Gryffindor needed another magical item after the sword. It really should have belonged to Slytherin. That would have been a much better representation of the balance between the houses.

He had been expecting a hat, but it seemed more like a clump of fabric that fell in on itself. Draco wasn't excited to have it on his head. And that was before it started singing. When it was done, the entire hall clapped and cheered, as if it wasn't the worst combination of rhymes Draco had ever heard.

Professor McGonagall stood straight beside a stool and picked up the hat. "When I call your name, please come and sit upon this chair and we will sort you into your houses," she said. "Hannah Abott."

Draco knew the Abott family. A pureblood family, but this one – Hannah – was a half-blood. He wrinkled his nose as the hat settled on her head and did not feel any pity when she was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff.

As Professor McGonagall called names, Draco could almost tell where people were going to go before they went there. Susan Bones also went to Hufflepuff – no surprise there – and then Terry Boot to Ravenclaw. Draco kept track on his fingers of which guesses he had correct. He was doing pretty well – six to two – when Crabbe jumped and pointed. A ghost had floated through the wall behind the headmaster – the man in yellow robes.

Draco nodded at the ghost. "They're the house ghosts," he said. "Four spirits, to create four homes."

The Muggleborn girl in front of them turned and nodded excitedly. Draco thought she was going to begin her sentence the way she had begun the last five sentences. "In Hogwarts, a History…" but instead, she seemed so excited that the words tumbled all misshapen out of her mouth. "In war and peace, for truth is bold," she said, then stopped to look confused. At least she'd finally noticed that nothing she said made sense. Fortunately, before she could say anything else, her name was called.

Draco watched her squirm on the chair. She was going to get put in Ravenclaw. He was sure of it.

But they waited. Nothing happened. A hatstall.

Maybe they would send her home now?

Harry Potter whispered behind Draco to Weasley, "My Aunt Petunia would never let that hat in the house."

"It's the Sorting Hat. A powerful magical object."

"She'd put me in the cupboard under the stairs for just a bit of dirt."

"Harsh."

"From broken bodies to powerful stones."

A strange way to describe Hogwarts.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat bellowed, loud enough to make Draco jump. Luckily, the sound of his shoes hitting the floor was masked by everyone clapped enthusiastically.

Draco continued counting on his fingers. It was almost his turn. He already knew where he would go. It wouldn't be a surprise. It was just a matter of where everyone else in front of him would go. Gryffindor… Slytherin… Gryffindor again. Then finally, "Draco Malfoy".

He stood up, eleven to three on his fingers(just his right index finger keeping track of the eleven) and sat on the chair. The hat settled on his head.

"Draco Malfoy," the hat said in his mind. "I can't put you where you need to go."

That startled Draco more than the hat's yell had. He felt all the blood go to his toes. "I want to go to Slytherin."

"Exactly. Now think about why you want to go to Slytherin."

He couldn't. All the blood was coagulated in his head.

"We're going to put you there now, for your protection, but we'll discuss this later. Better be… SLYTHERIN!"

Draco stood up, feeling weak in the knees. The hat had not yet been lifted from his head. Before it left, a message that was not in the voice of the hat went through his ears. "And all four backgrounds, as in old."

The hat was lifted off his head. He felt as if hours had passed. But everyone cheered as if it'd only been a few seconds. He trudged to the Slytherin table as if he were dragging weights. He sat down beside the other kids in his year. "How long did that take?" he asked. One kid shrugged. "Eh, about a minute."

"Felt like ages." Draco looked down at his empty plate. A sick feeling was churning in his stomach. He was where he had wanted to go… but did the Sorting Hat think he didn't belong here?

The next chapter will be called The Clean Parchment