Chapter Text
It was getting dark. Harry Potter sat in his compartment and wondered what Hogwarts would finally be like. He and his new friend Ron Weasley had just changed into their new robes after the blond boy he’d met earlier in Diagon Alley, Draco Malfoy left with his two bodyguard-of-a-friends, leaving behind a bad impression. He’d also met Hermione Granger, the witch who’d been looking for the toad and seemed to already know all of Hogwarts. Trutfully Harry was a bit jealous of her, to know so much when he knew next to nothing. He wanted to know more, so so much more.
His thinking got interrupted when the door to the compartment once again flew open just as an announcement was made that they’d be nearing Hogwarts soon. Now there stood a raven haired girl, her hair was much like his own - except it wasn’t unruly. No, it fell down to her shoulders in light wavy curls much more controlled than Hermione’s had been. This girl was the epitome of neat and tidy, no hair in disarray or a black spot on her nose, like Ron’s had been. But she, on her own right was something different - for she stood there seething, obviously furious at something, her grey eyes gleaming as she drew in a calming breath and looked straight at them.
“Can I sit here? For the rest of the ride. Not that there’s much of it left”, she asked politely, all anger gone now.
He and Ron were both equally stupefied and only numbly nodded their consent. “Great”, the girl said and promptly sat down. After that.. she did nothing of anything, really. Just sat there, seemingly in her own thoughts, occasional flicker of anger flashing by in her eyes. Harry studied her curiously for a few seconds before exchanging bewildered looks with Ron. The red head cleared his throat and asked: “Are you a first year too? I’m Ron Weasley.”
At that the girl looked up and studied them both, seemingly for the first time, before answering with a smile. “As a matter of fact, I am. A pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry at my suddennes, but there were certain.. circumstances before. I’m Mariyah, but call me Riya, I like it better.”
The smile she showed them made her a different person altogether from the one earlier. Now she seemed to have a softer side to her, warm and gentle. Harry wondered which one was the real as he, too, smiled at her and said: “A pleasure. I’m Harry.”
Leaving his last name out was intentional, as the girl, Mariyah, had done the same. Also the other encounters had proved that his name, last name, more specifically, had a differing effect on people. He wanted to be known as ‘Harry’, not the Boy Who Lived. She seemed to notice this, too, as her replying smile was wide and her eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Harry and Ron it is, then. Which subject do you wish to attend the most? I believe Charms are very interesting, as well as Transfiguration. I’ve had a lot of accidental magic as I grew up and therefore wish to study more uses in it now”, Mariyah told them, more relaxed now that they accepted her last-nameness so easily.
“I know what I want the least”, Ron said scowling at the thought, “Potions!” Harry could only sit and try to remember what all the subjects even were.
Luckily the corridor was gradually filling with students as the train was coming to a halt and their conversation was stilled. They all got up and moved into to the crowd.
Harry felt his stomach lurch and he swallowed as they descended the stairs to the platform. Mariyah walking next to him seemed calm and smiled at him brightly as their eyes locked. Harry smiled back, although much feebler, to which the witch only smirked playfully and hopped down. Cool air met them in the darkness where even seeing the ones next to you was difficult. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
Mariyah shot him a curious look at the familiarity but kept silent.
"C'mon, follow me -- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Blackness engulfed them as they started down the deep and narrow path, traveling behind Hagrid, whose lamp was the only light they had. It was slippery because of the rain and they stumbled and slipped dangerously while stepping forth.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!"
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.
He saw how Mariyah shared one with Malfoy and his cronies and frowned slightly as she smiled at the blonde cheerfully. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat all to himself. "Right then -- FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. Harry was glad the boy'd found his toad. He knew he wouldn't want to lose Hedwig no matter what. Luckily she was a bird, so losng her would prove hard.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
The door opened and there, waiting for them was an old woman with spectacles and a high pun, who seemed strict with her stark aura. She reckoned them to follow her and they did, Mariyah falling into step beside him and Ron again.
As Harry watched around he noticed them all giving each other curious looks, not yet knowing anyone. But he also saw how many of them were directed towards the pretty girl next to him.
The woman was Professor McGonagall and she told them about the four houses Harry had gratefully already heard of and briefly explained the coming Sorting Ceremony and some customs about the honor of the school and not to break them.
Harry could only hope he wouldn’t. Rules and him didn’t always seem to agree to the same terms.
After McGonagall left them at a room to wait, Harry asked Ron how the Sorting would go, but the redhead didn’t seem to know that well either. More so, it made him even more anxious. One more surprise came in the form of ghosts before Professor McGonagall came to them again. Harry had never seen one and stared, amazed, as did all the others.
Finally their time came and the eleven year olds were escorted into a magnificent great hall, fittingly named the Great Hall. The ceiling was one of stars and seemed real. Many gasps were heard as they traveled beneath it. Hermione murmured excitedly that it was enchanted, that she’d read it in Hogwarts: History.
At the other side of the hall was a staff table in front of which lay an old hat. It gave him a fright when it started singing all of the sudden. It explained that they’ll be sorted into houses by the said hat, the Sorting Hat, and Professor McGonagall added that they were to come up as their name was stated.
Nervousness started to grasp him again as people lined up one after one.
Susan Bones was sorted into Hufflebuff, Terry Boot to Ravenclaw and many others to different houses. Hermione went to Gryffindor, as she’d said and soon it was Malfoy’s turn, who expectedly went to Slytherin, the hat barely touching his blond hair.
Next thing he knew McGonagall was calling “Potter, Harry”, and the whole Great Hall erupted into whispers.
Suddenly, as he was about to step forward, a hand snapped to his and Harry turned to look back at the paled face of Mariyah. Her eyes were round and stunned, if also angry with a mixture of betrayal.
“You’re Harry Potter?” she exclaimed in a strange voice and all Harry could do was nod before professor McGonagall had to call for him again.
Still perplexed by Mariyah’s sudden behaviour, Harry sat down deep in his thoughts and was startled when a voice sounded in his head. “Hmm.. Difficult, Very difficult”, it went on, apparently examining him. Harry heard it and forgot about Mariyah at that instant, ready to hear what the hat had to say.
He wouldn’t share a house with Malfoy, that was for sure. The hat, to his horror, though, seemed to think just along those lines. Not Slytherin, not slytherin, Harry repeated in hopes of not going to slytherin and somehow, magically, the hat seemed to listen. “-better be - GRYFFINDOR!” it bellowed and Harry opened his eyes to the Great Hall, smiling widely, to meet the plank face of a raven haired girl staring at him lifelessly. That if nothing tore the smile from his face.
Nonetheless, he walked to the Gryffindor table in time to hear the professor call the next name: “Quirrell, Mariyah.” He swiveled back and stared as the girl in his train compartment went up the steps, sat down and stared ahead - but Harry doubted she actually registered anything.
The hat dropped near her, but without even touching a hair on her head it shouted ‘SLYTHERIN!’.
It was even faster than with Malfoy, Harry noticed, numbly. His gaze went from Mariyah to the staff table, where he spotted professor Quirrell, watching intently as the girl with the same surname went to the hollering Slytherin table. She couldn't be the daughter of such a stuttering, frightened man, could she? Harry thought finally as his attention was turned back when Ron soon followed him to the Gryffindor table.
“Didn’t take her as a snake”, his redheaded friend muttered under his breath as they started shoveling food onto their plates in the otherwise cheery atmosphere, “Apparently I was wrong.”
Harry wondered why Ron’s voice sounded so resigned and asked: “Are all Slytherins really so bad? I thought she was nice.”
Ron snorted and shoved a potato into his mouth. “Maybe she was okay in the train, but once she heard your name? Didn’t even look at you anymore. That’s nice to you, Harry?” Ron said, his voice muffled.
Harry fell silent and thought to the moment she'd snatched his hand. Why was there betrayal in her eyes, why anger?
He turned to look at the Slytherin table and saw all the first years huddled together, a black head sitting next to a silvery blonde one.
Not looking at him.
But she wasn’t looking at anyone else either, for that matter.
Harry turned back to his plate and caught the eyes of Hagrid, who grinned at him. He returned the smile and saw another pair of eyes flicker to his. Professor Quirrell turned his gaze from the Slytherin table to Harry and he could feel the pondering going on in that turbaned head. But it didn't end there, for one other teacher was watching him, hard black eyes fixed on him. The man in question wore all black and had lanky black hair. Somehow Harry felt the gaze wasn’t friendly. He turned to Ron to ask who the man was but got the answer from one of his twins: Professor Snape, the Potions master.
As the feast ended, they all got up, ready to head to bed after a long day. The prefects called to them and they followed. Moving to the doors, Harry turned his gaze once again towards the Slytherin table and its first years. He saw the back of Mariyah’s head as she moved with the others and couldn’t help but wonder just who she was. She was peculiar to say the least. And pretty, some little voice in his head added. The pretties first year there was.
And for some reason, as all the others seemed to think him amazing for feats he didn’t even remember doing, much less comprehending, she seemed not to.
More so, anger, betrayal.. for not telling her? For simply that, or something more? Harry didn’t know, and it made him restless, his curiosity picked.
Mariyah Quirrell, a Slytherin, who seemed not like a pureblood like Malfoy but still more of a Slytherin than the pompous brat.
Curious, he certainly was, as his thoughts swirled around even in the comforting warmth of his bed, inside his new home, his first real home: Hogwarts.