Chapter Text
September 1, 1991
Sunday
Welcome to Hogwarts
Harry stared out the window, watching as his family got smaller and smaller as the Hogwarts Express took him away from London and towards his new life at Hogwarts. He felt a bit nervous and began to wonder where Hermione and Draco were. Honestly, he’d be happy to see anyone he knew right now, but he thought he’d seen Hermione and Draco on the platform and was hoping that they, or at least one of them, would find him on the train so they could sit together.
“Excuse me? Can I sit here?” A red headed boy opened the door to the compartment and Harry nodded.
“Sure.” He replied, peering out into the corridor, wondering where Hermione was. Harry was starting to worry that she’d had trouble getting to King’s Cross today.
“Who’re you looking for?” The redhead boy asked.
“Oh. Sort of a cousin of my guardian. She’s been a bit nervous about starting Hogwarts.” Harry said and the redhead boy shrugged.
“I’m sure you’ll see her eventually.” He said, and Harry felt himself relaxing at the other boy’s casual attitude. “I’m Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.”
“I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” Harry said, sticking out his hand to shake Ron’s.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted out and Harry nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable with Ron’s scrutiny. “Have you really got—you know…” Ron asked, pointing at Harry’s forehead. Harry brushed his bangs down over the scar that still remained on his forehead, even though his family had helped him killed the shard of Voldemort’s soul that had latched onto him last year.
“Er…yeah. I don’t really like to think about it.” Harry replied and Ron blushed bright red.
“Sorry.” Ron sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, looked quickly out the window again.
“So, what house do you think you’ll be in?” Harry asked, trying to break the awkward silence. Ron turned back to look at him.
“Well, all my family’s in Gryffindor, so I guess I’d like to go there.” Ron replied with a shrug.
“Do you have a very large family?” Harry asked and Ron looked rather gloomy.
“Five older brothers and one younger sister.” Ron answered with a frown. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts and I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left—Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old clothes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.” Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rate, which was asleep. “His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff—I mean, I got Scabbers instead.”
Ron’s ears went pink. He seemed to think that he’d said too much because he went back to staring out the window. Harry thought he remembered Charlie Weasley as a friend of Tonks' who had come to one of his birthday parties, but he figured that it would be rude to bring that up now, after Ron’s rant. He also didn’t think that there was anything wrong with not having a lot of money. He knew that Sirius’s family had a lot of money, but they didn’t flash it around and he still had to do chores and help out around the house. Not like Draco.
“I don’t have a pet at all.” Harry said. “Sirius and Zel, well, Zel really, said that until I can keep my room tidy, I can’t have a familiar.” Harry said with a shrug.
“Zel?” Ron asked.
“Yeah. Sirius is my godfather and Zel is his wife. They have a daughter and are about to have another baby. I’ll miss the birth, though.” Harry said, frowning.
“Oh. Right. You’re living with the Blacks.” Ron said.
“Yeah. They’re really great, but Zel can be strict about school and chores.” Harry said with a grin and Ron smiled back.
“Well, I guess Scabbers is better than nothing.” Ron said, poking the rat with his finger before placing him on the seat beside him. Scabbers just rolled over into a patch of sunlight. “We can share if you’d like?” He asked and Harry grinned again. They quickly got into conversation about their favorite Quidditch teams, all awkwardness and nervousness forgotten. Harry followed Puddlemere United while Ron was an ardent fan of the Chudley Cannons and they had a spirited debate about which team was better, regardless of their records.
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?”
Harry leapt up in excitement. Sirius had given him some galleons to spend on treats for the ride. Zel had rolled her eyes and made him promise that he would eat something other than chocolate. Harry looked back at Ron and noticed that Ron’s ears went pink as he muttered that he’d brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor and found all of his favorite candies; buying an extraordinary amount of chocolate frogs, some Bertie Botts Beans, and a few pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes. With a grin, he stumbled back into the compartment with his arms full of sweets, pleased with his purchases and grinning at the thought that he had bought some that didn’t have chocolate so he wouldn’t be breaking his promise.
“Hungry, are you?” Ron asked.
“Starving,” Harry replied, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.
Ron took out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”
“Swap you for one of these,” Harry said holding up a pasty. “Go on—”
“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.”
“I promised Zel that I’d eat something not-chocolate on the ride.” Harry said with a shrug. “And I know that she didn’t really mean a pumpkin pasty. So, it would be good if we could share.” Ron shrugged, but passed Harry half of the sandwiches while taking a pumpkin pasty. They were soon eating happily and debating whether Agrippa (the chocolate frog card Ron got) could beat Cliodna (the card Harry got) in a duel.
“Harry! There you are!” Hermione said, bursting into the compartment as Harry passed Ron another chocolate frog.
“Hermione!” Harry said, standing up to help clear a spot for her to sit down. He saw Neville standing behind her, looking rather nervous. “And Neville! I’m glad that you found us. C’mon, we’ve got tons of sweets.”
“Harry, I hope you ate something other than chocolate frogs!” Hermione exclaimed, taking a seat. Harry grinned at her.
“’Course. Ron brought sandwiches.” Harry said, gesturing to Ron.
“Oh. Hello.” Hermione said, as though noticing Ron for the first time. Ron turned bright red.
“Erm, Hermione, this is Ron. He’s a first year, like us. Ron, this Hermione, my sort of cousin and Neville.” Harry said, breaking in before either Ron or Hermione could insult each other.
“Hi.” Ron said, rather sullenly. Neville looked anxiously between the three other occupants of the compartment.
“Well, help yourself to the sweets. I got a little bit of everything, really.” Harry said. Hermione opened her mouth to scold him on his poor eating habits, but Neville spoke up first.
“Oh! Licorice wands! Those are my favorite.” He said with a shy smile. Harry grinned and pushed them towards Neville.
“Mine’s chocolate frogs.” Harry said as Neville bit into a licorice wand.
“The chocolate isn’t as good as Cadbury.” Hermione said absently, sifting through the pile of sweets, looking for a sugar quill. Uncle Sirius had got her sugar quills last time they went to Diagon Alley and she had rather liked them.
“True. But the cards are fun.” Harry said with a shrug.
“What’s Cadbury?” Ron asked.
“Oh, it’s a muggle chocolate.” Harry said.
“It’s a muggle brand of chocolate.” Hermione replied, taking a seat, disappointed that there were no sugar quills. Harry shrugged.
“I guess. But they don’t have cards with famous witches and wizards.” Harry pointed out and Hermione sniffed in response.
“Muggle? Have you been living in the muggle world?” Ron asked, curious about Harry but intent on ignoring Hermione.
“Sort of. Sirius and Zel, they sent me to Muggle school for primary since there’s no wizard primary school. They thought I would have more fun with other kids.” Harry said. He looked over at Hermione who had crossed her arms in annoyance and was looking out the window.
“Why don’t we play exploding snap?” Neville asked. He hated the weird tension that had settled on the four of them and he wanted to enjoy his first trip on the Hogwarts Express. He was rather worried that it would be his last trip. What if he didn’t have enough magic to get sorted into a house? Or what if he got sorted but then ended up failing everything because he was practically a squib?
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all agreed to play the game and Neville pulled his pack of cards out of his pocket. Soon they were laughing and shouting as the cards exploded and the countryside continued to roll past the windows. It grew darker as time passed, unnoticed by the four children as they played card games, ate sweets, and talked nervously about what they expected at Hogwarts. Before they knew it, a voice echoed through the train, interrupting their conversations: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”
Harry’s stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. The three boys crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets, causing Hermione to roll her eyes at them. They all joined the crowd in the corridor as the train slowed down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a voice call out: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”
The largest man that he had ever seen beamed at them over the sea of heads.
“C’mon, follow me- any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” Slipping and stumbling, they followed him down what seemed to be a steep narrow path. “Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” their guide called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”
There was a loud “Oooooh!” as the narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. 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!” their guide 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.
“Everyone in?” shouted the man, who was so large that he had a boat to himself. “Right then- FORWARD!”
And the little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake. 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. 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 climbed out onto the rocks and pebbles. Then they climbed up a passageway, coming out onto damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.
“Everyone here?” their guide asked before raising a gigantic fist and knocking three times on the castle door. The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there.
“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.”
“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” The witch replied. Then, she pulled the door wide. All the first years followed Professor McGonagall into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville’s cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron’s smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.
“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”
She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.
“Do you know how they sort us into houses? I could never get a clear answer.” He asked Ron.
“Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”
Harry’s heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? He barely knew any magic! What on earth would he have to do? He hadn’t expected something like this the moment they arrived. How could Padfoot and Moony and Zel, who was very big on studying for tests, not have warned him about this?! He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. He’d never been more nervous, never. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.
“Harry! There you are.” Draco called out, moving towards Harry, two rather large boys following in his wake.
“Draco. I didn’t see you on the train.” Harry said.
“Yes. Well, I didn’t want to sit with just anyone.” Draco said, giving Ron a scathing look. Harry frowned, but before he could say anything, Draco continued talking. “Well, anyway, I want to introduce you to my two friends, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.” He gestured absently to the large boys behind him, who made vague grunting noises behind him.
“Er- hi.” Harry said, not sure why Draco would want to be friends with such surly looking blokes.
“You really Harry Potter?” One of them, Harry thought it was Crabbe, asked.
“Yeah.” Harry said, frowning. The other one snorted.
“Thought he’d be taller.” He grunted. Harry was rather annoyed that they were talking about him like he wasn’t even there.
“My father says, it’s important to get off on the right foot at Hogwarts, Harry. I was rather disappointed you didn’t seek me out on the train.” Draco said in a loud, carrying voice. Harry felt his face heat up in embarrassment as more of their classmates turned to pay attention to their conversation.
“I had a good ride with Neville, Ron, and Hermione. We played a load of games and had plenty of sweets. I thought that you might join us, since we had a compartment to ourselves.” Harry said, trying to lower the volume of their conversation. Draco sneered at Hermione and then turned and gave Harry a superior look.
“Well, my father says that-“ Draco started, with the same smug, superior look on his face. But Harry was spared from hearing whatever Lucius Malfoy had to say as several people behind him screamed.
“What the--?”
Harry gasped as about twenty ghosts streamed through the back wall, who seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—”
“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?”
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.
“New students!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”
A few people nodded mutely.
“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old house, you know.” Now that his initial shock was over, Harry looked at the ghosts curiously. They didn’t look anything like the shades he had encountered during the ritual to remove the horcrux last year. He frowned and pushed the thought aside. Sirius had warned him that Headmaster Dumbledore was an expert Legillimens. The way that his godfather talked about the Headmaster made Harry a little bit wary of being alone with the man, or even making eye contact.
“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.” Professor McGonagall had returned and, one by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
“Now form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”
Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
His first look at the Great Hall was just how Sirius had described it in all his stories about Hogwarts. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.”
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard’s hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth—and the hat began to sing. Harry tried to pay close attention to the song, but he was so nervous, most of the words just went in one ear and out the other. The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
“So, we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispered to Harry. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.”
Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. Before he could dwell on his anxiousness, Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.
“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause—
“Hufflepuff!” shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
“Bones, Susan!” became a Hufflepuff and “Boot, Terry!” became a Ravenclaw.
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
“Broklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.
“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all Sirius had said about Slytherin, he thought they looked very unpleasant. Harry tried to shake it off, remembering that Aunt Andy had been in Slytherin and she was quite nice and friendly.
“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” became a Hufflepuff while Harry was lost in thought. Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. “Finnegan, Seamus,” the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
“Granger, Hermione!”
Harry watched as Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. Harry watched as the hat twitched on Hermione’s head and he wondered what it was telling her.
“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat. Hermione smiled and moved over to the Ravenclaw table and Harry knew that Zel would be happy that one of them had been sorted into her old house. Just as he thought about his family, a terrible thought struck him. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train?
When Neville was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag”, who was sorted into Ravenclaw.
Draco swaggered forward when his name was called and the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”
Draco went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. Harry hadn’t been too impressed with them when Draco had introduced them. In fact, he had been rather annoyed with Draco while they were waiting for the sorting to begin, but he was happy that Draco was in the house his family had all been in. However, he didn’t have much time to think about Draco and how pleased Aunt Narcissa would be, before his nerves swamped him again. There weren’t many people left now.
“Moon”…, “Nott”…, “Parkinson”…, then the Patil twins…, then “Perks, Sally-Anne”…, and then, at last—
“Potter, Harry!”
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out all over the hall. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was a hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. The next second, he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
“Hmmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting…So where shall I put you?”
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, before he could help it, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that.
I’d like to be where I can be myself. Harry thought, his mind flashing through conversations he’d heard between Aunt Andy and Sirius about expectations in Slytherin and the pretenses that came with being sorted there. Harry felt a strong burst of feeling remembering his brief moments talking with his parents during the ritual last year and his longing to feel more of a connection with them…before he could process everything that passed through his mind the hat was talking to him again.
“—no? Well, if you’re sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!”
The hat shouted the last word to the whole hall and Harry took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. From his seat at the Gryffindor table, he could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who had led them all to the castle from the station. And there, at the center of the High Table, in a large, gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from his Chocolate Frog card collection.
And now there were only a few people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” joined them at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron’s turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”
Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.
“Well done, Ron, excellent,” said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away as Dumbledore got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
“Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank-you.”
He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not. He was rather pleased with his sorting into Gryffindor, although a little worried that he wasn’t in the same house as Hermione or Draco. He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Hermione in deep conversation with Padma Patil. He smiled a little at the sight; however, his gaze soon shifted to the Head Table, feeling eyes on him.
His bright green eyes met the burning dark gaze of a teacher with long, greasy hair and a hooked nose. Harry felt light headed and his head began to throb with a sudden headache. Rubbing his scar, Harry looked down at his plate and tried to concentrate on his food, rather than the pain from his headache.
“You alright?” Ron asked, stuffing his face with roast chicken and mashed potatoes.
“Sudden headache.” Harry said, closing his eyes to relieve the pain and to avoid seeing the remains of Ron’s food in his mouth. Pushing his discomfort aside, Harry concentrated on his food, making the most of his first meal at Hogwarts. At last, the desserts disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
“Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”
Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.
“He’s not serious?” he muttered to Percy.
“Must be,” said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. “It’s odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we’re not allowed to go somewhere—the forest’s full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.”
Harry shrugged, but didn’t have time to respond as the tables cleared themselves and everyone started heading to the dorms. He heard Percy call the first years over, but didn’t really pay attention as he walked through the winding corridors and moving staircases to Gryffindor Tower. Harry vaguely figured that the walk must've been good for him, as his headache faded as he left the Great Hall. Before he knew it, he was falling asleep in a comfy four-poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, ready to start his first day at Hogwarts!