Chapter Text
Platform nine. Platform ten. Platform nine. Platform ten. Harry looked at the ticket in his hand. Platform nine and three-quarters. He looked back up at the signs. Platform nine. Platform ten. How am I supposed to get on? It’ll be eleven soon and if the train leaves then—Uncle Vernon’ll hate me if I miss it. I mean he’ll have to come all the way back here to pick me up and then I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I should just turn around and go back? I mean me? A wizard? Someone who can actually do magic?
He stared at the ticket. It had been included with the letter Hagrid had given him. Harry turned it over.
This ticket is valid for one passenger only.
To access the platform, one simply needs to walk between platforms nine and ten at Kings Cross Station. Do mind all belongings and pets when travelling to the platform.
Walk between the platforms? Harry rolled his cart over to the wall. Okay. So there’s platform ten. And platform nine’s over there. I’m supposed to go through this? Like how Hagrid took me through the wall to Diagon Alley when we went? He angled his cart. He gripped the ticket in his hand. Okay. Here goes nothing, I guess?
He shoved the cart at the wall. To his surprise, it kept going. Harry vanished into the wall and out onto the other side. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw people dressed in colorful outfits all around him. A sign above his head designated the spot as platform nine and three-quarters.
It worked? He grinned. It worked!
Harry pushed his cart over to the line of people waiting to get on. A man in uniform waved his wand to unload Harry’s trunk and add it to the others. Harry carried Hedwig onto the train along with an old backpack that held his robes and a few other things.
Kids chatted around him. A few laughed as they swapped stories from their holidays. Some were already in their uniforms while others stayed in their regular clothes. Harry walked up and down the length of the train, only to find that nearly every spot was occupied.
“Oi, do you need to find a seat still?” a boy asked. “You can sit with us. There’s plenty of room.”
“Thanks.” Harry followed him inside. He sat down across from the boy near the girl who was already there.
The train’s whistle sounded to announce their departure just as it began to move away from the platform.
“That was close.” He smiled. “I’m Neville, by the way.”
“Harry.”
“Nice to meet you. That one over there is Nora. Twin sister; yeah, we don’t look alike, but we’re still twins. Same birthday and all.”
Harry looked between the two. They were both blonde though Neville was a few shades darker than his sister and they both had brown eyes. However, Neville was chubbier where his sister was skinnier; he was by no means as large as Dudley, mind, since it seemed to fit him better in Harry’s opinion. Harry also couldn’t tell if the bulk was enhanced by the warm jumper he had on. He also suspected their parents had decently paying jobs—though what that meant for a wizard, he wasn’t sure—as both of them had clothing that fit them well and seemed to be suited to their tastes. It only made Harry all the more conscious of his ill-fitting trousers and shirt that were both inherited from Dudley’s old things.
“Are you a first year too?” Neville asked.
Harry nodded.
“Wicked. Maybe we’ll all be in the same House together. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“ ‘House’?”
“You don’t know about the Houses? Well, according to Gran, we get Sorted into one of the four Houses; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. She wasn’t clear on how they do it though, so who knows what that’s going to be like?”
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”
“True. I can’t wait though. Especially since it looks like we’ll get to learn about plants our first year! They’re really fascinating. I hope we get to work with some. There are so many different varieties and each one needs its own mixture of soil and watering sche—”
Nora waved to cut him off. She gave Harry an apologetic look.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I get excited and I start rambling. Plants are my favorite things to learn about.”
“Sounds interesting and complicated.”
“Oh they are. I mean, I’m not entirely sure about muggle plants, but magical plants can have all sorts of different properties depending on how you look after them and—I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He cleared his throat. “So, um, any classes you’re excited about?”
“I guess all of them? I mean I’m not sure what to expect with going to a school for magic.”
“Makes sense. Did you have to go to a muggle school before?”
“Yeah.”
“What do they teach there?”
Harry shrugged. “Nothing as exciting as doing magic. That’s for sure.”
“Anything from the trolley, dears?” A kind-looking woman poked her head inside.
“I’ll take two licorice wands and a pack of Droobles,” Neville ordered. “And some iced mice. Please.” He glanced over at Harry. “Chocolate frog and a pack of Bertie Botts’ for him.”
“I have money,” Harry argued as Neville handed him the candy. “I could’ve paid for it myself. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Then your first one’s on me.” He sat down. “Careful with opening the chocolate frog; they’ll jump out at you if you’re not careful.”
“Is it a real frog?”
“Don’t worry. They’re just in the shape of one and the enchantment only really lasts for one jump.”
Harry carefully opened the box. The frog leapt out at him. He batted it away into Nora’s hand. She smiled and handed it back to him. Harry was relieved to see that the frog had frozen into its chocolate form.
“You’ll also want to check the box for a card,” Neville added. “There’s one in every box. You can get started on your own collection.”
Harry picked up the card that had been included. “Albus Dumbledore? He’s our headmaster?”
“And a famous wizard too. Gran always thought he could run for minister if he wanted it. Once you get finished with that, try the beans. They have every flavor—and they do mean every flavor and some you’d never want to taste.”
He opened it and picked one out. Harry held the box out to Nora who chose one for herself. Harry bit into the bean only to grimace when he got the strangest taste in his mouth.
“Oh no! I hope you didn’t get a bad one for your first time.”
He spit it out. “Tasted like I just swallowed a mouthful of grass. Which one did you get?”
Nora stuck hers in her mouth. She spat hers out.
“Lemon meringue pie,” Neville muttered.
Harry looked from Nora to Neville and back again. She hadn’t said anything, so how did he know what flavor she got? True the bean had a yellow color to it, but that could’ve been anything at all.
“You alright?” He asked. “You didn’t get another bad flavor, did you?”
“No. Can you—is it a thing where wizards can like read people’s minds or something?”
“Maybe. It’s seriously advanced stuff though. It’s called legal—leg—do you even know how to spell this thing out?”
Nora rolled her eyes.
“L-E-G-I-L-I-M-E-N-C-Y. However you pronounce that.”
“Oh. Then how do you know what flavor she got? She didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, she did.” He sat up. “Hang on. Did I not say anything?”
Nora shook her head and made some sort of gesture at him which made Neville smack his hand against his forehead.
“Merlin. You have got to remind me about that. Well it’s not my fault that I ‘forgot to mention the obvious’.” He turned toward Harry. “Sorry about that; forgot how much of an idiot my sister can be sometimes especially with reminders of—oi!” He brushed off the jelly beans Nora had thrown at him. “Anyway: I can understand her without her needing to say anything because of this nifty thing the muggles came up with. Sign language.”
“That’s what you’ve been doing with your hands while you’ve been talking?” he guessed.
“Yep.”
“But why use that when you can just—you know—talk with each other?”
“Because Nora can’t hear anything; she’s deaf.”
“She can’t hear anything at all?”
“Nothing. Been that way ever since we were born.”
“Oh. I-I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to feel sorry; can’t miss what I never heard.” Neville nodded toward Nora. “She said that one; not me. I just translated.”
“Still—I mean—not being able to hear anything at all? Not being able to talk to people? Don’t you ever wonder what you might’ve missed out on?”
“You lived with muggles your entire life, right? During all that time did you ever wonder what it might be like to do magic or wave a wand or that there could be an entire society of wizards living out there that you might miss out on?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Because you didn’t know that it was a thing. Well, I don’t know what it’s like to hear things or what hearing is even like. So how can I miss something I never knew about in the first place?”
“And she never wanted to hear either,” Neville added; Harry guessed it was him since he was now waving his hands around—signing?—again. “There are ways to get hearing back sort of, but Nora didn’t want any of those. I don’t think our parents wanted her to do them either.”
“Can you talk though?”
Nora shrugged.
“Technically: she could. Problems with being able to talk but never hear what she’s saying. Never wanted to, either, did you? Oh, and um, Harry? Nora’s still over there next to you. I’m just an invisible translator over here. You can still talk to her.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Harry positioned himself so that he could see both of them at the same time. “Didn’t mean to—I mean I—”
“You’re not the first one to do it. Sadly, you won’t be the last either.”
“We’ll try to help you as best as we can,” Neville offered. “It’s just second-nature to us since we’ve grown up around each other our entire lives. You’re just now getting introduced to all of this.”
“Are there deaf wizards? I mean—are there a lot of deaf wizards?”
“Probably not at Hogwarts. Maybe if we were going to Beauxbatons or Ilvermony, but those are both in different countries.”
“We could’ve gone to other schools to learn magic?”
“If we lived in France or America. Or if you had a really good reason to go to a different school. Gran tried, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.” Neville puffed out his chest a little before Nora shot him a look. “What? You’ve been stuck with me for this long, haven’t you? It’ll be worth it though once we get there. We’ll be learning spells and doing magic and all sorts of fun things.”
Harry nodded in agreement. At least, he hoped it would be interesting to learn magic. And learn more about where his parents came from. Aunt Petunia had never said a word about his parents—other than to complain about his dad—and Harry had been too afraid to ask for more information.
“We will be arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in one hour,” an announcement called out. “Please change into your uniforms to prepare for arrival. We will be arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in one hour. Please change into your uniforms to prepare for arrival.”
“Guess we ought to do that.” Neville stood and grabbed his uniform out of his bag. “Harry, do you mind getting the shades on your side?”
He shook his head and pulled down the shades before they started to change into their uniforms. Harry tried to do it as quickly as possible while he faced the back of the seat. He couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it all. He glanced to the side to see Nora with her back to them and her nose practically touching the pages of the books she had.
“I’m finished,” Neville announced. “Harry?”
“Almost. I’m at least changed but I can’t figure out this last bit.”
“Is it the tie?”
“Yeah.”
“I can help with that.” He tapped on Nora’s shoulder. “We’ll be outside.”
They stepped out so she could change on her own. Harry sheepishly held the tie out to Neville.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t be. Took me awhile before I could get it down. These things are impossible when you have no idea what you’re doing. It’s one of the reasons I hated whenever Gran made us dress up because she had some important guest over for dinner. I actually tried to burn these things once. Didn’t work out sadly. And there you go.”
“Thanks.” Harry tugged on it to make it a bit looser.
A knock sounded on the door and they went back inside.
“Now it feels all official,” Neville pointed out. “We’re actually going to Hogwarts.”
XXXXXXXXXX
The train pulled into the station. They grabbed their things and handed them off to be collected later. Harry gave Hedwig a little pet with his fingers before he left.
“First years!” a familiar voice shouted. “First years! Over here! All first years over here!”
“Hagrid!” Harry maneuvered his way toward the lantern.
“Harry! Glad to see ya made it alright. All first years over here!”
He waited until the others had joined them. Hagrid led them down a hill to where a set of boats were tied at the edge of a lake.
“Four to a boat. There’s plenty of room for all of ya.”
“This one looks good,” Neville suggested. He helped Nora in first and then Harry before he climbed in after.
“Do you mind if I join?” a redhead asked.
“Not at all.” Harry moved over to make room for him.
“Thanks. I’m Ron. Ron Weasley.”
“Harry.”
“Neville. And that’s Nora.”
“Nice to meet you.” He shook hands with each of them.
“Why are we the only ones who get to ride the boats?” Harry wondered.
“Gran told me about this. It’s tradition to ride in the boats on your first year; sort of like an initiation ceremony or something. Then, when you graduate, you leave Hogwarts in the boats.”
“But how do we get across? I don’t see any oars.”
“Magic.” Neville smiled. “I think. I mean, it’s a decent excuse for how anything gets done, isn’t it?”
Once the last first years had climbed into their boats, they began to move across the water after the boat Hagrid occupied.
“Wicked,” Ron whispered as he leaned over the edge. “You can’t even tell where the water ends and the sky begins! It’s so smooth and dark!”
Harry opened his mouth to say something, only to be taken aback as the castle came into view.
He had seen castles before in books and films, but nothing compared to Hogwarts. It only grew larger as they approached. Each window was lit up so it glowed in the night. Harry craned his neck in an effort to see everything. It only grew and stretched up higher above him until he almost fell back into the boat.
“You okay?” Neville asked.
“Yeah. Just. Definitely wicked.”
They passed under an archway and went through a tunnel until the boats docked all in a line. They climbed out. Hagrid led them up a winding set of stairs. He unlocked a heavy iron gate for them to pass through.
“Go on. Straight up those steps. Up ya go. Up ya go.”
Harry followed the others up more stairs until they came to a landing in front of a pair of ornate wooden doors decorated with what he guessed was the school crest. A lion with ruby eyes, an eagle with sapphire eyes, a badger with topaz eyes, and a snake with emerald eyes each adorned their own corner with a large capital H in the very center made of brass for the handles. Harry squinted at the elegant text around the frame of the door that looked as if someone had somehow sewn gold into the wood itself.
“ ‘Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus’?” he read.
“School motto,” Neville explained. “Translates to ‘never tickle a sleeping dragon’.”
“You know what that means?”
“A lot of old families have mottos and apparently it’s a rule that every motto has to be written in Latin.” He shrugged. “Hated memorizing all of them.”
“Why’d you have to—?”
“Oi. Longbottom.” A boy pushed his way through along with two others behind him. Harry recognized the one who had spoken as the boy he had met in Diagon Alley when he got his robes.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued. “Shouldn’t you be laid up in a bed at St. Mungo’s?”
“Shouldn’t you be in prison by now?”
“Look at that! He can actually get a few words out.”
“Lay off!” Harry shouted.
“Stay out of this.” Malfoy walked over to him. “Who do you even think you are?”
He opened his mouth, only to shut it when he realized that everyone was staring at him.
“Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” a voice greeted.
Harry looked up at where a stern looking woman stood. She wore dark green robes, had a witch’s hat perched atop her hair that was in such a tight bun he couldn’t tell what color her hair was. She did have sharp eyes behind her glasses that reminded him of that one instructor he never wanted to be in trouble with.
“I am Professor McGonagall,” she continued. “You will soon pass through these doors into our Great Hall where all manner of feasts and ceremonies take place as well as where you will gather for your meals. However, before you can take your seats, you must first be Sorted into one of four Houses—” She motioned toward the animals on the crest behind her as she spoke. “—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each one holds a proud and noble history behind it which I expect you will all contribute to.” Her eyes swept over them. “Now come: the Sorting Ceremony awaits.”
She opened the doors. Harry followed her down the aisle between four long tables. The older students watched as they walked past. He shrunk in on himself as he got the suspicious feeling that every eye was on him.
They stopped at the front. Between them and another table full of more professors was an old stool and a hat. Harry frowned. She had made it sound like the ceremony was some grand affair. This was just…a hat. An old, battered, stitched-up-a-thousand-times-and-barely-holding-itself-together hat.
Professor McGonagall unfurled a scroll and held the hat in her other hand. “When I call out your name, you will have a seat and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head. Hannah Abbott.”
A blonde girl stepped forward. She sat on the stool. The professor placed the Hat on her head.
Is this really supposed to tell us which House we belong to?
As if to answer, a seam appeared to split in the middle of the Hat. It opened, and a voice boomed around the hall that proclaimed “HUFFLEPUFF” much to the delight of the table to Harry’s left that was decorated with a yellow and black cloth.
Susan Bones joined her; then Terry Boot went over to the far table on the right with the Ravenclaws—who were surrounded by blue and bronze—followed by Mandy Brocklehurst. Lavender Brown then went to the table on his left against the wall to join the Gryffindors with their red and gold colors. Millicent Bulstrode was the first to go to the table on Harry’s right decorated with green and silver that was labeled as Slytherin.
Harry still couldn’t tell what determined who got to sit where. All he could see was that the Sorting Hat was placed on their heads, they waited for some time—anywhere from almost instantly to several minutes—and then the Hat would call out a table for them to sit at.
“Eleanor Longbottom.”
Neville nudged his sister. She walked up, turned around, and sat on the stool. It was on her head for several minutes before it called out “GRYFFINDOR.” The table erupted into cheers and Nora walked over to join them.
“Neville Longbottom.”
He walked up and took his seat. It took a few minutes less than Nora for the Hat to announce “GRYFFINDOR” as well. Neville grinned and went to join his sister at the table.
“Draco Malfoy.”
The blonde from before strutted to the stool before he sat down. The Hat barely touched his head before it called out “SLYTHERIN” and Malfoy waltzed over to join the others with a smug look on his face.
The rest of the students who were left slowly dwindled until there were only nine who remained.
“Harry Potter.”
He instinctively curled up as he felt all eyes move to him. Harry took his seat on the stool, and wished he hadn’t as soon as he saw just how many students now looked at him. He could’ve sworn even several professors at the table behind him stared. They all wanted to know where he would go more than any other student it seemed. There weren’t any whispers or sounds to be heard from anyone.
The professor placed the Hat on his head.
Hm…. Where to put you….
Harry tried not to jump off the stool when he heard the strange voice whisper in his ear; a voice that almost seemed to be made of multiple voices that were both male and female at the same time. It almost seemed as if it came from the Hat itself, but Harry knew that had to be impossible. Hats couldn’t talk; could they? Then again, you’ve just stood there and watched a hat shout words. A hat that shouldn’t even be talking in the first place.
Ah, I see. You’re determined to prove yourself, aren’t you? A decent mind as well, though reluctant to show it. There is certainly talent there; a very good amount just waiting to be shown to the world. And courage as well! Yes, there is certainly a strong amount of courage for such a young child.
Perhaps you ought to go in Ravenclaw. Someone with your mind should be allowed the chance to grow and explore. Hm. But you’d never show it, would you? All that cleverness would never come to the surface so easily.
Or Hufflepuff. You do have a kind heart despite your circumstances. A boy who would fight for those who are unfairly treated. But there’s still more, isn’t there?
You’d do well in Slytherin, I think. They could help you on your way; you could easily be one of the greatest with their aid. You’d blossom into quite the wizard. Yes. I can see how far you’d go with their help. You’ve got the mind to prove it and the will to become a great leader. Yes. I think Slytherin may be the place for you, young wizard.
His gaze darted toward the Slytherin table where Malfoy sat. The smug boy looked like that one kid no one wanted to hang around with because he’d run tattle on them the moment he could. Not to mention the other two boys who sat with him; they looked like they ought to be part of Dudley’s gang.
Not there, he begged. Please not there. I wanted to go to Hogwarts to get away from Dudley and them. Don’t make me spend my entire time here with them. Please.
I mean, only if you wanted to put me in a different House, he quickly added in case the Hat could hear his thoughts. It’s up to you. Clearly. I don’t know how any of this works and you’ve done this a thousand times. I think. I’m still new to everything so maybe you should put me wherever you think is best even if it’s with Slytherin. Harry’s gaze drifted over toward the table where Neville and Nora sat. Besides, I don’t even know if they like me or if we’d even be friends. I mean we did just meet today. Maybe I should go in Slytherin. Or Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw. Or Hufflepuff. Whichever one you think I should be in.
The Hat almost seemed to chuckle with its voices. Are you sure about that? Well, if you’ve made up your mind, then it might as well be—
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The table burst into applause at the announcement. Harry couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he got off the stool. He walked over and slid into the seat next to Neville. He cheered along with the rest of them as the others were Sorted and they welcomed Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley—the redhead from before—to their table.
An old man dressed in colorful robes with a beard that almost reached his waist stood from his seat which appeared to be shaped like a golden throne. From the card he had gotten on the train, Harry guessed he was their headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
“Welcome students to another fine year at Hogwarts. A few reminders before we begin. Once again: the Forbidden Forest is restricted without the proper supervision and all forest grounds are restricted particularly after curfew. New to this year is the third floor corridor on the right hand side while Mr. Filch, our caretaker, is to be handling some maintenance and cleaning that will lead to a most painful death for anyone who isn’t careful. Now, with that of the way, let the feast begin!”
To Harry’s surprise, the plates in front of him were suddenly filled with food and the pitchers were filled with some type of orange colored drink. He reached forward to fill his plate with everything he could get.
“Try some,” Neville handed him one of the pitchers. “Pumpkin juice. It’s a pretty common drink.”
Harry poured out some and took a sip. It was sweet, but not too much, and tasted a lot better than he expected it to.
“It’s good.” He looked up at the floating candles and the ceiling that looked more like the night sky than a real ceiling. “Shouldn’t we be worried about those?”
“I think there’s some sort of enchantment so none of the wax gets into the food.” Neville shrugged. “I’m just happy to get something to eat.”
“Oi! Freddy! Would you look at what we’ve got here!” A redheaded teenager sat down next to Neville.
“Our very own set of twins!” Another redhead joined him next to Nora, who flinched at the sudden appearance. “Who would’ve guessed?”
“You two are related?” Neville asked.
“What gave it away? The hair or the charming good looks?”
“Let’s be honest though: I am the handsomer one, aren’t I? So, you’re Neville and Eleanor?”
“Nora,” Neville corrected.
“I’m Fred and that one over there is George.”
“Of course, we were here first, so we’re the superior twins.” George elbowed Nora who almost jumped out of her seat. “Don’t worry! I won’t bite; though I can’t say much for Fred. You better watch him.”
“You’re one to talk!” Fred turned toward Harry. “And of course we can’t forget our other special addition to Gryffindor House either!”
“Mr. Potter!” George half-climbed over the table to get to him. “Mr. Potter! Can I have your autograph?”
“Mr. Potter!” Fred shoved him out of the way. “Sign my wand!”
“Um—I—um—”
“Ignore them.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Fred and George just love to joke around.”
“Oi. Don’t start turning into Percy now.” Fred shot Harry a wink. “The oldest one of us—at least the ones who are at Hogwarts. Or in the country, now that I think about it since Bill’s off in Egypt and Charlie’s in Romania.”
“If you forget, just look for the hair and yell for a Weasley,” George advised.
“It usually works. Especially since we’re all in Gryffindor. Though I guess you two aren’t the only new twins.”
“Oi! Pavarti, was it? Too bad you got Sorted away from your sister.”
“But you are set up for switching Houses now and again, aren’t you?”
“I’d rather not,” she argued. “It’d get us both in a lot of trouble, wouldn’t it?”
“But the fun of it all!”
Harry glanced over at the head table. His head began to throb. He didn’t think much of it until it went from a dull ache to the sort of throbbing that constantly wanted to let him know it existed and wasn’t going to easily go away.
“Fred?”
“George,” he corrected. “Are you okay, Harry?”
“Fine,” he muttered. “Headache.”
“You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” He rubbed his head as it began to dull. “It’s going away now, I think.”
“If you’re sure…. Did you have a question about something?”
“Those are the professors over there at that table, aren’t they?”
“Most of them. Some classes have assistant professors, but you never really see them around unless you need to take extra lessons.”
“Who’s that one over there then? The one talking to Professor Quirrell?”
“You know Quirrell?”
“Ran into him when I went to Diagon Alley.”
“Ah.” George frowned. “That would be Professor Snape. He’s brilliant, but definitely one of the stricter ones you’ll meet. I think it comes with the territory; he teaches Potions. He’s also Head of Slytherin, so there’s a bit of a rivalry between our two Houses there.” He lowered his voice. “Apparently the rumor is that he really wants to do Defense Against the Dark Arts—the one Quirrell teaches. He’s been wanting it ever since he started and some even reckon he’d do anything to get it too.”
“Anything?”
“I don’t think Dumbledore would let him, but I wouldn’t put it past Snape to try.”
Harry glanced at the table where Snape’s dark gaze seemed almost glued to where Harry sat. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“He’s probably upset you didn’t end up in his House. Oi! Sir Nicholas!” George waved his hand in the air.
One of the ghosts who had been floating near the other end of the table made his way over to them. “George Weasley. I see you and your brother have taken it upon yourselves to entertain our newest students. You may follow your brother’s footsteps and earn yourselves a prefect badge.”
“Eh, you know we do it for the fun of it and not for some shiny badge,” Fred argued.
“Harry, this is Sir Nicholas; Gryffindor House’s resident ghost. You can usually find him hanging around the Great Hall. Sir Nicholas, this is Harry Potter.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Potter. Welcome to Gryffindor House.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“And we’ve got another set of twins!” Fred added. “We almost got two, but one of the Patils ended up in Ravenclaw.”
“I’m certain Helena will give her a splendid welcome nonetheless,” he reassured.
“Sir Nicholas?” One of the girls—Hermione Granger, if Harry remembered correctly—piped up. “Wait a minute! I’ve read about you! Aren’t you also known as ‘Nearly Headless Nick’?”
“I’d prefer ‘Sir Nicholas’ if you don’t mind,” he corrected. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some other business to attend to. I’ll inform Peeves that the two of you have survived the summer term.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t like it being brought up,” Fred explained. “Apparently it’s a sore subject for him. Beheading goes horribly wrong and next thing you know your head is barely stuck to your head.”
“Tough thing to live with for the rest of your afterlife,” George added.
“I was only being curious,” Hermione argued. “I didn’t know it would have that effect on him. I wish I could apologize!”
“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it.” Fred patted her on the shoulder. “Sir Nicholas and the other ghosts know you’re all first years and you’ve got a lot to learn.”
The plates before them vanished only to be replenished with all manner of different desserts.
“Like how quickly we can all devour these sweets!” George suggested. “Who has room left?”
The Weasley twins kept them well entertained with several jokes and stories from their time as first years.
“You’re deaf?” Fred asked once Neville remembered to explain about his sister. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve been missing out on all of our jokes this entire time?”
“I’ve been translating some of them for her,” Neville explained.
“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing with your hands?”
“Sign language. It’s how she communicates.”
“We’ll have to remember that.”
“In the meantime: we’ll just have to stick to the lamer jokes so you don’t miss out on our witty humor.”
“First years!” Percy Weasley—according to who they had pointed out earlier—stood. “First years! All first years! Follow me!”
“We’ll see you lot up there!” Fred shouted after them as they went over to where Percy stood.
“I’m to show you to your dorm now,” he began. “This way. Keep up.”
They followed him through the castle. Harry gaped around at everything. The portraits waved at them and a few even spoke. Ghosts floated throughout the halls. Percy warned them about a particular set of staircases that liked to change floors every now and again in the main corridor, but there were other options to travel around the castle if one preferred.
“Is everything like this?” he wondered.
“Think it’s just Hogwarts.” Neville shrugged.
They came to a stop in front of a portrait of a large woman.
“Oh! A new set of young Gryffindors, Mr. Weasley?”
“Indeed they are. This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower,” he explained. “We call this ‘The Fat Lady’s portrait’. Though her name is actually Elizabeth Dawn. To enter you’ll need to speak the password ‘fortuna major’.”
The portrait swung open. Harry followed him inside.
“This is the Gryffindor Common Room,” he introduced. “Upstairs is where you’ll find the dorms. Boys will be the door to my left; girls to my right. You are not permitted in the dorm of the opposite gender; you’ll find the stairs are enchanted to turn into a slide if you try. Yours will be the first door you come to. You’ll find that your things have already been delivered. The prefect’s bedroom is that center door there, so if you’re in need of something during the night, don’t hesitate to ask. Each dormitory has its own bathroom, but you’ll have to come here to shower, which is through that door. Curfew is two hours after dinner unless you have Astronomy. Best not be caught outside the dormitory past then. You’ll lose us points if you do that; and you want to earn points by doing very well in your classes so we can win the House Cup at the end of the year.” Percy nodded, seemingly satisfied with everything. “The other students should be up shortly. In the meantime, I’ll leave you to get settled in and get yourselves acquainted with everything. The bell will chime when you have an hour before breakfast, lunch, and dinner begin in the Great Hall and it’ll ring again when curfew officially begins.” With that, he walked through the door to his own bedroom.
“So, you’re Harry Potter?” One of the boys ran over to him. “Seamus Finnigan. Nice to meet you!”
“Dean Thomas,” another introduced.
“I’m Lavender Brown! I’m such a fan of yours!”
“Pavarti Patil. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Sue Li. You must have so many interesting stories.”
“Oh. Um. Hi. Nice to meet you.” Harry instinctively took a step back from them. “Really.”
“There’ll be time for all of that later!” Hermione argued. “Step back. How would you like to be crowded like that? Besides, if you really want to hear about what he’s done you can read it in a book. I have several in my trunk already if anyone would like to borrow a copy.”
“You don’t need to read about it if you’ve already grown up hearing all about what happened,” Ron argued.
“Not everyone comes from the wizarding world, Ronald.”
“Ron.”
“Some of us happen to be muggleborns and have never even heard of what’s happened before.”
“I’m just saying that they probably don’t need to read all about everything Harry’s done. And who made you in charge of everything?”
“Well I’m quite talented and I’ve already tried several spells which have all worked for me.” She crossed her arms. “What about you? Have you tried any spells?”
“Why would I try any when we’re going to be learning about how to do them here?”
Harry turned when he felt someone tug on his sleeve.
“Mind helping me unpack my stuff?” Neville asked.
“Sure.” Harry followed him up the stairs and into the dormitory.
Five four poster beds were arranged in an arc with heavy scarlet curtains, blankets, and pillows with gold accents. A doorway led off to what Harry assumed to be the loo. His trunk had been placed at the foot of one bed. To his disappointment, Hedwig’s empty cage sat on top of the trunk.
Your owl has been given accommodations in Hogwarts’ owlery.
“You okay, Harry?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just didn’t expect for them to put Hedwig someplace else.”
“I’m sure you can open the window and she’ll visit you.” Neville opened his cage and took out a similar card. “Huh. Looks like they already found Trevor a nice pond to splash around in with all the other toads. Guess I brought you up here and away from that crowd of people for nothing.” He shrugged. “Totally did not plan that one out.”
“Thanks for that.” Harry sat on his own bed. “I didn’t know being here would make people argue.”
“Eh, I’m sure they’ll sort it out eventually. I mean we’re sort of stuck with each other until we graduate now. They’ll have to work things out at some point. You’ll see.” Neville tilted his head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why didn’t you mention it when we were on the train? That you’re the Harry Potter?”
“I forgot? I mean, it doesn’t seem like it should be that big of a thing. But I guess it is, huh?”
“You grew up with muggles, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Makes sense then why you don’t know how big of a thing it is. Has anyone really—have they told you why you’re famous?”
“Hagrid explained it some. He said that there was this really evil wizard and somehow I stopped him when I was a baby. Doesn’t seem like something that should’ve happened.”
“Yeah, that part always gets weird. You-Know-Who—one of the most powerful dark wizards ever—gets defeated by a baby. Dark wizard. Baby. But either way, somehow you stopped him. Not to mention that according to all the papers, you survived a curse. And not just any curse either! The Killing Curse; something that no one should ever survive.”
“But I did.”
Neville walked over and poked Harry in the arm. “Yep. Still alive. Still pokable.”
He couldn’t help but smile a bit.
“Harry? Neville?” Dean popped his head in. “We’re all up for playing a game if you’re interested. Don’t worry; they stopped arguing.”
“I can play. I mean, I think so. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing.”
“It’s one we made up. We can teach it to you if you want. Neville? You interested?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
They followed him back downstairs. They took a seat in the circle.
“Okay, so we go around and you tell the group something about yourself,” Dean explained. “Then the rest of us guess if it’s true or a lie. If someone guesses it right, then you have to eat one of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. If they get it wrong, then the person who guessed has to eat one.”
“You know that game’s only going to last for one round, mate, don’t you?” Seamus argued.
“Well that’s the fun part! You keep going until you can’t eat any more.” Ron grinned. “I’ll start. Um…I brought a rat with me to school.”
“That’s obviously a lie!” Hermione crossed her arms. “The rules clearly state that students are only allowed to bring either a cat, an owl, or a toad with them.”
“I agree with Hermione,” Lavender added.
“Same,” Dean agreed.
Ron smirked. “Go on then! Pick one.”
“You could get expelled if they find out!”
“Well he’s been in my family for years and so far everyone else has been here. Go on! What flavor did you get?”
“Honey!” Lavender announced.
“Ugh. Liver. I hate liver.”
“Oi. Don’t get sick on us already, Dean.”
“Looks like it’s watermelon for me.”
“Neville? Your turn.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “I can speak French.”
“Prove it,” Sue challenged.
Neville smirked and said something which resulted in Sue taking one of the beans out of the bowl.
“Anyone else confused by what’s going on here?” Lavender wondered.
“I think Neville spoke French and then she replied back in French,” Dean guessed. “Apart from that I have no idea. Nora?”
She shook her head. “Don’t speak French. And out of all the ones you know, you went with that one?”
“I like it.”
“You know more languages?” Seamus wondered.
“Yeah. Gran had a list of things we had to learn, and apparently being able to speak different languages is one of those things. I think it’s more of a pureblood custom than anything else.”
“It is.” Lavender nodded. “Every pureblood should be able to be fluent in two languages, get through dinners in four, and acknowledge basic customs in seven. So does that mean you’re fluent in two languages already since you can also sign?”
“Sadly that doesn’t count since being fluent in sign basically means I can talk with my sister whenever I want to.”
“I’ve never heard of that rule before,” Ron piped up.
“It’s one of those old ones no one really cares about.” Neville rolled his eyes. “I only started to learn French because Gran was so convinced Nora would be going to Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts.”
“You could’ve gone to another school?” Dean asked.
“Hogwarts isn’t the only wizarding school in the entire world,” Seamus pointed out. “It’s just the one that’s closest to where we all live.”
“And it’s the best,” Hermione argued. “Everyone thinks so, especially since Dumbledore’s our headmaster and he’s the greatest wizard to have ever lived.”
“Yeah, but he won’t be teaching us anything, will he?”
“He does have a say in who is able to teach which subject,” Sue added. “And my parents wanted me to attend Hogwarts over Mahoutokoro where my cousins have all gone to, so I think that says something there.”
“Where’s that?”
“Japan. My dad’s side is Japanese; he left for some work thing and met my mom. We go and visit on holidays, but that’s about it.”
“So how many languages can you speak then?” Pavarti wondered.
“English, Japanese, French; three. One for my dad’s side, one for my mom’s, and one for the rest.”
“And I feel like I can barely speak one,” Seamus muttered.
“Same,” Dean agreed.
Harry nodded. He wondered how Neville and Sue didn’t get all of those different languages mixed up in their heads from time to time.
The door opened and the other students began to file inside. Dean collected the bowl of candy while the others went to chat with the older Gryffindors.
Harry got to his feet and found a nice corner to stand in at the edge of the common room. Several students laughed and chatted with one another about how their holidays were or what they expected they might face in the coming year until everything became one giant buzzing noise that drowned out any thought Harry could’ve had.
He glanced around at the people. He could go and talk to them—if he could actually hear what was being said over the rest of the noise. Then again, he might come off as annoying and too naïve with how little he actually knew; what if he asked some silly question and they all had a laugh at him for it? Besides, Harry wasn’t good at making friends. Not that he had much practice doing so since Dudley had made it his life mission to turn everyone against Harry at school. No one wanted to be friends with someone when it would make them an instant target for bullying.
But no one here knows Dudley; he’s not even around. I could go and make friends if I wanted to. Right?
But you’re the famous Harry Potter, remember? A nagging voice argued in the back of his mind. You’re the one who has the most amazing and exciting life ever. You’re the celebrity. Who would ever want to be friends with someone who has had such a boring life like yours? Someone who didn’t even know he could do magic? When he’s supposed to have defeated a dark wizard when he was a baby?
He sighed. Harry tiptoed his way around the crowd and up to the dormitory. He felt a bit more relaxed once the chatter had died down and he could actually hear himself think for once. But it also felt way too lonely with just him and the furniture. He couldn’t even talk to Hedwig and pretend he could have a conversation with her to make himself feel better.
Maybe he should go back downstairs. He could pretend well enough that he liked the attention and wanted to make friends. Or he could just find Neville somewhere in the crowd and stick close to him. No. That would make him seem clingy and annoying—who would want that as their friend?
But it’s still a new start, he reasoned. I can make friends. I can try to do alright in my classes. I just have to not mess it up. Yeah. Just don’t mess this up and everything will be fine. I mean, it’s just like a normal school but with magic. There will be classes and professors and homework and exams. I can do this. I can do this. Everything will be fine.
He quickly changed into his pajamas and fumbled with the curtain until he could figure out how to close it. To his surprise, the curtains blocked out both light and sound. It brought him some comfort though. It reminded him of being in his small cupboard under the stairs. Harry sat his glasses on the nightstand and wedged himself between the soft sheets and heavy comforter.
Everything will be fine. Classes start tomorrow morning. It’ll be just like any first day of school. Just get through your classes. Same way you always do.
It’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine.