Work Text:
Ottery St. Catchpole
Ron turned in bed once again, unable to close his eyes for anything in the world. It was so unfair, he just wanted to sleep so that the night would pass already and then it would be morning and they would set off to London and he would finally take the Hogwarts Express and-
The thought left his heart hammering in his chest, scaring away any possibility of sleep. He had never been so excited in his entire life, he would finally set eyes on the majestic castle, more than that, he would walk through the gates and the sorting hat would rummage through his thoughts and yell “Gryffindor!”, he had nothing to be scared of.
Except…
What if it wasn’t Gryffindor? There was no risk of him being sorted into Ravenclaw, that much was sure, and Hufflepuff wasn’t bad at all, but what if… Well, he had hit Ginny two weeks prior over the last slice of cake, but he did apologise afterwards before Mum even told him to. And the week before he had pinned that bad word he used on the garden gnome, but it had been only one little lie, he wouldn’t be sorted into Slytherin for that, would he?
Would he?
No, if lying got anyone sorted into Slytherin then Fred and George would be draped in green and grey from all the lies they had told him about Hogwarts – and Ron knew that they were lying because some of their stories didn’t match up, he wasn’t stupid! – so there was no risk really. He’d be a terrible Slytherin anyway, the sorting hat must know that, right?
He gave up on sleeping – it was too early for that anyway, why did they put him to bed at the same time as Ginny? Ginny was a baby and he was about to start school – and paced around his bedroom for a while before deciding to go down to the kitchen and pretend to need a glass of water – another lie, what if he really was a Slytherin destined for evil? – to see what the others were doing.
Ron stopped at the top of the stairs, just out of sight, as he heard Mum mentioning his name down in the kitchen.
“- that he brushes his teeth everyday before bed too!”
Unfair.
“Molly…” Dad’s voice was calmer and that made Ron relax. “He’ll be fine, they have all been fine.”
There was a moment of silence, and Ron risked peeking out, but the kitchen wasn’t visible from where he stood.
“Don’t worry, Mum, we’ll look out for him, half our family will be there.” Percy said, all full of himself like he always was.
He didn’t need looking out for, he wasn’t a baby anymore!
A small warmth pressed itself to his side and he looked up to see Ginny in her flannel pyjamas.
“Hey.” She whispered tentatively.
“Hey.” He whispered back.
They sat there in silence while Percy promised their parents to check that he did his homework and showered and brushed his teeth, and Ron scowled to imagine the big mother hen he was going to be the entire year.
“Are you fascinated?” Ginny asked quietly. She had taken to using big words she learned from books, trying to convince Mum, Dumbledore, and anyone who would listen, that she was smart enough and should be allowed into Hogwarts earlier.
Ron wasn’t sure was “fascinated” meant, but he was sure it would be something to do with school.
“I wish it was tomorrow already.” He admitted.
Ginny nodded, pouting.
“I wish they let me go too.” She whined. “I don’t want to be here alone.”
Ron felt a pang of sympathy for his little sister. He had hated seeing his brothers off to Hogwarts every year and having to stay behind with only Ginny, who was a girl and a baby, so he knew how she must be feeling. He put his arm around her back and squeezed her carefully.
“I promise I’ll write.”
She looked up at him like a puppy.
“And tell me what it is really like?”
He nodded solemnly.
“I’ll tell you everything, next year you’ll feel like you already know the castle.”
Ginny smiled, leaping to her feet and running to her room. She was back a minute later with a little card in her hand, a chocolate frog card of the Chudley Cannons chaser he had tried to bribe out of her all summer.
“You can keep it.”
Ron couldn’t wait for tomorrow, but a part of him knew that he was going to miss home.
London
Hermione’s eyes were tired, but she forced them to stay open as she read the same words for the third time ever since buying the book. Even if she laid down she wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, a part of her could still hardly believe what was happening, and she had even convinced the professor to show her that the platform was real and magic was real, and she could do it with that wand that tempted her from it’s place on top of her neatly folded robes.
Just a few hours more and she’d be allowed to try all the spells she read about in the Charms textbook, a few hours more and she would finally be with people who were like her.
She forced her eyes to the page once more. By the time she boarded the Hogwarts express in the morning, no one would guess she wasn’t from there, that she had been born in an ordinary- muggle family, no one would tell her she didn’t belong if she knew everything the other witches knew.
… enchanted by Rowena Ravenclaw to mirror the sky outside.
She had one chance at this, the others had been living with magic ever since they were born so there was a lot of catching up to do, but she knew she could do it, she had to do it, and no one would be able to tell her that wasn’t her place. Hermione had made that mistake with the posh girls school – City of London – and she was determined to not repeat it with Hogwarts.
Her eyes went back to the start of the paragraph again. She had read it so many times over and knew exactly what it said, but that was no excuse to skimp on her fourth re-read of the book, that was vital information, wizarding children grew up hearing about Hogwarts castle, so she had to know everything about it as well.
The soft knock on the door made her scowl.
“I’m studying.”
“I know.” Dad walked in, as slowly as possible, like he was trying to waste her time on purpose.
“I’ll just finish reading and then I’ll go to bed.” Hermione volunteered, hoping he would leave her alone.
“You’ve read that twice already.” Dad pointed out.
“Three times.” She corrected. “The other kids heard about it much more than three times.”
Dad sat down on the bed and Hermione pouted. That meant he was set on staying and wasting her time even further, and she was only three quarters into the book.
“There’s nothing in that book that you don’t already know by now.”
She huffed. Yes, that much was true, but it didn’t mean she could be lazy about it.
“I’m just revising.”
“Princess…”
“Dad, I can’t ruin this!” She exploded. “The other kids will know I’m not a born witch and I’ll be alone there too!”
Dad sighed, looking very sad, and Hermione felt the tears coming to her eyes. Why did it always have to be like that?
“It won’t be like that, princess.”
“How do you know? City was exactly like that!”
He took her book and carefully marked the page before shutting it close.
“It won’t be like that because you are a witch, and the other kids will see that and how amazing you are, and you’ll forget to write home from how busy you’ll be with all your witch friends.”
She sniffed, her eyes tired and blurry with tears. Her Dad always had a way of thinking that if she would just “be herself” the other kids would want to be her friends, and Hermione wondered if he had forgotten what it was like to be 11 years old.
“Is everything alright?” Mum asked from the doorway and Hermione swallowed, trying not to cry.
“Hermione was just doing some last-minute studying.” Dad told her.
“Studying?” Mum stepped closer, leaning on the doorway.
“I need to know everything the other kids know, so they’ll see I’m a witch too.” She explained, her voice shaking.
Mum and Dad looked at each other and Hermione wondered if they would teach her how to read minds at Hogwarts so that she would understand what they meant when they did that.
“How many times did you read that book?” Mum asked, her problem-solving frown in place.
“Three.”
She nodded sharply.
“Then you know everything it says there.”
Hermione sniffed again, wiping the unshed tears from her eyes.
“Yes, but I keep forgetting parts.”
“That’s because you’re not giving your brain any rest.” Mum said in her problem-solving voice. “You need rest for your neural pathways to consolidate, so that you’ll remember what you’ve learned.”
Hermione frowned, giving the book a longing look.
“I’ll quiz you on it on the way to King’s Cross.” Mum promised. “I’ve read it four times already.”
Hermione looked up at her, surprised.
“I bet between us we can draw the Hogwarts map from memory alone, the other kids will be asking you for directions.” Mum winked at her, and Hermione couldn’t hold back a chuckle, already feeling calmer, while Dad said something about brilliant women on Mum’s side of the family.
Wiltshire
“Elf!” Draco called, stepping back to admire his work.
Dobby apparated into his bedroom with a quiet “pop”.
“Call my parents here.” He commanded, holding his hands behind his back as he surveyed the flawlessness of his room down to the clothes neatly folded in the trunk.
There was something he was forgetting, something about good manners, what was it… of course.
“At their convenience.” He finished, pleased with himself.
That was right, he should always show deference to his parents at home and his professors at school, even the half-bloods and worse, Father had insisted.
It was a sign of good breeding that he could be so perfectly polite to his inferiors, surely they would be most appreciative of that, and everyone would see that there was no family like the Malfoys, and Father would be very pleased with him. Draco could already envision Mother’s gyrfalcon sweeping down over the Slytherin table with a delivery of all the best bonbons from his favourite shop at the Place Caché.
Because surely Draco would be sorted into Slytherin, like all of his family on the Black and the Malfoy side, his parents had even bought the tie in the house colours already, there was no chance of him being sorted into any other house, he was the Malfoy heir and the Malfoys belonged in Slytherin, they always had.
So he would, without a doubt, be sorted into Slytherin.
There was a soft knock on the door and Draco lifted his chin unable to hold back a smile.
“Please, come in.”
Mother and Father walked into his room, her eyes analysing the space as Father looked at Draco’s perfectly organized trunk.
“What do you think?” He asked, barely able to contain the enthusiasm in his voice.
“I don’t recall acquiring a French-trained elf,” Mother said quietly, running her hand over his pillow. “Is this a surprise from you, Lucius, my love?”
“I tidied the room myself.” Draco announced in a very noble and proper voice.
“And your luggage?” Father lifted an eyebrow.
“I packed it.” He replied, wriggling his hands behind his back.
Mother had reminded him at the start of summer that the elves in Hogwarts would not be tidying up his belongings – which was truly shocking – and it would reflect poorly on the family if he allowed his section of the dormitory to devolve into a mess, so Draco had commanded Dobby to teach him how to tidy up a room, which was very resourceful of him, he thought.
“Dobby,” Mother called quietly, causing the elf to apparate by her side. “Take note of the state of this room. I wish to see all the bedrooms in the house meet this standard from now on.”
Draco was unable to hold back his triumphant smile as the elf nodded solemnly and Father walked to his trunk, surveying it with a silent nod.
“You’ve excelled again, darling.” Mother smiled warmly at him and Draco rolled his shoulders back, standing tall and proud like Father.
“Thank you, Mother.” His reply was a touch breathy from all his excitement. “My part of the dormitory will be the cleanest and everyone will know that the Malfoys are the grandest family there is.”
Mother’s smile widened and she sat down on his bed, holding out a hand to beckon him.
“My love, they only have to meet you to know.”
He didn’t run to her, because a gentleman doesn’t run, but he hurried intensely and sat down facing her.
“I’ll make you proud,” Draco promised, his eyes tingling. “I’ll be a credit to our family.”
Those were the words Father always said. Draco is a credit to our family, our pride and joy. He would make sure they had no reason to complain, he’d be the perfect student, the perfect Slytherin, the perfect Malfoy, after all, family came before everything else, and theirs was the grandest there was.
“I’m sure you will.” Father smiled, taking Mother’s hand over the covers.
“You’re wonderful, darling.” She tried to brush a lock of Draco’s hair out of the way and his throat felt odd.
“Can we go over the hair spell again in the morning?” He asked quietly.
“Of course.”
It wasn’t that Draco wasn’t excited about starting Hogwarts but the idea of being far from his parents for so long made him feel not afraid, he wasn’t afraid of anything, but apprehensive.
“Are there any precautions I should take?” Some of the apprehension showed in his voice and he was quick to clear his throat. “I packed some bonbons to share with the other Slytherins. To make a good impression and make connections.”
There, this was better, he sounded just like Father talking about work at the Ministry.
“You’re so thoughtful.” Mother smiled again. “Don’t worry, darling, I know you’ll thrive in Hogwarts.”
“And don’t worry about your connections.” Father joined her. “I’ll be surprised if the other kids aren’t queuing up to shake your hand.”
Draco nodded with a smile, wishing that the morning would come soon and at the same time wanting to have just another day to stay home.
“We couldn’t be prouder of you.”