Reading Time: 105 Minutes

Title: The Beginning of the End
Series: If Only
Series Order: 1
Author: Aussiefan70
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence-Against Children
Author Note:
Beta: Geminiangel
Word Count: 111,718
Summary: In which Harry learns he’s a wizard, wizards really know nothing about goblins, it’s okay to grow a new family if your relatives are terrible, having friends (and Snowy Owls) is amazing, and Headmasters aren’t always to be trusted. Also that Hogwarts, flying and learning magic are wonderful, but dark lords? Not so much.
Artist: Spuddoc

---

---

Chapter 5

On Sunday, September 1st, Soraya was woken at 6:30 am, by the sounds of a certain green-eyed, messy–haired eleven-year-old in the room next to hers, bumping and rustling around, muttering to himself. Donning a dressing gown and sliding her feet into a pair of slippers, she went into the hallway, to the second door, and knocked gently, calling out “Are you alright Harry?”

Her young friend and ward answered the door looking sheepish, then backed into the room in a silent invitation to enter.

Soraya followed Harry past his bathroom into his bedroom proper and gaped a little. It looked like a tornado had been through. And then she looked again. Truthfully, it was organised chaos. She’d expect little else of a boy who’d been raised to keep house perfectly, and who’d been responsible for entire spring cleanings from the age of five.

“Harry, it looks like everything you owned is laid out here. You know, you can leave what you won’t need at school here; it’ll be perfectly safe. This is your room after all. You had it all divided out beautifully yesterday morning, what say we…”

Unusually for the boy, Harry interrupted her, “But what if something happens to you, or this flat, or even Gastronomic Alley? What if the Muggles find this place and destroy it? It could happen, you know? Having all my stuff together would be safer, I’m sure of it.”

“Ahh Harry, I know no one can truly promise something, or someone, or somewhere will be there forever. I just know I have no plans to go anywhere without you, kiddo. You’ll always have a place with me when we’re both old and grey and complaining about our aches and pains if you want it. I won’t ever be leaving you or throwing you out if I can help it. And I promise to keep whatever you leave with me as safe as if it were my own.”

Harry hung his head, a little chagrined. Soraya had done so much for him over the last month, and now he was acting like he didn’t trust her, like he was going crazy.

Harry didn’t realise he’d spoken those thoughts out loud, and found himself the recipient of an immense hug and murmured reassurances that she would always make a home for him. At that, his anxiety began to recede. That left him looking at the mess he’d made, and he started giggling. All that work he’d done the day before, to make sure everything fit and was what he needed with him, now it would all have to be redone. And he’d bet it wouldn’t fit quite as well this time, things never quite worked out that well when they needed to be redone. Ah well, best get to it, it wasn’t going to pack itself. Unless…

“Are there packing spells that you can use to get a trunk filled properly? Seems like it would be right useful to know, for when I come back from breaks and stuff,” Harry tried to be as beguiling as possible.

“Nice try kiddo, but you pulled it out, you get to put it back. Them’s the breaks” Soraya struggled to keep a straight face as she issued the orders. Ringstar had warned her that Harry might have some separation anxiety about getting on the train (also a new experience) and leaving his new life here for Hogwarts. True, this wasn’t quite the way she’d expect the anxiety to manifest, but needs must; she’d hold the line until the task was done, then teach him the trunk packing spell.

It took nearly half an hour to put Harry’s room and trunk to rights. Soraya kept her part of the bargain, talking about different household and daily spells that could make life a little easier. Though Harry decided he’d still keep doing some things by hand, or he’d find himself getting lazy. Soraya smiled at the boy’s unshakeable work ethic.

Having finished re-packing, then putting all rest of his stuff back into its place in the room, he looked at Soraya expectantly. He’d been happy to see that the repacking of his trunk had been quite successful, and had worked out rather neatly.

“Well done Harry. Okay, the spell you wanted is stipant truncum. You make a small circle with the tip of your wand, as if to show you want magic to find everything of yours in the room, and then make a stabbing motion towards the trunk. You’ll want to focus on setting the intent to gather up even the hidden things. But it makes packing for breaks a real doddle. And it tends to find those odd things that go astray, like the other sock in a pair, or your favourite pen or quill, or the book a roommate borrowed and forgot to return.” With that, she led Harry to the front of the flat and proceeded to cook a full breakfast, just to start his day off right.

At 10:15, Harry’s antsiness couldn’t be contained any longer. Soraya pulled a shrunken lunch box out of the cool-box and had him put it in his backpack, where he’d also stored a book, Hedwig’s things already shrunk down, and his robes, along with his money pouch for treats from the trolley on the train. As she said to Harry, no point raising his anxiety any higher about starting school, by only eating sweets and junk food all day. She’d made sure the lunch box contained some favourites, and that he had enough to share.

Shrinking his trunk and putting it in his backpack, Harry took one last look around the flat, as if memorising it forever. Soraya pulled him in for another hug and reminded him he’d be back at Christmas, and she expected to mirror-talk with him no later than tomorrow morning, to find out where he’d Sorted. That cheered Harry up a little and he reminded her that they didn’t want to miss the train! Now the anxiety was shifting to excitement.

Laughing at the switch and Harry’s eagerness, she looped an arm through his, made a quick turn and Side-along Apparated to a secure Apparation point in an unused section of the station. Harry was a bit surprised to see kids and their families pushing trolleys, with caged owls and cats, sitting on top of trunks. Wasn’t that pushing the Statute of Secrecy just a bit?

Soraya answered his question as they walked in the direction of Platforms 9 and 10, which were tucked off to the side of most of the other platforms.

“The Department of Mysteries created a special spell many years ago. In essence, it puts a huge Notice-me-not charm over anyone with a magical signature in the entire station. They had to; the Obliviators threatened to go on strike if they had to work at Kings Cross Station on September First ever again.”

That little bit of trivia set Harry off laughing, and Soraya couldn’t help joining in.

Soon they were staring at a brick pillar between Platforms 9 and 10. Soraya had instructed Harry on how to access Platform 9 ¾, but he was still a bit nervous. Taking the hand Soraya offered him, Harry took a deep breath and walked into, and through, the brick wall, at her side. Clearing out of the way of anyone who might follow, Harry took in the sight, enamoured with the gleaming red train that was the Hogwarts Express, already working on building up a head of steam.

All around was the barely controlled chaos of hundreds of students, all their gear and animals, and their families, trying to get things safely onto the train and saying noisy goodbyes while adding raucous hellos to friends spotted on the platform. The ruckus made Harry glad that Hedwig had chosen the option to fly herself to Hogwarts; for a moment, Harry felt quite envious of her before he shook it off and focused on the present.

Soraya and Harry had already created a game plan for getting Harry on the train. The last thing he wanted was to be mobbed by The-Boy-Who-Lived groupies, and he still wasn’t entirely comfortable in big crowds, having been so isolated by the Dursleys all those years. Together, they ducked onto the last carriage, and worked their way up the corridor, looking for a quiet spot to get Harry settled. Even though it was only 10:35, the train was already half-filled, with students hopping on and off to drop their things and say their goodbyes.

Towards the front of the third carriage they tried, they found a compartment with only one other boy in it, another first year by the looks of it, if his size and general nervousness were anything to go by.

“Hi, mind if we share? My name’s Harry.”

“Err, no, not at all. Oh, I’m Neville Longbottom. Please come in. Are you a first-year too?”

Harry and Soraya entered the compartment, getting Harry settled in the window seat opposite Neville, before Harry answered, “Yep, I’m a firstie too, as Soraya here tells me we’ll be called by the older kids.”

Harry shifted his attention to Soraya for a minute, giving her one last farewell hug, and accepting her last good wishes for the Sorting and his first term, along with easily the tenth reminder to mirror-call later that evening.

She gave him a tight squeeze and asked, “Sure you don’t want me to wait and wave at you as you go?” a hint of gentle teasing in her voice.

“Nah, go on back home. Make Ches take you out to lunch somewhere, or go do something fun. You’ll just make me feel all funny as the train leaves if I have to watch you disappear out of the window.”

Soraya smiled a little at that insight. It seemed Harry was a little more aware of his separation anxiety than she (or Ringstar) had realised. Ruffling his hair one more time, she snuck in a final hug, a kiss to his forehead (despite making him blush) and said her goodbyes.

“I told my gran she didn’t have to wait either. I’m already nervous enough. If she stayed, she’d be just drowning me with instructions to do my mum and dad proud, study hard and repeat all the things she’s already been telling me for days. Anyway, she insisted on wearing her hat with a dead vulture on top. Who needs to give the other kids ammunition like that on their first day, right?” Neville seemed to run out of steam after that long speech.

“Sounds very reasonable to me,” Harry agreed. “But at some point, you’re going to have to tell me the story behind that vulture hat. It’s got to be a good one,” he finished, letting out a giggle.

Neville couldn’t resist joining in, and suddenly they were two eleven-year-old boys, strangers just moments ago, who were now well on their way to being friends.

“Well, we have a long train ride ahead, I’m sure I can work the story in somewhere,” Neville responded, once the giggles subsided.

“So who do you have there?” Harry asked, pointing to the terrarium that sat on the seat next to Neville.

“Oh, that’s Trevor. He’s a toad. My great-uncle Algie bought him for me, to congratulate me for getting my Hogwarts letter. He said I deserved something for finally proving I had more magic than a Squib. Would have preferred an owl or a cat, but I wasn’t exactly given much choice in the matter.”

Neville was quite matter-of-fact about his uncle’s view of himself, which raised red flags for Harry. He’d had plenty of sessions with Ringstar, identifying the forms of subtle abuse that could destroy one’s self-esteem.

“He sounds a bit rude. You got your Hogwarts letter, you’re as much of a wizard as any of us first years.” Then realising he didn’t want to be too pushy with his new friend, Harry switched subjects.

“Hagrid got me a snowy owl for my birthday. I named her Hedwig. Well truly, she agreed to Hedwig after I went through loads of other names. I even bought a magical baby name book, to find her just the right one. She didn’t want to ride on the train, so she’s already on her way to Hogwarts, using Wing Air as we joked at breakfast this morning.”

Neville, having had absolutely no exposure to the Muggle world, didn’t quite get the Wing Air reference, but figured it was a bit of a pun, and happily laughed along.

“So are you a Muggleborn then, Harry?”

“Sort of Muggle-raised really. My parents died when I was just a baby, and I was sent to live with my mum’s sister and her family. I only found out I was a wizard at the end of July. And then I ended up leaving my relatives and staying with Soraya, who’s my magical and Muggle guardian now. She was in Gryffindor a couple of years behind my mum and dad, and knew them a bit.”

Neville was putting together the jigsaw puzzle hidden in Harry’s story as he spoke.

“Wait, are you Harry Potter?”

“Erm, yeah….why?”

“Your mum and mine were friends at Hogwarts, even though Mum was a Hufflepuff. We were born one day apart, and your mum was named as my godmother, and mine was yours.”

Harry sensed a much deeper note to that statement and picked his way carefully through the topic.

“If the war hadn’t happened, I guess you and I would have grown up like cousins, maybe even brothers. Oh, that would have been wonderful, you’re already much nicer than my bully of a cousin Dudley could ever be, even if he tried to be on his best behaviour. Not that he ever would.”

Continuing to tread delicately, Harry asked, “Hopefully I’m not being too nosy, but I’m guessing something happened to your parents as well, given we weren’t raised together and your gran brought you to the station?”

“Yeah, a couple of days after your parents were attacked, some of You-Know-Who’s followers attacked my parents. They survived, but their minds are gone. They’ve lived at St Mungo’s ever since.”

Harry reached over and grasped Neville’s hand in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been tough growing up like that. Being able to see them, but they’re not able to act as your mum and dad. At least you have your gran.”

Neville let loose a soft sniffle, then cleared his throat. It was helpful to have a friend who got it. “Yeah, Gran is a good egg, but she has high expectations, wanting me to be like my dad. He was in Gryffindor, a year ahead of your parents actually, and went on to be an Auror, as did Mum. She even gave me Dad’s wand to use. Though I’m not very good at it. Not surprised that Uncle Algie wondered if I was a Squib.”

Harry desperately wished Soraya or Ringstar was there at that moment. He felt out of depth dealing with a friend who seemed to have as many issues as he did. And hadn’t Mr Ollivander said the wand chooses the wizard? He wondered if that was why Neville was struggling, and vowed to talk to Soraya and Firelock about it.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a long blast of the whistle giving the five-minute warning, and the sounds of a family rushing for the train through the open window beside him. A large party of redheads congregated on the platform below. The oldest one gave his parents stiff hugs before heading towards the front of the train. That left a set of twins a few years older than Harry, another boy around his age, as well as a girl a little younger if he was to guess.

They all talked loudly, the mother saying, “Well hopefully Harry Potter made it onto the train all right. Professor Dumbledore asked me to look out for him and make sure he got onto the platform, but you lot couldn’t get yourselves together as I asked, and now it looks like we missed him. Oh well, nothing to be done now, I suppose,” she finished with a sigh, then pulled out a handkerchief and proceeded to try to rub a smudge off the youngest boy’s nose, much to his dismay.

“Oh Mum, can we get on the train and look for Harry Potter? You know I wanted to meet him. I’m going to marry him someday, and be his princess!” the young girl whined.

Harry, from the window above, just groaned and half covered his face with his hand, while Neville patted his knee in commiseration.

“Now Ginny, you’ll meet Harry next year when you go to Hogwarts. Or maybe Ronnie will become his best friend when they both end up in Gryffindor together. We could invite him for Christmas break perhaps. Now Fred, and George, do try to stay out of trouble this term. Every detention Professor McGonagall writes to me about is going to mean an hour of de-gnoming the garden when you’re back home.”

The twins shuddered theatrically, then gave swift hugs to their mum and dad before disappearing onto the train.

The mother turned back to her youngest son, “Now remember what Professor Dumbledore told us, Harry won’t know much at all about our world, so make sure you are helpful whenever you can be. I’m sure you’ll be best friends in no time at all. Well, best be getting on the train, don’t want to be left behind,” were her final instructions, delivered with a rather perfunctory hug.

The boy, Ronnie it seemed, received a heartier hug from his father, along with quiet good wishes, then turned towards the train, hauling his trunk along with him. His father dashed over to the doorway in the carriage in front of them, helping lift the boy’s trunk in, before stepping back to see if Ronnie would find a spot in the window to wave goodbye.

Given the dad didn’t move, as the engine sounded its final warning whistle and doors started to close all along the train, it seemed that the boy was just standing there to be waved off, and would find a place once they were underway. Since it appeared most of the family seemed to be a bit obsessed with him, Harry hoped he’d move further down the train to look for a seat.

And it turned out that must have been what happened because the two boys kept the compartment to themselves for most of the rest of the ride. They spent the first hour on all the getting-to-know-you discussions, as the suburbs of London melted away behind them and open green spaces, with scattered houses and small towns, came into view.

After establishing some sad commonalities with their parents and being raised by other family members, they found they had several other shared interests. Neville was an absolute plant nut and spent loads of time in the family gardens and greenhouses, and while Harry was more fond of gardening for the fact it let him escape Dudley’s attention and get outdoors, he’d also come to enjoy the soothing nature of working in the garden.

Both boys had read ahead in their school books, keen to get a jump-start on their Hogwarts careers, and they spent quite a bit of time talking over what subjects they thought they’d like. They’d just moved on to where they thought they might be Sorted when the trolley lady came by and asked if they wanted anything.

Having been given the heads up that Harry had plenty of lunch to share, Neville joined his new friend in only grabbing a few things, to tide them over for later if needed. They both went for chocolate frogs and a cauldron cake each, while Neville added a pumpkin pastie. Harry, having decided all things pumpkin were overrated, got a bar of mint chocolate instead.

Harry pulled the shrunken lunch box out of his backpack and re-sized it, as Neville folded out the table between them, from its anchor on the wall below the window. A press of a button below extended the table further, allowing them to spread out and enjoy a proper meal. Soraya had packed the lunch as a surprise, so neither boy knew what to expect.

They were both in awe of what they found though. There were warm bowls of Thai chicken curry soup, Harry’s favourite from the Thai place in the Alley. Neville had never tried Asian food before but was hooked at the first spoonful. Then long stuffed baguettes, enough to save half for later, were pulled out, filled with roast beef, cheese and salad, with the spicy mustard Harry liked. It was Soraya’s version of the first meal Harry had eaten in the wizarding world and had become a favourite of them both.

The bounty continued. Soraya had put in some of her wonderful fluffy scones for afternoon tea, including both apricot and raspberry jam, along with clotted cream. But for dessert, there was some of Ringstar’s Carolina de Bilboa, along with a note wishing him good travels, which Neville raved over. When he asked where they were from, Harry just replied it’s a bit of a long story for later, but the dessert originated from the Basque region of Spain.

Soraya had even thought to include a large bottle of chilled lemonade, along with a Thermos of tea, with milk and sugar as well; she’d forgotten nothing. There was even a note to tell Harry to send the lunchbox back through the mirror box, so he could request refills if he ever wanted food from home.

She even hinted pizza might be on offer on occasion, and Harry crowed, “Best guardian ever!” before having to explain what pizza was to Neville, who volunteered to help him eat one sometime, just so he wouldn’t get sick from over-indulging. Harry just rolled his eyes at that and said it would be easier to do that if they were in the same House. Which returned them to their pre-lunch discussion of where they’d like to be Sorted.

They both agreed that Slytherin wouldn’t be a good fit for either. While both wanted to succeed in life, it wasn’t their primary goal. Enjoying what you do so you’d want to work at it, and being surrounded by friends and family was more important to both boys. They considered Ravenclaw for a bit, and while Harry tended to be more studious than Neville, particularly after going through Magic School, neither wanted to narrow their focus that much either.

Which left Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Neville was attracted strongly towards the House of the Badgers, which had been his mum’s house also. He also liked that the Herbology professor was the Head of House. And he’d spent so much of his life surrounded by his dad’s family and his dad’s story, that he felt quite disconnected from his mum, as his maternal grandparents were long gone and Alice had been an only child.

He’d had a letter from Professor Sprout earlier in the summer (she must have kept track of when he’d be starting school), sharing a few anecdotes about Alice’s time in Hufflepuff, and offering to tell him more when he got to school, whether he Sorted into her House or not. That generous spirit was deeply attractive to a boy who craved stories of his parents, which Harry could completely understand.

Neville was worried though, because his gran expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into Gryffindor. She’d shared stories of his time there, and it all sounded a bit too boisterous for a somewhat shy boy who’d been tutored at home and had a very limited social circle as a child. But he hated to disappoint his grandmother and found himself struggling greatly.

“I wonder how much of a choice we’ll be given?” Harry wondered. “Soraya said we could give our views, but the decision wouldn’t really be ours. It’s very frustrating no one will say how you get Sorted. But you could remind your gran that it’s not under your control if you don’t go into Gryffindor in the end.”

Neville relaxed a bit, Harry was right. He couldn’t truly be blamed (not for long anyway, he hoped) if he didn’t go into the House of the Lions. He’d never thought bravery was his most important character trait anyway.

“So what’s your thoughts, Harry? Hufflepuff or Gryffindor?” Neville asked.

“I only know the Houses from what Soraya taught me, and some lessons I’ve had in the past month. She was a Gryffindor, so her Hufflepuff information is a bit second-hand. But if everyone expects me to go into Gryffindor because that’s where Mum and Dad went, and all the Potters before Dad, and I have to put up with what we heard from that red-headed family, then I don’t think it would be right for me. And I’m like you, not used to loads of people around and having to be social all the time. I’m not sure I’d handle that very well. I’m leaning towards Hufflepuff as well. They’re known for hard work, friendship and loyalty, which suits me very well. And maybe people like to call them the duffers that don’t fit anywhere else, I bet having the Boy-Who-Lived (and his best friend) Sort there would make some people rethink that.”

Neville laughed, “Yeah, that’ll set the Kneazle among the Puffskeins.”

“Er, is that anything like the cat among the pigeons? Muggle-raised you know,” Harry whispered the last bit in a falsely confiding manner, knowing it would set Neville off again, and he was right.

“Well, it sounds like Hufflepuff for us then. Whoever goes first, make sure you let them know your best mate is coming too. Think that’ll work?” Neville asked.

Harry was nodding his agreement, when without warning, the compartment door was flung open and a bushy-haired girl with an imperious tone asked, “Has anyone seen a rat? It’s missing a toe on its left front paw. A boy called Ronald has lost one.”

Harry and Neville both denied seeing any wandering rats, thinking the abrasive girl would leave. But no, they weren’t quite that lucky.

“My name’s Hermione Granger. I’m a first year. Are you both first years too? I’m Muggleborn and my parents were ever so shocked to find out I was a witch, but now they’re totally behind me all the way. And I’ve read all our books already; it pays to stay ahead. How about you two? I’m hoping to get into Gryffindor, it’s supposed to be the best House. Headmaster Dumbledore was in Gryffindor, you know. Where do you boys think you’ll be Sorted? Well, it is polite to answer my questions, you know.”

“We were waiting for you to take a breath,” Neville answered, knowing Harry wouldn’t be able to because he was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I’m Neville, this is Harry. And we don’t know where we’ll be Sorted but we were thinking Hufflepuff would suit us both. But weren’t you looking for a lost rat? You know, if you ask one of the prefects, they may be able to do a Summoning charm to locate the boy’s pet.”

Suitably distracted from her interrogation, the girl commented she’d read about Summoning charms but they were too advanced, she’d tried them at home once she got her wand. Harry went to tell her about the Trace, but Neville shook his head subtly. It only applied once they’d been Sorted into a House, and if they started that discussion, the girl would never leave.

“Oh well, I must be getting on. Nice to meet you, Nigel and Barry. Maybe we’ll have some classes together and become good friends.” With that dire warning, she departed, slamming the door behind, leaving the boys to collapse on their seats from the laughter they’d stuffed down while Ms Granger was in the compartment.

“If they Sort alphabetically and she ends up in Hufflepuff, I guess we’ll both have to decide whether we can cope in Gryffindor,” was Harry’s emphatic observation.

“Too right!” Neville replied, “But I’m putting my money on Ravenclaw if she doesn’t boss whatever Sorts her into putting her in Gryffindor. Still, five minutes of arguing with her would guarantee I’d give in!” Harry and Neville shared a look and burst out laughing again.

“Well, enough of her and enough of worrying about the Sorting. I brought along some Muggle games that I learned to play in primary. Do you want to try them out? It’ll kill some time until we get to Hogsmeade; we’ve got hours yet. They’re in my trunk, so I’ll have to get them out. Being Muggle they don’t shrink and unshrink like magical items do.”

Neville rubbed his hands in anticipation, “Sounds like loads of fun. What games did you bring?”

Harry pulled his trunk from his backpack and set it on the seat beside him, before returning it to full size, and then going rummaging. It didn’t take long to find them, given he’d done a full re-pack only that morning, and he pulled out an armful of boxes for Neville to explore.

“Okay, we have board games and card games. Of the board games, there’s Cluedo, where you solve a whodunnit mystery, Snakes and Ladders, where you roll a dice and try to get to the top of the board. I’ve also got Monopoly, which is a game where you buy and sell houses and other real estate, and try to come out with the most money, but that’s a long game and better with more people. I’ve also got Yahtzee, you roll dice to make certain combinations, also Pass the Pigs, where you throw little pigs like dice and test your luck of how many rolls in a row you can get before you wipe out or stop. And there’s Uno, where you try to get rid of all your cards while making others pick up more. It can be a bit cut-throat. Oh, and there’s just a regular deck of cards, so Snap or Go Fish is an option too.”

Neville’s jaw had progressively dropped at the litany of games. “Muggles have this many games for kids? We only have Exploding Snap and Gobstones in the wizarding world, oh and Wizards Chess. Oh my, I don’t know which one to try. Umm, let’s start with Snakes and Ladders; it sounds the simplest.”

“That’s just a small sample of Muggle games Neville. Maybe over Christmas break, you can come to visit and we’ll go to a proper toy store, to see what’s out there. There’s even shops that only sell board and card games, nothing else. That might be even better.”

“That would be brilliant Harry,” Neville replied with a strong hint of anticipation. “Hopefully we can talk my gran into it. Well then, teach me how to play this game.”

The boys played several rounds of Snakes and Ladders, Neville catching on quickly. He was delighted when he won two out of three games but declared beginner’s luck, not wanting to hurt Harry’s feelings. Harry was touched by the consideration but assured him it was all the luck of the dice and he was not upset in the slightest.

They stopped playing for a bit and enjoyed their scones, which felt warm and fresh like they’d just come out of the oven. Harry had the apricot jam, Neville the raspberry. And because they were there and shouldn’t go to waste, Harry ate his cauldron cake, while Neville ate his pastie.

They’d just switched to Pass the Pigs and Harry was explaining the rules, when there was a knock at the door. Neville opened it and smiled widely at the girls standing there.

“Come on in, both of you. Harry, this is Susan Bones, her Aunt Amelia runs the DMLE, and that’s Hannah Abbott. These two have been best friends from the day they could talk and walk. We sometimes got together to play, and of course, there were social events we all had to attend as well, and we hung out together at those.” The roll of Neville’s eyes told them all they wanted to know about what he thought of social events.

“Hi Susan, hi Hannah. It’s nice to meet you. Want to join us in a game?” Harry asked.

The girls liked the idea and took their seats, Hannah next to Neville while Susan sat beside Harry. A riotous hour followed, with much amusement at the way the pigs landed, and cries of despair and joy over wipe-outs and wins. They then switched to Uno, and both Susan and Harry were surprised by the competitive streak that arose in their normally more mild-mannered friends.

The group had been playing Uno for nearly half an hour when Susan put two and two together. Looking closely at Harry’s forehead, which was covered by a messy fringe, and the colour of his eyes, she blurted out, “Oh Merlin, you’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?” This was closely followed by an apology for her rudeness, and causing him embarrassment by shouting his name out like a reporter for the Daily Prophet.

“Yes, I’m that Harry. And don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong. Something I’ve learned over the past month is that there’s a bunch of hype about me out there. Most of it isn’t even close to true, but I can’t expect people not to react a bit when we first meet. And anyway, now you and Hannah are my friends, and friends don’t get all bent out of shape over such little things.”

Reassured she hadn’t ruined things between them or for the group, Susan replied, “Thanks Harry, and we won’t tell anyone who doesn’t need to know. Hannah and I want to be in Hufflepuff and we know the meaning of loyalty.

And just like that, the awkward moment was over. Harry and Neville shared their hopes to join the Badgers too, and the group merrily resumed play, finishing off the chocolate they’d bought earlier from the trolley lady.

They didn’t notice the sun was setting until a prefect knocked on the door and warned them they were fifteen minutes out from Hogsmeade and they needed to put their robes on. It was simple enough for Harry and Neville, who threw their robes over their heads as they retrieved them from their trunk (Neville) and backpack (Harry). Harry waved his wand to perform the spell to remove wrinkles on both of them and promised to teach it to his friend when they got a chance. The girls had departed at high speed at the prefect’s announcement, intending more primping than the boys wanted to think about.

Soon the train slowed, then pulled to a halt. Now deep into twilight, the students emerged from the train, in a cacophony of shouts and chatter. Harry looked up when he heard a familiar voice.

It was Hagrid calling, “Firs’ years, all firs’ years to me. I need all the firs’ years.” He paused a moment, recognising Harry in the crowd. “All righ’ there Harry?” then went back to the task at hand, which was to lead the group of first-year students down a narrow, steep and slightly slippery path to the edge of the lake. Hagrid had a lamp which he held aloft to help everyone see, but Harry still cast Lumos with his wand, to ensure he, Neville, Hannah and Susan made the walk safely. As they rounded a point, on the path to the lakeshore, Hagrid alerted them that they’d be seeing Hogwarts next, and moments later, there she was in all her glory.

They were all entranced as the last of the day’s sun set behind the mountains, with the final rays throwing a golden corona around the castle. There were no words amongst the students, just sounds of surprise and amazement. The only one who spoke was Hagrid, who quite superfluously pointed out that there was Hogwarts and then rhapsodised for several long moments on how beautiful she was.

When they got to the bottom of the path, there was a small flotilla of open boats pulled up on the shoreline in an uneven row.

As they climbed in together, they heard Hagrid call out, “Only four ter a boat! Spread yerselves out, there’s room enough for everybody.” Thankfully that command stopped the red-headed boy (still with the smudge on his nose, and now chocolate perhaps on his chin) who’d decided it was easier to climb into the foursome’s boat than walk further along the water’s edge, where spaces were still available.

Everyone was soon settled though, and a call of “Forward” came in the form of Hagrid’s stentorian voice. That the call was accompanied by a more or less discreet wave of his umbrella, as the giant of a man settled into a boat of his own, went without comment. In the space of moments, the boats moved back from the shore and out onto the lake proper.

It was a just-long-enough and smooth ride across the lake. The students were either quietly entranced by the sight of the castle or just sharing soft comments amongst their boat mates. Before too long, they were approaching a hole in the cliff face, being warned to duck under the ivy, then being drawn along a rock-lined tunnel into a cavernous area with room for all the boats to pull up. It took little time for the flotilla’s passengers to all reach land, and then they were led up a damp passageway, Hagrid and his lantern in the front, Harry with his Lumos in the rear.

Soon, they exited out of a sheltered alcove tucked in close to the castle. Hagrid made sure all his ducklings followed as he led them up the steps to the main doors to the school. The wooden doors were huge and closed, so Hagrid took his mighty fist and pounded on them, relishing his part in creating a sense of ceremony for the new students.

Chapter 6

The first years stood before the enormous wooden doors that would permit them entry at last to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They were all pretty sure that Hagrid’s delicate knock (which likely shook most of the castle) would get the attention of someone inside, and the students were correct.

The door opened to reveal a tall, thin witch, with silver-threaded dark hair tied into a tight bun, who screamed of being a no-nonsense woman and nobody’s fool. Hagrid handed over custody of the first years to this witch, who led them into a small reception room off the Entrance Hall and introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House and the Transfiguration professor. Harry instantly decided she had to be seriously overworked.

McGonagall then gave an obviously well-rehearsed, and oft-repeated, speech about the House Sorting, and Houses as Family. She then left them to tidy themselves, particularly raising an eyebrow at the redhead with the marks on his face, to make sure everything was set for the Sorting.

Left to their own devices, the students muttered and fussed about what the process would entail, and to what House they might be going. Harry, Neville, Susan and Hannah refused to worry; they’d gotten that all out of the way on the train. So they stood quietly, gazing around the room, and were the only students not surprised by the Hogwarts ghosts appearing through the walls, simply watching them with amusement.

Their ghost-watching was interrupted by Professor McGonagall’s return and it was fun to watch them depart through a different wall, complaining because they’d wanted to stay and chat. The group was led back across the Entrance Hall, to the main entrance to the Great Hall and another set of immense wooden doors. In two more or less straight lines, the students marched down the centre of the Hall, very aware that all eyes were on them, and struggling not to stare at the magnificent charmed ceiling above, or the array of students surrounding them.

They arrived at the front of the Great Hall and were immediately befuddled because just in front of the staff table sat a hat on a stool. Then suddenly the hat became animated and a crease just above its brim opened, as a song rang out. The Hat explained the various Houses to the students in the form of a song, then went silent as Professor McGonagall began the Sorting.

With her surname (Abbott) so low in the alphabet, they’d all guessed she was going first, and Hannah was the first one called. Harry clapped loudly along with their other friends when she was immediately sent to Hufflepuff. Susan took little more time than Hannah to end up beside her friend at the ‘Puff table.

Neville sat on the stool for several minutes, and he later revealed to Harry that the Hat wanted him to be sure he’d be alright if he went against his gran’s wishes, if he went to Hufflepuff. It seemed the Hat would notify a Head of House with any and all concerns about the safety of the students at home.

Hermione Granger had also been under the Hat for a long time, but the look on her face suggested that it was because she was fighting to be placed where she wanted over where she was suited. Afterwards, the Hat radiated a clear sense of “On your head be it” for the choices the bushy-haired girl had made, calling out Gryffindor with an almost palpable sense of reluctance.

Before he knew it, Professor McGonagall was calling “Potter, Harry”, and to his frustration, the level of chattering and pointing rose to new heights for the evening as he walked to the stool, and sat under the Hat.

“Ahh Mr Potter. I must admit, I’ve already heard mention of you from Misses Bones and Abbott, as well as Mister Longbottom. They all think you should join them amongst the Badgers. What say you, lad?”

Harry was startled, not expecting the voice of the Hat to be in his head.

“Oh hello. Umm, it seems very rude to just call you Hat. And Mr Hat seems strange. Do you have a name?” Harry inquired.

“It’s been many a year since anyone asked Mr Potter and everyone who did ended up in Helga’s House. Will you be the same I wonder? But yes I do have a name. I’m Herrick and you’re very welcome to call me that. Shall we get to the Sorting? The natives are getting a little restless.”

Herrick chuckled at his own joke.

“Oh of course. Sorry to hold you up Herrick,” Harry replied politely.

“You are an interesting lad. I can tell you have good qualities from all the Founders. You want to succeed in your new world, and I can see the ambition to change things for children like you in the future. Slytherin might help you develop some of the skills that would help your goals along, but I think it fits least well overall.”

Herrick continued, “You certainly have a drive for knowledge and would make Ravenclaw proud, but I sense it’s not enough for you just to do well academically.”

Harry thought Herrick was a very perceptive Hat and told him so.

“Such a pleasant experience to Sort you, young Harry, thank you. Now, let’s consider the Lions. Dumbledore would have you there, you know. And while you show plenty of courage, I can see that you’re not inclined to go off half-cocked, as many Gryffindors do. I’m afraid you’ve already learned the hard way that that’s a dangerous path.”

Harry agreed with that opinion as well.

“Hmm, so I can see the attraction of Hufflepuff to you. You value hard work and teamwork, you’re intensely loyal to those you consider friends. It’s been a long time since an ally of the Guduriak has sat under me. The Ravenclaw head of House was the last one. He’d be good for you to get to know. No, you and your friends are right, and your asking for my name confirms it. You’re most suited to be placed in HUFFLEPUFF!”

Herrick shouted the last word for the entire Great Hall to hear.

Harry took a moment before removing the Hat, to thank Herrick and ask if they might talk again sometime during the year, to which Herrick happily agreed if the opportunity arose. Harry then stood, placed the Hat on the stool, and turned around to a standing ovation from his three friends waiting for him, and raced to join them.

Soon the whole of Hufflepuff was on their feet, while the rest of the Houses (and most of the staff) recovered their composure from the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s placement with the duffers, and managed some polite applause.

Pomona Sprout was standing at the head table, applauding wildly and one time, putting two fingers between her lips to let loose an appreciative whistle. Filius Flitwick was also largely unshocked. He was a second cousin to Swifthorn and had heard some tales of how well Harry had been welcomed by the Guduriak, to the point he’d been invited into the Enklabe. He was looking forward to seeing where this young man would go, though it was a pity he hadn’t had time to get in the teacher’s pool for where students would Sort. He’d have made out like a bandit. He wondered idly if Pomona had managed to place a bet.

Finally, the ruckus settled down and the rest of the Sorting continued undisturbed. The only other slight slowdown was for the redhead with the dirty face, who turned out to be Weasley, Ronald. He also appeared to be arguing a bit and seemed disgruntled to hear the word “Gryffindor” called out. Harry and Neville agreed that, based on the conversation they’d overheard on Platform 9¾, he’d probably tried for Hufflepuff, aiming to become friends with Harry. They were exceedingly glad that Herrick had stood firm.

When Susan asked who Herrick was, Harry explained, and before long the news had spread up the entire Hufflepuff table. It was a source of pride that only Hufflepuffs ever asked the Hat for its name, though quite a few members felt shamefaced that they hadn’t even considered inquiring.

When that news reached Harry, he hastened to reassure them that very few first years had the wherewithal to chat with an artefact from the time of the Founders. Given Herrick had agreed to talk to Harry again, perhaps the Hat would be open to chatting with others as well. Gabriel Truman, who was a sixth-year prefect, resolved to talk to Professor Sprout about making this happen.

Finally, the last student was sorted, with Zabini, Blaise going to Slytherin. At that moment, the Headmaster stood up from his gold throne at the staff table. He welcomed them all with a twinkling smile, spoke four words as if at random, and food appeared on the tables before them. There was so much food that Harry thought it might bow the table. He hastily swallowed the nutrition potion that Swifthorn had given him. All being well, he might be done with them by the end of the month, thanks to all the hard work of the Guduriak Healers.

Several people noticed the potion, despite Harry’s best efforts. Professor Snape recognised the colour of the potion and wondered why someone as pampered as the Boy-Who-Lived would need a nutrition potion. Perhaps he’d been ill recently and needed building back up. It was odd though; usually, families sent word if students needed potions, as he’d be the one tasked to brew them.

Professor Sprout also noticed, but she was aware of some of Harry’s issues, as Ringstar had been certain Harry would be coming into her House. She and Poppy Pomfrey had been taken partly into confidence and would receive the rest of Harry’s medical history now he’d been officially Sorted.

The final person paying attention was Albus Dumbledore. Dressed as always in bright, often garish robes, today he sported a deep purple robe, with silver and gold shooting stars flying across the fabric. His trademark twinkle was dimmed at the sign that Harry had clearly received magical medical care. He wouldn’t have had that at the Dursleys, which begged the question of how he’d been exposed to more of the wizarding world than the limited opportunities presented by a day in Diagon Alley with Hagrid. The situation would bear watching. The last thing he wanted to deal with was outside interference in his plans for the boy.

Meanwhile, Harry and his three friends at the Hufflepuff table were getting to know the other first years. They were rather proud of the fact that they had snagged eleven of the forty first years in their House!

The first one to join in the conversation was Megan Jones. Cousin to the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Gwenog Jones, Megan was a bit Quidditch mad and shocked Harry had never seen a game.

“I’ll talk to Gwenog and we’ll get tickets to a game sometime. There’s always one over the Christmas break, even though you’d think they’d get a holiday then too.”

Harry thought that would be brilliant, and said so enthusiastically, having already fallen in love with flying.

Next was Jillian Oswestry (‘call me Jill, please’), a Muggle-raised half-blood whose parents ran a nursery outside of York. Needless to say, she and Neville hit it off, and the two were already making plans to visit each other over the break, to check out each other’s greenhouses.

Gwendolyne Hedgeflower started the conversation by looking at Harry’s feet for some odd reason. Then she said her Dad owned the Boots’n’All shoe store in Diagon Alley. Harry mentioned he’d admired the dragon-hide boots in the front window, and was chuffed to hear the hide was sustainably sourced, and that all the first years qualified for the friends and family discount now. Hmm, Harry pondered. Boots might be a bit big for Hedwig unless they could be shrunk. Maybe Soraya could send them along via the mirror-box.

Hannah Abbott shared that she and Susan Bones had been best friends since they were toddlers, and had later attended the magical primary school near Ely. Her great-uncle was Tom Abbott who ran the Leaky Cauldron.

Susan jumped in with the introductions then, explaining she lived with her aunt and father near Cambridge, and that her Aunt Susan ran the DMLE, then explaining the acronym to the Muggleborn first years.

Kay Formby was one of those Muggleborns and hailed from Durham. She’d been luckier than Harry though, because once she’d shown signs of accidental magic, her mum’s sister-in-law, who was a Squib, was permitted to break the Statute of Secrecy, so she’d grown up knowing more about magic than most. Her parents owned a bakery, and Kay promised loads of goodies on a regular basis. Hannah, who had a bit of a sweet tooth, instantly proclaimed her a goddess amongst students and promised to be her eternal servant, for enough sweets. A gust of laughter shot around the first-year group at Hannah’s dramatic declaration.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was also a Muggleborn and was a bit surprised to get his letter to Hogwarts when he’d been down for Eton since birth. His parents were very well-to-do, with his mother often seen in the society pages supporting her favourite charities (given they were primarily oriented to children, Harry was already impressed). His father was a financier but was often mentioned on the front pages of the news, advising people at the highest levels of government and business. Despite his background, Justin was a very easy-going sort, and he was extremely excited to explore the wizarding world.

Graham Romsey was a pureblood boy from Canterbury. His dad was also involved with Quidditch, having played for the Montrose Magpies as a Keeper, before retiring to become a Quidditch umpire. Graham was mad keen on following in his father’s footsteps, and so were his twin brothers, who were two years younger. He also promised Quidditch tickets for the whole group.

The next of the ‘Puff first years to chime in was Ernie MacMillan. From an old wizarding family, Ernie’s grandfather was a prominent member of the Wizengamot, and known for taking on all sides to ensure fairness and equal rights to all magical beings, something a bit out of the ordinary for families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Ernie had grown up enjoying rousing political debates with his grand-dad, and Susan joked she’d found her kindred spirit.

Elbowed by Harry to speak up, Neville briefly reported he lived with his gran in the Cotswolds, and they had a long history of achievements in the horticultural world, which was his passion.

Harry went to introduce himself and was gently teased with “We know who you are” comments. But Harry just replied, “You can’t always believe what you read in the newspaper!”

He explained he’d been sent to live with his mother’s sister and her family, but that hadn’t worked out too well. So he’d recently been appointed a magical guardian named Soraya Whittaker, and he’d spent the last month getting to know the magical world. The other students picked up quite readily on the subtext that Harry hadn’t had all those magical adventures the books had talked about, and the more astute amongst them wondered just exactly what Harry’s home life had been like.

While they were all getting to know each other better, Harry had steadily worked his way through roast lamb with all the veggies, tried the shepherd’s pie and pronounced it good, as well as tasting the chicken and leek pie, and being impressed. But he was careful to pace himself. Even after a month of regular eating, it was a little too easy to overeat and end up feeling sick. He took a small piece of treacle tart, something he’d become a little addicted to, along with a thin slice of cheesecake. And bless the house-elves, they’d been willing to supply him with orangeade with his meal. He still couldn’t stomach pumpkin juice and rather thought he never would.

He was also grateful that Firelock had arranged for him to meet and talk to a house-elf during Magic School, so he understood their history, and their need to be bonded with another magical being to remain healthy and sane. He suspected Clancy had popped up from Gringotts to share Harry’s dietary issues and preferences with the Hogwarts elves because they hadn’t missed a trick in the food that had appeared right before him.

As the dinner hour wound down, all eyes turned back to Harry. Giving a sigh, he knew he wasn’t going to avoid this, and he’d worked with Ragnok and Firelock on what information he wanted to get out and when, knowing it would all reach Dumbledore’s ears eventually.

“Let’s just say, about the only thing that’s true that was published about me, was my mum and dad were killed by Vol…” he paused when most everyone around him shuddered. “Oh, we have to come up with a name we can use. You-Know-Who is ridiculous, but at least it’s shorter than the alternative.”

For a few minutes, everyone threw out ideas. Harry loved Kay’s suggestion of ‘Fold-a-dork’ though the magically raised needed to have ‘dork’ explained to them, which was followed by a round of laughter. Susan said her Aunt Amelia called him THI, short for ‘The Hyphenated Idiot’. That too set off a laugh. The group tied on a vote of which one to use and decided both were good enough to be used interchangeably.

Harry continued his story. “Somehow I ended up with my mum’s magic hating, Muggle sister, instead of with a wizarding guardian, including my godfather or godmother. My aunt, her husband, and their son are not nice people and absolutely hate magic. They told me my parents were drunken layabouts who were killed in a car accident. I had times when I did accidental magic, usually trying to escape from my bully of a cousin and his mates. Sometimes I didn’t manage to get away though.”

Harry had worked with Ringstar on how to share this and maintain his control, and he was glad they had.

“Anyway, they worked me like a house-elf without any magic, fed me as little as possible, and generally treated me very poorly. I didn’t know I was even a wizard until my birthday at the end of July.”

There were gasps from around the table, and some of the second years leaned in to hear the story. At the staff table, both Flitwick and Sprout were using listening charms, knowing that the more information they had at hand the better. Dumbledore attempted it but didn’t know that Ragnok had added a protective feature, linked to the Headmaster’s magical signature, that blocked him from eavesdropping either close up or remotely. Which caused him much frustration and perturbation.

Harry proceeded to give the short version of becoming allied with the goblins, using the more widely known term, and thus helping to keep the Guduriak identity limited to only those that they felt worthy of sharing it with. He joked about the dubious joys of going through major healing, the thrill of finally and legally getting away from the Dursleys, the novelty of being put into Magic School and how he’d learnt so much, along with all the fun stuff they’d done on the weekends and when they had breaks.

The other students listened slack-jawed, mostly horrified by even the small parts Harry has shared about growing up with his relatives, but also sharing in his joy of escaping once he got his Hogwarts letter. Harry just ducked his head shyly when he was done, still unused to anything but negative attention.

Meanwhile, at the staff table, both Flitwick and Sprout realised the other had been eavesdropping. The Charms professor leaned over, careful to avoid falling off his stack of cushions, cast a silent, wandless privacy spell, and said, “I suspect we both have additional information to share. Perhaps we can discuss this next weekend, when we’ve had a chance to see how Mr Potter is doing in class, and is settled in?”

“Neither of us is on patrol Friday evening. Shall we meet in my quarters at eight? They’re a bit more secluded than yours in the tower, and we wouldn’t want any gate-crashers joining us, would we?”

Interrupted by Dumbledore calling an end to dinner, and the clearing of the tables, they hastily nodded in agreement, as the Headmaster stood to make his announcements.

However, Flitwick had a sudden thought and pulled parchment and quill out of his pocket to write a brief note to the Weasley twins, offering one get-out-of-detention-free deal, if they didn’t sing the Hogwarts song at a funereal pace at the end of the night, as they were wont to do. He charmed it to be invisible until it touched one of the twins’ hands and used a modified levitation charm to float it over to the Gryffindor table. Fred Weasley opened the square of parchment, and showed it to George (Flitwick was one of the few that could tell them apart), they grinned in stereo, then nodded in agreement. Flitwick sighed; that was one trouble sorted, as he turned his attention back to Albus Dumbledore who was rabbiting on about the Forbidden Forest, Filch and Quidditch trials.

The entire Hall perked up when Dumbledore got to his final item though, as he warned them of certain death if they went out of bounds into the right-hand side third-floor corridor. While Flitwick rolled his eyes, Harry and Neville stared at each other, as if to ask “Is he bonkers?” The rest of the first-year group didn’t look much less alarmed. Susan, who had already resolved to owl her aunt about Harry’s past, and to look into who had placed him with his relatives, knew she’d be adding this extra tidbit to the letter. She mentally shook her head at all the insanity.

But their musings were interrupted by a sudden cacophony of noise. Wait, the school song had no set tune? More insanity. Meanwhile, the first years across all tables just stared, feeling useless. It would have been nice if they’d been given the lyrics; how were they supposed to join in? Heaving a sigh at the inanity of it all, Harry spent the couple of minutes that this insult to music lasted, planning everything he’d tell Soraya when they got to mirror-talk later. It seemed that there was so much to say, it was hard to believe he’d only left home that morning. And maybe there’d be time to call Ringstar and Firelock too.

When silence finally reigned, the six Hufflepuff prefects took the first years in hand, leading them down to the Hufflepuff entrance by the kitchens. While most Houses just used the fifth-year prefects for this, Professor Sprout asked that all her prefects escort the new students, allowing them to start to get to know each other as individuals.

Arriving at the stack of large barrels, Douglas Bristow, one of the seventh-year prefects, halted the group.

“This is our entrance. It works similarly to the way you can get through the brick wall between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley, for those who’ve used that entryway. So you’ll tap a sequence of barrels like this,” and he demonstrated the five-tap sequence as the passcode. “If you forget the passcode, tapping this metal rim of this barrel six times will result in a bell ringing in the common room, for someone to come and verify you’re a Badger. Please respond to those bells if you’re in the common room, it’s not just prefects who have permission to let one of our own in.”

“Now I’ll have you all tap the sequence. For those musically inclined, assigning a musical note to each barrel is a great way to remember the passcode. And the rhythm is ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. Now, one more thing while we’re here. This painting to my left, with the bowl of fruit is, believe it or not, the kitchen entrance. There is a trick to trip the switch to enter. However for first and second years, if you need anything from the kitchen, please ask a prefect to relay your request. Usually by third year, everyone’s mature enough to be allowed kitchen access. But please remember, the house-elves are incredibly busy and are not personal servants. Okay, enough of me being officious, let’s head inside.” And he gave an infectious grin as he led the first years into the common room.

Once the barrels opened, Harry and his new friends found themselves ascending a gently sloping passageway, through a rammed earth tunnel. But it soon opened out to a circular common room that was airy and filled with light. Harry thought that strange, given the high circular windows (it seemed they were partly below ground level here) showed only the darkness of night. Painted a warm, buttery yellow colour, with black accents – the House colours, it was perfectly round, low ceilinged and meant to invoke the feel of the inside of a badger sett.

One half of the room seemed more dedicated to study, with tables and chairs, along with a large bookcase curving around the lower half of the wall in the study space. They appeared to be filled with reference books, which would cut down fighting for resources in the library. The other half of the room held couches and armchairs, floor pillows and bean bag chairs, with the floor comfortably cushioned with thick rugs. Low tables were scattered around, perfect for games or group projects, with fireplaces spaced around the walls to improve the cosiness in cooler months.

And on every shelf, in every nook and cranny, a profusion of plants thrived, driving Neville and Jillian a little spare, because they really wanted to explore this inside garden and instead had to pay attention. Harry noticed their frustration and just smiled.

Professor Sprout popped in through the entrance as the entire House settled in chairs or on the floor as they found spots to sit, though the first years were directed to sit up front.

“Welcome back my dears! And welcome to our incoming first years. We’re glad to have you with us. A little housekeeping first. You’ll find a copy of the updated House rules in your dorms, on each of your beds. It also lists all House members and prefects, to help you get to know everybody.

“We have a brief House meeting at 7:30 every Sunday night. We don’t tend to have a lot of problems with each other in this House, but sorting them out and not letting things fester makes us all happier. It’s also a time for asking questions or bringing up issues, perhaps even proposing group projects that can better our House and School. Quidditch trials are available to second years on up. I believe we’re looking for a Chaser and a Beater. We also field a full reserve team and play more casual matches throughout the year, allowing many more people to play than perhaps they do in other Houses. Any questions so far?”

She scanned the room, finding no raised hands, then continued. “There are several student clubs available. I run the Herbology Club, while Professor Flitwick supervises the Charms Club. There are also House teams for Gobstones and Wizards Chess. Meeting times will be posted on the bulletin board. Finally, we are family here in Hufflepuff, we hate to see anyone struggling. In addition to scheduled office hours in my capacity as Herbology Professor, I am available from 7 am to 9 pm each day as your Head of House. If I’m not in my office, a wand pressed to the engraving of a willow tree by my door will allow me to talk with you, and arrange when and where to meet. If I don’t answer and it’s urgent, find a prefect. I’m probably stuck in an interminable staff meeting and wishing for escape.”

The professor finished that last sentence with a confiding grin, setting a chain of smiles off around the room.

“Second years on up, you’re dismissed. Go find where the house-elves decided you’re sleeping this year. Remember, lights out for second and third years is 10 pm. Everyone else, do try to get a halfway decent night’s sleep. Someone inconsiderate soul scheduled classes for tomorrow morning.”

That set off more smiles and laughter around the room and also served to relax the first years a little more, which was entirely Pomona Sprout’s intent.

“So bear with me a little bit longer, my first years. I want to make sure I have everyone’s name straight, and then help you find your dorms. Also if you’ve got any questions that absolutely must be answered tonight, we can go over those too.” And she proceeded to name all eleven students correctly, rather to their shock.

“Always was good with names. Probably comes with having to learn all the strange names that people come up with in the Herbology field. So…dorms. Hogwarts is a clever sort of castle. We have choices. We can do two smaller girls and boys dorms each, or put all six girls together into one dorm, and do the same for you five boys. Unlike other Houses, you get a bathroom to yourself for just your year. It pays to be down in the lower parts of the castle. We can spread out a little. I saw you all chatting at dinner, so you’re already closer than many of my first-year cohorts. What do you think you’d like?”

Professor Sprout gave them a few minutes to discuss, though it was an easy choice. Both the girls and boys wanted to stay together and not be split up.

“Ah, wonderful. I thought that might happen. If something happens later in the year, perhaps someone has terrible difficulty sleeping or is sick, we can change things around, even if it’s just a temporary thing. But for now, we’re all set. Follow me, ladies, we’ll sort the lads out in just a minute,” then she led the six girls away.

It was just shy of ten minutes before the professor returned, and led the boys through the other round doorway, down a short hall and stopping at the first door.

“Your home away from home awaits,” she called out, opening the door with a flourish. Inside was a large rectangular room, with the signature round windows of the House on the opposite wall, though these were larger, permitting more of a view of the grounds than the common room. Perhaps the ground sloped away from the castle here, so they could be bigger, Harry thought.

There were three beds on one wall, with two beds facing on the opposite side of the room. Harry and Neville had the two-bed side of the room but shared their common wall with the entrance to the bathroom, which held three showers, three stalls and five sinks set into cabinets, so each boy had space to set their toiletries out. The dorm room had a fireplace on the far window wall, with some comfortable chairs circling it, and there were individual study desks forming a line up the centre of the room.

Harry went to explore his bed area. In addition to a very comfortable-looking four-poster bed with rich golden-coloured bed curtains for privacy, each student’s space also held a side table, and a combination dresser/wardrobe. The students could largely unpack most of their trunks, using them for overflow storage at the end of their beds. The headboard of the bed incorporated a bookshelf and a magical reading lamp that answered to the commands of Lumos and Nox, like their wands.

“Any questions boys? Neville, you look like you do.”

Professor Sprout was one of the few Heads of House willing to relax enough to use first names with their students.

“I was admiring all the plants in the common room. Is it permitted for us to have our own plants here? I’ve got a mimbulous mimbletonia I’ve been cultivating indoors for four years. I’d love to have my gran send it along if possible.”

“Of course you can, Neville. If it’s too big for owl post, I can arrange to open my Floo and have your grandmother bring it through, or I could go fetch it. Just say the word. And if you’d like to help tend the plants in the common room, let me know and we’ll put whoever is interested on the schedule. All right then. Time for bed I’m thinking. It’s after ten. We’ll meet in the common room at 7:30 tomorrow morning for schedules and questions, then head off to breakfast together. Sleep well.”

And then the five boys had the dorm to themselves. They all did the minimum in nighttime ablutions, suddenly very tired, then got into pyjamas, and hopped into bed. Harry pulled his curtains around, then put up the silencing spells Soraya had taught him. He opened his mirror-box and called her name, smiling when her face appeared in an instant.

“So how was your first day and where did you Sort? she asked.

“It was brilliant. Neville and I spent the whole train ride together. Then Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott joined us for some of the games I packed. They’re both loads of fun. And all four of us ended up in Hufflepuff!” Harry finished excitedly.

“Yes!” Soraya executed a sitting happy dance. “Ches owes me five Galleons. He was sure Gryffindor would win out. Firelock and Ringstar won’t be surprised though, they thought like me.”

“I was going to call them tonight, but honestly, I’m shattered. Perhaps tomorrow night. But send them my love, would you? Anyway, the rest of the first years seem pretty cool. We had a good time getting to know each other during the Feast. And two of them have Quidditch links, one to the Holyhead Harpies and the other to some Magpie team. So we may be able to go to a game or two over the Christmas break! Anyway, they all seem pretty nice people, with a real mix of backgrounds. And our common room and dorms are lovely. Oh, and Professor Sprout seems really cool. Wicked sense of humour.” Harry finally paused to take a breath.

Soraya laughed, “I’m glad you’re having a good time so far. No concerns about anything so far?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Actually, yeah, two. There was this family that raced into the station at the last minute. They were talking below our window, so Neville and I couldn’t help but hear. A bunch of red-heads, loads of kids.”

“That’ll be the Weasley family,” Soraya interjected.

“Yeah, that’s the name. They have a son, Ronald, in my year. Anyway, they were talking about how Dumbledore wanted them to wait at the barrier because he was sure I would need help through, and okay, Hagrid did forgot to tell me, but it sort of sounded like a set-up. And Ronald wants to be my best mate, even though I don’t even know him. His mum said I could join my ‘best mate’ at their place for Christmas, and his younger sister wants to marry me. It was just weird. And more than a bit…icky.”

“You’re not wrong there, I can sense an interfering Headmaster at work. I’ll let Ragnok and Firelock know about this in the morning.” Soraya paused for a moment, “I get the feeling there’s something else?”

“Umm, at the Feast, at the end of the announcements, Dumbledore talked about staying away from a corridor on the third floor, somewhere on the right-hand side…and that’s a pretty vague description when I think about it. I hope they’ve got it roped off or something. Anyway, the reason he gave for staying away was for fear of certain death! I could tell by their faces that all my friends thought that was crazy! I mean, who leaves something that dangerous in a school? None of us are going anywhere near it, I can tell you. But there’ll be some kids who think that’s just a challenge for them to beat. I have a feeling Susan is going to write to her Aunt Amelia about it. She’s the head of the DMLE, I think.”

“She is indeed. And a very good resource. It helps that she’s probably one of the most trustworthy people at the Ministry. I’ll pass all this along as well. I suppose I should play the good guardian and tell you to go to sleep now. You’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” Soraya offered a gentle smile.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired. Gonna miss you tucking me in though…just don’t tell anyone that. Okay, ‘night Soraya. I’ll try to catch you tomorrow night. You sleep well too. Goodnight.”

Harry offered a wave as Soraya returned the goodnight wishes and they shut their mirror boxes, ending the connection. And in truth, both of them were missing the tucking in, and the soft kiss on the forehead goodnight. But it didn’t take long for Harry to drift off, with a quiet Nox being his last action before he slid into a deep sleep.

Chapter 7

Monday morning, Professor Sprout met her first years in the common room, to hand out schedules, and escort them to both breakfast and their first class. She liked to do a little bit more than most Heads on the first day, recognising that many first years were away from home for the first time and that they’d be more comfortable asking any questions in the safety of their own House space.

Ernie Macmillan groaned audibly when he saw their first class of the day was double Potions. His cousins had warned him about Professor Snape. While he tended to be hardest on Gryffindors, it was far from an easy or sarcasm-free class for the other Houses, with the exception of his own, Slytherin. Being no neophyte when it came to reading her students, Professor Sprout knew exactly what had caused that reaction.

“I gather, Mr Macmillan, that you are worried to see Potions first on your schedule. Let me assure you, while Professor Snape is about as far from a cuddly teddy bear as you can imagine, he is one of the top Potions Masters in this country. He maintains strict control in his classes because it helps keep you all safe. Before Professor Snape took over, there was at least one student a year who was permanently maimed in Potions accidents, there has been none since. And the episodes of students needing Madam Pomfrey’s attention has dropped by eighty percent.”

Most of the first years gaped at that.

“I will give you the advice that I have given to many of your predecessors. Read ahead for your Potions class – know the material, follow all instructions scrupulously, and give Professor Snape the respect he deserves. And if a conflict arises that cannot be resolved, I am always here to mediate on your behalf. But be aware, I’m a sweetheart normally, but not a pushover, so you’d better have grounds for your complaint.”

The older students around the room (who’d delayed going to breakfast just to enjoy this annual speech) chuckled at her words. Every one of them was true. Professor Sprout would be your best ally unless you crossed her boundaries. And then you’d see why badgers had a reputation for being ferocious. It was never a pretty sight when their Head of House had to pull out that side of her, particularly on one of her own.

“Now, after Potions, you’ll have a free period before lunch, with History of Magic, then double Charms after. I will be teaching most of today, but we have arranged for a prefect to be available to escort you to each class and to lunch. During your free period, Mr Truman will be available for those who wish to find the library, and he will show you where to find the resources you’ll use most in first year. But please feel free to ask an older student or prefect, or myself during office hours, if you get lost, stuck in your homework, or generally over your head with anything. We Hufflepuffs always take care of each other. Now, who’s hungry for breakfast?”

There was a rousing cheer and the first years trailed their way behind their Head of House, through the barrels, and up to the Great Hall.

~0~0~

After a generous breakfast, Harry and Co, as the first-year Hufflepuff group had already been dubbed by the prefects, followed Professor Sprout to the dungeons and were left to wait for the classroom to be unlocked. They were soon joined by the Ravenclaw group, and on the dot of 9 am, Professor Snape swept down the hall, unlocked the classroom and ordered them in. The room was set so they sat in pairs, and for the first class at least, the two groups remained separated by House.

Harry took a seat two rows from the front, and pulled out a notebook and several pens of different colours, ready to take down whatever he needed. Neville, who sat beside him and was looking increasingly nervous, did a double take at the Muggle items. Harry whispered that he’d already asked Professor Sprout if it was alright to use them during classes, and she’d agreed although all assignments had to be done using parchment and quill. Neville mouthed “Good luck with that in here,” as Professor Snape turned to face the class and called the roll.

He spoke each name with little inflection, simply looking up at each student as if to fix the face to the name. Until he got to the P’s. After checking Ms Patil from Ravenclaw was present, he looked back down to his ledger and said, “Ahh, Mr Potter, I do hope you take after your mother in this class. It would not bode well for you to follow in James Potter’s footsteps with me. Any tomfoolery will be strictly stamped out, and the consequences will not be…pleasant. And that goes for the rest of you dunderheads as well.”

And then, almost as if he’d never singled Harry out, he finished calling out the names of the rest of the class, before switching into a low, silky tone as he extolled the virtues of Potions and their exclusive place in the world of magic.

Switching again, the Professor threw out some rapid-fire questions.

“Mr Potter, what would you get if you added unicorn hair, mistletoe berries and a bezoar?”

“An antidote for common poisons, sir,” Harry replied.

“Hmph, yes, well where would you find a bezoar, Miss Patil?”

“You would find it in the stomach of a goat, Professor.”

“And Mr Longbottom, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“Th-they’re the same plant, sir. It’s also known as aconite,” Neville added, growing in confidence with being given a Herbology question, and an easy one at that.

“That is correct, Mr Longbottom,” then glared around the room. “And why aren’t you taking notes?”

Those who didn’t have themselves ready scrambled through book bags under the force of additional glares from their instructor. He then gazed around the room and his eyes lit upon Harry’s Muggle notebook and pens.

“Do you feel so superior to the rest of us, that you won’t use a quill and parchment, Mr Potter? Do you think you should be set above your classmates and offered special privileges, boy?”

Harry minutely flinched at the ‘boy’, and hoped the Professor hadn’t noticed. But he had. He was a keen observer and rarely missed non-verbal cues. Which made him remember the potion the night before (had there been one at breakfast also? Not that he could recall, but he’d neglected to check), and the knowledge started him thinking that not all was what it seemed with the Hufflepuff first year.

“Well?” he asked again.

“I only found out about the wizarding world a month ago, sir. I never used a quill before my eleventh birthday, and I’m having difficulty keeping things legible, although I’ve been practising every day. I talked to Professor Sprout this morning about my struggle with using a quill, and she gave me permission to use these in class, as long as assignments and exams are done with a quill on parchment.”

Snape struggled to suppress his anger, for once choosing not to take it out on the child before him. Dumbledore had led him to believe the boy had been raised in the lap of luxury, and fully aware of his place in the wizarding world. He’d talk to Pomona to garner her observations, but he and the Headmaster would be having words!

“I will confirm this with your Head of House of course, but for now, carry on Mr Potter.”

And with that information, Severus Snape knew he’d be throwing his lesson plans for the first years out the window. The Muggleborn and Muggle-raised students were supposed to be given supplementary reading, that he’d selected in the hopes of bridging the gap between magically raised students, some of whom had been tutored in Potions for several years before arriving at Hogwarts. However, right now he was pretty sure the boy had a huge hole in the necessary basic skills and background information, and in a Potions class that just spelled danger.

“We were to have brewed a boil cure potion today, but I find myself curious about the array of skills I will find across this class. So indulge me in assessing your skill level with this subject.”

Harry looked at Neville, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Neville gave a minute shrug, they were both clueless.

“Very well. Who grew up with at least one magical parent?” About two-thirds of the class raised their hand.

“Keep your hand up if you received any tutoring in Potions before coming to Hogwarts.” About a third were left; Neville was another lacking additional instruction.

“Thank you. You may lower your hands. Those raised non-magically please raise your hands. If you received AND read the list of supplemental readings for this class, please lower your hand”

Only Harry and Kay Formby still had their hands in the air.

“You may both put your hands down. Miss Formby, did you have any other magical influence growing up, that might have meant the list was felt to be unnecessary?”

“I had a Squib cousin, which meant I knew about magic earlier than most Muggleborns, I suppose. That’s all I can think of right now. I know I didn’t get an extra book list.”

“Thank you, Miss Formby. Mr Potter, the same question.”

“I didn’t get the list, Professor or I would have happily read those books, just like the rest of my book list. And there were no other magical influences. My relatives pretty much hate magic, sir.”

“Ahh, I see. Then let’s move on to practical skills. Raise your hand if you’ve worked with potions and potion ingredients before.” About a quarter of the class had some practical experience it seemed, beyond academic tutoring alone.

“Raise your hand if you have cooked non-magically before. I’m looking for knife skills, and the ability to follow a recipe, not that you stirred the stew on the stove occasionally.” That was about another quarter of the class, including Harry.

Snape sighed. Perhaps he should have questioned his beginner classes more deeply before now. But this group was nowhere near ready to brew. He summoned a house-elf.

“Tapsy, would you please bring up enough capsicums, courgettes and carrots for this class to practise knife skills on.”

“Tapsy will be doing, Professor Snapey sir,” she responded before popping out and seconds later, popping back in bearing a large basket of vegetables.

“Beginner knife skills it is then, to start us off. Take one of each vegetable apiece, please. And Mr Potter, Miss Formby, I’ll arrange for you to receive the supplementary reading.”

And more patiently than usual Professor Snape proceeded to teach basic potions skills in person for the first time in his career, shamed into it by a boy he’d been all too prepared to hate. As it turned out, he also had the best knife skills of the entire class. Which had the professor wondering, just what had this boy’s childhood had looked like.

~0~0~

The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students left their first Potions class feeling a little befuddled. Professor Snape didn’t seem nearly as mean as he’d been portrayed. But they refused to look a gift Abraxan or horse in the mouth and went on to their next tasks. The Ravenclaws were headed to History of Magic with the Slytherins, while the Hufflepuffs were set to follow their prefect to the library. Given the History classroom was basically on the way, Truman played mother duck to two Houses worth of first years, because he hated to see kids getting lost in their first week or two and always helped out. He made a mental note to talk to Professor Sprout about orienting students to the castle better.

Having delivered the Ravenclaws to Binn’s tender mercies, the remainder of the group arrived at the library. Gabriel introduced them to Madam Pince who looked down her nose at them severely, until Justin charmed her by saying how valuable she must be to the students, in helping them find what they need, and for taking such good care of this impressive library. The normally dour witch blushed quite prettily at the comment and promised they just needed to ask her whenever they needed help. Harry realised Justin had inherited some serious schmoozing skills from his parents.

They got a brief tour of the library, Madam Pince electing to lead the way now that she’d thoroughly adopted the Hufflepuff first years. Justin shot a wink to Harry, which told him the Muggleborn boy had meant for this to happen. Harry silently clapped his hands in thanks; he knew they’d all benefit from having the librarian’s assistance.

Library tour over, Gabriel led them down to the Great Hall for lunch. Given they now knew the way to the History of Magic classroom, they’d only need the prefect to help them find the Charms class afterwards, and Gabriel was available then, promising to get them to Charms safe and sound. The trip down to lunch also gave the prefect the chance to explain the odd disappearing steps on the staircases, and some tricks he’d learned to predict their movement.

Lunch flew by. Hannah told them about her sister Ellie, who was eleven years older than her, and had worked for the Ministry for a few years before moving to Mallorca as a manager for a Wizarding all-inclusive resort. She passed around photos that Ellie had sent, and they were all jealous of her living in such a beautiful place.

Having gotten caught up in talking, they all ended up needing to race to History of Magic to be on time. Not that it really mattered; the Gryffindors they shared the class with apparently got lost, and arrived a minute or so behind them.

The whole group entered the classroom to find, of all things, a ghost. He introduced himself as Professor Binns, then without further pause, launched into a detailed description of what appeared to be a highly wizardkind prejudiced account of a goblin revolt.

Harry, who’d heard a much more factual view from the Guduriak (in point of fact, from Buruzagi Ragnok himself, who’d presented a reasoned review of the faults on both sides), found it highly disturbing. He tried once, to ask how the actions of the Ministry had impacted the start of the armed conflict, and was comprehensively shut down with a, “The goblins just decided to shut the bank down to cause dissension within the wizarding population, for no real cause.”

That’s when he knew this class would be a complete waste of time and he’d have to talk to Ragnok and Firelock about what could be done. He then spent the rest of the class re-reading the first couple of chapters of the Charms textbook.

A curious thing happened as they left the class though. The two Houses had sat completely separately during class. But Harry felt his arm grabbed as he was turning to follow Gabriel to Charms.

“Hey, I’m Ron Weasley.” The pushy redhead stuck out a hand to shake. Almost by rote, and out of politeness, Harry shook the proffered hand.

“Anyway, everyone in Gryffindor thinks you were mis-Sorted into the ‘Puffs, you know both your parents being Lions and all. So we decided anytime you wanted to come hang out with your proper House, just say the word, and we’ll give you the password. I’m sure we’ll be best mates in no time.”

Harry was speechless at first, at the utter cheek of Weasley’s approach. But he regained his wits pretty quickly and had time to respond before Gabriel led his group off.

“I don’t know where you all got that idea from, Weasley. But let me tell you, I’m thrilled to be in Hufflepuff. I’m already making loads of new friends and I’ve no desire to spend a moment in Gryffindor if they’re all as rude and pushy as you. Now I have to go before I’m late to Charms, but let’s not do this again, okay?”

At that, Harry turned his back on the wanna-be friend and followed the rest of his year mates towards the stairs and his next class. Behind him, he left a fuming Gryffindor, mortally offended at his overtures being turned down. There was a good chance this was going to get ugly.

~0~0~

Both the Charms Professor and the Charms class itself brought great joy to Harry and his fellow students. Professor Flitwick was one-half Guduriak, which the other students didn’t know, but Harry had been informed of. He was enthusiastic about his subject and, one time, fell off his stack of books when he became too excited during his exposition of all that you could do with Charms. To the class’s amusement (they were back with the Ravenclaws), it seemed to be a frequent occurrence, as Flitwick explained the cushioning and bouncing charms he had around his desk, for just such occurrences.

After spending the first half of the session on magical theory as it related to Charms (most of which was a review for Harry from Magic School), they moved on to a practical session, working on the Lumos spell.

Harry had already mastered this, as many of his classmates knew from their dark walk to get into the castle the day before, but Professor Flitwick hadn’t seen it. When Harry produced light on the tip of his wand on the first try, the Charms professor was thrilled and enlisted him to help the other students to perform the spell.

Neville could not get the spell to work, however, and became extremely frustrated. Harry, knowing his friend was using his dad’s wand, called Professor Flitwick over and explained the situation. When, as an experiment, Neville successfully cast Lumos with more than half of his fellow students’ wands, not to mention Flitwick’s as well, Harry could see the confidence rising in his friend.

Professor Flitwick sent the class out at the end of the period, most of them happy with their achievements, but he asked both Harry and Neville to stay back.

He gestured for Harry to bend down so he could speak softly in the boy’s ear. “Should I use the term goblin or Guduriak in front of Mr Longbottom? I see you’ve already become close. ”

“Goblin for now,” Harry replied. “But it will be Guduriak very soon, I think. I believe Neville needs Ringstar’s help.”

Flitwick nodded then spoke to Neville, “Mr Longbottom, I’ll be frank. You need a new wand. While your father was a powerful wizard and rather a dab hand at Charms, his wand doesn’t suit you. You have bountiful earth energy in you; a hickory wand will fight that. I will be talking to Professor Sprout about approaching your grandmother to get you to Ollivanders for your own wand. Are you alright with that? I know your grandmother can be a bit formidable.”

Neville smiled a little, despite his fear and nervousness about upsetting his gran. Gathering up his courage, he replied, “I would appreciate that, sir. I think a new wand would help and I would be devastated if something happened to Dad’s wand, if a spell backfired or something.”

Professor Flitwick gave him an encouraging smile. His student had just handed him the perfect hook to drag Augusta Longbottom from sentiment to good sense.

“Mr Potter, your turn then. Just how far ahead are you in my class?” Flitwick asked with an engaging smile.

“Umm, I can perform all the spells up to chapter eleven in the textbook, and some beyond that, but it gets a bit more iffy.” Harry ducked his head shyly at the achievement.

“Oh well done then Mr Potter. I gather my cousins have been helpful then. Swifthorn was very pleased with how much you had become part of the family.”

Harry had picked up on the cues. “She’s quite the amazing person. Done me loads of good.”

Flitwick took charge of the conversation again, “So given you know most everything until well after the Christmas break, would you mind assisting me with the practical aspects of the class, and helping your fellow students along? In exchange, I’d be happy to book an hour with you each week, to go over other charms that are useful but don’t tend to find their way into the curriculum. Would that be acceptable? And if you manage to continue to work ahead, we can maintain that arrangement long-term, unless there’s a spell you truly need to work on in class.”

“That would be wonderful. I’m sure that I will be receiving additional instruction over winter break. So thanks, Professor.” Harry paused a moment, then continued, “If we get Neville a properly fitting wand, could he come too? If there are two of us, it’ll make it easier to teach the rest of the first year ‘Puffs when we’re practising our spells together. If it’s okay that we do that sir.”

“It sounds like a wonderful plan. And as a teacher, I’m hardly going to be upset that more students want to become skilled at Charms. You might consider joining the Charms Club if you have an interest in the subject. We cover many more useful day-to-day charms there, along with the occasional challenging or esoteric spell, just for fun.”

Harry looked at Neville as if to ask if he was willing.

“That would be brilliant, sir. It’s a wonderful opportunity. Thanks for giving us the chance.” Neville sealed the deal. The first year Hufflepuffs of 1991 were setting themselves to outstrip all their predecessors in Charms. Harry and Neville just knew their Housemates would be totally up for the challenge.

~0~0~

Thus ended the classes for their first day. They had reading assigned from Charms and an eighteen-inch essay on how different knife cuts and preparation methods enhanced the quality of the end product for Potions. With the ninety-minute gap between the last class and the start of dinner, the ‘Puffs headed to the library and got a start on their Potions essays.

Between Neville, Jillian and Megan, they’d found three books that covered the required material fairly comprehensively, and they were all working steadily away at their essays, around two tables that Madam Pince had allowed them to pull together. Harry was doing his rough draft on notepaper, planning to recopy it later. Magically raised Ernie and Susan had asked to try his pens and paper, just to see the difference, and had already decided they wanted Muggle stationery supplies.

Harry and Justin had already had a quiet word together on their walk up to the library, about putting together a shared stationery supply for their friends, so they’d have plenty to use over the year. He knew Soraya wouldn’t mind the excuse for a Muggle shopping trip at all.

Harry had just finished his first rough draft and was checking his watch when he became aware of a looming presence. The bushy-haired girl who’d gone into Gryffindor was standing by the Hufflepuff table, looking all aggrieved.

“You know you have to use parchment and quills here at Hogwarts. There were no Muggle supplies included on the equipment list. And Professor McGonagall didn’t mention them when she took my parents and me shopping, so they mustn’t be allowed,” she asserted officiously.

“Err Granger isn’t it? I don’t know that it’s any of your business, but I do have my own Head of House’s permission to use whatever I need to, as long as assignments and exams are turned in, using parchment and quills. Now if there’s nothing else, we’d like to get to dinner.” Harry gestured to his Housemates who were packing up their things, having mostly completed the assignment as well.

“There’s one more thing,” Granger continued, “Ronald Weasley says you were horribly rude to him after History of Magic class today. He was just trying to be friendly and invite you to visit our common room, and he said you told him to “sod off”. As the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’, that’s a terrible way to treat a new friend.” The quotation marks were very clearly audible in her declaration. As was her sense of being the only possible source of moral rectitude.

Harry let out a deep sigh. “Again Granger, I’m not sure where this is any of your business. But for the record, I said no such thing, and Neville and Susan can attest to that. After Weasley, was it? After Weasley strongly implied I was Sorted wrong because I hadn’t followed my parents into Gryffindor, and essentially suggested I remain a Hufflepuff in name only, he informed me it was inevitable we would be ‘Best Mates’, despite the fact I don’t know him or want to know him. And please forgive me for being blunt, I’d like to make sure you know as well, I’m totally thrilled with being a Badger and I don’t feel I should have to justify that to anyone. So, we’re clear, right? Good.” And turning to his friends, back blatantly aimed at the interfering Gryffindor, he asked. “Do we have time to drop off our stuff in the dorms before the dinner bell?”

“Yeah, if we hurry,” Graham replied. And with that, the group took off at a fast pace, leaving a fuming, foot-stomping Lion in their wake.

~0~0~

The Hufflepuff firsties headed back to the common room after dinner. They’d made a pact to keep on top of homework as it was given out and to help each other out with difficult assignments, so they’d then create true free time to have fun and get to know the rest of their House better. Harry was sitting with Susan, Neville and Gwen (as Gwendolyne had asked them to call her), copying his essay onto parchment at one of the study tables in the common room. Noticing Harry was struggling a little, one of the third years came up, and cast a spell that transfigured a sheet of parchment into an angled writing surface under his essay.

“Hi there. I saw you having problems with the quill and I was taught this as a kid. I still use it today. Seeing as I’m a lefty, writing on a flat surface is tough, though the idea works for struggling righties too. Oh, the name’s Cedric Diggory by the way.”

Harry smiled at the older boy and wrote a few words. “Oh, that’s so much easier. Do you think you can teach me that spell? Otherwise, I’m going to have to find where I can owl-order something like this.”

“I tell you what, Gabriel is a real dab hand at Transfiguration, so I’ll see if he can make a permanent portable desk for you. If not, I’d bet Flitwick or McGonagall could do it,” Cedric offered helpfully.

“Thanks so much for your help,” Harry offered his hand to the older boy

“You’re very welcome. We ‘Puffs look after each other,” Cedric replied. “I’ll see you around.” And with that, everyone turned back to finishing off their homework.

~0~0~

And so the tone was set for ‘Harry and Co’ and their adventures in the first year. The next day introduced them to Herbology with their Head of House. Professor Sprout was an enthusiastic teacher, though not quite as excitable as Professor Flitwick. They had classes with her three times a week, two in the greenhouses and a theory class in her ground-floor classroom, not far from the Great Hall. Neville and Jillian were the stars of their class, outshining any of the Gryffindors, much to Granger’s distress. And Harry got along pretty well in the class too, thanks to all his years as Head Gardener at the Dursleys. He’d jokingly adopted that title when asked why he was so comfortable with the subject.

Fortunately, both Granger and Weasley had seemed to take the hint that they weren’t being welcomed arms wide open into Harry’s life, at least for now. They mostly huddled with their fellow Gryffindors in class and ignored all of the Hufflepuffs, including Harry.

Transfiguration class, with Professor McGonagall, was a different kettle of fish. The Head of Gryffindor was a much more restrained and distant instructor, and rather strict, from their first class, about how her students would behave. She did unbend enough after their second class, shared again with the Slytherins, to tell Harry his father had been quite skilled in her subject. Harry had hinted that he’d like to know more about his parents, but she’d withdrawn again after that one comment.

Astronomy was mostly a terrible interruption to a good night’s sleep for Harry and his friends, and the Ravenclaws they were paired with seemed to agree. They wondered why the Great Hall could be enchanted to show the outside weather, but a planetarium couldn’t be built at the school and enchanted similarly to allow them to see the night sky during regular class times. Particularly because none of them could see where there was any application to the subject in anything else they learned. Perhaps it had a role to play in future electives they’d choose, but did it truly require two years of study first, or five years in reality, because Gabriel had told them it was a mandatory OWL class?

But the class that equated to a couple of hours of pure joy a week for Harry was the Flying class. By no means an expert, with only a month on a broom under his belt, Harry was a born flyer and had an infectious way that made his friends want to love it too.

This was their other shared class with the Slytherins. The blonde boy he’d run into in Madam Malkins had introduced himself properly as they waited for the first class, apologising because his mother had dragged him away (not that he used such an uncouth term as dragged) before they could meet at the store.

Harry responded politely to the overture but didn’t invite a closer acquaintance, which the other boy rather uncharacteristically accepted. As a Hufflepuff, the Boy-Who-Lived wasn’t someone to grab Malfoy’s attention, and Harry had such a good social circle he didn’t feel he needed to go out of his way to befriend someone who didn’t feel the same way in return. So while Malfoy tended to think he knew all he needed to know about flying, that was more Madam Hooch’s problem than any of the other students in the class.

For all that Harry might have been born on a broom, Neville, Jillian and Kay were nervous flyers. After the third class, where they still only very nervously lifted off and manoeuvred a few feet into the air, Harry took a chance and caught Madam Hooch one day, as she was leaving the Great Hall after dinner.

“Madam Hooch, do you have a minute?”

The yellow-eyed teacher with the spiky grey hair saw it was one of her star students, and replied, “I do, Mr Potter. What can I help you with?”

And from there, Harry launched into his spiel. “I know there are several of my friends who are really struggling with Flying classes. I had a thought, based on our Charms class. I got extra instruction in Charms over the summer before coming to Hogwarts and I’m several months ahead of the class. Professor Flitwick has asked Neville (who’s also had tutoring) and me to act as sort of classroom assistants for the practical sessions. By my reckoning, there’s about a fifty-fifty split in our class, between halfway experienced flyers and complete beginners and very nervous flyers. What if we had a buddy system, where we partnered the two groups into pairs and they could work on skills together? We did this with football in my Muggle primary school during PE and it worked really well.”

Madam Hooch pondered the idea for several long moments. “I like it, Mr Potter. The idea has real merit. Do you think your classmates would agree to this?”

“The Hufflepuffs are all on board, Madam Hooch. They get so tired of me going on about how much I love to fly. I think they all want to be able to fly with me, just to shut me up.” Harry giggled, while his instructor suppressed a smirk.

“I will talk to Professor Snape about getting his Slytherins on board. It will be interesting to compare your class against the Ravenclaw – Gryffindor class at the end of the term. I think, to make your proposal a permanent thing, I’ll have to take the comparison to the Headmaster over the Christmas break. But don’t worry, I feel that once we institute the buddy system in the other class, they’ll catch up fairly quickly if your proposal works as well as I suspect it will.”

~0~0~

There was one last class that they’d had twice in the first week; one that, frankly, Harry would have just as soon forgotten.

The odd professor that Hagrid had barely introduced in the Leaky Cauldron that first day, was the epitome of Churchill’s ” riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.”

Professor Quirrell was an excessively nervous man who could barely relay the bare necessities in his lectures, given the severity of his stutter. His timidity had them mostly studying defence theory, and it took nearly a month for the professor to introduce any practical element to the class. To add insult to injury, that practical component consisted of two spells, a Tickling Jinx and a Jelly-Leg Jinx. Harry took it upon himself to find an empty classroom on the second floor with his Hufflepuff year mates and added Expelliarmus, Repulso, and Stupefy, all spells Soraya had taught him in Magic School, to their spell inventory. She’d also promised, during a mirror-box call one evening, to start working on Shield charms with Harry over the Christmas break.

The Gryffindors had caught word that their DADA classmates were learning other spells with Harry, and there had been a mixed response from the Lions. Some, like Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, had approached Harry quietly and asked to join the study group. Harry and the other Hufflepuffs had readily welcomed the duo, along with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil several weeks later. Susan took the girls aside after the second session and asked them to tone down the giggles, and the study group motored along just fine after that.

The other two Gryffindor boys apart from Weasley, Zacharias Smith and Wayne Hopkins, were labelled as total prats by Seamus and Dean, and thus considered ineligible for joining the study group. Lily Moon, the remaining Gryffindor first-year girl, apart from Granger, was so painfully shy that they didn’t know why she’d even come to Hogwarts, versus being home-schooled, let alone how the Hat decided Gryffindor should be her home away from home. Hannah had approached Lily, very quietly and kindly, to see if she was interested in the study group, and the young girl simply couldn’t overcome her timorousness to engage in another group outside of her scheduled classes.

But miracle of miracles, the Gryffindor participants managed to keep their involvement from Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Truthfully, their Housemates were just a bit fed up with the duo. Not only were they often at each other’s throats, they could see Harry’s point that including them in their DADA practice sessions would see Granger likely trying to take over and Weasley attempting to insinuate himself into Harry’s life as his self-appointed best friend. It seemed Harry was a fairly constant target of discussion in Ronald’s world, and the current consensus of his fellow Gryffindors was that he was a bit ‘mental’ about the Boy-Who-Lived.

Meanwhile, Harry approached Draco Malfoy and several other Slytherins, to sound out their interest in being part of the study group. They’d refused politely, commenting that Professor Snape had mandatory cross-year study groups in their House, ensuring there was mentoring from older students for those struggling with any subjects. Despite an interest in participating, they simply felt they didn’t have the time. As such, there were no hard feelings with the refusal, though they were impressed that Professor Snape was so hands-on with his House.

Similarly, Ravenclaw had established mentoring sessions, so the only student to join was Padma Patil, who was thrilled to spend more time with her Gryffindor sister.

~0~0~

The third Saturday in September found Harry and Co sitting in the stands at the pitch, watching the Quidditch trials. As first years they weren’t eligible to try out, but flying-mad Harry, along with Quidditch-mad Megan and Graham, dragged their friends out into the sunshine and insisted on a break from studying.

As Professor Sprout had mentioned the first night, the team needed a Beater and a Chaser. And also to make sure they had a full Reserve team. But being the egalitarian sorts that Hufflepuffs were, there was an open try-out for all positions, the goal being to field the most skilled and cohesive team.

Around thirty students were wanting to try out, five for Keeper, seven for Beater, three for Seeker and the remainder for Chaser. Cedric Diggory, the established Seeker from last year (he’d made quite a splash taking the position as a second year), easily retained his position, though Maggie Thompkins from fourth year sewed up the reserve slot quite neatly. The first years all cheered for Cedric’s success; the kind and helpful boy had taken their group under his wing and they all considered him a fast friend.

The rest of the positions were filled easily and Professor Sprout had strong hopes for her team that year. Hufflepuff wasn’t usually known as a major contender for the Quidditch Cup, but they’d make a good showing this time. The other outcome of having such a good turnout for the trials was that there were easily enough players to field four teams in the House, and Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch had agreed to schedule some pick-up games for those who were interested, at least once a month.

The even better news was that first years who passed their first term flight exams would be permitted to play in the pick-up games for the lower years, which were modified to improve player safety. There were resounding cheers from the younger ‘Puffs at this news, and an over-excited second year impressed everyone when she backflipped the length of the pitch in celebration. Cedric, knowing Harry had the skills to become a good Seeker, offered to do some coaching sessions if they could get Madam Hooch’s approval. Harry’s smile lasted all the way through dinner and right up to bedtime at the offer.

The first years continued to show up for practices while the weather remained pleasant, bringing reading for assignments, or notes to review for tests, while pausing to cheer their Housemates on for any particularly good demonstrations of skill. Professor Sprout, having caught wind of the strong House spirit of her newest students, quietly awarded each one five points for supporting their team and House. This caused much bemusement though, when no one could explain the sudden influx of fifty-five points when they assembled for dinner that night.

Chapter 8

And so September rolled into October, and the first years across all four Houses found themselves feeling more at home. There was one exception; Lily Moon, the incredibly shy Gryffindor first year, had been ending up in the infirmary for panic attacks and Calming Draughts more often as the weeks went on. She also had the worst case of homesickness that Madam Pomfrey or Professor McGonagall had ever seen.

Midway through the second week in October, after three days of unrelenting panic attacks, her parents had a meeting with the staff and elected to have her return home and resume her one-on-one tutoring. They had hoped that attending Hogwarts would bring their daughter out of her shell; instead they left with the knowledge she’d likely need professional help from the Mind Healers, and they were determined she’d get it.

The students in the Hufflepuff-driven study group were sad to see her go. They’d hoped to be able to draw her out of her shell a bit more. But Parvati and Lavender confided it would have always been a struggle for Lily. It seemed the dominant personality that was Hermione Granger tended to override their efforts to help Lily settle in, as she had tried to set all sorts of rules about how and when they should all study. The two more outgoing girls had been able to escape to the study group, but Lily had tended to end up with unrelenting Granger exposure, which probably hadn’t helped her anxiety any.

Classes continued regardless of any other dramas the students might encounter. History of Magic continued to be a waste of time, and Soraya had contacted Madam Marchbanks at the Wizarding Examinations Authority at the Ministry for suggestions on study guides and additional materials, to help the first years. As the body that oversaw the OWL and NEWT exams, they also assisted with providing resources to home-schooled students.

It turns out there was a plethora of materials available for self-study. Soraya, as a daughter of two Eagles and a Gringotts employee, contacted her most favourite teacher at the school, the part-Guduriak Head of Ravenclaw House and discussed the issues. Flitwick, along with the other Heads, was quite frustrated that Binns was still teaching, and not only teaching poorly but with great bias. He decided to do an end-run around Dumbledore, knowing no action would be taken if he did, and called for a meeting with Snape, McGonagall and Sprout.

Flitwick had asked Soraya for a copy of all the materials the WEA had for History of Magic, authorising her to access his vault to cover any costs. She’d sent the lot through via Harry’s mirror-box, and the four Heads spent several hours perusing the materials.

“This is much superior to any of the books available in the library. I’d say we’d easily double the number of students passing OWLs and NEWTs in the subject if they had access to this for self-study,” Professor Sprout commented. Soraya had obtained the material for all seven years, per Flitwick’s request.

“Indeed. It might also be worth investigating the study guides for our own classes as well. With the Board and the Headmaster limiting us to one book per subject for the book list, our students have limited resources. Having access, at least through OWL level, might be exceedingly useful,” was Professor Snape’s observation.

Harry’s wake-up call to the Potions Master was having far-reaching consequences for his teaching. While still showing a strong sarcastic streak, he’d toned down his caustic and derisory comments considerably and was more inclined to teach underlying theory and basic potions skills to the students. The number of cauldron explosions had been cut by over two-thirds as a result.

Minerva McGonagall was in a quandary as she sorted through the study guides and additional resources in front of her. She was well aware that Binns was providing substandard education in his subject; she’d fervently argued as much with the Headmaster multiple times. But as Deputy Headmistress, she felt obligated to support his and the Board of Governors’ policies. Then she shook herself mentally. When had she accepted that political convenience became something to overrule quality teaching?

“I think we need to obtain copies of all seven years for each House common room, along with several extra copies for the Library. History to start with, but perhaps over Christmas break, we could find time to visit the WEA and look over the rest of the classes? I don’t know where we’ll find the funding for this, but surely there’s a way.”

Professor Flitwick piped up at that moment. “I do have a solution for us, but it must be kept a secret to the four of us, because of how it came about. We know the Headmaster won’t be happy about us taking action, and having Albus fully informed of what I’m about to discuss with you puts one of our students at risk.”

“Surely not, Filius. Albus would never harm a student…” McGonagall began to protest.

“I wouldn’t put it past him, Minerva. Recall the full moon episode with the Marauders in my era, would you?” Snape raised a questioning eyebrow at the Head of Gryffindor and she readily subsided with a deflated “Oh.”

“Do you require us to swear an Oath, Filius? I would be willing to do so,” Professor Sprout suspected she already knew the student and some of the story, and was willing to protect his secrets.

“No, I will be content with accepting your word that you won’t share what I’m about to tell you,” the Charms Master replied, watching as his fellow Heads all nodded their agreement.

“Very well then, we have had an offer from Chieftain Ragnok of Gringotts to provide study materials for all subjects, to be placed in all Houses and the library. He only asks that it be announced as an anonymous donation. As for the background to this request, when Mr Potter was brought into Gringotts by Hagrid on his eleventh birthday, he’d only just learned he was a wizard that day. He’d been raised by Lily’s sister and her family, who were violently (emphasis on the violent) anti-magic.”

Minerva practically exploded at that. “I told him they were the worst sort of Muggles!” Severus just groaned internally at the thought of Petunia Evans raising any magical child.

“It appears you were right, Minerva. Nevertheless, Gringotts had been trying to get hold of young Harry for several years, over his accounts, his parents’ wills and other issues. Firelock, Ragnok’s deputy if you will, managed to meet up with Harry, after he separated himself from Hagrid, and provided him with some basic information. He also arranged for him to have a Portkey to get back to the bank later. Long story short, Harry is no longer under the Dursley’s care and is currently a ward of a Muggleborn employee of Gringotts. You may all remember Soraya Whittaker. She was several years behind you, Severus, one of Minerva’s lions.”

There were murmurs of recognition.

Flitwick continued. “Mr Potter spent the month of August healing up from the Dursley’s ‘care’, and finally having some fun for the first time in his life, exploring the magical and Muggle worlds. But most importantly, Ragnok and Firelock put him through what they called Magic School, focusing on the history, customs, and skills needed to live in the wizarding world, and basic spells for most of our classes. If you’ve thought he’s doing well because he was raised to be the Boy-Who-Lived, no. It was the goblins who ensured he had half a chance of making his way in this world. Mr Potter had never actually seen the Headmaster before the Sorting ceremony.”

Severus and Minerva gaped at the knowledge, while Pomona was pleased to see she hadn’t been far off track with the bits she’d gleaned off her interactions with Harry over the last month or so.

“Now you know why we must keep this information secret. Perhaps there might be a rumour put about that one of the students, on hearing about poor Ms Moon returning to studying from home, asked their parents to look into what additional materials were available. It’s very nearly the truth, as Harry did ask his guardian.” Flitwick looked expectantly at his colleagues.

“I’d be willing to inform Albus of the anonymous donation…after all the materials have already been distributed and the students informed of the wonderful new addition to their education,” Minerva volunteered. Severus just raised his glass in acknowledgement of her almost Slytherin-like cunning.

“Perhaps we can throw Albus off a little more if you and I have a discussion within his earshot over dinner, Filius. I can mention that one of my first-year Snakes heard the rumour during one of the Slytherin-Gryffindor classes. Draw his suspicion completely away from Hufflepuff.” Severus gave his signature smirk at joining the game.

“And I’ll happily play the utterly clueless Head of the duffers, who aren’t the sort to be big enough go-getters to arrange for something like this.” Pomona was sporting something of an evil smile herself.

Filius clapped his hands, rather gleeful that they’d been able to form such a masterful plan so easily.

“Very well. Ragnok has arranged for a trunkful of materials for each House and two more for the library. Minerva, is your Floo still open for travel and sending through large items?”

“Yes, it is. Albus seems to think his Floo is the only accessible one, as he holds the wards. He forgets that privilege is also granted to the Deputy Head, in case of an emergency or the Headmaster being unavailable. Oh, and Albus has an ICW meeting tomorrow and will be leaving straight after breakfast. He’ll be gone until Saturday. That gives us four days to get the students on board and excited about the new study guides.” Minerva was starting to realise that participating in a conspiracy could be rather enjoyable.

“Very well. I believe you and I are free tomorrow, right after breakfast, Minerva,” stated Flitwick. “If we can have the trunks sent through at 9 am, we can set the House-elves to distribute the material to their destinations. Perhaps they should set up a large bookcase in each common room, to keep these items separate. I can charm them to be permanently keyed to the Houses, so the guides won’t go missing.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Filius. And then I will make the announcement at lunchtime, and explain they are for use by all. Or a certain Gryffindor first year will never let anyone else get near them,” Minerva commented wryly, receiving nods of understanding. Ms Granger was becoming rather legendary in her short tenure at Hogwarts.

“Well, it sounds like we have a plan. Oh, and Minerva, you might be unaware of this. In addition to having Hagrid as his introduction to the wizarding world, Mr Potter also never received the reading list that the Muggleborn and Muggle-raised students usually get. It makes me wonder if there is some vested interest in having the boy know next to nothing when he arrived here. He wasn’t even told how to access the platform at Kings Cross,” Filius announced.

That pronouncement raised some eyebrows, leaving Filius’ colleagues quietly vowing to keep an eye out for the lad. Even Severus felt that way, as he recalled his promise to protect Lily’s son. After all, the boy had shown himself to be very different from James Potter, hadn’t he?

~0~0~

Professor McGonagall’s announcement of the newly arrived study guides and educational materials was greeted enthusiastically at lunch the next day. The Ravenclaws and a certain first-year Gryffindor groaned inwardly about not being able to wholesale copy the materials or borrow them for individual use for extended periods, but largely, the students felt they could work out an equitable way of sharing the new endowment.

Madam Pince was in seventh heaven. She’d been pushing for access to the WEA materials for years, and to have four copies of everything for each subject? Her only challenge was to figure out where to best centrally locate it all in the library, so she could also maintain oversight. It was a decision she didn’t mind having to make.

There was, of course, great speculation as to who the anonymous donor was, but Harry and Co managed to keep both their lips zipped and their faces straight. Especially when the gossip as to the source of the donation became more and more fantastic. The craziest one they heard was that young Muggle Prince William had shown signs of accidental magic and would be coming to Hogwarts in two years, and so the Queen had ordered the donation be made.

By the time Professor Dumbledore arrived back over the weekend the rumour mill was thoroughly and wildly corrupted. He was unhappy that he hadn’t been able to control the arrival of the donation, nor make it look as though he’d been the one to solicit it. But Harry’s secret remained safe and a certain Headmaster fumed about things happening behind his back, so those in the know sported mostly hidden smiles of satisfaction.

~0~0~

Harry was a little apprehensive, approaching his first Halloween in the wizarding world. While All Hallows Eve had long-standing traditions in non-magical Britain, Harry had never known, until this summer, that it was the night he’d been orphaned and his parents killed. He’d spent his childhood hearing about his aunt and uncle taking Dudley to community events on October 31st, going bobbing for apples, carving faces into vegetables and telling ghost stories. It had only been in the last year or two that their Little Whinging neighbourhood had begun to join the growing interest in trick-or-treating.

Truthfully, Harry would have liked to skip the Feast entirely and spend it on a mirror-box call with Soraya and his Guduriak friends. It didn’t hurt that Ragnok’s team of magical artisans had worked out how to link the mirror-boxes together so they could talk as a group, only the week before. But Professor Sprout had taken the request to the Headmaster and Dumbledore had insisted everyone had to attend school feasts. Sprout had offered her sincere apologies for forcing Harry to participate, earning her even greater respect than he’d already been developing for his Head of House.

The DADA study group had met in the ninety minutes before dinner and there’d been little work done when the Gryffindors had related the blow-up in their Charms class that day. It seemed that Granger and Weasley had been sitting together, and they’d been set to work on the levitation charm, Wingardium Leviosa. It had turned ugly when Granger took it upon herself to tutor Weasley without his permission or so much as a by-your-leave, and he’d responded angrily, asserting she had no friends because she was such a bossy know-it-all. It seemed that Ms Granger had not taken the criticism well and had disappeared for the rest of the day, missing both lunch and her afternoon classes.

The boys, being eleven and twelve-year-old males, hadn’t thought too much of the blow-up. But Hannah, Susan and Gwen, along with Lavender and Parvati, were worried about the other Gryffindor girl. It wasn’t that they liked her, because really, they didn’t. But they didn’t want anyone to worry themselves sick over a silly argument. So the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls shared significant glances when Granger was still absent at the Feast, and her Head of House had neither noticed nor taken any action.

All hell broke loose when Professor Quirrell burst into the Great Hall, dramatically announced there was a troll in the dungeons, and collapsed in an untidy heap before the Head Table.

The Headmaster stood immediately, setting off fireworks to get everyone’s attention, then cast a Sonorous and called for the prefects to escort their Housemates to the common rooms. But Gabriel Truman of Hufflepuff, who was made of more sensible stuff, put two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. He then called out “Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, stay where you are. We’re not going to lead our Houses into the last known area where the Troll was.”

Professors Sprout and Snape, diverted by his words from whatever plan the Headmaster was coming up with on the fly (his last orders being, on reflection, totally ridiculous), joined their Houses and advised the students to stay together. They shepherded both the Houses towards the corner of the Great Hall furthest from the doors and instructed the prefects to keep the most inexperienced students to the rear for additional safety.

Within a couple of minutes, before Ravenclaw and Gryffindor could be properly organised to leave the room for their Towers, McGonagall and Flitwick had also been persuaded that staying in such a defensible space as the Great Hall was the best option. Shortly at that, all four Houses were huddled along the wall furthest from the main doors, behind the long Gryffindor table which had been tipped on its side.

Almost simultaneously, Susan and Parvati recalled that Granger was missing, that she’d never joined them at the Feast. By this point, Professors Flitwick, Snape, Hooch, Sinistra and McGonagall had joined Dumbledore on the hunt for the troll. But Professor Sprout was very approachable as always and, on hearing that Granger had been holed up most of the day in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom on the second floor, took immediate action. The Herbology professor thrilled many of the students when she cast a Patronus spell, then used her otter to redirect the search party to look for Ms Granger.

As it turned out, they found both the missing student and the troll in the same place, rescuing the first-year Gryffindor in the nick of time. Granger was quite incensed to be on the receiving end of a lecture, for both not attending the Feast as mandated, but for also not seeking out her Head of House for conflict resolution. But when all was said and done, the situation was resolved relatively quickly, the Feast was resumed as everyone was still in the Great Hall, and the house-elves ensured the troll was removed.

But neither Harry nor Susan was happy with how the whole night was resolved. Susan wrote a long letter to her aunt before bedtime, then borrowed Hedwig with Harry’s permission, to get the letter sent off. Given Harry had a more immediate form of communication with those he’d come to consider family, his owl had become a favourite of the study group and found herself quite busy with letter delivery and owl orders.

Meanwhile, Harry spoke with Soraya, Firelock, Ragnok and Ringstar via mirror-box later that evening. The family that had built itself up around him in such a short space of time was very disturbed by the night’s events.

“Don’t let yourself get pulled into spending any time alone with Quirrell,” Ragnok ordered. “I don’t trust him, don’t trust him at all. Something is not right there.”

“He’s horribly creepy, Ragnok, so I’m perfectly happy to stay a long way away from him.” Harry wanted to reassure his friend quite desperately. It was such an amazing and novel experience to have people in authority care about him.

An idea caught in Harry’s mind.

“Would it be possible for my friends and their families to get their own mirror-boxes? Owls are wonderful for relaying letters, but there’s not really anything that beats being able to see your faces and talk to you each day. And this way, we could stay in contact over the holidays. Even if we don’t get the whole group connected, I think we must get Susan that direct link to her Aunt. There’s too much going on here, not to be able to get hold of Madam Bones and the Aurors when or if we need to.”

“I agree, Harry,” Ragnok responded. “I’ll request a meeting with Madam Bones here in Gringotts. She’ll be given a mirror-box that connects to you, Neville and Susan, and will also link to myself, Firelock and Soraya. Ah, now that I think of it, isn’t Madam Longbottom on the Hogwarts Board of Governors? We should connect Neville Longbottom into the network as well, I believe.”

Harry relaxed at last, relief written across his face. “Part of me worries if it’s worth it sometimes, being here at Hogwarts. But then I figured that I wouldn’t have my friends if I’d never come. And Madam Hooch and I have our fun little project going as well. The buddy idea is going well. Even Neville can get above the fifty feet high mark now, and he’s nearly started to relax his death grip on his broom.” Harry was now shifting into the conversational tone that was more characteristic of their mirror-box talks.

“Anyway, I think Madam Hooch is going to set up some sort of timed run or obstacle course for the end of the year. That way she will have objective results to make the push for all flying classes to use the buddy system, and I think she’s going to try to argue for continuing it, at least as an elective, in second and maybe third year. Did you know there’s a competitive flying circuit? The only thing people here seem to care about is Quidditch when it comes to flying. But there are speed and agility races, and also long-distance endurance events that combine with aspects of orienteering. So the competitors have to be able to handle extended flights, and they have to find objects or clues along the way to reach the next checkpoint. They both sound rather fun to me. But you know me, any excuse to go flying.”

Harry ended with the signature grin he was only now letting loose easily. It was hard to believe that it had only been four months since Harry had landed in, and completely upturned their lives. Though no one was upset by that turn of events in the slightest. They’d all become incredibly attached to the messy-haired boy, who’d overcome so much in his short life span.

~0~0~

Despite the excitement that had been Halloween, life at Hogwarts settled back into familiar routines very quickly. Harry and Neville loved assisting Professor Flitwick in Charms class, and in return, during their private sessions, had learned the very useful Point-Me and Accio spells, along with more mundane but also handy charms such as ones for removing stains from clothing and a spell to polish shoes.

They, along with most of their DADA study group, also joined Flitwick’s Charms Club, where they were learning basic cooking and cleaning charms. Harry was thrilled that Soraya was now his guardian because it would have been so very frustrating to be returned to the Dursleys and be forced to do all those chores without magic.

The group also enjoyed the Herbology Club, though they were without Lavender and Parvati for those meetings; the duo always bemoaned that digging in the dirt ruined their fingernails.

As for the rest of the classes, Professor McGonagall was starting to unbend a little as she got to know them. She’d never be the jovial sort of teacher, but she’d loosened her iron control on her emotions slightly and the students basked in her praise, thrilled by a simple “Well done.”

Surprisingly Professor Snape had softened a touch more as well. Perhaps it was the fact that the class had settled into a disciplined work ethic with essentially no desire to prank or sabotage another student, making the whole experience immeasurably safer and more pleasant. But with a much better theoretical background, not to mention an instructor who put in the effort when students needed help, the entire school managed to get through the first week of November without a single cauldron explosion, which was thought to be a record.

DADA and History remained interminable classes, though at least in History, Binns didn’t seem to care that his students weren’t paying the slightest hint of attention. The self-study coursework was more than making up for a substandard education in the latter class and was filling massive gaps in the former.

Harry and Co were excited for the arrival of the first Quidditch game, the second Saturday in November. Even though not a Hufflepuff game, the excitement of a high-level competition between Slytherin and Gryffindor thrilled the fans of the game, both new and old. The Lions squeaked out a come-from-behind victory, winning by only ten points when the Snitch nearly flew down the throat of their Seeker. The defensive hand he’d thrown up to protect his face captured the Snitch almost unthinkingly.

On the last weekend of November, it was the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs’ turn to face off. The weather had turned rather cold, and Harry was glad for Madam Malkins’ advice to get a range of clothing for all seasons. He was also extremely grateful for the long-lasting warming and water-repellent charms on his winter cloak. Soraya had sent a new beanie and scarf in his House colours, and Harry preened a little at being decked out in the signature yellow and black of the Badgers.

Despite the cold, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue, which was perfect for Quidditch. The game turned into a bit of a rout, however. The Eagles had lost three key players to graduation the year before, including their Chaser captain, who’d been a more than decent strategist. While still being a reasonably talented team, they were inexperienced compared to the ‘Puffs, and still not quite gelling when it came to teamwork.

So in just over an hour, the Hufflepuff team was victorious, with a 180-point margin. Cedric was thrilled to catch the Snitch after his first attempt at a Wronski feint. He hadn’t quite mastered it yet, but when he pulled up early the Snitch obliged by jinking back skyward, making for an easy catch for the Seeker. There was a joyful party in the Hufflepuff common room between the games’ end and dinner, courtesy of the house-elves just next door.

Badger appetites might have been diminished a bit at the evening meal, but the highly experienced house-elves were accustomed to such things and presented lighter fare to the winning table. Professor Sprout smiled broadly throughout the meal. She’d had a friendly bet with Filius which he’d paid willingly. He’d known it was a tall order for his team to pull off the victory, but it showed his Eagles he believed in them, which was worth the five Galleon loss.

~0~0~

Almost before they realised, Harry and Co were sitting for end-of-term exams and acquitting themselves well. Harry, Neville and Susan rivalled the best of the first years, against all the other Houses, and the average grades of the Hufflepuffs combined were noticeably higher, as they were determined that no one would struggle or be left behind.

As promised, Madam Hooch had set up a combined speed trial and obstacle course to test the flying students, consisting of two laps of the Quidditch pitch, followed by a weaving course through twelve flagged ‘gates’, a climb to a sixty-foot high platform to retrieve a streamer, which they then had to wrap around a hoop forty-five feet below, before landing in a taped-off target zone. Scored for speed and accuracy, Harry edged out his Hufflepuff and Slytherin classmates and greatly outshone the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor group by a wide margin.

In point of fact, the ‘buddy’ group they’d pioneered performed thirty percent better than the traditionally taught group, with Harry and Madam Hooch calling it a massive success. Students could elect to discontinue flying classes after Christmas break, having managed to acquire basic flying skills. However, not one of the Slytherin or Hufflepuff students did so, while easily a third of those in the other two Houses initially did.

Though when Madam Hooch met with the combined Eagle and Lion class one last time before the end of the year and explained the ‘buddy’ experiment, only a couple of first years ended up trading flying classes for extra study time, and she had the most bountiful second term class list in living memory. She’d also managed to talk Professor McGonagall, as Deputy Headmistress, into waiving the rule of no personal brooms at school during first year, for those that had signed up for the second term classes. The pair of witches were loudly applauded by most of the assembled students when they announced the news at dinner, during the last week before term break.

~0~0~

The last day of classes was December 17th, leaving two days of downtime for the students. It gave the professors time to mark exams, while their charges worked their way into a fully-fledged holiday spirit. On the first of those days, the DADA study group, which had become Harry’s core group of friends, met in their co-opted classroom to exchange gifts and have a small party of their own. This would leave the last day of term for packing and some epic snowball fights, given a substantial snowstorm, was expected overnight.

The house-elves had halfway adopted the group; the previously abandoned room they’d selected was spotlessly clean and the stained glass windows shone like jewels. They’d managed to find a mismatched group of furniture, that included a table large enough for everyone to study at, several aged (though clearly repaired and cleaned) couches and armchairs, and had laid a padded floor in one half of the room, for spell practice sessions.

They’d elected to open presents as a group and squeezed into the sitting area (sporting a merry blaze in the somehow newly acquired fireplace) to do so. The friends passed around largely simple gifts: chocolate, small trinkets, fun presents both magical and Muggle, along with what looked like most of the contents of a Muggle stationery shop, and the experience thrilled Harry to the core. Somehow everyone seemed to realise this was Harry’s first true Christmas, and his joy at the simple gifts was very infectious.

There was only one fly in the ointment, on that happy occasion, in the form of an ancient, doddering owl appearing through the magical passage in the window. It thudded into Harry’s side, where he was squished into the arm of the couch, half-heartedly poked out a leg, bearing a letter, then collapsed into the sleep of the dead on the sofa arm.

Dean Thomas exclaimed, “That’s Errol, the Weasley owl. Has to be the oldest post owl still flying, but I guess they can’t afford to retire him. How strange he came here and not to one of the redheads.”

Neville looked at Harry, and they twigged why at exactly the same time. “Oh Merlin, what is Ronald up to now?” Neville asked, while Harry just covered his face and groaned.

“I guess I should open this thing and find out,” he said, very reluctantly, gesturing with the letter he’d retrieved from the owl.

Unrolling the parchment, Harry read out loud.

Dear Harry,

I know we haven’t met but I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about our family from Ronald. He’s a good boy and I’m sure he’s told you, as his best friend, loads of stories about Christmases here at the Burrow. He forgot to make sure you knew that you were invited to join us for Christmas, as I’m certain you don’t wish to go back to the Muggles for the break. I have cleared your visiting us with Headmaster Dumbledore, given he’s your magical guardian, and he thought it a splendid idea.

We’ll meet you all at Kings Cross Station on the 20th, as we normally do. Just stick with Ronnie so no one gets separated. It’s going to be a wonderful time, and we’re very pleased you’ll be staying with us.

Looking forward to meeting you on the 20th,

Love Mum Weasley

For close to a minute, silence reigned, before exploding in a cacophony of noise.

Harry was loudest with a half-shouted, “She’s off her bleeding rocker! Are all Weasleys insane or is it just Ronald and his mother, and maybe that obsessed younger sister?”

“This is a joke, right? Someone’s trying to pull your leg, Harry?” asked Susan. “It can’t be for real!”

Seamus commented, “I’d heard the Weasel talking to his two mates about having someone special coming to stay at Christmas, but sorry mate, I’m so used to tuning them out, I didn’t realise they were planning something so stupid.”

Harry, who was wedged in beside the Irish boy, nudged him and assured Seamus that he couldn’t be held responsible for the actions of deluded idiots.

Padma asked the key question, “So what are you going to do about it, Harry? I kind of got the impression you’re trying to keep from getting Dumbledore’s attention too much. Especially with your guardianship changing.”

Harry sighed deeply, “Yeah, time to call Soraya. But I’ll do that later, after our party. I believe we have loads of good stuff to eat, and I’m looking forward to a piece of Graham’s birthday cake.”

With that, he deflected the group back to the celebrations and shoved the issue of the Weasleys onto the back burner. Half an hour later, the geriatric Errol awoke, enjoyed part of a ham sandwich and departed for the Owlery to catch a second nap before returning to Ottery St Catchpole. By that time, Harry was deep in discussion with Soraya, Ragnok and Firelock, with Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom also joining them.

Harry had sent the letter through to Ragnok, who’d read it for the group. The reaction was much the same as Harry’s friends, questioning how closely aligned with sanity and reality some of the Weasleys were.

“We have several options here, as I see it,” Firelock started the problem-solving part of the discussion. “Obviously Harry going to the Weasleys is not one of them!”

“Firstly, are we ready to disclose the change in Harry’s guardianship and alert Dumbledore to the fact?” Ragnok continued.

The consensus was mixed on that one.

“We do have the Dursleys authorising Ms Whittaker to act in their stead as Harry’s Muggle guardian. Do we do a bait and switch, insinuating that Soraya is picking Harry up on their behalf, to join ‘his family’ for the holidays? If we do, Harry’s going to have to be careful what he says, outside his group of friends, about what he did over the break,” Madam Bones opined.

“I could do that. Just keep things general like my family had a nice Christmas dinner, I got to see some friends, and we did some shopping and went to the movies. Things like we ate out a couple of times as well. I just don’t have to mention any names.” Harry was quite enthusiastic about the idea.

“We’d have to ensure Albus doesn’t use legilimency on Harry when he gets back to school. The Board has had several parental complaints that he’s done that without permission, but we’ve been unable to substantiate them unfortunately, as there were no other witnesses.” That statement of Augusta’s had Amelia, as the DMLE Head, shooting Neville’s grandmother a note, ‘We need to talk about this later.’

Ragnok offered, “We have the ability to provide Harry with a means to get around that, and truthfully, I should have thought of this sooner. Harry’s watch already has a Portkey to Gringotts, along with some Glamour charms. We could add protections against Imperius, potions and poisons, as well as mind protections, and basic emergency shielding against spells. It won’t hold everything off, but it will offer substantial safeguards.”

“I like that idea! And I’m sure I can fend off any delusional Weasleys at the station, knowing that Augusta and Amelia will also be there.” Soraya sounded almost excited at the chance to take on Molly Weasley.

“I bet our friends’ parents will help too. I’ll have those with mirror-boxes give them a heads up, so they’ll definitely be on our side if there’s any trouble,” Harry added.

Firelock pulled the plan together for the group.

“Soraya, you will be writing to Molly Weasley and advising her that Harry’s Muggle guardians have requested he come home for the Christmas break, as there have already been many plans made. Feel free to reinforce that it’s polite to check with a child’s family before stealing him away for a holiday with complete strangers.”

Soraya and Harry outright laughed at that, while the rest of the group chuckled.

“Amelia, would you have time to help Soraya, Ragnok and I draft the letter to Dumbledore? It’s going to need to be a very subtle cease and desist demand,” requested Firelock.

“It will be my pleasure,” the DMLE Head replied.

“Perhaps I might have a quiet word in a few friendly ears on the Board of Governors, about a certain Headmaster overriding the wishes of the parents of a Muggle-raised student and sending a child to almost complete strangers for Christmas, without even asking the child’s wishes. It wouldn’t hurt to sow some seeds of discontent regarding the old goat,” volunteered Augusta, which led to a round of laughter from her fellow conspirators.

“Harry, I think you’ll be safe for the next day and a half. Stay out of Dumbledore and Weasley’s sight as much as possible. If either confronts you, explain you have plans with your Muggle guardians, as a family, and can’t possibly accept an invitation to go elsewhere at this late date. Stay polite, don’t get drawn into an argument, and where possible, do NOT look the Headmaster directly in the eyes. That crooked bump on his nose is a good place to stare at. We’ll have letters to both parties by lunchtime tomorrow, and I’d suggest you stick with a group of friends at all times. If you run into difficulties, ask for Professor Sprout or Professor Flitwick to attend any meeting with the Headmaster.” Ragnok concluded his instructions, then smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry Harry, we’ll have this sorted out in no time. And if anything untoward happens, use your Portkey. Then we’ll send Madam Bones after the troublemakers. I think she’d rather enjoy it, actually.” Firelock laughed as he finished those last words.

Harry relaxed. It was a solid plan, and part of him didn’t mind pulling the wool over Dumbledore’s eyes. Served him right for messing with Harry’s life and sticking him at the Dursleys for ten horrible years.

~0~0~

The last day of term went as planned. The snowball fights were fierce and wild. It seemed possible that Ronald had not been let in on the plan by Dumbledore or his mother, because he didn’t approach Harry at all. Neither did the Headmaster, though he gazed down on Harry with an air of deep disappointment at dinner, as if Harry had deliberately ruined his plans. It turned out that it was true, but Harry wasn’t going to confirm that.

Finally, it was time to climb aboard the Hogwarts Express to return to London for the Christmas break. The study group members grabbed a couple of adjoining compartments and happily wandered back and forth. They pooled their selections from the trolley for a picnic lunch, along with a variety of sandwiches and cupcakes from the Hogwarts kitchens. Apparently, it was a Hufflepuff House-elf tradition that the Badgers always ate well on the train home.

They arrived at Kings Cross in a very jovial mood, happy to see their families there to greet them. Ragnok and Soraya, following up on a concern Harry had raised, had worked to create a special treat for all of the Muggleborn students and their families, arranging for them to receive magically-keyed badges that allowed them to pass through the barrier onto the platform.

They’d managed to keep it as a surprise from the hundred plus students of all years, and there were many tears of joy evident, particularly for the older students, who’d often felt ‘less’ for not being greeted right off the train.

The Weasley matriarch was spotted at a distance, but Harry’s friends and their families circled the wagons so to speak when she started towards the group. When one of the Weasley twins shot Ronald with a neon pink hair colour-changing hex, Molly Weasley switched her plans to yelling very loudly at her identical sons for picking on their youngest brother. The twins made surreptitious short bows in Harry’s direction, and he returned the gesture, making a note to thank them for their diversion after the holidays.

Harry parted from his friends a little reluctantly. They’d made plans to meet, between Christmas and New Year, for lunch in Gastronomic Alley, followed by an afternoon of seeing a Muggle movie and shopping. But he’d become very close with his Housemates especially and was going to miss Neville and Susan the most. Still, Soraya would have loads of plans, he knew, and there would be fun times visiting the Enklabe, so he knew the time would fly.

Neville was thrilled at another level because his gran had agreed to a trip to Ollivanders for his own wand. So with final hugs, Harry and Co went their separate ways. The break would fly by before they knew, and they’d soon be back together again.

---