A fleet of tiny boats

After about nine hours of train riding, the Hogwarts Express finally shuddered to a stop with a long, drawn-out hiss of steam.

Bell was sleeping peacefully, her head resting against the window while wisps of her black hair covered her face. Drake had sprawled across the booth opposite us, snoring softly, a bit of drool draining from his mouth and onto the booth (thank magic for Reparo, cause that would be disgusting to clean up). I, however, couldn't have slept if someone had cast Somnus on me - I was far too excited.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a gruff voice boomed from outside the train.

I quickly shook Bell awake. Her sky-blue eyes shot open immediately, alert and curious. I guess being deaf does heighten your other senses. Drake, however, was a different story entirely. I shook him, shook him, and shook him some more, but I only got the same response.

"Just five more minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face deeper into the cushions.

I pulled my wand from its holder, remembering his earlier insistence about wanting to be treated like everyone else. Well, who was I to deny such a reasonable request? With deliberate and enjoyable precision, I raised the wand above his head and brought it down with a swift motion.

WOOPA!

"Ow, fuckin' hell!" Drake jerked upright, rubbing the red mark forming on his forehead.

"Get up, we're here," I announced cheerfully.

He glared at me, still massaging his forehead where my wand had left its mark. "Why did you hit me?"

"You said you wanted me to treat you like normal," I reminded him innocently. "This is normal."

His eyes darted to Bell, who was failing spectacularly at hiding her silent laughter behind her hands. "She didn't get hit," he pointed out accusingly.

"She's a lady," I explained with exaggerated patience. "You can't hit a lady."

"Firs' years! This way!" the gruff voice called again, more insistent this time.

Drake opened his mouth to argue further, but the surge of students flowing past our compartment cut him off. We joined the crowd, shuffling along with our fellow first years. As we stepped onto the platform, I caught my first glimpse of our guide - a half-giant! My excitement, already at dangerous levels, somehow managed to increase further.

"Come on, Drake, Bell!" I grabbed their hands, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "I want to talk to him!"

We weaved through the crowd of students, passing a red bench with "Hogsmeade" written in peeling paint. The half-giant's voice boomed ahead of us. "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

When we finally reached the front of the group, I couldn't contain myself. I let go of my friends' hands and reached out to touch the half-giant's robes, tugging gently to get his attention.

He turned, and I found myself staring up (and up, and up) at a magnificent sight. He was easily twice the height of a normal man and three times as wide, with a wild mane of shaggy black hair and a beard that looked fluffier than the fluffiest clouds. His hands were the size of dustbin lids, and his feet in their leather boots reminded me of baby dolphins. Dark eyes glinted like beetles beneath heavy brows.

"Yeh need summat?" he rumbled, looking down at me with curiosity.

"You're a half-giant, right?" I asked, trying not to bounce on my toes with excitement.

"Tha' I am," he replied as we walked along a steep, narrow path.

"Could I ask some questions?"

"Go on then," he chuckled.

"You're about twelve feet tall, right?"

"Tha's abou' right."

"That means your mother was a giant and your father was a wizard, right?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"Blimey," his beetle-black eyes widened slightly. "How'd yeh figure tha' out?"

"Well, from what I know, if the giant is the father, most half-giants only grow to about ten feet and are less physically powerful but gain more magical resistance. You're taller than that, so unless you're an anomaly, it's the only thing that fits," I explained, the words rushing out in my excitement.

A broad smile spread beneath his tangled beard. "Yer a clever one, aren't yeh? What's yer name?"

"Felix Serendipity," I supplied quickly. "And you are?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, but jus' Hagrid'll do," he replied warmly.

I launched into a series of questions about half-giant biology and magical differences, barely pausing for breath. He replied to me with equal excitement, but sometimes I couldn't understand what he said - he had a very strong Scottish accent, you can't blame me. Behind us, Drake and Bell fell into their own conversation, with Bell writing rapid-fire responses in her notepad and insistently showing them to Drake.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" from the students as the narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Hogwarts was even cooler than I'd imagined, cooler than what Mom's stories about her time could make me picture.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Each had a glowing lantern mounted at its bow.

I was still staring at him, fascinated by everything about his unique magical nature.

He looked down at me, his enormous beard looking so fluffy I had to resist the urge to bury my face in it. "We can talk more later, if yeh like. Come visit me fer tea sometime."

I nodded eagerly. "I'd like that!"

Bell, Drake, and I claimed one of the boats, carefully climbing aboard to avoid tipping it. The small lantern at the bow cast a warm glow across the water, and I could see other first years and other students settling into their own boats around us.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, his massive frame taking up all available space. "Right then - FORWARD!"

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once when Hagrid said the word. The water was black as ink beneath us; I honestly wanted to jump in for a swim, I didn't know why. No one spoke much as we sailed forward, all eyes fixed on the great castle overhead. It towered (ha, get it, tower; okay, I'll stop now) above us as we drew nearer.

Something large moved in the water beside us, creating ripples that gently rocked our boat. I caught a glimpse of what looked like a giant tentacle sliding beneath the surface.

"Did you see that?" I whispered to Drake, who had gone rather pale.

Bell, noticing our agitation, peered over the side of the boat. The water rippled again, closer this time, and she quickly sat back, her eyes wide.

"Just don't look down," Drake muttered, his hands gripping the sides of the boat. "Pretend you didn't see anything."

"Heads down!" Hagrid called out, his voice echoing across the water.

We ducked as our boat passed through the ivy curtain, entering a dark tunnel that seemed to lead right under the castle. The passage was lit only by the lanterns on our boats.

The tunnel opened into a kind of underground harbor, where our fleet of little boats came to a stop. The lantern light reflected off the damp rocks and pebbles that made up the shore.

"Watch yer step!" Hagrid called out as he checked the boats, his lamp bobbing in the darkness. "These rocks can be mighty slippery!"

He wasn't wrong - the rocks were slick with moisture, and I had to catch Drake's arm to keep him from slipping. We clambered up over the rocks and pebbles, following Hagrid's lamp up through a passageway in the rock. The path led us up and up, finally emerging onto smooth, damp grass in the shadow of the castle.

The tunnel opened into a vast underground harbor, where our boats gently bumped against a small pier made of stone. I practically leaped onto solid ground.

We climbed a passageway carved into the rock, following the bobbing light of Hagrid's lamp. The path wound upward, eventually emerging onto a sweep of damp grass in the shadow of the castle. 

We climbed a flight of stone steps and crowded around a huge oak door. Hagrid raised his massive fist and knocked three times, the sound echoing like thunder in the night air.

The door swung open immediately, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. Her stern face and perfectly straight posture immediately commanded respect, and I found myself unconsciously standing a little straighter.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

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