The Alexander

Ron was certain that there was not a single student not staring at the grand, magnificent castle perched atop the mountain cliff they were sailing towards. Ron couldn't help but think that the light beaming into the dim darkness of the night looked a bit like a jack-o-lantern, but much more grand. Especially with the star-strewn sky all around the castle, so you could actually see the unbelievable number of arches, towers and gargoyles. Why were there so many gargoyles anyways?

"Hey, Alexander, why are there so many gargoyles? I mean, earlier you mentioned that because Hogwarts was founded around a thousand years ago, it would probably be in the- uh, Brush? Style of architecture? But I swear I once heard Percy prattle about how the church back home is in the Golic, or something like that, style, because of all the gargoyles and fancy rock work. But that only came later, didn't it? I mean, there's definitely some plaque in town back home on the church saying that it was built in the fourteenth century or something."

Alexander turned towards Ron from where he had also been staring at Hogwarts, just as awed as the rest of their lot, meeting his eyes with an impressed smile.

"Indeed, Ron, you are correct. And impressively so, considering that a significant portion of that knowledge was scrounged up from conversations years old." Ron preened a bit at that. It was nice being noticed for once. "But, yes, the early medieval castle architectural style of Scotland, sometimes known as Broch style, is nowhere to be found. Of course, if it were, we would probably be inside the keep at this very moment, seeing as many forts at the time were wooden ones, built on lakes to be defendable. Or just a big ring of dirt and wood, with a simple moat or something. As to why it is so gothic in it's design? Well, I haven't the faintest idea" Alexander said, flippantly shrugging his shoulders as he returned to staring at Hogwarts. Ron, however, noticed something… peculiar, about Alexander. But before he could speak, Alexander continued.

"It could be that Hogwarts has been expanded and redesigned. It could be that Wizards of the time were simply advanced beyond muggles, and that as a result, I am also behind on architectural trends due to studying muggle history. Or something entirely different."

Silence fell over their little boat, as Harry and some girl he didn't know the name of kept staring at the castle, while Ron kept his stare locked on Alexander as he mulled over how he was going to ask him about it for a moment or two. But it wasn't like he could ignore it either. Not when Alexander might have some way of fixing it if he was just told.

"Erm, Alexander? You do know that we were supposed to switch to our school uniforms in the train, right?" Ron still couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it sooner. After all, they'd walked all the way from the train to the lake without any of them ever spotting that instead wearing robes like the rest of them, Alexander was wearing an admittedly dark coat, old and worn, with patches here and there. It was also pretty big, clearly meant for an adult, hanging down to Alexander's calfs, even though the other boy was pretty tall for their age, only a bit shorter than Ron himself, even.

And underneath that, he still wore the same rumpled old shirt, with two open buttons, no, missing, at the top, and no tie or anything. Not even a sweater in sight underneath. His mum would kill him if he tried going to the sorting like that.

But Ron couldn't help the stray thought that maybe Alexander's mum would send him a howler, and actually say the other boy's last name. Then they'd finally know it. He kept not telling them and dodging questions about it like the plague. But then he remembered that they'd find out at the sorting anyways. He wondered what wizarding family the other boy was from. He had to be from one of them, with his wandless magic and all, and probably a strict one too, if they already had him practicing. Maybe he was some disgraced Malfoy? He had the blonde hair and grey eyes, after all. But then, just as Ron was about to contemplate how wicked it would be to tell his dad that he was friends with a disgraced Malfoy who probably had dirt on all the "proper" Malfoys, he was ripped from his thoughts as everyone else also started to notice Alexander's lack of uniform and asking him questions about it.

Alexander, because of course he would, just leaned back against the railing of the boat, smirking so smugly that Ron felt his hand itch to punch him like he would Fred or George if they looked like that, and spoke. "Now now, everyone, no need to worry about me. I am, after all, your wise and noble leader. Your dear leader, even. I am sure that soon enough I will be the exception to the rule, and will be allowed to dress as I please, through sheer force of personality."

"-a very important ceremony, because while you are here-… what are you wearing?" The really stern looking lady in green asked, who'd looked stern before, but now? With her lips a thin white line as her gaze travelled all over Alexander's admittedly pretty audacious get up, and her eyes dangerously narrowed? Now that was stern. He reckoned that she might even be as stern as his mum was when she was mad.

The other students retreated away from Alexander like they just realised he smelled of something foul, and Ron was just about to follow them.

But, well, it wouldn't really be same as leaving his brothers to the mercy of mum, would it? Then it was leaving someone he knew with someone he also knew, and that he knew loved all of them even if there were a lot of them, but this would be leaving his friend to the mercy of an incredibly stern outsider. Ron's foot, that was already off the ground, fell back to be firmly planted, and he scrunched up his face like he was chewing on a lemon just from standing there. Ron noticed that Harry stayed too, even if he was wavering until he noticed that Ron was sticking around.

Ron also couldn't help but see that Harry kept sending longing glances towards the crowd, and Ron couldn't really blame the bloke, since it was just his practice facing mum that let him stare right at McGonagall as he stepped up right behind Alexander.

Really, it was a bit like staring at the sun. You got better at it the more you did it. He'd know, after all the times him and his brothers picked quidditch positions based on a good old sun staring competition. Back when they were young and stupid. He reckoned that it had to have been a year since they last did it, at least.

Alexander looked 'surprised' but it was so clearly faked that, well, it came off a bit like a death wish- Wait, no, snarky. The word Ron meant to use was snarky. But then Alexander just started, uh, investigating his clothes by looking at them, inch my inch, until finally, when he sniffed the sleave of his coat, and then licked it, McGonagall cut in, apparently deciding that she was losing control of the situation.

Which she probably was, given the giggling amongst the students who weren't under McGonagall's stare. So, really, just everyone other than him and Harry. And Hermione, he couldn't help but notice, as she stood thunderstruck by Alexander's display, and very indignant. But that was just because she was a stick in the mud.

"I will now repeat myself, and I do hope that from now on, you will keep in mind that I do not appreciate being forced to do so. Not at all" She stared him down, with a bit of a softer look then before, which was a bit weird really. She looked more unimpressed at Alexander's behaviour than angry. But Ron would take it. "What are you wearing."

Alexander drew himself up to his full height, his shoulders rising, and his hands climbing to be prepared to gesture and gesticulate with every word. Ron already knew that pose. Fred and George took it all the time. It meant he was about to perform. It would be funny. It would probably also be the last time he was funny, if the further narrowing of McGonagall's eyes were any indication. She had clearly also seen that pose enough times to know it by heart.

"Well, Professor McGonagall, my research has admittedly been cut a bit short, so I was not able to perform every test I had in mind. I wasn't able to rub the sleaves together, and hear the fabric's rustle, nor was I able to cut a sample as I had initially imagined, and compare the tensile strength to previously observed statistics, however," Here, Alexander paused dramatically, and while the room was mostly quiet because they couldn't believe how quickly he was digging his own grave, it still certainly had quite an effect.

"Preliminary results of my investigation seem to indicate that these…" he gestured to what he was wearing, and did a little twirl to let everyone see the mischief in his eyes, "are actually… My. Clothes." Alexander finished, presenting his 'findings' with all the breathy significance of someone who'd discovered how to make brooms twice as fast.

The room broke out in raucous laughter, especially at the sour look on McGonagall's face, like someone was forcing her to eat lemon drops, and she was pinching her lips as hard as she could to stop it.

Even Ron thought it was a funny look, although he couldn't help but think it was a bit… fake? He didn't really know her very well, but he had gotten pretty good at seeing through acts with Fred and George at large for years.

It took quite a while for McGonagall's continuous stream of stares, with the help of her little underling Granger, who was practically the only one who didn't even chuckle, to quiet down everyone till there were only giggles and chuckles left.

"You, Mr.?" McGonagall turned her gaze back to Alexander.

"Alexander." One of her eyebrows rose at the lack of a last name, but she clearly realized the same thing Ron did when it came the sorting.

"Detention for the first three days of the semester. You will be sorting research manuals based on how many procedures they include. Perhaps that will impart to you the value of proper research and analysis." McGonagall said, with quite the bit of return snark, and Ron glanced pityingly at Alexander who… seemed fine. Alright then.

McGonagall looked at him for a moment. "Well then, Mr. Alexander, I look forward to your sorting. I am sure it will be enlightening. And to the rest of you, line up in rows of two, and do make yourself presentable. The doors to the great hall will open in fifteen minutes."

The other students started to chatter as they slowly started forming the long procession they'd been asked to walk in, with many sending grins or thumbs up to Alexander, who returned whatever he was given with a charming smile.

They also started to find their place in the line, and while they did, Ron couldn't help but ask a question as he grinned at the expense of Past-Alexander. "What happened to being the exception to the rule through 'sheer force of personality'?"

Alexander turned to him with a condescending smile, before talking to Ron like he was five. "Well, Ronald, stubbornness is a personality trait, and I am the exception to the rule, aren't I? I say, Mission. Accomplished."

Ron couldn't help but laugh at that, but soon enough they were distracted from their conversation, when they noticed Harry talking to some blonde ponce named Draco. What a stupid name. Fitting for a stupid Malfoy.

Still, talking to a Malfoy was better than standing in a room filled with nothing but nervous silence. That, at least, was one good thing to come from Alexander's performance. Turned out that everyone was more relaxed when even snarking your teacher only cost you three evenings. Because how bad could the sorting be if the teachers were that lenient?

Ron was snapped from that thought as Harry bumped into him, apparently flinching away from the ground when a ghost popped out of it.

Right, Harry probably hadn't seen ghosts before. As was the case for many others, he gathered, based on all the screaming, ducking, and pointing students. It really was a bit of a git move for the ghosts to just pop out all at once when most of the living people hadn't even heard of real ghosts beforehand.

Ron figured that they might even look a bit scary, actually, with their pearly white colouring like the joy of life had been sucked out of them, and their slight translucency, and especially the grey stains that was clearly blood on some of them? Yeah, he could see them being scary. He'd probably be scared too if he ran into one of them at night, even though he knew that all they could do is make him feel chilly.

Thankfully they were arguing like a bunch of geezers, which made them much less scary as soon as you noticed what they were saying.

"-we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost in tights and some itchy-looking neck thing asked. The neck thing actually looked a bit like a… tall sunny side up egg? With his head as the yolk.

No one answered. Ron was a bit surprised and that, because he honestly expected Alexander at least to say something, but when he turned to look at Alexander in the row behind him and Harry, he was just… staring. At the ghosts, that is, with a funny look on his face, like he was seeing something so weird that he hadn't even known that he'd wanted it. That was a strange reaction for a wizard kid. But was he muggleborn then? But what about all the magic? That made no sense without being from a magic family, but then-

Ron shook away the question. His friend was acting weird and might need help, and that was more important than some stupid questions, so Ron nudged Alexander, and asked him a quick "are you okay?", only returning to his attention to the ghost's when he got a small nod and a smile, even if Alexander's eyes still trailed after the ghosts. When Ron turned back to the front of the hall, McGonagall was apparently back, and the doors to the great hall were opening as the ghosts left through one of the walls.

Ron's nerves were suddenly back in full force. But, no. He could do this. He just had to do… something or other. And do that something or other so well he got a spot in Gryffindor. Simple. Easy. Even Percy had managed it.

And then it slammed into Ron that Percy, prat he could be, was great at everything and got amazing grades, and was a prefect. And that Fred and George were so inventive that mum and dad could never keep up with their new pranks. And that Charlie was brave and a flyer like no one else he knew, and that he worked with Dragons. And that Bill was like all his other brothers combined into one, not quite as good at any one thing as any of them, but brave, smart, inventive, and a great big brother. Even mum was fierce and great at a lot of things! But Ron? He was…

Just Ron.

But that was fine! Even if he couldn't make the cut for Gryffindor, he could surely manage another house. You always went somewhere, after all. And, sure, he wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw, but that still left… Slytherin, the house where nine in ten real death eaters came from, or Hufflepuff, the lame house.

Ron felt like the bottom had fallen out of his stomach, leaving only a giant pit, conveniently empty for all the butterflies to flap around in. His palms were sweaty, and his face felt cold. He still managed to keep track of the other first years, but he didn't really understand what was happening with them, at least not until a giant cheer went up from Gryffindor, as Harry was sorted there.

Great. Now none of his friends would be in his house, because Alexander was absolutely either awesome enough for Gryffindor, or smart enough for Ravenclaw. He wouldn't be shuffled off to Hufflepuff. He wasn't like Ron.

"Upton, Emilie!" McGonagall called, and some girl tripped on her way up to the sorting hat. And that U meant that it was time for Weasley soon. But wait, there were only four people in the line in front of him, and he was around the middle of the line, so wouldn't Alexander already have been sorted?

Ron turned to look over at the Gryffindor table, but only spotted Harry, who waved when they made eye contact, and gestured to another empty seat beside him.

Great, another person he'd disappoint.

Ron turned to his right as he both looked away from Harry, and got a perfect excuse when someone proded his shoulder, and he came face to face with Alexander. Wait, what was he still doing in line? Shouldn't he be down already? Unless… Was he a Zabini? Ron was pretty sure he might have heard something about a Zabini, and they had to be the only big wizarding family whose name came after the Weasley's.

Well, that wasn't actually true. It could be true, but Ron honestly knew very little about old wizard families outside of a couple who were real death eaters, a couple who his own family were friendly with, and a couple with bloody awesome names.

Zabini was in the last category. And because he'd heard his mum warn Bill about 'certain women' and used Zabini's mum as an example. Which Ron understood. It was a bit, uh - Ron sent a glance at his possibly-Zabini friend - circumspect to have five dead husbands.

Ron started paying attention again, when he noticed that Alexander's expression had softened, his usually angular and sharp face becoming far more soft as he clearly noticed everything Ron had wanted no one to notice. Great. Just bloody fantastic.

Ron could at least hope that maybe his ashamed flush would cancel out the pallor tones of his nervousness.

"Ron, did you know that Vengeance, when properly proportioned, is the ideal conflict resolution tool in any and all circumstances?" Alexander said conversationally, and Ron's head snapped to him at the sheer randomness of it, even if relief washed through him at being spared from some speech on how nervousness was normal.

"Well that's just not true. I mean, don't you reckon that if you sock someone for smacking you, then they'll just hit you a second time?" Ron argued, both because that was so obvious, and because it was just plain wrong to always hit back whenever someone annoyed you.

"Well, sure, on a certain level that is true, however," Alexander smirked with a gleam in his eye, like he had the perfect response "That just means you've gone too soft. The solution is simply to thrash him hard enough that he's laid flat, and then, BAM! Vengeance taken, conflict resolved."

Ron wasn't stupid, he knew what Alexander was doing, but, well, it was working, so he played along.

"Well, sure, but what about his friends?"

Alexander gave a disappointed shake of his head as he answered, "Ron, he started hitting me of all people. He is clearly far too uncouth and uncultured to have friends."

"I don't know about that. I mean, I have friends, and I sort of want to thump your head at the moment" Ron said with a grin. "Besides, is it really resolved, when you still have someone out there itching to punch you in the back of the head?"

"Ah, right you are, later retaliatory vengeance is indeed a problem in my philosophy," Alexander said, looking 'thoughtful', before snapping his fingers as though struck by an idea. "I've got it! The solution is so simple, my good Ronald: More vengeance! I am utterly sure that literally escaping any future incidents will be a simple matter with the easy addition of a broken kneecap into our equation. What do you say now, Ronald?" Alexander said, pretending to arrogantly revel in his logic like some sort of fairy tale villain.

"Well, I say-"

"W-E-A-S-L-E-Y, R-O-N-A-L-D" Ron's head snapped to McGonagall, who had said his name slowly and loudly, with every letter clearly enunciated. She didn't look happy. Ron somehow figured out that it wasn't the first time she'd said his name. The snickers from all the seated students at his and Alexander's expense also clued him in, and he flushed with embarrassment as he hurried to the stool.

At least he wasn't nervous anymore.

Then the sorting hat was on his head, all the way over his eyes even, and he heard a voice not his own inside his head. It was… strange.

'So, yet another Weasley has come to Hogwarts, aye? Quite a flock you have nowadays. I shouldn't be surprised, really. I've seen you in the mind of all your brothers, after all. And yet, every other year another one of you come, and I find myself surprised again. Well, not much more to say, is there? After all, Weasleys go to-'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron felt elated and disappointed all at once. After all, he didn't go to Gryffindor. Weasleys did. Well then, Ron decided, he'd just have to prove that he was a Weasley, and that there was a reason Weasleys went to Gryffindor. Ron walked determinedly towards his spot beside Harry, heart swelling at the cheers from his brothers and his new house, and sat beside Harry. Then he remembered how hungry he was, and noticed the lack of food, and that was, for now, enough to sway him from thoughts of proving his greatness and belonging, as he simply relished sitting with his friend, and waited for food and their other friend.

And wait they did. Name after name was called, yet Alexander remained until he stood alone with a dark skinned boy soon called to the stool as one "Zabini, Blaise!"

Which left only Alexander. Alone. And as the biggest mystery Ron had ever wanted solved, and the one that was only moments away.

The entire hall seemed to hold it's breath as they longed for the last name to be called, which would signal that soon enough their meal would be delivered.

Then a grumble was heard. Something about finiky old enchantments? And Ron's eyes flickered away from where they had been glued to alexander for only a moment, only to snap back away from Alexander and onto McGonagall when it finally got through his skull that it was her who'd grumbled, as was clear by her pinched lips and the way she shook her head. Then she opened her mouth to call one last name.

"Alexander, no surname recorded!"

Ron deflated, because, honestly, how was that in any way fair? First of all, Alexander knew their last names, and they just... didn't? And secondly, no one knowing your last name was like, imunity from any sort of real punishment outside of expulsion! Because sure, detention probably wasn't fun, but it sounded far better than what Fred and George had told him about the howlers they had received before they "Got a sense for the lines." as if they knew anything about lines.

Ron shook it off, and payed attention to the whispers from all around the hall instead. Huh. Apparently not having a surname recorded was more rare than he thought, given how all the students, especially the older ones, and even the teachers, were staring at Alexander as they whispered to each other. Nothing near how they'd reacted to Harry, of course, but, well, how could anything be as immediately interesting as Harry? They'd all heard about him since they were kids.

"Hey, Ron, is it really that rare for someone to decide that they don't want to share their last name with everyone? I mean, I might have done it, if I knew how people would react... And if it wasn't stamped on my forehead." Harry asked with a grin at the end.

"Dunno, mate. Could be. But, well, even the teachers are talking, so it has to be sort of rare, right? Ron wondered aloud.

Which was when Hermione cut in, apparently too nosey to let a chance to show off slip by.

"It isn't just him choosing not to reveal his last name. That has happened before, not often, but it was noted down in Hogwarts: A History that students could request that their name wasn't shared, but it would be said as such. I advise you two to pay attention to the actual wording of a statement rather than what you think it should say. Professor McGonagall clearly said that the surname wasn't even recorded, which has, according to Hogwarts: A History, never happened before." Hermione said, sounding, just, incredibly annoying. Like she was doing them a favour by showing off how much she knew and how many of the schoolbooks she'd already read, and giving that smug "advice" to them. Ron rolled his eyes at her, and he just knew she'd be annoying in all their classes, especially with that "hurt" look she was playing up. Already she was shaping up to be an absolute teacher's pet who was always the victim, no matter the circumstance.

Ron turned back, and he figured that they were probably also talking because, well, Alexander was still wearing his muggle coat and all that, which only made the large wizarding hat that was covering his face completely even funnier. In fact, it was even tilted, because the bun the other boy's hair was gathered in propped up the back of the hat, making it look a bit like someone had pun a hat on his face with a sticking charm to shut him up. Even Dumbledore seemed to find it funny as his blue eyes twinkled. Of course, he didn't exactly have a lot of room to judge how people dressed, given that he was wearing

But then it got less funny, as Alexander just… sat there, for three minutes, after an already long sorting, as Ron's hunger grew, and he was taunted by memories of all the stories his brothers had told him about the Hogwarts feasts.

… Of course, then after five minutes passed, it got even funnier that it was at the very start, and Ron started to snigger both as Alexander started tapping his foot in impatience, and as everyone else began to grumble about the hat being so slow with the very last sorting.

Then came a further two minutes, which was when it fell right back into not fun, especially as Fred and George got bored and started to whisper about how good Hogwarts food was to everyone within earshot.

Finally, something happened as Alexander started to stand up, and the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" right at that moment.

Claps and cheers sounded, some mostly cheering for the food they'd soon get, as Alexander… stomped? Over to the Gryffindor table with a deep frown on his face. It was… stange, seeing alexander with such an angry, even hateful expression. Like he seriously wanted to hurt someone. He dropped heavily into his seat across from them.

Ron was about to ask about how he was, but before he could, Harry nudged him, and motioned towards Dumbledore. Ron glanced at where Alexander was scowling down at his perfectly polished gold plate, before turning fully to the headmaster. Ron really hoped it would be a short speech.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Then Dumbledore calmly sat down again in his great big chair, slinging his long silver beard over his shoulder to eat, as if he hadn't just spouted nonsense. Ron, however, shrugged it off. He'd heard about the man before.

Harry, however, hadn't, so he was speaking to Percy about how bonkers and brilliant Dumbledore was.

Ron shrugged. Percy was pretty great at explaining things, so Harry didn't pick the worst person to ask, or whatever. But Ron had another friend to see to, so he turned away, and spoke to Alexander.

"Hey, are you alright with your sorting? Did something go wrong? If so, I think we could talk to professor McGonagall, and she could do… something," Ron said, not exactly beaming at the thought, but, well, what else could he do?

Alexander startled, the deep furrows of his face smoothing into a look of momentary surprise, before he took on a look so pinched up that it was clearly fake.

"… Am I alright? Am I alright?" His voice rose in volume into a yell, and some of the other first years, and a couple older students, turned to stare at him. "I just spent seven minutes sitting on a chair, getting insults hurled at me within my own mind! Do you know what the first thing that damned hat said to me was? Because I do, and I believe it was something near 'Well, you at least can't be in Hufflepuff, you're far too vehemently vengeful - with quite vicious undertones might I add - and spiteful to the point of the extreme for such a kind house' as if that's supposed to be a bad thing!" Alexander said, his expression looking exactly like Aunt Murial's did when someone didn't hold open a door for her, or get up to pull out her chair, causing laughter to break out across the table.

"And do you know what comes next? Well, the hat was having a rather tough time picking which would suit me more among the three left, because, as said in it's words, 'At first it would seem that your lack of wisdom, even considering your startling brilliance, would grant Gryffindor an edge, but what you lack in wisdom, you also lack in honour, evening out the inadequacies.' When we all know that a lack of wisdom and honour is an ability, that lets a person do great things, like invent new potions, create spells, and bring about societal change!" Alexander was arguing with passion now, gesturing wildly as everyone hung off his every word.

"And that's just a few examples! You can also accomplish feats such as being the first person to get arrested for unethical potion experimentation, or become 'that guy with no fingers due to spell creation mistakes', or even be one of the few people in recorded history to be torn apart by an angry mob of their own creation!" Alexander listed off, each point getting louder and louder as waves of laughter followed his 'options'.

Ron finally got himself to mostly stop laughing, at least enough so that he could gather breath to ask a question, "So if you really are so even in your advantages over the rest of us common folk, how did you get the sorting hat to finally pick out a house for you?"

Alexander turned to him then, and explained with a 'modest' expression.

"Well, the hat was struggling something fierce, and when I asked how long it would be, with a good layer of playful sarcasm of course, it responded that it would not be hurried or harried. I then calmly-"

"You did look rather calm with all that foot tapping and finger drumming" Ron couldn't help but add, even if the only indication that he was heard was a little quirk of Alexander's lips as he barrelled through, and the others laughed.

"-explained that I was hungry. It then said that hats thankfully were not, and that as such, I had no need to worry that it would starve while trying to pick a house for a person - and I quote - 'so needlessly inconclusive that it might very well be purposeful'. I then, comfortingly," - This time it was Harry's turn, and he simply snorted in disbelief, sowing further joy - "told it that while hats may very well not get hungry even when they have a mouth, the people who wear hats do get peckish, and that I would be leaving to sit and eat amongst my friends with or without a house should it keep navel-gazing and dilly-dallying. That was apparently enough for the hat to place me in Gryffindor." Alexander said, finishing with a smiling shrug as he sat at the centre of the laughter and merriment of their little dinner group.

Laughter that only exploded once someone Ron didn't really see though back on it for a moment, and called out that, "Wait, that's true! The Hat only called out your house after you got up!"

The feast only got better for Ron and Harry from there, as they laughed, ate, and made friends with all the first years around, and even a couple second years who'd been drawn in by Alexander when he'd first sat down and regaled with the tale of his sorting. They then went to bed, happier than they could ever remember before in their large soft beds, falling asleep before they even knew it.

Hermione didn't quite have that experience, as she'd sat a bit too far from the centre of their group, Alexander, to really get into their conversations. But that was fine. She was so different from him, the opposite, really, that she'd probably not like him very much in the end, even if he was a bit magnetic at first. And, well, she'd sat beside Percy, the prefect, so while she did have a delightful conversation about the curriculum with him, it was a bit hard to really befriend him due to the sheer age difference between them.

And because he quickly turned to his actual friends.

But that was again alright, she reasoned. Even if she had not exactly made any friends on the first day, and even if the most popular student in her year called her unlikeable even when she tried, that didn't mean she couldn't make any friends tomorrow. She'd shine in the classroom, she always had, and that would impress someone.

At least, so she told herself, again and again, as she lay awake deep into the night. It didn't need to be a lot of people, just one. They didn't need to be popular, or even in her dormitory. In fact, she didn't think it likely that it would be a girl from her dorm, given how they looked at her. But there were many other halls for girls in her year in the tower.

And there just had to be one person who would appreciate the only thing she knew she could offer.