Chapter 12: Magical Welcome

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I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.

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1st September 1991, Hogwarts

Hedwig gently nipped his earlobe and flew away. Before Harry could even ask himself where he was supposed to go, he heard a loud voice, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

He turned and saw a giant man holding a lantern, and Harry smiled to himself. It was time for his magical adventure to truly begin.

The man had a large beard and was far larger than it should be possible, meaning that he probably had some kind of magical ancestry. Harry simply assumed that this was the infamous Hagrid. The stories underestimated how large the man really was. He was at least twice as tall as the average adult man, and the young Potter had to admit that he was slightly intimidated.

He kept calling out for the first years to join him, "C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, the first years followed the giant man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, although everyone looked slightly apprehensive as to what going to happen to them.

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

Harry heard other first years gasping and exclaiming in wonder as they took their first look of Hogwarts. It was breathtaking. By the end of the path stood a large lake that was reflecting the moonlight and the stars. On the other side of the lake stood a beautiful castle with many turrets and towers.

But what was the most breathtaking was the sounds that came into the back of his mind. It was just like the wand shop only thousands of times more intense. There seemed to be infinite heartbeats with different tempos. Some were intense and loud, others seemed kind and smooth, a few seemed strict and calculated, and finally, there were the hidden ones that were only noticeable when you actively look for them. Together, they made a complex yet beautiful symphony, like warmth in musical form, and yet Harry knew that there was no sound. He didn't use his ears to hear, but he also knew that the songs were real.

He didn't know how long he just stood there, revelling in the warmth the music gave him until he stiffened when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Blaise and he looked concerned, "Are you alright?"

He shrugged, "Yes. I was just distracted by the castle."

"Well, we're the last ones without a boat. I guess it'll just be the two of us," Blaise remarked.

Harry nodded and tried to put the symphony to the back of his head. It was still there, in the background, but he wasn't distracted by it anymore. For the first time, Harry noticed the small boats and sat on the last one with Blaise.

"Everyone in?" shouted maybe-Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Yelled their guide as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which revealed a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

"Everyone here?" the giant asked loudly.

Seeing that no one said anything, he raised his gigantic fists and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this woman was a professional. Harry remembered his memories as a teacher and understood the reason for the woman's rigidity. First impressions are very important, especially for young students. Trying to look friendly will mean that you will not be respected, and you won't be able to manage them at all. When students are older, it's alright to be friendly with them, since they understand the dynamic properly. The woman in front of him was without a doubt been a teacher for a long time.

Immediately, Harry assumed that this was Professor McGonagall, and he was proven correct when their guide spoke up, "The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall."

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

Harry was happy that he had guessed the identity of the giant man correctly.

The woman pulled the door, revealing the enormous entrance hall. It really was unreasonable bog considering that it's only the entrance to the castle. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was way too high to figure out its height, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

The students followed the stern woman until they arrived in an empty chamber, and they looked around nervously trying to reassure themselves.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." And left the chamber.

Well, the whole honour thing was not really the reason the house cup was a big deal. No, the big deal was the fact that the winning house tend to enjoy special privileges the following year. Things like extra time in the library, easy access to the Quidditch pitch, private lessons in certain subjects, and even extra Hogsmeade visits. The fifth and seventh years also end up with access to the restricted section of the library.

It was a big deal for those affected, and while the seventh years didn't care about the point system, the fourth and sixth years would benefit greatly from these perks, which is why they tend to pressure the younger ones to not lose too many points. It was technically peer pressure but for good behaviour, enforced by the older students. Harry had to admit that the system was very effective considering the small staff to student ratio.

The moment the transfiguration professor left the room the young students started to murmur nervously while looking around. Blaise gave him a nervous look and said, "Please tell me how we're getting sorted. The Weasley boy said his brothers told him something about fighting a troll."

Harry snorted in amusement, "You're worrying about nothing, really. I'm not going to spoil it out of respect for the school, but it's not a test of knowledge and they certainly wouldn't make you fight anything in front of anyone."

"As if you know anything!" a redhead boy spoke up.

Blaise seemed to rise to his defence, "Shove off Weasley!"

Assuming that this guy really was Ron Weasley, Harry chose not to escalate the situation, "I don't need to prove anything to you. Whether I am right or simply lying about knowing, you will still go through the sorting ceremony. If you don't believe me, then don't. It changes nothing for me, nor should it matter to you."

The boy just looked confused. Harry forgot that most eleven-year-old children don't really speak as he does. The Malfoy boy ended up answering for him with a condescending tone, "You're an idiot, Weasley."

The boy blushed and turned red. He looked like he wanted to fight Malfoy but was held back by another boy, "Don't let him get a rise out of you, Ron."

Draco sniffed angrily, "Still, hanging out with scum, Longbottom?"

"He's a better friend than a hundred of you!" the boy exclaimed.

Finally, Harry could see the boy who lived for the first time, and he definitely looked different than he thought he would. Oh, he was round and had an arrogant smile on his face, but what was surprising was the scar on his face. It wasn't just some random zig-zag shaped scar, not it only looked up from the root. However, the end of the scar continued down his face in a more random pattern than the straight line that made up the top.

While the highest part of the scar looked red and raw, the lower part seemed slightly healed. Honestly, anyone that looked at him would recognize who he was. The rest of the students murmured in admiration as they noticed the presence of the national icon among them.

Before Malfoy could reply, floating white beings just streamed through the wall. They were slightly transparent and glided across the room, not even noticing their presence. It was only when the fat monk noticed their presence that the other ghosts looked up to see them, "Oh, you must be the new students. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff, it was my old house, you know."

The first years stood frozen with pale faces. Harry, though, wasn't really scared as much as he was slightly fascinated. He had forgotten about the existence of ghosts in Hogwarts, and they fascinated him. They weren't really memories given form, considering the fact that they were able to make new ones, and yet, they couldn't be alive.

Were they souls, or more like magical paintings? He'll need to look it up later.

Harry noticed that the professor had returned and spoke up, "Move along now; the sorting ceremony is about the begin. Now, form a line a follow me."

Harry just stood in line and walked out of the chamber with the rest of the students. He did his best not to gape like his future classmates. The great hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air above four long tables that made up almost the entire length of the hall. On the other side of the hall, the professors sat at a table of their own. Even the ghosts were floating high above looking at them.

The ceiling itself was almost transparent offering him a view of the cloudy sky. Harry ignored the bushy haired girl that kept muttering to herself about Hogwarts, a history, and just admired the view. He ignored the change in the melody in his head. It was still very similar, only had a few extra layers on top. It was very hard to describe, but it was not the time for him to get lost in songs.

When they arrived on the other side of the hall, they stopped in front of a stool. On top was a traditional hat, although it looked far older than his own and somewhat rackety. All new students looked at the hat in confusion, that is until it moved and started to sing.

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I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.