The Boy Who Lived

Brewing Trouble

'Firs'-years! Firs'-years! This way! All right there, 'Arry?' beamed Hagrid as he gathered them all together to take them down a steep narrow path the Black Lake. They sat four to a boat and eventually glided through a tunnel under the castle itself. Hagrid then led them up a flight of stone steps and, as the group of first years crowded around the huge oak door, Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and thundered three times on the castle door.

Harry sighed in relief when Minnie answered the door and said, 'thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here.'

He may have been familiar with the school; indeed, he probably knew it better than many of the sixth and seven years, but, like this, it was still rather formal and intimidating. He saw Minnie cast a glance over the group, her green eyes resting momentarily on Harry with a small gleam that he recognised. He beamed back, reassured.

'Follow me, children,' and she led them through an entrance hall so huge you could have fitted the entire Dursley house into it. They reached an empty chamber that Harry knew was next to the Great Hall and he glanced at Ron who looked surprisingly nervous.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall, the familiarity of her soft Scottish lilt calming Harry's nerves. '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...'

Minerva contained the urge to smile. It was, every year, a very similar situation; being faced with forty or so young students who looked so small in the vastness of the castle, more so because they always looked so intimidated in their slightly oversized robes. She was pleased to see Harry relax when they caught eyes, he did, at least, know what came next. She noticed he was stood with the latest Weasley boy and smiled to herself; it seemed Harry was drawn to the Weasleys and she was pleased, they were a good family who she knew from right back to the Order of the Phoenix days before Harry was even born. She also spotted the platinum-blond haired boy that Harry had mentioned after his trip to Diagon Alley and immediately recognised him to be Lucius Malfoy's son. Her heart sunk slightly, she hoped that there would not be trouble between the two of them, especially as she could already see young Mr Malfoy eyeing Harry and muttering to two rather beefy young men which she suspected would quickly become his cronies.

'...your Houses will be your family at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn House points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points are awarded the House Cup. A great honour for your House. 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 wait.'

She turned away as she saw Harry try to flatten his hair; he was fighting a losing battle. The urge to laugh was intensified when she heard Mr Weasley say, 'Fred says it's a kind of test and that it hurts a lot. I think he was joking...'

'Move along now,' Minerva said. 'The Sorting is about to begin.'

It was sometime later, long after the Sorting and the Feast and the Prefects taking the new first years up to their dormitories, that there was a knock on her office door.

Harry threw himself into her arms.

'I'm in Gryffindor, mum!' he exclaimed happily.

'Happy?' she asked.

His face fell. 'The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin...'

'But you're not... what happened?'

'I argued against it.'

'Of course you did. Why, Harry?'

'Because of Draco Malfoy...'

'...Draco Malfoy,' she repeated weakly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Her fears already confirmed. She seemed to remember rumours about a legendary Hogwarts feud between Abraxas Malfoy and Fleamont Potter, it appeared it ran in the family. At least, Lucius and James hadn't been at the school together; she'd never known James to back down from a fight if he felt his honour were at stake.