September 1971
Like most things in life, the train came to an end.
Children, teens and even some professors rushed out. James reached for Pete’s hand and held on tightly as crowds of students bombarded their personal space. Together, they navigated as best as they could.
They reached a clearing, and beach of sorts. But the rocky bit of a beach, where there was a dock, and past the dock was a mist. A purple, lilac, mist that sparkled like diamonds under a microscope. James felt soothed by the mist, and if he squinted hard enough, he could make out shapes that were the school.
A man of considerable size came into view.
He began talking, but James didn’t understand anything. He didn’t pronounce half the vowels, nor did he have an accent you could understand. It was all mostly grunts and huffs, but James tried to listen anyway.
And just as the man had started, he stopped.
He turned and almost on cue, hundreds of wooden boats with self-propelling oars came through the mist.
James saw other students huddling into groups and getting into the boats. He quickly looked around for Sirius, finding him arguing with an older student. He waited until Sirius saw him from afar and waved him over. Sirius ran off, mid-conversation and started walking towards James.
James looked around for Remus, calling out his name when he saw him awkwardly maneuvering through a group of boys. He seemed to be in a heated match with them, similar to Sirius. Once they all came together, they headed towards an empty boat. One by one, they settled into the boat, and just as Remus was about to ask how it’d move again, it started rowing itself.
“Know what houses you want to get in?” James asked. “Gryffindor, I hope” Pete mumbled, Sirius replied the same. “But I don’t think I’ll get in” sighed Sirius. His family had been in Slytherin for as long as they had first attended Hogwarts. Peter’s family was mostly Slytherins and the occasional Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Remus didn’t respond to the question, and when he shook his head when James asked if he knew the houses, James began to ramble, much to the chagrin of Sirius and Peter who’d heard those words all their lives.
When James asked Remus again, which house he wanted to get, Remus told him it didn’t matter.
Those words were like an punch.
Essentially, your house defined your life. It defined your friends, your family, your career, your morality. Everything depended on a rugged old hat.
But Remus didn’t understand that. Or maybe he did, and it didn’t matter to him the way it mattered to James. Everyone was entitled to their opinions James thought.
As they crossed through the mist, the dark shapes from before became clearer and clearer, until a castle came into view. And was it magnificent.
It was a large building, with dark-grey bricks that had overgrown ivy all over. There were many turrets, many tall additions, and the roof was pitch black. There were big wooden doors that adorned the building. One tower was too tall; it covered a part of the moon in the sky.
As they got closer to the shore, the vibrations of magic got stronger, magnetic almost.
James felt his own magic harmonize, itching to be let out, cultivated.
And it wasn’t just James. Pete felt his magic too, except his was smaller, more dim. Sirius’s, however, was almost uncontrollable. Every vein, blood artery, muscle was aching with magic, and it was painful how he had to resist. Remus struggled, he felt sparks opening within and it was foreign to him. It coursed through him, rushing to his head.
All students, no matter how old or young, felt the magic that was Hogwarts.
The shore came soon, and James hopped off the boat, filled with glee. He helped Peter and Sirius out, but Remus swatted James’s hand away. It was hard for that to not go to his heart.
All the first years were practically running to get inside, to get a look at their new home. The four boys were the most excited of them all, taking in everything. They were ushered away into a hall before they could do anything, however.
But the hall was enough to satiate their curiosity.
Not only were there floating candles, and four long tabled filled with a feast of their dreams, the ceiling was gone. There was just the night sky and the stars. James felt breathless as he stared into constellations, he saw in books his Ma made him read.
A professor, one with a stern face and who had aged considerably, stood next to a stool, all the way in the front. She held the famous hat; the one James had dreamt of so many times in his life. This was the hat he’d told Remus about, and he hoped he had done it justice.
An old man, with an beard that covered his chest the color of ivory and half-moon spectacles stood against an podium.
“Welcome, new and old students, staff and friends! I present to you, an new year at Hogwarts. For some, this will be your first time apart from your families. For others, this will be meeting family. But, before I give my speech, I ask for the first years to be sorted by the Great Sorting Hat. For those unaware, there are four houses…”
James’s anticipation grew as he heard the man speak. The man had only revealed he was the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, at the end.
The first boy to be called was Simon Arnold. He walked, trembling slightly and sat on the stool, taking deep breaths. The hat covered half his face when it was put on but no one cared. They all wanted to know where he would go.
Seconds past and then came a scream.
“Hufflepuff!”
There was clapping immediately right after, and someone even whistled. Slytherin’s table looked unimpressed, while Ravenclaw paid no mind.
More kids went by, but soon, it was Sirius’s turn.
He looked at James, with such a look James thought of offering to walk with him. But when Sirius started walking, his usual charming and cocky bravado in place, James knew he didn’t need him.
There was calling from Slytherin’s table, especially from an older student – the same one he’d been arguing with before the boat ride.
When the hat been placed on his head, Sirius went still. This time, minutes passed instead. First, one. Then two. Then three.
The hat was about to speak, the vowel “sss” coming out. Then it stopped.
“Gryffindor!”