Aspire

Aspire.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably on a small wooden stool as the wrinkled sorting hat was dropped gently onto his head.

Mm, Harry James Potter, haven’t seen a young person’s head as clear as yours in a while, very refreshing to see pure innocence and basic morals in a child.

Now, you would easily flourish in Ravenclaw, no doubt about that. It will challenge you and you would grow up thinking logically and it would very much help you in your future.

Or Hufflepuff, a house that suits the kindness and forgiveness that you hold dearly to you. You would make so many worthwhile friends there and live your childhood out in laughter and hugs.

Unless, friends are not what you seek, but rather connections? I can see ambition to make a name for yourself, to engage in politics to help others. Slytherin would lead you to greatness-

Or Gryffindor, the house of courage and bravery. Two values that you show in every circumstance.

But how rude of me, to not take your opinions into account, young Harry Potter, which house would you prefer?

“Umm, I want to find friends, I want to find a meaning to life, and make the world better!” Harry thought hardly, closing his eyes as he pushed that thought to the front of his brain.

Mmm, in that case, “BETTER BE, GRYFFINDOR!!” The sorting hat yelled, blinding light flashed into Harry’s face as the hat was lifted off his head and he was waved off towards the clapping table.

“Screw me backwards, your Harry Potter!” A tall, lanky ginger haired boy loudly asked.

“Um, yeah, I am,” Harry answered back, getting the fright of his life when the ginger boy’s neighbor turned to look at Harry too.

“Screw me backwards, I’m Gred, and that's my twin Forge!” The second boy said, drawing Harry’s attention to the other twin.

“Ignore those two, they are pulling your leg. That's George, and that one with the mole on his neck is Fred, you will learn who is who over time,” Another ginger haired boy told Harry in a slightly exasperated tone.

“God Perce, you're no fun!” George? Said, whacking his arm. “Percy Ignatius Weasley, prefect.” Percy said, pulling his hand out for Harry to shake.

“Fred and George are unfortunately my siblings. My youngest brother, Ron, is in your year,” Percy said in a matter-of-a-fact way while Fred and George scoffed.

“I can introduce you to little baby Ronnie later.” Fred? Whispered over to Harry.

Harry was so overwhelmed. He had just met these three, yet he felt like he knew basically their whole lives. No one had ever put this much time into talking to Harry. It was weird how the twins started a conversation.

How they all seemed genuine.

Fred and George are obviously pranksters, and Harry no doubt needs to watch out for them both, especially being in their house. Harry listened intently as the Headmaster stood up to give a short speech.

“Who- who is that?” Harry whispered to Fred.

“That, my dear Harrikins, is our good ol’ chap, Prof. Dumbly.” Fred responded, straight faced, nothing about him let Harry know it was a joke.

“Fredrick.” Percy warned, “That is Professor Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of all time. He is very respected. He used to teach transfiguration when he was a deputy to the previous Headmaster, Professor Dippet, although he retired in-” Percy was interrupted.

“Oh shush, Ickle Harrikins as well as us don’t care about a history lecture about Hogwarts, let's eat!” George muttered, piling a giant scoop of mash potatoes onto Harry’s plate. Harry flashed George a shy yet grateful smile.

George winked before putting some potatoes onto his own plate.

“Blimey, you aren’t Harry Potter, are you?” A dirty blonde boy called out, a few seats down from Harry. He was tall like the twins, yet sturdy compared to how they are lanky. He had obvious muscle and a coy smirk on his slightly rounded face.

“My name is Mclaggen, but you can call me Cormac,” The boy said, spit flying out of his open mouth.

“Mclaggen, you're in your fourth year! Leave the poor little first year alone!” A girl with long black hair said loudly, scowling at Cormac.

“Leave off and mind your own business Alicia!” Cormac loudly yelled back. Alicia frowned before flinging a pea off her plate at Cormac.

“You-!” Mclaggen screeched, pulling the fingers at Alicia before huffing and going back to his plate of food.

“That’s Mclaggen, the biggest idiot in Gryffindor, the only good thing about him is that he can play quidditch well. Me and Fred are beaters in the Gryffindor team, we are quite good if I say so myself-” George was cut off.

“Well, obviously I am better, but you're not too shabby yourself, George.” Fred said, snickering at George’s annoyed expression.

Harry went back to picking at his food as the twins started bantering playfully with each other. Harry stood up with the other first years, and followed them out of the great hall and up a few flights of stairs. Staying close to a bushy haired brunette girl, Harry gaped at the interior around him.

“That painting was gifted to Hogwarts in 1468 by Freya Zabini,” The bushy haired girl said to Harry who was staring at an ugly portrait of a lady. “I’m Hermione Granger, it's nice to meet you…” The taller girl said, indicating for Harry to introduce himself.

“Oh, I’m Harry!” He said, smiling widely as Hermione grinned.

Hermione opened her mouth, no doubt to talk more about the painting but was cut off when Percy started talking about passwords and the Gryffindor common room. It would only be late at night, when Harry would be out of his two sizes to large itchy robes and into a pair of baggy shorts and a flimsy shirt from Dudley that he realized how weird it was that the portraits' eyes seemed to follow him.

Maybe he is just overthinking.

He tends to do that a lot. Because it easily just could be something normal for a magical castle such as Hogwarts to have or do. Have paintings that seem to fixate on you and you alone. Harry shrugged as he rolled over and tucked himself tighter into his bed.

He is overthinking it.

It’s been a very long day and all he really wants right now is to relax and enjoy his sleep in a proper bed. He still needs to get used to sleeping somewhere that is open, comfy, cozy, and not covered in spider webs and in the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry huffed as he closed his eyes. He felt his limbs tense under the thick woolen covers.

Hmm.

He could get used to this.

Harry sat on top of his bed, staring at his duvet.

He had been awake for the last 2 hours, and was just waiting for someone else to wake up. Of course, if Harry had ever been to a sleepover in his life he would have compared this moment to that, but sadly, Harry had never been to a friend's house, or anyone's house before. It was his first time sleeping anywhere but his cupboard. Unless of course you count the many times Dudley locked the front door at night when Harry was gardening and Harry had to sleep in the freezing cold under a bush.

But still, Harry sat on his bed, picking at his fingernail. Giving a rough guess, Harry would assume it was around 6am. Being so used to getting up early to cook breakfast and get a headstart on the countless number of chores, Harry would normally get up at around 4am. Of course, he had always led himself to believe it was a good habit.

Now, he realized, after a solid half an hour of singing Christmas tunes he had heard once in primary school, it was a rather annoying habit to have. Huffing slightly, Harry crawled quietly off his bed and waddled into the empty common room. He looked around for a second before running and diving onto the couch. Pulling a bright red cushion into his lap, Harry allowed himself to close his eyes. Just for a second-

“Harrikins!” An annoyingly cheerful voice woke him up.

Blinking away his tiredness, Harry found himself staring up at one of the twins.

“George?” He muttered. “Good guess, but nope, it's Fred,” Fred responded dryly, smiling at Harry.

“Anyways, come on, Georgie is already at breakfast! We need to get your timetable for your first day! And our’s too. Pray to the gods that you don’t have Snapey-poo first! He’s a real delight!” Fred muttered, half dragging Harry from the couch.

Walking into the great hall, Harry felt all eyes on him. He heard some whispers of his name before Harry completely blocked them out. Well, until a platinum blonde boy walked confidently over.

“Potter? Harry Potter, I presume? My name is Malfoy, Draco Lucius Malfoy, you have, no doubt, heard of me so-” The blonde was cut off by Fred.

“Malfoy? Your father is a real prick you know,” Fred said, grinning as Draco’s face turned slightly pink.

“Wasn’t talking to you! Red hair? Hand me down robes? Must be a Weasley!” Draco scowled. “Potter, come sit with me, you must know some families, are more respectable than others,”

“Um, I am terribly sorry Draco, but, uh, I have to get my timetable, why don’t we catch up later?” Harry said dismissively, dragging a very angry Fred away.

“But- Wait! Potter- You called me Draco! Potter- Harry!?” The blonde called out after Harry, but he kept walking, ignoring the blushing blonde.

“What an ego-centric prick!” Fred swore, punching the air.

“Wow, Freddie, those are big words, do you know what they mean?” Harry responded, getting a slight smile out of Fred. Harry practically pushed Fred into the Gryffindor table for him to sit next to George.

“I heard that absolute asshole- Bloody blondes, am I right?” George muttered into Harry’s ear, as Fred pulled Harry into the middle of them. Harry felt a bit like he was in a sandwich with how the twins sat at his sides.

“Hey!” Spinnet yelled from opposite Harry, A beautiful girl, with long golden hair and brown eyes, covered by her long well groomed lashes.

“What did I hear about blondes?!”

“Don’t worry your dumb little blonde head about it, Spinnet,” Fred replied, grinning at her scowles.

“Better watch your back you two, I will hex you!” Spinnet jokingly muttered, picking at a burnt piece of toast.

“As if you blondes know which way to hold a wand!” Fred snickered, watching as George’s skin turned blue from Spinnet’s jinx.

“Ms Spinnet, there is to be no magic in corridors or in the great hall, you know the rules,” an old tall lady snapped at Spinnet.

Harry spun around quickly to look at her, he would have swore she was not there a second ago. She wore her graying hair in a bun, mostly covered by her large hat. She was dressed in fancy yet basic dress robes and was handing out timetables to the younger years.

“Mr Potter, potions first with Slytherin. I do hope you enjoy being in Gryffindor,” She said, handing Harry a slip of paper with his class times on it. George’s skin slowly faded back to normal as the lady spun away to hand out more timetables.

“That’s the resident cat lady, she's crazy and teaches nothing here, legend has it, she turned up one day and never left. Apparently she-” George was cut off.

“Mr Weasley, you best be leaving the great hall to get to class, before I hex you myself!” The lady appeared again out of nowhere, giving George the fright of his life.

“That was Professor McGonagall, she teaches transfiguration,” Spinnet told Harry as she inspected Harry’s timetable.

“Basic timetable, bad luck for potions first, but you should be able to find your way to all your classes. Have a good first day, Potter!” She called out as she handed the paper back to Harry and stood up to leave.

Okay, Harry thought to himself. 

One step at a time. 

And right now?

He needs to survive potions.