Pride

"Hurry up, hurry up!"

Molly was in top mothering form as she hustled her children—and recently acquired child Harry—out of the house and into his dad's car, the Ford Anglia he secretly worked on in the garage specifically built to hide the Ford Anglia.

"How's it all going to fit?" Harry asked, looking at the six trunks stacked next to the car. Scabbers was already in his cage, and Hedwig stared at him from within hers.

"The space inside is bigger than outside," Ron explained, helping heave a trunk into the boot. Harry picked up the other end, and, once the trunks were all loaded, climbed up on the boot lid and helped cram it all down. 

“The rest of the car is the same,” Ron said as they got in. Percy’s new screech owl, Hermes, whistled at being jostled. Hedwig turned her head away, too dignified to complain. 

The Ford Anglia had been modified in a number of ways. While Ron’s dad, being watched by his mum, didn’t pull out all the stops, the car did make record time, easing through spaces most other cars couldn’t and hitting all green traffic lights. 

At the station they tumbled out of the car, collected they’re trolleys, and headed for the dividing barrier that led to Platform 9 ¾. 

“It’s a quarter till,” his mum said, walking quickly and dragging Ginny by the hand. “Look how crowded it is! Packed with muggles, of course!”

“Mum, can’t I go?” Ginny asked. 

“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. Alright, Percy, you go first.”

“I don’t see a Platform 9 ¾,” Harry said, looking around. 

“Just watch Percy,” Ron replied, but a crowd of tourists blocked them. “It’s an illusion. The entrance is hidden in a pillar.”

“Fred, you next,” their mum said.

“I’m not Fred, I’m George,” Fred said. “Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Sorry, George, dear.”

“Only joking, I am Fred!”

Ron rolled his eyes. “They’d stop doing that if it stopped working,” he said to Harry.

“It’s not hard to tell them apart,” Harry said. “They’re different people.”

“You next, Harry,” Ron’s mum said. “Best to take it at a bit of a run.”

“We’ll go together,” Ron said, smiling at Harry. “Ready?”

They ran for the barrier, straight onto Platform 9 ¾ where the scarlet steam engine, the Hogwarts Express, billowed smoke across the trolleys, owls, cats, rats, a croaking toad, and parting families. 

Students hung out of the windows of full compartments, talking to friends and waving goodbye. Ron led Harry down the platform, looking for open seats, his brothers already on the train. 

“Gran, I told you, I’ve got everything,” a round-faced boy said. "Trevor's right here!"

“Are you sure, Neville?” an older woman asked, looking at him sternly.

Ron turned to look.

“Did she say Neville?”

“Neville Longbottom?”

“Did you see him?”

Frowning, Ron pushed his trolley on, passing a boy with short dreadlocks showing off his tarantula. Ron grimaced when the tarantula stuck a leg out. 

“There’s an empty one,” Harry said, pointing to the end of the train. Fred and George reappeared to help get their trunks in. 

“Did you see him?” Fred asked.

“Who?” Ron asked. 

“Neville Longbottom,” George said. “We forgot he was starting this year.”

“Who?” Harry asked.

Fred and George looked at each other. “Only the bloody Boy-Who-Lived,” Fred replied. 

“Oh,” Harry said, with a confused frown. “He’s the one who killed Voldemort?”

The twins jumped. 

“Blimey, Harry,” George said. 

“Warn a man,” Fred said.

“Most people don’t say his name,” Ron told Harry. “It’s bad luck.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t know, I don’t want to live in fear…”

“You can call him whatever you want,” Ron decided. “Let’s say bye to mum.”

After Ron has the smudge on his nose attacked, and Percy talked about being a prefect for only the millionth time, and they discussed the phenomenon of seeing the Boy-Who-Lived—Ron thought it was a stupid name, he wasn’t the only boy who ever lived—the train finally began to move. Ginny chased them, waving, laughing, crying a little. For the past two years it had been just Ron and Ginny at home all year. Now it was Ginny all alone, but she could still visit. 

“You’ve still got a bit on your nose,” Harry said, leaning forward and using his sleeve to wipe it away. 

Ron blushed, hating how easily it happened. “Thanks.”

The twins showed up again.

"You two settled in?" George asked.

"We’re going down the middle of the train," Fred said.

"Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there," George finished.

"We might spot Neville Longbottom," Fred continued.

"Think he'll show us his scar?"

"Think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"Don't do any of that!" Ron said. "How do you think he feels, being stared at all the time?"

"Or remembering his parents dying," Harry quietly added.

The twins looked at each other.

"You're right," Fred said, glancing at Harry.

"We weren't thinking," George said apologetically.

"Sorry," they said together.

Ron shrugged.

"It's okay," Harry said. "Maybe we can see the tarantula later?"

"Ron doesn’t like spiders," George said.

"We turned his teddy bear into one when he was three," Fred said. "Nearly wet himself."

"He did wet himself."

Ron glared at them, blushing furiously. "Spiders aren't so bad. It's just all those legs…"

"They do have a lot of legs," Harry said, smiling faintly. "I used to play with spiders, when—never mind."

The twins looked at each other again. "We'll check on you two later," Fred said. "Percy's up with the other prefects."

"Mum said to keep an eye on you two," George said. "See you later!"

"Bye," Ron and Harry said. The compartment door slid shut and they were alone again.

"There wasn't much to do," Harry said. "When they locked me in the cupboard."

Ron hesitated, then asked, "Did you ever name the spiders? What kinds were they?"

They talked for a while. The train left London and passed through fields with grazing sheep and cattle. Ron pulled out an old pack of Exploding Snap cards and they played a few rounds, Harry quickly picking up the game, along with some minor burns.

The trolley lady came by, and while they both had lunches packed by Ron’s mum, between the two of them they bought some of everything.

They had fun going through all the different sweets, forgetting about the corned beef sandwiches. They dueled with Licorice Wands and bit into gooey Cauldron Cakes. Chocolate Frogs leapt out of their packs.

"Who've you got?" Ron asked, leaning over to look at the card.

"Dumbledore," Harry said, frowning. "There's something about him…"

Ron frowned too. "I know. Something about his eyes?"

Harry nodded, setting the card face down. "Let's see who else we've got. You said you need Ptolemy?"

Testing out Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor Beans got them out of the fields and into a dark, twisting forest.

"Are we still in England?" Harry asked, nibbling on a weird gray jelly bean while looking out of the window.

"Hogwarts is in Scotland," Ron said, spitting out a liver flavored one.

"This doesn't look like Scotland either…"

"There are a lot of magical places hidden from muggles," Ron said, "Like—"

There was a knock on the compartment door, and it slid open. It was the boy they had passed on the platform, Neville Longbottom. He had blond hair and icy blue eyes. 

"Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?" he asked.

Ron resisted looking at the scar on his forehead. "We haven't, sorry."

"I'm sure he'll turn up," Harry said gently.

A look of irritation crossed Neville's face. "Keep an eye out, will you?"

"Sure," Ron said.

"Have you asked the prefects?" Harry said. "They're at the front of the train."

"I've just been there," Neville muttered. "Thanks for the suggestion, though."

Neville closed the door.

"Strange," Ron said.

"I thought he'd be nicer," Harry said.

"He did grow up famous," Ron pointed out.

"Maybe it was his gran," Harry said. "Whatever. What flavor do you think this one is?"

A few dubious beans later, Ron decided to try a spell the twins had told him about. He had a feeling it was fake since it was a couplet, but it couldn't hurt to try.

The compartment door opened again without warning. Neville had returned with a girl. She had dark skin, hair someone had brushed too much, making it frizz, and teeth she hadn't yet grown into.

Ron and Harry both looked curiously at her. Something about her made Ron feel bad.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one," she said in a bossy tone.

"He's already checked here," Harry said, glancing at Ron. "You should ask the prefects for help."

The girl ignored him, focusing on the wand in Ron's hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" the girl asked. "Let’s see it, then."

"I was just showing Harry my wand," Ron said. "It's willow."

"Is it?" the girl said. "Mine's vine and dragon heartstring! I've tried a few spells with it already. I read that the druids used vine wood in their wands, in Famous Wands Throughout History. I got a few extra books for background reading. I've read all about Neville already."

"That's interesting," Harry said politely.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she said, having not yet run out of breath.

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

They looked at Neville, who shrugged and said, "Neville Longbottom."

"‘Do any of you know which house you’ll be in?" Hermione asked. "I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad ... Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon."

She left, Neville following in her wake.

Ron and Harry looked at each other and started laughing.

"She should be in Ravenclaw," Ron said. "She'd have other people to challenge her."

"Have you thought about which house you'll be in?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "I'll be in whichever house you're in."

"Really?" Harry said hopefully. "I'd like that…"

"Really," Ron said. "I'll make sure of it."

"I wonder which house my parents were in?" Harry said. "I bet it was Gryffindor."

"Everyone in my family's been in Gryffindor," Ron said. "There's a lot to live up to, having so many older brothers. I want to be my own person. I think your parents would be happy no matter how you got sorted. I think mine would be too."

Harry smiled at him. "So we have to put a hat on?"

Some time later the compartment door slid open yet again, and three boys stepped in. Ron recognized the leader as Draco Malfoy.

"Is it true?’ he asked. ‘They’re saying all down the train that Neville Longbottom’s in this compartment."

"He was here a while ago, looking for his toad," Harry said.

"You just missed him," Ron added.

"Oh," the boy said, looking put out. He and the other two left without another word.

"Could've at least closed the door behind them," Harry said, getting up to do so. “We should get changed, yeah?”

Ron and Harry got their robes on, and wondered what to do with all the wrappers from their sweets binge. 

“Is there a way to make it disappear?” Harry asked, holding his wand. 

“There’s a vanishing spell,” Ron said. “I’ve seen mum use it before. They must have someone clean it all up, or maybe the train does it on its own.”

The compartment door opened again. Ron sighed. It was Hermione, looking scandalized. 

“What has been going on?” she demanded. “People are behaving rather childishly, racing up and down the corridors. You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there.”

“Right, thanks,” Harry said, shaking his head as she shut the door and went off again. 

Rob put his robes on, frowning as he noticed they were a bit short. 

Harry noticed and asked, “Think there’s a spell to make them longer?”

“There is, mum’s used it,” Ron said. “I must have got taller since I last tried them on.”

"We can send Hedwig to ask her for the spell," Harry said.

Hedwig hooted her agreement.

"Thanks!"

A voice echoed through the train, telling them they had five minutes until they reached Hogsmeade station, and to leave their luggage on board.

They disembarked together, into the cold night air. A lantern bobbed over the crowd of students.

"First-years! First-years over here! All right there, Harry?"

They followed Hagrid down a narrow, slippery path that let out onto the shore of a vast lake with dark waters. Across the lake, towering above them on a cliff, was Hogwarts.

"Wow," Harry said, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at the castle.

"Yeah," Ron said, smiling at him.

They clambered into small boats. Ron and Harry were joined by Hermione and Neville, after some jostling over who got to sit with the Boy-Who-Lived. Draco glared at them from his boat.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid asked. "Forward!"

The fleet of little boats launched, carrying them towards the cliff. They ducked under a curtain of ivy, which hid a tunnel into the cliff itself. This dark tunnel led to a small underground harbor, and they left the boats, walking across gravel and through a passageway that led them up and onto a grassy lawn in the shadow of Hogwarts.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and waited in front of a huge oak door. Hagrid knocked three times, and the door opened.

A tall witch draped in emerald robes, her black hair in a severe style, stood before them.

"The first-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said cheerfully.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "I will take them from here."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, then followed the professor inside with the other first-years. The entrance hall was a match for the oak door, a cavernous space lit by wall-mounted torches, a ceiling lost to murky darkness, and a grand marble staircase leading up to the rest of the castle. Harry moved closer to Ron as they picked up the sound of hundreds of voices from another huge set of doors to the right. McGonagall led them through a smaller door and into a small chamber. She explained they were about to participate in the Sorting Ceremony, what house points were, and finished by telling them to smarten up. Harry pointed to Ron’s nose, and Ron scowled at him. 

Kids around them suddenly started screaming. Ron spun around, relaxing when he saw it was just the castle ghosts. 

“What’s the big deal?” Harry asked, smiling at the ghosts. Two were in the middle of a conversation about someone named Peeves, and were surprised to see the first-years huddled together. Professor McGonagall shooed the ghosts away, then had the first-years all line up. She took them to stand in a row facing the rest of the students. Ron fidgeted uneasily, glancing at his brothers. Fred and George were grinning crazily, while Percy looked on stoically, if expectantly.

Ron’s breathing picked up, and he felt a little faint. Harry bumped into him. 

“We’ll be in the same house, right?” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Ron whispered. “No matter what. Look up at the ceiling. It’s charmed to look like the sky outside.”

Harry tipped his head up, smiling in wonder at the starry ceiling. 

McGonagall returned with a stool, setting it before them. On this stool she placed a very old and pointed hat. To their surprise, a rip appeared near the brim and the Sorting Hat began to sing. When the song was over, the Great Hall burst into applause. 

Clapping, Harry said, “I could be in any of those.”

“I know,” Ron said. “Or all of them. People can be kind and cunning, or brave and witty.”

Harry nodded, and the applause died down. 

Professor McGonagall unraveled a long scroll of parchment. 

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A small girl with blonde pigtails stumbled to the stool. The hat sank over her eyes, then shouted, “Hufflepuff!”

The first-years went up one by one, in alphabetical order. Hermione ran up and jammed the hat on her head, and it shouted, “Gryffindor!”

Ron and Harry grimaced at each other. 

“She’s going to drive them up the wall,” Ron said. 

When Neville Longbottom was called, Ron swore he could hear a pin drop. 

“Longbottom, did she say?”

“The Neville Longbottom?”

The entire school held its breath as he sat down and placed the hat on his head. He was pale, but had a determined expression. People leaned out of their seats to watch.

“Gryffindor!”

The Great Hall exploded into cheers and applause, the loudest coming from Gryffindor’s table. Fred and George chanted, “We got Longbottom, we got Longbottom!” Ron felt it was unfortunate phrasing. 

After a girl named Morag MacDougal went to Ravenclaw, Draco was next. He needn't have put the hat on. It immediately sent him to Slytherin.

Ron and Harry grimaced again. 

"I don't think I could stand him for seven years," Ron muttered.

"Not to mention his two friends," Harry added. 

Ron watched anxiously as Harry's name drew nearer. He had no idea how Harry would be sorted. But the time was now upon them.

"Potter, Harry!"

Ron gave him an encouraging pat and Harry slowly approached the stool. Tension was written on every line of his body. It seemed stupid to make such an important decision at their age.

The hat fell over Harry's eyes, and they waited. Ron saw Harry gripping the stool, but the hat covered Harry's entire head so he couldn't see his face. A minute passed, then another.

The hat opened its hat-mouth, frowned a bit, then shouted, "Ravenclaw!"

Ron released his breath, relieved they would not have to put up with Draco Malfoy for seven years. He had also noticed one of the professors giving Harry a very ugly look, and the man looked dour enough to be a Slytherin. Maybe if things had been different…

Ron watched Harry sit next to other first-year Ravenclaws, who happily clapped for him. Harry turned to watch Ron, smiling expectantly. Ron hoped he was smart enough to get into Ravenclaw too. He noticed a young woman ghost watching Harry from where she floated near the Ravenclaw table.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Ron jumped then hurried forward, glad he didn't trip over anything on his way to the hat. He picked it up and dropped it over his head.

"Another Weasley, eh?" the Sorting Hat said in his mind. "I know just what to do with you!"

"Ravenclaw," Ron thought back.

"Gry—Ravenclaw, you say?"

"Yes, please."

"Just a moment…"

Ron heard the hat grumbling to itself. "You are clever, and I see you have ambition. Not a bad mind, no, not at all…if you insist, I suppose it must be Ravenclaw!"

Ron grinned and leapt off the stool, running off with the hat. He could hear Fred and George laughing over the applause as he carried it back.

Ron slid into a spot next to Harry. "See? I told you."

"It wanted to put me in Slytherin," Harry whispered, wrinkling his nose. "I didn't know if you'd want to be there."

"I think it would have been fine, if we were there together," Ron whispered back.

"Are you two already friends then?" a tall girl asked. "My name's Morag MacDougal."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said, smiling as they all went around introducing themselves. Mandy Brocklehurst, Sue Li, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein. They shook hands with the fifth-year prefects, Penelope Clearwater and Robbie Hilliard, and settled down.

"Welcome!"

Ron looked up at the head table, and saw the headmaster Albus Dumbledore standing.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Dingbat! Collywobble! Kerfuffle! Squeak! Thank you!"

Thankfully food filled the table, and Ron put the headmaster's nonsense out of mind. He glanced at Harry, who seemed immobilized by the amount of food. Ron switched his full plate with Harry's empty one, and started piling food on again. Harry stared at him.

"What was that for?"

Ron shrugged, and stuffed a pork chop in his mouth. After a moment, Harry started eating too.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Penelope.

Ron looked at the head table again, and saw that the man who had glared at Harry kept glancing at their table. He had lanky black hair, a prominent nose, and wore all black robes.

"That's Professor Snape," Penelope said. "He's the head of Slytherin and teaches Potions."

"He looks like he hates me already,” Harry said quietly.

“Don’t take it personally,” Penelope said with a smile. “He’s not the friendliest teacher, but he’s a brilliant Potions Master. Snape’s usually fair with us Ravenclaws.”

“Maybe he knew one of your parents?” Ron suggested, frowning. 

“Maybe,” Harry said. “But why would he hate me because of that?”

Ron shrugged. “If we do good in his class, he can’t complain.”

When all of the food was gone, Ron’s pudding vanishing as he attempted another bite, Dumbledore gave the start-of-term notices. The forest was forbidden, as was a third floor corridor on pain of death. Ron and Harry shared a look, but were soon distracted as everyone was made to sing the school song. 

Finally, once Fred and George finished their funeral dirge, they were sent off to bed. The first-years followed their prefects. Penelope and Robbie took them up to the fifth floor, then up a spiraling staircase. At the top there was a door with only a bronze knocker on it, in the shape of an eagle.

Penelope lifted the knocker and knocked once. 

The eagle’s beak opened and a musical voice asked, “What has sight without eyes?”

Penelope turned to the first-years. “What do you think?”

“The door asks a question,” Robbie explained. “To get into the tower, you must answer it.”

“Couldn’t there be more than one answer?” Morag asked.

Penelope smiled. “Precisely.”

Ron thought it over, along with the others. Harry frowned, deep in thought.

“Guns have sights on them,” Harry said uncertainly. “Why would it ask about a muggle weapon?”

 “A Seer?” Ron suggested. “They have visions, I think they call it the Sight. I don’t think it’s based on having eyes.”

“Well reasoned,” the eagle said, and the door swung open.

“Which of us got it?” Harry asked as they entered the common room. 

“Either, or both,” Robbie said. “As Morag said, there’s more than one answer to a question.”

Ron took in the Ravenclaw common room. It was a wide circular room, with a great deal of space. Tall windows lined the walls, draped in blue and bronze silks. It was night, but Ron imagined by day the view would be spectacular. They walked across a midnight blue carpet, and above them arched a domed ceiling decorated with golden stars. There were plenty of chairs and tables, and a staggering number of packed book cases. A white marble statue stood in a niche. 

Penelope directed them to their dormitories, the girls up one staircase, the boys up another. Their beds, four-posters hung with deep blue curtains, were set against windows that reached to the ceiling. The dormitory had the same light atmosphere as the common room. It was very peaceful, and Ron could see the mountains that ringed the school grounds and the nearby village of Hogsmeade, glowing under the moonlight. 

“Do you think Hedwig’s okay?” Harry asked, looking at where Scabbers’ cage had been set on Ron’s trunk.

“She’s probably in the Owlery,” Ron said, yawning. “Maybe she’ll visit you during breakfast.”

“The Owlery,” Harry said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

Ron yawned again, letting Scabbers out and looking for his pajamas. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”