FicWad

-I-I-I-

Still Friday, September 1, 1991

-I-I-I-

Kaze slipped the robe over his head, and its dark fabric fell to just brush the floor at his feet. The Luggage gave him an approving flip of its lid as he ran a hand through his hair, straightening the displaced strands.

A knock on the door announced Neville's return from the lavatory. The boy slid open the door and took a step inside, only to freeze as the magical trunk crouched and hissed at his entry.

Kaze tapped on the lid. "Stop that. He's a friend."

Neville watched with disbelief as the trunk actually whimpered and settled to the floor. He licked his lips, having to try a couple of times to get the words out. "Um, Kaze? Your trunk has legs..."

"Yes, it does. Clothes, please." The other boy folded his muggle clothes and placed them inside the Luggage, glad he'd thought to change into his normal clothing beneath the robe. He already felt much more comfortable. "Why? Is it really that strange?"

"Well, I've certainly never seen one like it." Neville sank down onto his seat. "Does it just work by voice command or can it really understand you?"

Kaze shook his head. "Oh, the Luggage is quite intelligent. The tree it was made from was sentient, after all. But I wouldn't recommend getting too close to it."

Neville could safely say the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "What kind of tree was it?" he asked. He'd always had an interest in Herbology, though admittedly more in the direction of shrubs than trees.

The dark-haired boy settled into the seat across from him, curling his legs beneath him. Neville couldn't help but notice how much more at ease he seemed than when they'd first met that morning. "It's a tree called sapient pearwood-"

He was cut of by the sudden choking noise the wizard made. "You've heard of it, then?" he inquired, tilting his head to the side.

The pureblood stared at him with wide eyes. "Merlin, yes!" To his surprise, it was Kaze's turn to choke, and Neville made a mental note to ask him about that later. "It's the rarest wood in the world! Only grows in places with a lot of magic. Where the devil did you find it?"

Kaze shrugged, looking bemused and oddly distracted. "There's a grove at home."

Neville's jaw dropped, but before he could pursue the question further, they felt the train lurch and begin to slow. Caught by surprise, Kaze tumbled forward off the seat with a cry, and the wizard automatically reached out to catch his new friend. The Luggage moved at the same time, scuttling underneath the falling boy, and together they managed to keep him from landing on the floor.

Kaze blushed as they pushed him upright. "Thank you," he murmured, catching his balance with a hand against the door. "I wasn't expecting that."

Neville just nodded. "I guess that means we're here..." He tried not to show how nervous he was on his face, but he had a feeling his friend had seen anyway. "Um... shall we, then?"

The dark-haired boy gave him a once-again timid smile. "Yeah..." He glanced down at the trunk by his feet. "What about-?"

"The house-elves take your things to your dorm after you've been Sorted," Neville automatically told him, remembering what he'd read from /Hogwarts: A History/. "We're supposed to just leave them on the train for now."

"Oh. Alright..." Kaze knelt and murmured a few words to the Luggage, which quivered in response and then settled itself onto the floor. "Now we can go."

-I-I-I-

Draco stepped from the train, followed closely by Pansy and Blaise. The last few wisps of sunlight blazed on the horizon as the students disembarked in a sea of black robes.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over 'ere!" he heard a deep, accented voice bellow, and the blonde looked to the side to see the largest man he had ever seen in his life standing by the edge of the platform.

"Well, he's most certainly not human," Pansy drawled, and Draco had to agree.

Reluctantly, the three purebloods moved towards the enormous man, doing their best not to be trampled by the press of older students. Draco bumped into a fellow first year when they were almost there, and the Malfoy training reared its head as he turned to yell at the other person.

"My apologies," the strange boy said he'd met earlier said, his green eyes calm. "I'm afraid I'm not used to crowds."

The impending harangue died stillborn, and Draco finally nodded, glancing away as the giant bellowed again. "C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

He led the group of children down a steep, narrow path, calling back encouragement as some of them slipped in the growing dark. More than once Draco nearly had to grab onto Blaise's shoulder to keep his balance. Thankfully, it wasn't long before they all came to the shore of a large, black-watered lake.

As one they gasped at the sight that met them there. On the other side of the lake rose a crag-sided mountain, just high enough that the last few rays of sun still painted it in magical hues. Perched at its apex was a vast, many-turreted castle.

"Hogwarts," Draco breathed in spite of himself.

"Beautiful," the strange boy agreed with a murmur. When the pureblood glanced at him from the corner of his eye, he was surprised to see appreciation in his features, but none of the awe that blanketed the faces of their fellow first years.

"It's nothing like the pictures," said the boy on the other side of the stranger, though he didn't seem very disappointed in the fact. His face, round and earnest, seemed familiar, and Draco wracked his brains until they came up with the memory of a society party, years ago. This was Neville Longbottom, who would be heir of that old and august family once he came of age.

Draco couldn't help his feeling of vague discontent at the thought of such a lineage falling so low, though admittedly he wasn't trying very hard to suppress it.

"No more'n four to a boat!" their guide called out, gesturing to a line of tiny skiffs pulled up on the shore. Draco soon found himself sharing a boat with Blaise, Longbottom, and the nameless green-eyed boy.

None of them spoke as they journeyed across the lake. At one point the strange first year shot a curious look into the lake and bent over the side of the boat, trailing his fingers in the water. Draco thought he heard the boy hum something, but later he decided he'd only imagined the quiet tune.

Just as he'd imagined the flash of pale tentacle in the water just afterwards, only inches from the boy's fingers.

"Heads down!" the giant yelled as they reached the cliff, and each of the children ducked their heads so the little fleet could pass beneath a lush curtain of trailing ivy. A dark tunnel lay waiting behind the curtain, and they traveled along it until they reached what seemed like a natural harbor.

Draco climbed out of the skiff as soon as it reached the pebbly beach. He shivered in the damp air of the cavern as he waited for them others to join him. Together, the first years clambered up a narrow passageway, lighted by the giant's lantern, until they emerged into the shadow of Hogwarts herself. Next came an enormous oak door, waiting at the top of a short flight of stone steps. The lone adult raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times.

The door swung ponderously open, revealing a tall, dark-haired witch dressed in robes as green as the nameless boy's eyes. Her strict gaze swept imperiously over the children, as though searching for something among them; whatever it was, she apparently didn't find it, because her lips tightened and worry gathered in her eyes.

The giant nodded respectfully. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." The witch pulled the door further open, and at her nod the first years filed in. The high-ceilinged hall beyond was lit by torches that burned with an unnaturally steady flame as they walked by. Voices echoed in that empty space, and Draco realized the rest of the students were already there.

Professor McGonagall led them to a small, out-of-the-way chamber attached to the hall. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice ringing in the relatively tiny room. "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."

Many of the first years were already looking intimidated as she continued. "The fours 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 honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

McGonagall paused and looked them over again, but again the object of her search eluded her and she went on. "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." Draco had to suppress a snicker as he realized her eyes were lingering on Longbottom's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear.

The green-eyed boy reached over and adjusted the hang of his friend's cloak until it hung straight. Longbottom gave him a smile in thanks, and Draco heard a gasp. He looked back at McGonagall to see her staring at the slight first year in... was that relief?

He almost missed it. Within moments the professor had composed herself. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly," she instructed, before sweeping out of the chamber.

Draco drifted deliberately away from the group, leaning against the wall as his mind turned over the events of the last few minutes. It was his mystery McGonagall had been searching for, that much was obvious. When he glanced at his friends they nodded; they'd seen it as well, but had no more of an idea what it meant than he did.

The blonde was so lost in thought he hardly noticed the arrival of Hogwarts' ghosts, but McGonagall's return snapped him out of it. "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." She ushered them out of the room and into a single-file line. "Now, follow me."

Through a pair of double doors was the Great Hall. It was almost cathedral-like in its proportions, and Draco had to crane his neck to see the ceiling, enchanted to reflect the night sky above. He could hear a female first year lecturing about it, but he didn't pay her any mind. Something so beautiful needed no explanation.

Five tables occupied the hall, four sitting parallel to each other, and a fifth set perpendicular on a raised dais. Thousands of floating candles spotlighted the faces turned towards them of the older students, and an unwelcome nervousness fluttered in the pureblood's gut. The first years gathered in between the two middle tables, in front of a ratty old hat perched on a stool.

Draco suppressed a twitch of surprise as the hat's brim suddenly opened wide and it began to sing. Father hadn't warned him about this!

Oh you may not think me pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

The hall burst into applause, and Draco smirked. He knew where he was going. No Malfoy had been in any house but Slytherin in centuries. No one who remained a Malfoy, anyway.

"Do you think they'll use your right name?" the pureblood heard Longbottom ask the green-eyed boy, and his ears perked up.

"I don't know," the boy replied, his voice soft as McGonagall stepped forward and called the first name off the list. "It doesn't seem likely, does it?"

Right name? That implied there was a wrong name, and that that name was what he would be known by.

"Jones, Megan!" Draco's mystery tensed, but the next named called was "Li, Su!", and then "Longbottom, Neville!" Longbottom gave his disappointed friend an apologetic look, then went on up to be sorted into Gryffindor.

The students at the Gryffindor table applauded, as did some of the teachers, and for the first time Draco noticed the way a few of the teachers were staring at the strange young wizard. Even the bright blue eyes of the elderly wizard at the center of the table, who could only be Albus Dumbledore himself, were fixed on him.

The blonde almost didn't react in time to prevent a loss of face as his own name was called. He sauntered up to the stool, and gingerly picked up the hat, reluctantly lowering it to his head.

"Slytherin!" it called out before it had done more than touch his gelled hair, and Draco set it back down as a smirk spread across his face. The Slytherin table clapped as he sat down, and he turned to watch the rest of his year's Sorting.

A couple more children were sorted into Slytherin, and he clapped politely for each of them, but his eyes were fixed on the slender figure waiting patiently to be called. Pansy sat down next to him; then a pair of twins were called, and a "Perks, Sally-Anne!"

Then, McGonagall paused, and Draco saw her study the mysterious boy carefully for a long moment.

"Potter, Harry!"

Draco felt his face go slack with astonishment as his pet mystery, now revealed to be a boy who had been missing for six years, stepped forward to take the Sorting Hat in hand.