the gifted || marauders era

four

 "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

Lyra's chest warmed at the sight, in her previous life, the gamekeeper had been sent into Azkaban, and she hasn't seen him for years, so now seeing him still right there, all bright and happy greeting the first years, she was content.

"C'mon, follow me -- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that she knew there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, they were too busy admiring the place.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here." There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Lyra moved first, then joined by Lily, Snape, and a small girl, Dorcas Meadowes. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then -- FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Lyra beamed at the very familiar woman. She hadn't seen Professor McGonagall in years either, the last she saw of her was the last Order meeting she attended, right before she joined the Golden Trio on the run.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was filled with warmth the girl missed. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor.

"Gosh, I missed this place." Lyra mumbled quietly, staring at the place with such a warm emotion, that even McGonagall noticed.

Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "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.
　　

"The four 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 rulebreaking 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."