A Darker Form of Magic

Harry's last month with the Dursleys passed quietly. Dudley refused to be in the same room as the younger boy, fleeing with a squeal any time that Harry so much as was even close enough for the other boy to look at with those beady eyes of his. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had each taken to pretending that Harry didn't exist at all, something that Harry didn't mind in the least bit since it meant that neither would ever question where the boy had been when he stumbled into the Dursleys' home at all hours of the night.

They didn't question the bruises blooming on the boy's skin, or the dirt in his hair or the blood on his clothes when it was there.

Harry liked it better that way.

He liked living for a month without being struck by anyone in the house, or forced to do anything, or screamed at till one of the other occupants of the house reminded the perpetrator that the neighbors would soon become nosy if they didn't stop.

It felt like something akin to the boy that had never truly known any. Like a kind of peace.

On the last day of August Harry knew that he would have to break the routine that had formed, no matter how much he had come to treasure it.

Harry walked into the kitchen early in the morning as the Dursleys had sat down to eat breakfast. Ignoring the way that his own stomach grumbled at the sight, Harry stopped in front of his uncle and spoke tentatively to the older man.

"Uncle Vernon?" The boy said just loud enough to force a response.

The man however did not look up from his paper, but Harry heard the grunt his uncle had made and took that as about Sam much acknowledgment as he was bound to receive from the vile man.

"I need you to give me a lift to King's Cross Station tomorrow so that I can go to school."

Another grunt.

Figuring that this was just about as good as he was going to get, Harrybwas about to turn when, for the first time in a month, Uncle Vernon spoke to the boy.

"Funny way getting to a wizard school, the train," the man said, ruffling his paper irritably. "Magic carpets are all torn, have they?"

Harry knew better than to rise to the older man's bait, that doing so - answering his uncle right now - would mean something dangerous for the small boy even as Aunt Petunia and the cowering Dudley were still in the room. He especially didn't want to tell the man that magic carpets were actually outlawed by the British magical government, Harry didn't want to send the older man into a tangent.

"Where is this freak school of yours anyways?" Uncle Vernon asked with an almost self righteous voice.

For the first time, Harry realized that he didn't know. He had spent the last month reading every book that he'd bought from Diagon Alley, some of the shorter ones even a few times over, but it had never occurred to him to think of just where he would be learning all of these things.

It wasn't like he hadn't had other things on his mind as well though.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked instead of truly answering the cruel man. "It's nine months without me haunting your house."

His uncle actually laughed at that, as if he had said something humorous, that cruel laugh of his that Harry had come to know spoke of more violence than humor. "Right you are, boy," the man remarked, making Harry's skin crawl uncontrollably against his bones. "All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going to London tomorrow anyway or else I wouldn't bother."

Though Harry doubted that the man would risk his chance to be rid of him for so long, the boy walked out of the door of the house before his uncle could think to change his mind.

—-

Jude was already there by the time that Harry escaped to their field, the morning sun shining down on his brown hair in a way that made it almost look red. He didn't smile as Harry stopped next to him, Harry hadn't expected him to. Smiles were things much too pretty for boys like them.

"You ready?" The older boy asked just as he had almost everyday for the past month, the excited gleam still stubbornly in those blue eyes even after one of them now had a deep bruise beneath it.

"As I'll ever be."

—-

The day after Harry had gotten back to Diagon Alley, he hadn't had very much faith that the other boy would be in the field waiting for him. It had been days since they had spoken to one another, days spent with the Dursleys trying to outrun letters. He wouldn't have been surprised if the older boy had stopped coming altogether.

But he was there and Harry was glad that he was.

They'd sat down in the familiar tall grass, their knees pressed firmly against each other as if to remind the other that they were real. Neither said anything for a long moment, Jude seemingly having left it to Harry to break the silence, and Harry having to draw up the courage to do so.

"I'm being sent away to boarding school in the fall," Harry said at last, watching the way that the older boy's eyes seemed to dull sharply at his words.

"Why?" Jude breathed, his voice too soft, too hurt for Harry's liking.

He never wanted to hear his friend like that again, so full of a loneliness that they both knew better than their own minds. He never wanted to be the cause of it either.

"My parents set up something before they died," Harry lied, knowing that the other boy wouldn't question it further if he used them as an excuse. Being orphans as they were, each boy knew that there were lines that you didn't cross, even if Harry was doing so purposefully just then. Though, it wasn't truly a lie. He knew that he wouldn't be going if it wasn't for them. "At least it's away from the Dursleys," he said, hitting the nail into the coffin that he had just built.

They watched together in silence for a long time as the clouds moved slowly across the sky above them, swirling and shifting into unknown shapes. A part of Harry felt that if he just reached far enough, that he could grasp them himself. Though Harry knew enough about science to know all of the reasons that he couldn't.

Jude sighed, a tired thing that spoke of being used to loss. It was a state that Harry didn't truly understand. You have to have something first to lose it, after all. 

"I always knew that you were meant for more than this shitty place," the blue - eyed boy says almost solemnly, his voice holding none of the gruffness has always been so fond of.

More than me, is what the younger boy heard beneath what was said by the other.

Harry shifted and placed his head on the other boy's shoulder, neither of them paying any mind to the summer day's growing heat. 

But then the other boy pulled away from Harry suddenly before staring at Harry deep in the eyes. Jude was holding the younger boy's face the same way that he did each time that he checked Harry for injuries.

"I'll teach you how to protect yourself," the older boy decided, determination setting nicely into his eyes and drowning out the grief that Harry could still see lingering there.

Harry almost wanted to scoff. There wasn't much that anyone could teach him to protect himself from magic of all things. But he could see the appeal of it still. After all, Harry would be around other eleven year olds, ones that - presumably - need a fancy stick to do magic. Learning how to fist fight would t be the worst idea that Jude had had. Not by a long shot.

"Alright."

—-

Harry ducked under the other boy's arm, narrowly avoiding the well mailed punch that Jude had sent. He rolled and landed a hit of his own while Jude was still off balance from the missed hit, sending the older boy stumbling to the ground. Moving quickly, Harry pressed the sharp stick in his hand to the opener boy's neck, his knee pressed painfully into Jude's open palm.

But Jude had a proud look on his face. So did Harry.

"Get the fuck off of me, man," the older boy said in a way that almost sounded like a laugh.

And Harry did, reaching down to the other with his bloodied knuckles on full display for all to see. Jude met the offered hand with his own, letting himself be pulled to his feet by the scrawny, but quick boy.

Harry could feel the makings of a small bruise forming on the side of his brow, coloring his face in a way that he was much too familiar with for a boy his age. But Harry found that he didn't mind it much. A part of him couldn't help but think that he wouldn't truly be himself without something imperfect marring his body.

"I won," Harry remarked proudly, his small figure aching slightly from the sparring that the pair had just done.

"You won," Jude agreed, something close to a smirk on his face. For the first time the other boy looked worse off than Harry did.

Both of the boys threw away the sticks that they had been using as a replacement for knifes, but their gazes never left one another. Not when they both knew that this would be the last time that they would see one another for almost a year. 

"Here, a going away present or whatever you want to call it." Harry watched as Jude held out his hand and Harry saw a flash of silver as he moved to meet it.

The metal was warm in his palm as Harry looked down at the knife in his hand. It was a simple switch blade, old if the nicks on it were anything to go by. He opened it and felt the comfortable weight in his palm, giving the small blade an experimental twirl.

"Where'd you get it?" Harry asked, closing the blade and slipping it away into his trouser pocket. 

Jude shrugged, his eyes hungrily taking in each of Harry's movements as if he thought that the younger boy would disappear at any moment. Harry didn't fault him for it as he knew that he was about to. "One of the older boys at the home gave it to me when the bloke aged out."

Harry nodded and wished desperately that he had something else to say, but the sky was beginning to grow dark. Night was sure to fall soon and Harry needed to be back before then. The creeps tended to come out right after the sun fell.

"Ten months," the boy said instead of anything resembling a proper goodbye.

"Ten months," Jude agreed.

—-

Harry woke up early on the morning of September first, his body thrumming with a nervous energy as he checked that everything was packed for school. As much as Harry didn't want to leave his only friend, there was just as much of him that wanted desperately to know what it would be like to be with others like him.

To be free.

Wearing his best fitting clothes, Harry drug his trunk down the stairs and to the car while the Dursleys finished their breakfast, his new knife sitting comfortably in his trouser pocket. A new but welcome weight.

The ride to King's Cross station was mostly dull after Aunt Petunia had convinced Dudley to sit in the car next to Harry, pulling out that voice of hers that she only reserved for when her son was being truly unruly. The boy still pressed himself up against the car door as much as he could to get as far away from Harry as he could manage. Which, Harry noted cheerfully, wasn't much at all as the older boy was much too plump to get more than an inch's difference at the most.

Uncle Vernon all but waved as the Dursleys pulled away from the train station, not so much as stopping to help the boy out his trunk on the trolley. Harry found that he didn't particularly mind that after he'd gotten everything situated, he wanted his uncle's paws on his stuff about as much as the man wanted Harry in his home.

Walking quickly, Harry all but ran to Platform Nine. The boy saw that as he moved through the station that none of the numbers had quarters attached to them, but each did have four pillars leading to the next number. Harry figured that if to get into Diagon Alley one had to push some bricks in a certain inane order, then it wouldn't be a stretch to find some type of passage to the platform.

They wouldn't want muggles wandering in after all.

The third pillar attached to Platform Nine looked normal enough when Harry laid his eyes upon it, but when the boy got close enough he could feel the now familiar pull of magic attached to it. When he touched his hand to the stone, Harry almost stumbled as it fell right through as if the pillar wasn't there at all. With a wolfish grin Harry pushed his cart through the column and into another platform altogether.

A deep scarlet train was the first thing that Harry saw, smoke billowing out of the top of it. The label on it read Hogwarts Express. There was a wrought iron archway where the barrier had been only a moment before, Platform Nine and Three - Quarters was carved at the top of it. Owls hooted as much as witches and wizards wished their children goodbye, and cats wound between the legs of the people gathered as if it was something natural. Harry thought that he might already love the chaos of it all, a far cry from Privet Drive.

Harry pressed through the crowd and past a small sea of red heads that he reasoned must all be related, or having some sort of convention if not given the sheer number of them. He thought about looking for an empty compartment, but stopped when he all but ran over someone's toad.

Picking the creature up, Harry held it protectively in his hands as he glanced around for anyone that looked out of place among the children milling about the train. Finally, Harry's eyes settled on a round faced boy that couldn't be much older than himself. The boy was ducking in and out of compartment doorways and through the hall with his eyes glued to the ground.

"Trevor?" The boy called out, his voice sounding panicked. A lot more so than Harry thought was needed for a toad of all things. "Trevor!"

The toad croaked in Harry's hands and the boy figured that this was confirmation enough.

"This yours?" Harry asked, thrusting the amphibian at the other boy as he passed, causing the boy to almost trip as he stopped in his tracks.

The round - faced boy turned to Harry with panicked eyes that soon turned relieved as he saw the toad. "Trevor!" The boy exclaimed, grabbing the toad from Harry's hands quickly.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Harry muttered almost bitterly.

The boy looked down at Harry with wide, thankful eyes as he smiled brightly. "Thank you," he whispered almost feverishly. "I've got a compartment just a little bit down from here," he said, pointing down the way that he had come from with his free hand. "Do you want to sit with us? It's just me and another first year."

Harry thought about saying no and finding any empty compartment that he could, having a quiet ride. But given the amount of time that he had spent waiting on the toad boy to hurry up and retrieve his strange choice of pet, Harry figured that there wouldn't be another empty cart left. At least the round - faced boy was indepteded enough to Harry to not immediately turn on the smaller boy.

Giving the other boy one last considering glance, Harry quickly figured that he could take the taller boy if it came down to it, not that he truly thought that it would from the soft look on the boy's face. "Sure," Harry agreed with more confidence than he felt and the other boy smiled.

Taking the toad into account, Harry and the other boy were able to push through the lingering crowd of students to get to the compartment where they quickly shut the door and window before  even so much as acknowledging the other student in the small room.

"You know, it's quite rude to pretend that others do not exist," the bushy haired girl sniped almost primly, placing her book to the side with a snap. "Especially when they're in the same room as you."

Harry noticed that the other boy seemed to cower under the witch's reprimand and rolled his eyes at them both. "Well, a good fucking hello to you too," the black haired boy snarled sarcastically before nodding to the other boy thst it was safe to open his hand once more.

The toad, Trevor, immediately jumped out of the boy's hands and to the door, only to find it closed. Trying the window next, the toad found that path blocked as well. Harry watched with faint amusement as the amphibian made it up onto the overhead storage bars and hid behind the luggage there. It seemed to have as much bravery as its owner did.

Harry sat down next to the other boy, leaving a good deal of space between the pair as the girl balked at him. Harry crossed his arms and stared right back into the girl's expectant brown eyes.

"I'm N-Neville Longbottom, by the way," the other boy, Neville, said shakily, obviously trying to diffuse the tension that had risen so quickly.

Harry nodded at the other boy before turning his attention back to the prim girl. She felt a lot to Harry like the girls that went to his old school, the ones that thought that they were above him because they come from money and he so clearly didn't. Though that comparison didn't set right with Harry so much. It was more like she thought that she was smarter than Harry was.

Maybe she is, Harry reasoned, but book smarts only gets you so far at the end of the day.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said a lot more reluctantly than most would when introducing oneself, seeming to have realized that he wasn't going to speak until she did. She looked rather put out about it too.

"Harry Potter."

Harry felt his body go rigid as both sets of eyes snapped to him with some sort of twisted fascination that the boy felt that he should have been expecting. Hermione started talking about all of the books that she had read with him in it, while Neville just balked at the boy sitting next to him. None of them noticed the foot slide open as a third boy stood at the mouth of the compartment.

"Are you really?" A familiar voice asked.

Harry turned quickly, his eyes landing on the boy that he'd met at the robe shop about a month ago now. Among all of the other bouts and sources of magic, Harry hadn't been able to feel the other boy's until the blond was already in the room, but he would recognize it anywhere. There was a slight look of wonder on the other boy's face, one that was decidedly different from that of the other two children. It was the sort of surprise that came from knowing something grand that others didn't and finding out that it was even better than it had been before.

"I am," Harry confirmed, looking at the other boy with a wonderful look of his own as his magic began to thrum pleasantly beneath his skin once more, begging to be known. To meet a kind like its own. "I never did catch your name before."

The boy shook his head lightly, seeming to come out of whatever trance it was that he had been in before. The bloom boy stepped deeper into the room and took the open seat by Hermione, though his eyes never left Harry, not even as the door clicked shut behind him. "I'm Draco Malfoy," the fair haired boy said poshly. "Shouldn't you know someone's name before telling them to take you to dinner?"

Harry smirked at that but then he noticed the way that the boy next to him had gone stiff at the name, but he couldn't find it in himself to particularly care about why at the moment. Not when someone like him was so close. 

He leaned forwards, bringing himself even closer to the other boy. "So, whatcha doing wandering the train, Draco?" Harry asked, ignoring the other boy's previous remark. He liked the way that the other boy's name rolled off of his tongue. He liked the constellation that was attached to it as well. You tend to learn a good deal about the stars when you spend most nights sneaking out to meet someone beneath them.

The other boy didn't trunnred by any means, but his cheeks did flush a pale pink. "Would you believe me if I said that I was looking for the rude boy from the robe shop?" He asked, the look on his face hiding none of the embarrassment that the other boy so obviously felt.

We'll have to work on that, Harry decided, surprising himself as he did so. Making a note like that implies further conversations in the future. He couldn't say that he was particularly against the idea.

"You know," Harry started, his body relaxing once more, "I think I would."

Whatever tension that had built within the compartment was broken as the trolley witch knocked sweetly on the door, but a seemingly innocent croak from within the room had three out of four of the children shaking their heads quickly at the woman while the fourth reached for his money. Draco sent to group an annoyed glare as the woman angrily rolled away, not so much as glancing back at the four children as she did.

"What was that for?" The blond asked, clearly annoyed with the other first years, if not a little more than vexed.

But Harry only held up a hand, motioning for the boy to wait and hold his anger. The scarred boy stood up from his seat and walked across the small compartment to the door, opening it. He didn't get much more than the handle moved downwards before an all too familiar toad leapt down from the overhead, aiming for the ground. 

Moving nimbly, Harry caught the creature before it could land and handed it to its owner before retaking his spot. He didn't note the three sets of big eyes on him as anything special, assuming that the pair were just surprised that Harry would risk Trevor getting free and that Draco was only surprised by the toad in general.

"I'm surprised that he didn't try and escape earlier when you came in," Harry noted calmly, shrugging off the stares laying uncomfortably against his skin.

The three looked like they wanted to say something but in the end they couldn't seem to find the proper words to use. It didn't matter anyways, the trio figured, first years aren't allowed a broom after all.

"… Do you think that the Trolley witch will ever serve us again?" Neville asked at last, before letting the toad in his hands slip away to hide for the rest of the train ride.

"I'm sure that she will-"

"Absolutely not."

Draco and Hermione turned to look at one another, each slightly annoyed by the other having spoken. Harry found the sight rather amusing.

"She's an adult," Hermione said in that stubborn, knowledgeable voice of hers that Harry knew could take some time to either get used to, or work her out of it. "Surely she won't be petty enough to be so spiteful towards children."

Draco only shook his head, the gel there making it stick stubbornly in place. "My father said that she could hold a grudge with the best of them," the boy informed, and Harry found himself liking the witch more and more at that little tidbit.

The forgiving sort were never the kind that interested the boy much, but then again, he'd never really met anyone all that forgiving before. The closest that he'd ever come was Jude, but forgiveness with the other boy always came with prices, ones that Harry was pleased to never have had to pay.

"Just owl your parents and ask," Draco continued. "I'm sure that they'll agree."

Harry watched as a confused look seemed to flit over Hermione's face for a moment before realization seemed to dawn in the girl. "My parents never went to Hogwarts. I'm the first witch in my family," the girl said proudly, a pleased smile on her face that slowly started to droop.

Harry noted how the boy across from him seemed to pale slightly at the information and lean away from the girl in a way that he clearly had hoped wouldn't have been noticeable,  but was. It didn't take Harry long to reason as to why.

"You don't have a problem with that, do you Malfoy?" Harry asked slowly, letting the boy take in the use of his last name rather than first. Letting him see just where Harry stood. "'Cause my friend back home is muggle and he's worth ten pompous brats that seem to think that 'keeping it in the family' isn't just some gross indulgence of incest. Or 'cause they liked fucking their cousin so much that they decided to marry them," Harry said crudely.

Both of the other boys in the compartment seemed to go green at the smallest boy's words, telling Harry all that he needed to know about Neville's parentage.

"My father has always told me that pure bloods had the strongest magic," the blond said almost timidly, as if he'd never been questioned in such a way before. 

Harry thought that it was probably safe to bet that he hadn't been.

Daddy issues, got it.

"Your father, the pure blood?" Harry asked rhetorically, the other boy nodded anyway, seeming to pause at the fact. "Cause that's not bias at all," Harry muttered though everyone else in the compartment still heard him. "Look, from what I've seen, muggles tend to hate magic because they don't have it. Because they fear it." They'll call you a freak and lock you away. "Why make more enemies out of our own simply because of where they come from? Magic is magic, no amount of bitching on your father's part is going to change that."

Draco slunk back into his seat within a contemplative look on the boy's face. To Harry it almost looked one step away from a paradigm shift. Hermione looked at the dark haired boy with a thankful gaze, an expression much kinder than any that he had ever seen the witch wear before. Harry wanted to wipe it off of the girl's face because he hadn't done it for her, not really, but for a woman that he had never met but had died for him all those years ago.

"That was very Gryffindor of you," Neville said admiringly, looking at Harry with wide eyes that the other boy could all but see stars in. Hermione seemed to agree as she nodded in approval. Draco only scowled more.

"Very what now?" Harry asked not to kindly, looking between the other three first years with bewilderment. To him it sounded as if they were speaking of some sort of sickness.

"Gryffindor," Hermione started, her voice taking on that primm note to it once more, much to Harry's dismay, "is one of the Hogwarts houses," she explained.

"There's four," Draco continued for the girl, holding up four fingers and ignoring Hermione's glare as the old tension was temporarily forgotten. "Students are divided into them based upon the traits that they value and possess the most."

Neville nodded, drawing Harry's gaze to him. "My Gran told me that your house is who you eat and sleep with, and go to all of your classes with for the first two years," the boy added timidly.

Divide you up with those like you, Harry reasoned. Like calls to like and all that shit, I guess.

"So what are the other three then?"

"Well," Hermione said excitedly, taking control of the conversation once more. Harry wasn't surprised that the other two let her, information seemed to be her strong suit. "You already know Gryffindor - the house of bravery and courage. Then there's Ravenclaw with their intelligence and wit. Hufflepuff who values loyalty and justness above all else. And Slytherin, who use cunning and ambition to meet their ends." 

Harry noted that the girl said the last house with a bit of a sour voice, Draco seemed to note it as well.

"Do you not like Slytherin, Hermione?" Harry asked when the other boy kept his mouth shut, walking on eggshells around the girl.

The girl's eyes flitted between the three boys warily before settling on Harry once more. "It's his house, Harry," the girl whispered with more than a hint of fear in her voice.

Harry didn't have to ask who she meant.

But Harry only looked at the girl boredly, unimpressed by her fear. "You said that it was the house of cunning and ambition, right?" Harry asked, looking at the girl with a piercing gaze. Hermione nodded slowly, suddenly unsure of herself as Harry's voice mirrored the tone that he had used only a minute or so ago. "So all military strategists are evil now?"

Hermione reared back a little in her seat from shock. "What?! No-"

"Right," Harry cut her off. "It's the Ravenclaws then, I mean it takes a lot of intelligence to incite an uprising. Bravery too, now that I think about it. So what about the Gryffindors? The Hufflepuffs too, can't leave them out. Followers tend to show a good deal of loyalty, don't you think?" Harry sighed as the girl looked properly ashamed and Draco looked overly interested in what the other boy had to say. "Everyone is a mix of traits, Hermione. You can't define a whole group of people by the actions of one man."

Harry knew that muggles were curle because all of the ones that he had ever met were, Jude being the only exception to the rule that he has found yet. But he wouldn't judge the older boy based on the actions of those around him.

An awkward slice hung in the air once more before Draco broke it. "Slytherin if for those that use whatever means it takes to survive," he said and Harry felt something thrum inside of his chest at that.

Survival has been all he'd been doing since he was born. He wondered what it would be like to be around others like that as well, if maybe they had the same gruff voice as Harry and Jude, and all of the others from the Boy's Home. 

"Merlin's was a Slytherin, after all," Draco continued. "He was alive during the time of Camelot, back when magic was outlawed and used his cunning to survive."

"I didn't know that," Hermione admitted slowly. Harry thought that this must be a rare thing for the girl.

Draco only shrugged and looked at Harry with contemplative eyes, like he was a puzzle that the boy had yet to properly solve. Harry looked right back at him, holding the steady gaze. 

"We should change into our robes," Nieville said unsurely, having been the only one to notice the approaching caste. Harry guessed that he had likely been looking out of the window to avoid having to watch the rest of them play a verbal game of 'who is ticked off with who?'

Draco got up and left the compartment to return to his own with a small wave that the other two boys returned. The three left in the compartment quickly set upon dragging their robes out of their trunks and throwing them on over their normal muggle clothes. A task that was much easier for Harry then Hermione and Neville as he never put his trunk in the overhead.

"So you're aiming for Ravenclaw then?" Harry asked the bushy haired girl once the three had settled back down in their seats. 

Hermione shook her head no. "I was actually hoping for Gryffindor."

Harry nodded slowly but he couldn't really see it. Sure, he'd read all of their school books at least once in the past month, but Hermione was the type that had a thirst for knowledge that drove her to do much more than just that. She learned everything that she could about their world. But Harry supposed that it wasn't really his business either way.

The train came to a slow crawl that had the three standing as anxiety filled the compartment. Hatty's stomach coiled up tightly with nerves as the group made their way out of the train and onto the dark platform. He found comfort in the blade that rested soothingly at his side as he shivered in the September night air of Scotland.

A warmth pressed up against his side as the three waited for everyone else to get off of the train, but instead of soaking in it, Harry resisted the urge to grab for his blade. The warmth slipped away slightly, seeming to notice the other boy's mood as Harry turned.

Draco stood at Harry's side now, a careful distance being preserved between the two boys. Harry couldn't help but feel shame cool in his gut at being so easily read by a near perfect stranger.

The four stuck together as they followed Hagrid and his lantern down a long, narrow path, away from the other years. Harry noticed Neville clutch Trevor tightly as the boy stared at the giant with wonder. Hermione and everyone else's expressions were much the same from what little Harry could see. Only Draco seemed to share Harry's dislike of the man, though he knew that it was for much different reasons than his own. But all thoughts of the giant left the students' minds as the narrow path opened  up for them.

The first thing that Harry saw was stars, hundreds upon thousands of them shining brightly in the night sky. It was more than he'd ever seen in his life. Harry wanted to pocket a picture of it to show Jude later, he loved the stars too. 

Next, was the mountain - reaching up high into that vast sky - and the castle that sat upon it. The windows were all lit up with a warm light like something out of a story that Aunt Petunia used to read to Dudley when she thought that Harry couldn't hear.

It was perfect.

"No more th'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, breaking the first years' trance as he pointed to the small fleet that waited for them at the edge of the lake.

The four of them climbed into the boat shakily, Harry and Draco sharing the front seat as Neville and Hermione brought up the back. Harry and Draco snickered to themselves as they watched a red headed boy almost fall into the lake despite Hagrid's instructions to be careful and have someone hold the boat steady from the outside. 

This earned each of them a slap of the back from the annoyed first year girl behind them, not that either minded much. Harry had thought that Draco might, but Harry supposed being defended by and against the same boy on different - yet incredibly similar - occasions would make anyone reevaluate a few things.

As Hagrid screamed forward the boats began to move on their own through the water, not stopping until they were at an underground harbor of sorts. The first years followed the man up a winding flight of stairs and to the castle door.

As they got closer and closer to Hogwarts, all of the other students oohed and awed at the close up sight of the castle before them, but Harry's skin began to crawl uncomfortably on his bones, his magic threatening to lash out like a feral animal trapped in a cage. The boy only had one thought on his mind as they stopped in front of the tall door:

This place is dangerous to me.