human again / hp.

Chapter 2

The journey aboard the Hogwarts Express passed in a blur, a mix of excitement and restless energy buzzing through every compartment. Draco spent most of the time animatedly talking with Crabbe and Goyle, their conversation swinging between Quidditch, family connections, and lofty ambitions for the coming school year.

I half-listened to their chatter, occasionally offering my thoughts when Draco turned to me, but my gaze was mostly fixed on the rolling countryside outside the window. The fields seemed to stretch endlessly, dotted with the occasional cottage or grazing animals. The mundane simplicity of the outside world stood in stark contrast to the monumental change awaiting us.

Every so often, I glanced at Draco. He was perfectly at ease, or at least he seemed to be, gesturing confidently as he talked. Crabbe and Goyle nodded along, their loyalties unquestioning. It was a performance I recognized well—he wore it like a second skin—but I wondered if, beneath it, he felt the same knot of nervous anticipation that twisted in my stomach.

As the train finally began to slow, excitement rippled through the corridors. Students scrambled to gather their belongings, the sound of trunks opening and voices raised in excitement filling the air.

When we stepped off the train, the cool night air greeted us, and my heart skipped a beat. In the distance, illuminated against the dark sky, was Hogwarts Castle. Its towering spires and countless glowing windows made it look every bit as magical as I had imagined. A faint sense of awe washed over me, mingling with my nerves.

"Right, then! First years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Hurry up!"

The booming voice belonged to a giant of a man with wild, bushy hair and a friendly grin. Hagrid. Father had mentioned him once or twice, though not kindly. He led the cluster of first-years toward a small fleet of boats waiting at the edge of a vast, black lake.

"Only four to a boat!" Hagrid called as the students jostled to find spots.

Draco grabbed my arm and steered me toward a nearby boat. We climbed in together, Draco settling beside me while Crabbe and Goyle squeezed in behind us. The boat rocked slightly under their weight, and I gripped the side, peering nervously over the edge at the glassy water.

The journey across the lake was mesmerizing. The reflection of the castle danced on the surface, the lights flickering like stars in the inky depths. I leaned forward slightly, letting the cool night air whip strands of my hair loose from its careful braid. For the first time all evening, my nerves ebbed, replaced by the simple wonder of the moment.

"Look at it," Draco murmured beside me, and I turned to see his expression softened, awed despite himself.

"Beautiful," I replied, though I wasn't sure if I meant the castle or the sense of possibility that seemed to emanate from it.

When the boats docked, we disembarked and followed Hagrid up a winding stone path to the castle. The group of first-years moved in a tight cluster, a mix of whispered excitement and nervous laughter filling the air. As we ascended the stone steps, the massive doors of the castle loomed before us, their intricate carvings glinting faintly in the torchlight.

The doors swung open, revealing a stern-looking witch with sharp features and piercing eyes. Professor McGonagall. Father had described her as one of the most capable witches at Hogwarts, though he had often spoken of her with a faint air of disapproval, likely because she wasn't Slytherin.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, her voice calm but authoritative. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses."

Her words hung in the air, and I felt Draco's elbow nudge mine. When I turned to him, he gave me a small, reassuring smile. I returned it, though my stomach churned.

"There are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin," McGonagall continued.

Suddenly, a boy darted forward with a startled cry. "Trevor!" he exclaimed, lunging after a toad. The interruption broke the tension, earning a few chuckles from the group.

The boy mumbled a flustered apology as McGonagall's lips thinned slightly. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," she said briskly before sweeping away, her robes billowing behind her.

My brother nudged me to go with him. "It's true, then, what they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

I followed his gaze, and sure enough, there he was—dark hair, round glasses, and a lightning-shaped scar faintly visible beneath his fringe. The sight of him sent a ripple through the group.

Draco straightened, smoothing his robes as he approached. "This is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to our companions, "and I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And this is my sister, Celeste."

I offered a polite smile, though I couldn't help feeling a pang of unease.

Before anyone could respond, a red-haired boy beside Potter let out a snicker.

"Think our name's funny, do you?" Draco said, his tone turning icy. "I've no need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley."

The boy flushed, but Draco wasn't finished. He turned back to Potter, his voice dripping with condescension. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He extended his hand, but Potter didn't take it. Instead, he looked Draco squarely in the eye and said coolly, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

Draco froze, stunned by the outright rejection. I reached for his arm, gently tugging him back as I whispered, "Come on."

Still glaring at Potter, Draco allowed himself to be led away, though his indignation radiated off him in waves.

Behind us, the creak of the doors broke the tension.

"We're ready for you now. Follow me," McGonagall said, reappearing at the entrance.

And with that, we stepped forward, the Great Hall awaiting us.