Chapter V: Welcome To Hogwarts

Diagon Alley was packed, which made Kingsley nervous. He kept a firm hand on the wand holstered on his hip, and looked warily around the crowds, searching for any sign of Death Eaters or other malcontents. After all, this was the day the Boy Who Lived started his magical education…

“If it makes you feel any better,” a familiar voice remarked, “there are a dozen of my people in the crowd and several more waiting nearby with heavy weapons. Just let those bastards try anything on today!”

“Nice to see you again, Mr Grey,” Kingsley said amiably. “Not expecting any major arrests, I hope?”

“I’ll be far too busy,” Grey replied. “I’ve got Hogwarts stuff to buy.”

Kingsley shot him an astonished look. “Well, well, well. Respectable family man now, are you?”

“Something like that. You lot heard anything from Interpol lately?”

“Sadly not. Anything from your sources?” The Special Taskforce maintained close ties with Special Branch, the arm of Her Majesty’s Police Force that straddles the often blurry line between law-enforcement and the intelligence services, and in a roundabout way they often got to hear quite a few things that Interpol didn’t.

“Yes, and good news too. Barty Crouch Jr is currently cooling his heels in a Vietnamese prison cell, under an assumed name, after a rather sordid incident involving an underage prostitute and some Class-A drugs. He’ll get out some time after Harry’s sending his own kids to school, unless they hang him, and given a choice between the Hanoi Hilton and a noose I know what I’d pick.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. Anything on Pettigrew?”

“I’m afraid not, but he’s probably some cat’s dinner by now. Well, I’ve got to go. See you round.”

Harry watched with mild interest as the impossibly blonde boy was fitted for school robes. “You too?” he asked briskly. “I’m Draco Malfoy. Mother’s around here somewhere, and Uncle Severus is getting my school books. How about yours?”

“They had some other bits to get at the apothecary,” he replied. “I think I’ve seen your picture somewhere.”

“You’d be thinking of my father, I expect. He died when I was a baby; lost an argument with some armed muggles, or so I’m told. Ironic for one of You-Know-Who’s biggest fans, isn’t it?”

“You might say so,” Harry allowed.

“I most certainly do. Rotten business all round; I doubt we’ll ever live it down.”

“The part where he was shot by muggles, or the part where he backed the wrong horse?” a new voice enquired sweetly.

“Both, I should think,” Draco replied, obligingly raising his arms to be measured. “Malfoys have always picked the winning side. Well, I suppose the best bloodlines come out with the odd duff note every so often.”

“Are you lot people or racehorses?” the newcomer laughed.

Draco gave her a long look. “There was a muggle by the name of Nietzsche…”

“Who was read by another lot of muggles who made the Big V look like a wet liberal!”

“And I doubt any of them had the faintest idea of what point he was actually trying to make,” Draco replied smoothly. “I don’t think I caught your names, by the way.”

“I’m Natalie Grey,” she replied.

Harry took a deep breath. He hadn’t been looking forward to this. “Harry Potter,” he said wearily, and braced himself.

“Oh, wow! Nice to meet you!” Natalie replied, offering her hand. Harry shook it, feeling relieved. That could have been worse…

Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow. “Somehow I thought you’d be a bit taller,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, and he’ll vanquish the last of the Death Eaters with fire from his eyes, and bolts of lightning out of his arse,” Natalie replied airily. “Honestly, I feel sorry for you, mate; much more PR and they’ll be hunting for Kryptonite!”

Harry snorted with laughter. “Sorry, Malfoy, muggle joke. God, I hope we’re in the same House, Natalie; you’re the first sane person I’ve introduced myself to all day.”

Meanwhile, Molly Weasley and Petunia Evans were watching with interest as Fred and George attempted to chat up a couple of Ravenclaws, both of them highly attractive.

“I’m torn between wanting to stick up for them and knowing that there’s an important lesson to be learned from this,” Molly said quietly, watching as two significantly older men advanced on the twins.

“People do say that it’s unwise to interfere with natural selection,” Petunia agreed, as each man took a stern grip on one twin’s elbow and pulled them aside.

“Just a friendly warning,” the shorter, dark-haired man said in a deceptively light tone. “If you persist in staring openly at my little sister’s legs like that, I will be obliged to deck you. I’m sure you’ll understand my point of view when your sister -Ginny, yes?- gets interested in boys. I’m not going to try and stop you getting to know her, but you will do so in a decorous and respectful fashion, taking into account the fact that she has qualities besides the purely physical. Otherwise, I will see to it that you will never, ever be able to masturbate again. Right?”

“Right,” the twin in question said nervously.

“Good lad. I’ll leave you in peace, now, but don’t forget what I said.”

Molly gave the man an approving nod. “Wise words, Mr…?”

“Edward Grey. I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn, but I felt it best that we came to an understanding at an early stage.”

“Quite all right; I should have said the same to the pair of them later on. They’re good lads at heart, just at a certain stage in life, and you’ve got a couple of heartbreakers in the family.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckled. “Oh, hello again Petunia… Oh, what’s he gone and done now?”

The younger of his two sisters was shouting at his brother. Grey sighed. “It was supposed to be a friendly warning, you pillock!” he called. “You weren’t supposed to make him run away!”

Petunia and Molly traded looks, and snorted with laughter.

A few yards away, Aletha was introducing her old friend Ms G. Kelly ‘Danger’ Granger to the others. “When Mum and Dad told me Letha was going to a ‘special school’, they didn’t know the half of it!” Kelly laughed. “This is my sister, Hermione.”

“Hello,” Hermione said politely. “Are you all wizards and witches, then?”

“There’s one werewolf, as well,” Sirius replied. “See if you can guess which one it is.”

Hermione pulled a thick textbook from her bag and began flipping through it, whilst Remus said something vulgar in the private sign-language the Marauders had devised. “It’s not possible,” she replied. “Lycanthropy is utterly undetectable without a blood test, except during the full moon when it’s fairly obvious.”

“You’ll just have to wait a couple of weeks then,” Sirius replied with a grin.

Remus rolled his eyes. Kelly shared a look with Aletha, the words ‘You married this idiot?’ written on her expression.

“What can I say?” Aletha said with a shrug. “He’s good in bed.”

* * *

Natalie hauled her trunk through the fake pillar, her new cat perched on her shoulder like he’d just eaten the parrot. He was called Mr Mistopheles, or just Misto for short, and was black with a white chest and stomach. He bore a quite remarkable resemblance to his namesake in the musical, though less so when it came to TS Eliot’s description.

She shoved the trolley into a vacant corner of the platform and took a moment to get her breath back, wishing she’d packed fewer books.

“I did warn you,” her father remarked. “Only pack what you’re prepared to carry.”

“Did you hear me complain?” she replied. “Where’s Mum gone?”

“She took the twins to the loo. See any of your pals yet?” he asked casually, eyes scanning the platform. Anyone who knew what they were looking for would have taken note of the fact that his heavy leather jacket was unbuttoned despite the chill in the air, and wonder about the little earpiece he was wearing. If an Auror or a constable had challenged him, he would have produced a warrant card proclaiming him to be an officer of the Flying Squad. This was more or less true.

Father and daughter shared perpeptually ruffled black hair and piercing blue eyes, though Natalie’s betrayed her mother’s Chinese ancestry. Edward anticipated no end of trouble a couple of years down the line; she’d inherited her mother’s striking beauty. He reckoned that one in five hairs on his head were greying at this point, and knew with terrible grim certainty that the ratio would jump to at least one in three when his eldest daughter discovered boys.

Natalie looked around. “Oh, yeah, I can see Draco now. ‘Scuse me…”

“Draco Malfoy?” he said in surprise. “Well, well, well. There’s hope for the world yet, it seems.”

“Oi, Eddie! You do know your lass is thick as thieves with Lucius Malfoy’s brat, don’t you?” a deep Cockney voice remarked through his earpiece.

“So I can see, Ray, so I can see. Maybe we did the boy a favour.”

“Well, time’ll tell I suppose. Hello, here comes Potter and Co. And a Weasley or two, it looks like.”

Grey looked towards the entrance. Harry, Dudley and the Malone twins were engaged in a spirited discussion of magical versus Muggle sports with the youngest Weasley children.

“Oh, yeah. Spare us the jokes about Potters and redheads, please, I’ve heard them all. You see anything, Danny?”

“I’m shadowing a couple of Dark families; we’ve got Notts, Parkinsons and one other I can’t place. They’re being pretty cagey, but I’m getting the odd reference to ‘Our Lord’. Think it means anything?”

“I doubt it, but keep your ears open. I’m going into the crowd.”

He strolled towards the train, dodging the odd speeding child and familiar. Natalie and Draco had come across the sextet he had already mentally dubbed the New Marauders, and seemed to be getting on rather well with them. Look out, Hogwarts, he mused. You ain’t seen the likes of that lot since the Vikings turned up!

“Hey, I know you!” Ginny exclaimed. “You’re Fred’s girlfriend’s big brother!”

“I thought it was George,” said Ron.

“It’s both,” Natalie replied. “They’re sisters.”

“Oh, so it’s official now, is it? Marvellous. Dare I ask which one’s dating which twin?”

“Dunno,” Ron replied with eleven year-old honesty. “I don’t think they know.”

Grey had a sudden horrible vision of the twins drawing up a rota. “Oh, Jesus in a camper-van,” he muttered under his breath. “Anyway, I hope you aren’t making their lives too difficult. It’ll pay dividends if and when you become interested in the opposite sex. Oh, hello Sirius, Aletha.”

“Morning Edward. This your little girl, then?”

“Yep. Natalie, this is Sirius and Aletha Black. No, sorry, Aletha prefers Freeman-Black.”

Hermione Granger came past next, accompanied by Remus. Whilst Hermione was being introduced to the rest of the group, Grey handed him a small card.

“It was discreetly brought to my attention that you might be interested in this.”

Remus looked it over. “Well, that’s the first time I’ve been invited to join a pack in writing.”

“Pack?” laughed Mrs Grey, strolling up with two small children in tow. “Drinking and mayhem club more like.”

“We do offer a wide range of social activities that can tend towards being a little rowdy,” Edward admitted. “This is my wife, Michelle, and our twins Lauren and Valerie.”

“Pleased to meet you. So what do you do about full moons?”

“One of our members works behind the bar at Ministry of Sound, so we get the basement free; the manager thinks it’s a support group for people with AIDS. We’ve got a load of big chew toys so you’ve got something to gnaw on, and there’s a solid steel fire door and two people at the top with tranquilliser darts, taser guns and stun grenades as insurance. Basically, you can transform somewhere quiet, safe and with a hot cup of tea and some ibuprofen to look forward to in the morning. Sound good?”

“I’ll consider it. Are you-?”

“No, but the day after some socials I don’t half wish I was!” he laughed. “I tend to spend them losing drinking contests.”

“Ooh, bite me, bite me!” Sirius laughed.

“All members are allowed a maximum of three guests,” Grey added.

“I’ll certainly think about it,” Remus concluded. “Thanks a lot.”

The others stared at Natalie in open-mouthed astonishment. “Your dad hangs out with werewolves?” said Dudley, at length.

“Yep.”

“Wicked!”

Remus began to laugh. “Well, that would be a first.”

“We aren’t all bigots, you know,” Grey replied. “Isn’t that the rest of the Weasleys?”

It was, with the addition of his sisters, who had linked arms with the twins. Grey sighed. “They have no taste,” he grumbled.

“I’m thinking we don’t mention the whole werewolf thing to your mum just yet,” Natalie whispered to Ron.

“Yeah. But we’ll tell Fred and George later.”

Sirius had to turn his back.

Grey’s radio crackled to life. “Guv’nor, you’ve got ex-Death Eaters inbound. I’m pulling back for a sec.”

He looked up to see three sets of exceedingly pureblood parents escorting three equally pureblood children towards the train. None of them gave the disparate group a glance, save for a rather skinny-looking boy.

“You should be careful, Malfoy. You could end up mixing with the wrong sort,” he remarked.

“I’ll use all due caution,” Draco replied stiffly. “But you’ll find my idea of the wrong sort to be radically different from yours.”

“Blood-traitor,” Nott snarled. “Your father would be ashamed.”

“Good. Now leave me alone.”

Molly sighed. “There’s one or two of that sort in every year. Don’t let them get to you.”

“They’ll not provoke me twice in a hurry,” Rick said grimly.

A bell began to chime, prompting a frantic scramble to get everyone on the train. Kids lined the windows to wave goodbye as the train pulled away, at which point numerous mothers and one or two fathers broke down in tears.

“It should get easier by the sixth time,” Molly remarked. “But it’s harder.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Michelle laughed through her tears.

The eight of them found a compartment to themselves, and continued to get to know each other. Draco and Ron discovered a mutual love of chess, and borrowed a Muggle set from Rick. “Makes a nice change, not having the pieces back-chat you,” Draco remarked. “Or maybe I’m just not very good at it.”

Harry and Rick immersed themselves in giving Dudley a thorough grounding in the rules of Quidditch, much to Hermione’s quiet amusement.

“Of all the things they could tell him that would be actually useful, they talk about sport. Typical.”

“It’s a testosterone thing,” Natalie guessed.

At this point, a newcomer appeared. “Anyone seen a toad around here?” he asked. “I dropped him getting on the train.”

They looked under the seats and even in the luggage rack, but found no sign of him until Natalie spotted Mistopheles pawing at something in the corridor. It turned out to be Trevor, who was having a lot less fun than Misto and refused to leave Neville’s pocket for several hours.

“You could’ve made him explode, you little sod!” Natalie scolded the obviously unrepentant cat.

“What?”

“When threatened by predators, some species of toad puff themselves up to make themselves look bigger. They don’t always remember to stop before they go off bang,” Hermione explained. “It can be quite messy.”

“Who says they make boring pets?” said Fran with a wicked grin.

“Don’t even think about it,” Neville retorted hotly, watching as Misto progressed to swiping at Hedwig’s tail feathers.

“She’ll have you,” Harry warned the little cat. As if on cue, Hedwig nipped Misto’s paw. The cat hissed and withdrew. “Told you so. Daft mog.”

There was a hesitant knock at the compartment door, and a brunette girl with a turned-up nose stepped into the compartment. “Can I join you?” she asked them. “Some of the others have been making fun of me, and I was hoping they wouldn’t look for me in here.”

“Why not?” said Dudley. “Please, come on in.”

“Thank you. I know my father would disapprove, but everyone he thinks I ought to be friends with seems to find my nose simply hilarious for some reason,” she sniffed.

“Well, I don’t see him anywhere,” Harry quipped.

“Don’t count on it,” she said darkly. “He’s friends with Nott’s father, and they expect us to keep an eye on each other, so we don’t start making friends with muggleborns.” Her face twisted. “Load of tosh if you ask me. I haven’t met anyone from a ‘good’ family I’d give the time of day to since I got on the train.”

“Including me?” Draco said in mock-annoyance.

“Oh, you’re all persona non grata ever since your mother married Severus,” she replied. “They think she’s married beneath herself, which can only be a plus in my book.”

“I like this girl already,” Dudley murmured to his cousin.

“Only because she looks like your favourite Muppet,” Harry shot back, earning an elbow in the ribs.

Pansy soon fitted in with the little group, and was fascinated by their stories of muggle lifestyles and technology. “I’m always told how superior we are with magic and so on, but muggles do so much without it!” she enthused.

“You are going to love my dad,” Ron grinned.

“Well, now, what do we have here?” Nott sneered, sliding the door open. “Your father won’t be happy when he hears you’re consorting with mudbloods, Parkinson-”

Natalie was closest to the door, and immediately leapt to her feet, launching a roundhouse punch straight into his solar plexus. Nott bent double, the breath knocked clean out of him. Natalie seized his lapels and slammed him into the wall. “If you ever use that word in front of me again, you snivelling little shit, then I will fuck you up sideways. Do we understand each other? Good. Now get out of here while you can still walk!”

She let him slump to the ground, wheezing. The two big boys who’d been close behind him looked at each other. Hitting girls was off their agenda in a big way, and this one looked potentially dangerous into the bargain. They settled for helping their leader to his feet and making a swift exit.

“Remind me to never, ever piss her off,” Neville concluded. “She’s deadly!”

“Dad taught me a few things in case I got snatched or something. He doesn’t want us too reliant on our wands.” She grinned. “And besides, bare fists are a lot more satisfying.” And knees, teeth, elbows and nails, she added mentally; her father had not been overly concerned with the Queensbury Rules.

“Nobody’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” Pansy said in a very small voice.

“We blood-traitors, muggleborns and half-bloods call this strange phenomenon friendship,” Fran replied. “It can take a bit of getting used to, but it’s got several benefits.”

“One day, I’ll meet someone who can wear these things with style,” Harry grumbled, adjusting his tie.

“Ahem,” Draco retorted, preening slightly. The others privately conceded that Draco was that irritating sort of person who can wear almost anything with style, but they’d be damned if they’d admit it.

“Stroke your own ego, Blondie,” Ron suggested.

“Naff off, Carrot.”

“Children, children, that will do,” Professor Flitwick admonished mildly, bustling past towards the door. “Don’t worry about your luggage, it’ll be taken separately.”

“By house-elves,” Hermione said darkly.

“I’ll talk to you about that later,” Natalie whispered. “And I’ve left them a tip, anyway.”

They squeezed into the boats under Hagrid’s watchful eye, and were met by Professor McGonagall. The eight of them had been forewarned about most of what she said in her speech, enabling them to tune out a bit. Some of the more sensitive souls reacted rather badly to the arrival of some ghosts. Sir Nicholas waved cheerfully, which unfortunately caused his head to fall sideways.

“That’s the one they call Nearly Headless Nick, isn’t it?” someone called.

“Yes, thank you so much for pointing that out!” the ghost complained. “God, I don’t know. Some people can’t be satisfied with just having a man beheaded; oh, no, they’ve got to hire a total bloody amateur…”

“What did he do, anyway?” Rick wondered.

“Cuckold the Earl of Doncaster,” Hermione replied instantly.

“Fiver says she ends up in Ravenclaw,” Harry remarked. “Did you learn all of this stuff after you got your letter?”

“Until I got my letter, I thought magic was a fairytale,” she replied primly.

Ron whistled admiringly. “Purebloods, take note.”

They filed into the Great Hall, gasping at the sight of the enchanted ceiling. “So who pinched the roof?” joked Dudley.

“A group of embittered Squibs broke into the castle in 1724 and made off with it in protest of their lack of inheritance rights, intending to hold it hostage. The law was changed five years later, but by then they’d forgotten what they’d done with it and nobody’s ever got around to erecting a new one,” Hermione replied, totally deadpan. “English Heritage’s magical division found part of it had been used in the construction of the ancestral home of the Malfoys when they surveyed the building back in the late 1970s, but the rest’s still lost.”

“English Heritage have never…” Draco burst out laughing. “You little minx! You even had me fooled!”

“See what I mean, Malfoy? They’re turning you into a half-breed!” Nott called.

“Do I have to beat you up again?” Natalie retorted, instantly silencing him.

“Put that in your cauldron and brew it, Theodora,” Pansy muttered.

“Quiet at the back there!” Professor McGonagall snapped. “Abbott, Hannah!”

Dudley was a surprising entrant to Slytherin, accompanied by Natalie. “Well who says it’s all Dark wizards and witches in there?” Harry said thoughtfully, listening with half an ear as Draco followed them. Rick and Fran were both made Gryffindors, joining Hermione and Neville, both of them surprising choices. “Wish me luck,” Pansy said nervously, taking her turn. To Nott’s obvious disgust, she joined Slytherin as well.

Finally, Professor McGonagall called out, “Potter, Harry.”

Harry tried to ignore the muttering, and allowed the hat to be placed on his head. “Hmm, now you’re quite tricky…” it said thoughtfully. “Bravery enough for Gryffindor, not quite Ravenclaw material, but enough honour and loyalty to your friends to do Hufflepuff credit… And yet you’ve a thirst to prove yourself that would do you proud in Slytherin. Any preference?”

I think I’d rather not share a dormitory with Nott, thanks; it could lay you open to a charge of accessory to murder.

The Hat laughed out loud. “Then it’d better be Gryffindor!”

A mighty cheer went up from the relevant table, and Harry walked over to join them. “Welcome aboard, mate,” one of the Weasley twins said proudly.

Harry nodded, then glanced over to the Slytherin table. His four friends were sitting together, trying to ignore the glares they were getting from Nott and his little gang. Harry gave them a reassuring thumbs-up.

“You want to watch that lot,” remarked Fred and George’s friend Lee. “Slytherin’s full of Death Eaters in waiting, and all sorts!”

“All the more reason to give moral support to the good ones,” Ron countered. “Besides, Dudley’s muggleborn and I think Natalie’s a half-blood.”

“No, both her parents were one-offs. I asked Susan,” George replied. “They’re going to get it ripped out of them.”

“Let them try,” Hermione said smugly. “Did you know her dad hangs out with a werewolf pack?”

Fred and George exchanged looks. “Oh, shit!” they chorused.

“Cheer up, guys,” Lee replied. “It’s his younger brother who really doesn’t like you.”

The four Slytherins gradually migrated towards the Gryffindor table, obviously browned off and accompanied by a fifth Slytherin sympathiser named Blaise Zabini. “The next time I hear the word ‘mudblood’ I’m going to twat someone,” Natalie hissed furiously. “And that little tosser Nott…”

“Language,” Percy admonished. “If you’re having trouble then I suggest you talk to Professor Snape. He’s not brilliant at being impartial between Houses, especially when Gryffindor’s involved, but if he catches a hint of bullying he’ll have their hides no matter what House you’re in.”

“And something tells me you’ll need all the help you can get,” added Lee, his gaze lingering pointedly on Pansy.

“Don’t you start,” she growled. “I’ve heard all the jokes already.”

“I think it looks good on you,” Dudley replied.

Dear Mum, Dad, Lauren and Lallie,

So far so good. I was Sorted okay, and as predicted I’m now the first Grey in Slytherin! I’m still getting on alright with the rest of the gang you saw on the platform; in fact, we’ve got a roughly even split between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

I’m becoming quite good friends with a girl called Pansy Parkinson. No, don’t scream, she’s just about fed up with all that pureblood crap. We reckon her dad was a Death Eater; stick him on The List, will you?

That about covers it, I think. I’ll write more when something interesting happens.

All my love,

Natalie.

PS: Fred and George know about your werewolf buddies now. Have fun!

Dear Mum, Dad and Ginny,

Well, I made it. Fred and George did their usual; the Sorting’s a bit nerve-wracking but there’s no actual pain involved.

Better let Luna’s dad know that I’ve witnessed a very weird phenomenon; five students sorted into Slytherin who aren’t pureblood snobs! Hell, Natalie Grey’s in the snakepit, and we’ve all heard the stories about her dad.

I’ll keep you posted on this one.

Ron.

Dear Kelly (I never can call you ‘Danger’ with a straight face),

If Sirius or Aletha haven’t already told you, yes, Remus is a werewolf. Don’t let it put you off though!

I’m a Gryffindor, don’t ask me how but I’m told it was a pretty close run thing. And get this: I’m now really good friends with The Boy Who Lived! Finally, some street-cred, though if I told Harry that he’d probably throw me in the lake; he’s not big on being a celebrity.

Better pack up for the night; breakfast’s at eight sharp. I’ll write more in the next couple of days.

Lots of love,

Neenie. XXX

Dear Mother and Father,

I have arrived safely and entered Slytherin. Your predictions for potentially useful friends have gone sadly awry; aside from Zabini, Malfoy and a couple of Muggleborns, my housemates are currently too busy insulting my nose. Perhaps maturity will bring an improvement, but they’re currently more trouble than they’re worth, especially since Theo succeeded in making a total fool of himself in front of about a quarter of his year before we even reached Hogsmeade.

However, I have found myself on remarkably good terms with one Harry Potter. He may be a half-blood, but anyone who can defeat the Dark Lord single-handed as a mere infant (even by, as Professor McGonagall would probably have it, ‘sheer dumb luck’) is clearly a force to be reckoned with.

Finally, what do you know about a man by the name of Edward Grey? Some people seem to think he was heavily involved in the exoneration of Sirius Black, but in something other than an official capacity. His daughter Natalie is a fellow Slytherin, and I would be interested to learn a little more about her family background.

Fondest regards,

Pansy.