Three Animagi and a Werewolf

Three Animagi and a Werewolf, Chapter 5: September 1^st

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

James sat back happily in his seat on the Hogwarts Express. He was sorry to leave his mother behind all alone on platform 9 ¾, but he was also thrilled to bits that he was off at last. As the train pulled out of the station, he leaned out of the window to wave, and he stayed there long after King's Cross was out of sight, feeling the breeze brush against his face and watching the steam fly away overhead. He didn't turn back, in fact, until he heard the door slide open behind him. Sirius Black's head of thick black hair and ready smile were peering in cheerfully.

"So there you are!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

James smiled back. "Hi, Sirius."

"Want to come and explore the train with me? See who else is about?" Sirius suggested.

James nodded eagerly, and the two of them set off along the corridor together while the train chugged along merrily. As they went, Sirius said hello to several of the other students they passed in the corridors.

"Do you know everyone already?" James asked at one point.

Sirius laughed.

"No, not everyone. But I met some of them back at platform 9 ¾. It never takes me long to get to know people."

They passed a plump witch pushing a trolley of sweets, and bought several chocolate frogs each. They strolled further along, munching happily, until they heard quiet whimpering noises from behind a door, and a squeaky voice saying,

"No, no please, don't. I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry."

James and Sirius looked at one another and nodded. They pushed the door open and entered. There were two boys inside the compartment. Oe was a tall, greasy-haired kid with a hook nose and a wicked smirk on his face. The other was small and a little podgy, with thin fair hair and small eyes that looked scared out of their wits. The tall boy was pointing a wand at him. On the floor in the corner stood a small box containing what looked like a very ugly, large grey rat.

"Hello," Sirius said, "What's going on here?"

"None of your business," said the tall boy. "Go away."

Sirius placed his legs apart and his hands on his hips. James, meanwhile, was watching the other boy. He had turned towards them and looked excessively grateful for the interruption.

"H-hello," he said nervously. "I'm P-Peter Pettigrew."

"Hello, Peter," James answered. "I'm James Potter and this is Sirius Black. We were just stretching our legs out on the corridor. Like to join us?"

Peter Pettigrew shot an anxious glance at the scowling boy behind him and nodded eagerly.

"Come on then," said James, leading him to the door. "Sirius ..."

But Sirius was still standing frowning at the other boy, who was still clasping his wand tightly in his hand.

"What are you staring at?" the other boy asked.

"Sorry. I've just never seen anything quite as ugly as you before," Sirius replied.

"You take that back!"

The boy raised his wand, but Sirius spread out his arms.

"Just in case you're thinking of trying a jinx on me, I'd better warn you that I'm not carrying a wand right now," he said. "So you might want to reconsider. Might not look too good on your record, if you jinx a defenceless student before you even get to Hogwarts."

The other boy looked about to burst with wrath. James grabbed hold of Sirius's arm.

"Come on. Let's go."

Reluctantly, Sirius let himself be led away, back towards James's compartment.

"Stupid ugly git," he said, dropping into a seat by the window.

"Yes," James agreed, "but that's no reason to pick a fight on our first day."

"I don't like bullies," Sirius snarled.

"Nor do I," James said, taking the opposite seat. "But unfortunately, you seem to get them everywhere."

"Yeah, we had one like that at the orphanage where I grew up," Sirius answered. "I hate kids like that."

"You grew up in an orphanage?" James asked, surprised.

"Yup. Lived there practically all my life. My parents worked for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad. They were killed at the site of a really bad accident when I was about two. Luckily they were both magic, though, so I didn't have to go to a muggle orphanage, thank goodness. It wasn't too bad, really."

"I've never met my father," James said slowly, "and I don't really know much about him. But I can't imagine being without my mother."

Sirius shrugged.

"It's okay, when you can't remember it any other way. How about you, Peter?" he added, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone.

Peter Pettigrew sat down gingerly on the edge of a seat.

"I've still got both my parents," he began, "and two sisters. Philippa and Paula. They're twins, and both left Hogwarts three years ago."

"That's a big age gap," James remarked.

Peter grimaced. "Yes. It's not always easy, being that much younger than them."

There was a pause before Sirius asked,

"So what was the problem with that slimeball in the other compartment?"

Peter blushed.

"I ... err ... I was coming back from the toilet, and I went in the wrong door. He was sitting practising some spell or other on that rat. I think he was cross because he thought I'd seen what he was doing, but I honestly don't know what he was up to."

James frowned.

"Must have been something nasty, I expect. Judging by the look of him."

"I think he was about to do something nasty to me, too," Peter agreed. "I ... I'm glad you two came by when you did. Th-thanks."

"Don't mention it," said Sirius and James together.

There was much excited chattering when the train reached Hogsmeade station. Crowds of older students climbed off the train and disappeared into the night, leaving their luggage behind them, so it seemed. James, Sirius and Peter followed onto the platform, glad that it was quite a mild night.

"Firs' years over here!" a loud voice bellowed.

They turned and saw a giant of a man in a moleskin coat waving a large lantern in the air.

"Who's he?" Sirius wondered.

"I think that's Hagrid," Peter replied. "My sisters told me about him. He's the gamekeeper. Polly - that's Paula - said he's really fierce. But Pippa said she was just trying to scare me. She says he's really very nice."

"Hm. Well, I hope Pippa's right, then," said James.

They followed the swinging lantern to the edge of the lake, and clambered into a boat together. It rocked gently as it carried them towards the castle. The full moon shone brightly, as though eager to welcome the first-years to their new home.

Sirius nudged James in the ribs. "Pretty awesome, isn't it?"

James nodded. Yes, that about described it. It was great to be coming to Hogwarts at last. He thought of Mrs. Hammersmith, back in the London block of flats, and grinned as he imagined what she would say if she could see him now.

The tables in the Great Hall were already packed full when the first-years were led in through a side door by Professor McGonagall. They filed through, feeling nervous and excited under the staring eyes of all the older students.

At the teachers' table, Professor Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat and beamed on his students, new and old. The blue eyes behind his half moon spectacles sparkled.

"Welcome, boys and girls, teachers and new students. As ever on this first day of the new term, now is the time we discover where our new first years will begin their career at Hogwarts. I am sure we all look forward to receiving them in our midst, wherever the Sorting Hat may put them. Professor McGonagall ..."

Dumbledore sat down again. Professor McGonagall brought forward a wooden stool and an old, battered wizard's hat. The first-years stared at it anxiously. A tear above the brim opened suddenly and the hat began to sing.

"Hello new students, girls and boys,

Welcome to wonders and to joys.

I am the Sorting Hat, you see,

Of Hogwarts School of Wizardry.

Before you eat tonight I'll tell

Which house of ours will suit you well.

For Gryffindor, brave Godric,

The ones with courage I must pick,

While Ravenclaw, Rowena's lair,

Only the wisest can go there.

Helga Hufflepuff won't spoil,

The ones willing for honest toil.

Salazar Slytherin, at last,

Demands ambition from his caste.

So place me now upon your head,

And where you'll go shall soon be said."

The Sorting Hat's song ended there, and the Hall erupted with applause. As soon as the clapping and cheering had subsided, Professor McGonagall took out a scroll and began to unroll it.

"First-years, I will call out your names now, one by one, and you will put on the Sorting Hat, which will sort you into your houses. Anderson, Catherine ..."

James Potter watched interestedly while one student after another went nervously forward to sit on the stool, and listened while the Hat called out the houses they would be in. Some people seemed to sit for a long time while the Hat debated where to put them, others barely had time to wriggle onto the stool properly before it was time for them to get up again and join their house tables that greeted them with storms of applause.

"Baker, Arnold."

A short pause.

"Slytherin!"

"Berry, Eugene."

A long silence, then,

"Hufflepuff!"

"Black, Sirius."

Sirius took a deep breath and went forward. He sat on the stool, and McGonagall dropped the Hat over his eyes.

*Ah,* said the Hat into his mind, *a young whirlwind they've sent me to sort. Yes, you'll have fun at Hogwarts, my boy.*

The Hat chuckled, then called out loud, "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table made a deafening row as Sirius went and took a seat.

"Crimple, Mary."

"Ravenclaw!" cried the Hat.

The Ravenclaw table exploded with clapping as the first Ravenclaw to be sorted this year went to join them, her face flushing beetroot red.

James and Peter stood side by side, watching one first year after another be sorted. All the tables clapped each student - all except the Slytherin table, James noticed. The Slytherins cheered their own newcomers rather solemnly, he thought, and seemed to look down their noses at anyone who wasn't sorted into their house.

"Diggle, Damian."

"Hufflepuff!"

Cheers and clapping from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables accompanied the shouts and whoops of the Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins scowled.

"Evans, Lily."

"Excuse me," said a timid voice behind James.

He jumped, and stepped aside to let a red-haired girl walk by him and up to the front, catching only a brief glimpse of the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

"What house d'you think you'll be in, James?" Peter whispered while Lily Evans was made a Gryffindor.

James shrugged. He hadn't really thought about what house he would be in. Now that he was beginning to think about it, he felt like all the chocolate frogs he'd eaten on the train were playing leapfrog in his stomach. The line of first-years continued to grow shorter, all too quickly, it seemed. What house would he be sorted into? James wished he knew. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't be Slytherin.

"Jorkins, Bertha."

"Hufflepuff!"

Jorkins. So they had reached J already. Just K - not many of them, he guessed - L, M, N, O ... and then it would be Peter's turn, and his own soon after.

"Longbottom, Frank."

The Hat took a bit longer this time. Then,

"Gryffindor!"

James felt Peter begin to tremble beside him.

"It's going to be my turn soon. Oh, J-James, do you think ...?"

But James had no time to answer.

"Pettigrew, Peter," said Professor McGonagall, and shaking like a leaf, Peter went forward.

*Hello,* the Sorting Hat mused. *Now what do I do with you? Hm.*

*Put me in with Sirius, please,* Peter thought, *I don't want to go anywhere where I don't know anyone.*

*Gryffindor?* the Hat said back. *Are you quite sure? Only the stout-hearted should go there. Do you really think you are strong enough? Don't you think you might be safer in Hufflepuff?*

*No, no! I can be strong, honest I can, as long as I have a friend who will help me. Please, please put me in Gryffindor,* Peter begged the Hat.

It seemed to him as if the Hat sighed before it said out loud, "Gryffindor."

Sirius clapped hard while Peter came and joined him, his face brick-red, looking rather shaken. James drew himself up. Any minute now.

"Potter, James."

He looked over towards the Gryffindor table. Sirius was grinning at him, and held up crossed fingers. James smiled meekly. He suddenly felt very sick. But there was nothing for it. He went forward and closed his eyes before the Hat landed on his untidy mop of hair, knocking his glasses askew. He waited for something to happen, but the Hat remained silent for what seemed like an age. At last it said slowly,

*So. James Potter you call yourself, do you?*

*That is my name.*

*Is it? Well, well. If you say so. I remember your parents, James Potter. Your mother sat on this very stool, and I had no doubts when I put her in Gryffindor. It was in the blood she had inherited from her father. Yes, nowhere else to put her. A brave family, that. Brave and good. But your father - your father wasn't of the same kind. No. He was something quite different, wasn't he?*

*I ... don't know,* James confessed.

*Don't you now? Well ... your father, too, was brave, in his own way. But he was also ambitious. He desired greatness, and to that end allied himself with one whose lust for power may yet lead to much adversity in the future. But enough of that. We were talking about you. You have the potential to become a great wizard, you know. Yet there are different kinds of greatness. Which will yours be, James Potter? Will you follow in the footsteps of your grandfather, or are you, after all, your father's son? Gryffindor or Slytherin?*

James gulped. Slytherin? Oh no, not that! He closed his eyes still more tightly, feeling more sick than ever. For the first time in his life, he wished that he had been more insistent on being told about his father. At least he might have known what was coming to him. But the Hat was not yet finished with him.

*Your potential for greatness would be well served in Slytherin, I think. Yet perhaps ... yes, I think you deserve a chance to be better than that, and to that end ...*

There was a pause, a tortuously long one in James's opinion. Then, at last ...

"Gryffindor!" the Hat called.

James heaved a sigh of relief and hurried over to the Gryffindor table. Sirius jumped up and thumped him on the back, then dragged him down in the seat next to him.

"You were ages!" he exclaimed. "I was beginning to think you'd gone asleep under there or something. What took the Hat so long?"

James shrugged. He felt dreadful. He didn't want to tell anyone what the Hat had been saying, not yet, anyway. Maybe he would tell Sirius later. He was so deep in thought about what the Hat had implied that he never even bothered to look up when Sirius groaned, "Oh no, it's him", and Severus Snape, the greasy-haired boy from the train, was made a Slytherin.

At last the line of first-years dissolved, the last of them had been sorted. Professor Dumbledore waited until the applause died down, then he rose once more.

"Now that the first-years have all been sorted," he said, "it is almost time for me to announce the feast. But before I do, I have the usual notices to give out."

James wrenched his thoughts away from the Sorting Hat's words for a while to look at the headmaster. A tall and wise-looking man he was, standing there in his wizard's hat and elegant robes. Beside him sat Professor McGonagall, looking most strict and disagreeable. James looked along the line of teachers. There was a plump witch with a round face and an out-of-doors kind of expression. An old wizard with grizzled hair dressed in black robes with a long scar down his left cheek. A younger, colourful and exotic-looking witch with huge glasses that made her look like an overlarge insect. A tall wizard with a long, pale face and cold, steel-grey eyes. A tiny little wizard. If that was what he was, with a dark mop of wiry hair. And at the end sat Hagrid the gamekeeper, making the gigantic table look like no more than a low bench. James turned his attention back to Dumbledore.

"On no account," the headmaster was saying, "must students enter the Forbidden Forest beyond Hagrid's cabin. Also, Professor Sprout has acquired a very rare Whomping Willow, which has been planted in the school grounds. It is a somewhat - temperamental specimen, and I would advise you all to steer well clear of it. Our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to inform you that he has added 'laughing out loud in the corridors' and 'looking cheerful during the lunch hour' to the list of forbidden actions. As usual, you may feel free to examine the complete list in his office at any time. Finally, before we tuck in to plenty of good food and pumpkin juice, it gives me great pleasure to announce that Professor McGonagall, whom all but the first-years already know well, has agreed to act as my new deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house in addition to her duties as Transfiguration teacher."

There was polite clapping at all the tables, though many Gryffindors looked far from pleased at the prospect.

"And now," Dumbledore announced with a smile, "let the feasting begin!"

The students stared eagerly at the empty golden plates and platters, which in an instant were filled with delicious ham and chicken and dumplings, not to mention enough gravy to float an ark, as Sirius aptly put it.

Gryffindors

After the feast, James, Sirius and Peter followed a Gryffindor prefect out of the Great Hall feeling very full, very pleased and not the least bit tired. They stared with wide eyes at the moving paintings along the walls, and watched in amazement as the staircases to right and left changed directions at whim. Finally they reached the corridor leading up to the portrait of the fat lady. She smiled a welcome at the first-years.

"Password?"

"Tiddlywinks," the prefect replied.

The portrait at once swung back on its hinges, and the first-years filed into the Gryffindor common room after the prefect. The room was already crowded with Gryffindor students of various ages.

"Gather round, gather round," said the prefect impatiently.

There was much giggling and pushing and shoving before everyone was finally near enough to listen to what he had to say.

"Now," the prefect continued, "this is the Gryffindor common room. Boys, your dormitories are through that door and up the stairs. Girls, your dormitories are through there."

He pointed.

"Your luggage has already been brought up to your dormitories. The password to Gryffindor Tower is tiddlywinks. Please don't forget it, but don't write it down. We don't want it falling into the hands of unauthorised persons - Slytherins, in particular. You'll be given your timetables tomorrow morning at breakfast. And now off to bed, first-years. Run along."

They were ushered up the staircase into their dormitory. James looked around. Five four-poster beds stood in the room. He found his trunk and cauldron standing at the foot of the bed against the far wall, nearest the window. Sirius was already flinging himself onto the bed beside his.

"Comfy," he remarked approvingly.

Peter Pettigrew was in the third bed, and another boy had followed them in. He was short and slightly stocky with short dark hair and a friendly face. James remembered having seen him join the Gryffindor table not long before Peter.

"Hello," Sirius was saying to the boy, "you're Frank Longbottom, aren't you?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Great. I remember cheering you when you joined our table. I'm Sirius Black, this is James Potter, and that there's Peter Pettigrew," Sirius introduced the three of them.

"Hello. So," said Frank, smiling, "seems we four are stuck with one another for the next seven years at least."

"Five," James corrected, indicating the fifth bed. "There's another trunk and cauldron there."

"That's odd," Sirius said, sitting up. "I didn't see any other boys being sorted into Gryffindor, did you?"

The other three all shook their heads.