Harry heart raced with excitement as the scenery rushed by the fogged-up window of the Hogwarts Express. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this excited before.

Even when Hagrid had first knocked down the door and told him he was a Wizard, he was still in disbelief. But now, clad with his new spell books, trunk, wand, and little Hedwig by his side, he was finally starting to believe this was all real.

Everything seemed so unbelievable to Harry. But most unbelievable of all was the boy sat across from him, with fiery red hair and freckles decorating his skin, who was animatedly chatting away, like they’d been friends for their whole lives.

Ron Weasley had the most infectious smile, that made it impossible for Harry not to return it. He barely waited for a response from Harry before he declared them best friends. Harry could hardly speak out of shock.

No one had ever expressed any interest in Harry before. He was a loner. A loser. A freak.

But everything seemed different in this world. And Harry welcomed the change. He finally felt like this world could offer him a place to belong. Something he’d wished for his entire life, but never thought would ever come true.

“And then there’s Gryffindor, of course!” Ron exclaimed, meanwhile stuffing his cheeks with jelly slugs. Ron was explaining to Harry the houses of Hogwarts, upon his discovery that Harry was clueless on the subject. “Obviously, everyone knows that Gryffindor is the best house ever! All of my family has been in Gryffindor, so I know that’ll be my house.”

Harry focused; his cheeks flushed with anticipation as he tried to memorise every bit of information Ron was sharing. “So, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor,” Harry listed hesitating while he counted on his fingers, and subsequently frowning when he realised something. “Ron… didn’t you say there were four houses?”

Ron’s happy grin faltered for a second. “Oh…yeah, the fourth house is called Slytherin. You...um…probably want to avoid that house, Harry.”

Ron’s answer confused Harry and he tilted his head in confusion. “Why? What’s wrong with Slytherin?”

He wasn’t used to asking questions, so he still sounded a little hesitant. At Privet Drive asking questions would’ve earned him at least a smack on the back of his head, and that’s only if the Dursleys were in a good mood.

“Well, for starters, Slytherin is where all the worst sorts of wizards come from.” Ron grabbed another jelly slug, he spoke so nonchalantly, as if it was common fact. But then his face grew serious, and he leant into Harry and dropped his voice near a whisper. “And er- Slytherin was the house of…you-know-who. Of course, you know all about him, I'm sure?”

Harry’s eyes widened in realisation, as he nodded sadly. He remembered back to his conversation with Hagrid when Hagrid revealed how his parents had really died, murdered by a wizard that was so feared, that most scarcely said his name. His hand lifted to his scar on his forehead before he even realised he’d done it and he remembered Hagrid saying where it really came from.

“So…um…what house do you think I’ll be in?” Harry asked softly, his hand dropping, and he shook his head gently in an attempt clear his head of sad thoughts.

“Are you kidding? You’ll be in Gryffindor with me, of course!” Ron grinned, and Harry couldn’t help but grin back at his first friend who was so eager to actually spend time with him.

Harry hoped with all his heart that Ron was right, and that he would get to stay with him in Gryffindor. Ron made him feel relaxed and safe with his laid-back nature and humour and he felt like he could do anything if Ron was by his side. Of course, he had only known him a couple hours, and Harry knew better than to get his hopes up, he’d been disappointed enough before to know that. But this time he couldn’t help having faith.

For the rest of the train ride, the boys stuffed their faces with wizarding sweets and Ron shared more stories of Hogwarts and magic. It was easy for Harry to feel a little insecure about how little he knew about the wizarding world compared to the others, but Ron didn’t seem to mind at all except being a little shocked that Harry had never heard of quidditch, which Harry learned was a sort of wizarding sport on brooms. Ron promised to teach Harry when they were at Hogwarts. Harry could hardly wait.

An hour away from their destination, the students were all advised to change into their robes. Harry frowned as he tried to tie his tie, which was a neutral grey until the sorting, when it would magically change to suit the house. He had never worn one before but was now desperately wishing he had paid more attention to his uncle tying his when he left for work every morning, but he was always too busy making breakfast or ducking Aunt Petunia’s frying pan to see.

Harry tried to hide the massive knot that was forming in his attempt to tie it correctly but when hearing Ron’s chuckles, Harry’s face went red. Who doesn’t know how to complete simple tasks like tying a tie? Why would Ron want to still be friends with some failure like him?

“Here, let me help.” Harry suddenly realised Ron was right in front of him and had grasped Harry’s tie before he could protest and easily untied the knots and retied it correctly for him.

Harry held his breath at the thought of someone’s hands being so close to his neck, reminding him of Dudley who liked to try and strangle him sometimes (there might still be some bruises there). But Ron was gentle, and it made Harry feel as if he could trust him even more. He hoped he was not placing his trust in the wrong person. God knows he’s done that before. Although he wasn’t worried about being close, it didn’t help Harry feeling embarrassed with getting his new mate to help him get dressed.

When he finished tying the tie, Ron noticed Harry’s unease and assured him that he also didn’t know how to tie a tie until a few years ago when his dad had taught him because he needed to wear dress robes for his second cousin Bertha’s wedding. Harry relaxed a little at that, and he tightened the tie around his neck and pulled his robes on ever the top.

Ron also assured him that it didn’t matter because when they were sorted into Gryffindor, he could help Harry tie his tie for school every morning, until Harry learnt himself.

Harry subtly pinched himself, thinking he must be dreaming.

After the students were reassured their belongings and familiars would be taken care of, Harry bid goodbye to Hedwig and then found himself submerged in crowds, but seeing the familiar face of Hagrid, who was escorting the first years, put him at ease, especially when he acknowledged Harry by giving him a wave. It made Harry feel special.

Hagrid then placed them all in boats and sent them across the lake to the castle. Harry forgot all his worries of the new world, the sorting, his classes and his teachers, the minute he saw the magnificent castle gleaming in the moonlight. Is this really where he would be living? Could he call this magnificent castle his new home? It surely didn’t even compare to number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry stayed close to Ron as the first years were taken through the castle, before they stopped in front of giant double doors. Chatter erupted as everyone felt the combined excitedness and nervousness of getting sorted, until it was interrupted by an unfamiliar drawl.

“So it’s true, Harry Potter’s come to Hogwarts.” Harry turned around to the see the source of the voice when he heard his name called.

He felt his face burn as all the eyes descended on him the whispers began. He hated the attention. Harry looked up to see the owner of the voice was a tall pale boy in front of him. His blond hair slicked back over his head as he smirked down at Harry. Immediately Harry felt wary of him.

“Well, I can’t help but be a little disappointed,” He laughed, nastily as he scrutinised Harry, who fidgeted with his robe nervously. “Why, this can’t possibly be the ‘Boy who lived’, he looks like a skinny little runt to me.”
Harry’s face got redder as those around the boy laughed loudly as his comments.

Harry hadn’t met many wizards yet, but all of them had shown him more kindness than he could ever imagine, but in that moment, Harry realised that although this world was miles better than his old one, every world had bullies and Harry was destined to always be the butt of the joke.

“Hey, leave Harry alone.” Harry nearly jumped when he heard Ron speak up from beside him. Harry watched in awe as his new friend stood between Harry and the bully, defending him.

This was new.

Nobody had ever stood up for Harry like this and he felt an overwhelming gratitude for Ron but was also a little scared as he didn’t want Ron to get hurt because of Harry.

The bully wasn’t intimidated by Ron in the slightest and instead laughed in his face. “What do we have here?” He looked Ron up and down, snarling. “Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley.”

Ron’s confidence faltering was all it took for the bully’s comments to be confirmed to him. He laughed again loudly and so did his minions, before turning his attention back to Harry.

“Look, Potter. I was only being honest. I know it’s not your fault, you were raised by Muggles.” The boy spat out the word. “Filthy vermin are what I think they should be called. You need someone to guide you in his world Potter, there’s many things you don’t know.” The bully said, suddenly serious, as opposed to his joking tone before. “For instance,” He looked a Ron again in disgust. “Some wizarding families are better than others, and someone like you doesn’t want to be making friends with the wrong sort.” The bully held out his pale hand to Harry, and Harry stared at it, confused. “I can help you there. I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

Draco said his name as if it held the most importance, but it just left Harry confused as he stared at his outstretched hand.

Did this bully just insult him and now he wants to be Harry’s friend? Harry had never had a friend before, but he was quite sure that’s not how it worked usually.

How Ron had treated him, yes that’s what he wanted in a friend, definitely not Draco Malfoy.

Harry realised he was still looking blankly at Draco’s hand and made a split second decision. “I, um, think I can figure out the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”

Immediately the others erupted into curious whispers, and Harry worried he did the wrong thing. He just didn’t want to lose his first ever friend who had also stood up for him. He and Ron were going to be in Gryffindor together and he didn’t want to ruin that. That’s where he belonged, he just knew it. He shot a quick glance at Ron to see him smile slightly back and he knew he had done right.

Draco was angry, his face tinged pink with embarrassment as everyone stared at the scene before them. Harry got the feeling that, like Dudley, Draco rarely got told no and his way of ensuring it stayed like that was to intimidate even those he lets close to him. Draco’s eyes narrowed and Harry had to look away from the ferocity in them.

“You’ll regret this Potter,” Draco spat, and Harry couldn’t help flinching a little. “Making an enemy out of me is not something anyone wants.”

Harry opened his mouth, but no response came. As he frantically searched his brain for a response, he heard the clearing of a throat behind him.

They all turned to see a tall, sour-faced woman with her hair pined back in a tight bun. She looked down on the first years sternly, but not unkindly.

Harry found out that the tall woman was called Professor McGonagall, and after a short speech about the sorting ceremony and what houses meant to Hogwarts, all which Harry had already learnt from Ron of the train, they were led into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was enchanting, and Harry was, yet again, in awe of the wizarding world. Four long tables fed down the centre of the great hall, filled with students of all ages, who turned to look at them walking down.

It made Harry a little uneasy at the attention but being surrounded by other first years, made him feel better, as well as the hope at finding somewhere he truly belonged. Harry was entranced with the view above which looked like the night sky, twinkling with stars, and below them a sea of floating candles, lighting up the room.

Professor McGonagall led them to the front in a crowd where they were to wait for their name to be read out. Harry looked up to see a long table with who Harry assumed were the teachers. He smiled shyly at Hagrid when he saw him sat there, and Hagrid smiled warmly back. Further along, Harry saw a man with a long silvery beard and half-moon spectacles who Harry recognised from his chocolate frog card as Professor Dumbledore. His looked kindly down on the first years.

Harry continued to look at the staff table when his eyes landed on one particular man who seemed to be staring back at Harry with intensity. The man’s eyes were so black, they reminded Harry of dark tunnels, and shiny black hair framed the man’s face like curtains. The way he stared at Harry with a lingering disgust, made Harry shiver and he quickly looked down at his shoes instead, feeling uncomfortable.

That was okay though, Harry was used to people not liking him.

“Abbot, Hannah.” The first name was called, and Harry saw a small brown-haired girl go up to the front and sit on a stool before a large old hat was placed on her head.

“Hufflepuff!” A cheer erupted from one of tables when the hat revealed Hannah Abbot’s house and Professor McGonagall lifted the hat as she went to go join her house mates. More students were called and sorted before Harry heard a familiar name.

“Malfoy, Draco!” The blonde-haired bully swaggered up to the stool, exuding confidence.

McGonagall hardly placed the sorting hat on his gelled back hair before it shouted “Slytherin!” Draco smirked as Harry and Ron looked at each other. Harry remembered what Ron had said about bad wizards being in Slytherin.

“Potter, Harry!” Harry jumped as he heard his name, he was so deep in thought. Ron nudged him forward and gave Harry a thumbs up.

Harry saw him mouth: “See you on the other side!” and he smiled nervously back.

He walked up to the stool like all the other students and only then did he realise the whispers and stares around him. Every student and every teacher it seemed was interested in where Harry would end up.

He looked resolutely at the ground, hating the attention. He hoped this wasn’t going to be a reoccurring theme in Hogwarts.

He felt the hat sit on his head; it was heavier than he thought it would be. “Hmmm, difficult, very difficult…” Harry jumped and nearly fell off the stool as he heard the hat speak to him. “Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind either…talent? Oh yes. And a…thirst to prove yourself. But where should I put you?”

Harry didn’t know if the sorting hat was talking to itself or if Harry was supposed to answer. He closed his eyes and thought hard, somewhere I will belong, somewhere I belong, he chanted in his mind hoping the hat would hear.

“Somewhere you belong eh?” The sorting hat replied, and Harry was happy he got through to it.

Harry continued his mantra somewhere I will belong, somewhere I will belong somewhere I will belong.

“Belonging is not a place, Harry Potter, it is but a feeling, you must remember that.”

Somewhere I will belong somewhere I will belong somewhere I will belong, Harry continued. Why didn’t the hat just understand?

“Ok…yes…I think I have a place where you can belong.” The sorting hat pondered. “This house is full of people also trying to find a place to belong and I am certain that they will be able to help you on your way. You must trust me, child.”

Harry held his breath with anticipation, his hands were getting clammy. He knew he had been sat in this stool more that the students before him. Maybe Harry just didn’t belong in any of the houses and the sorting house was about to kick him out of Hogwarts. Harry shuddered at the thought. To get so close to a place he could call home to only have it ripped away from him and sent back to be a slave to the Dursleys.

“Better be…” Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by the sorting hat. It had finally come to a decision. “Slytherin!”