As the shadows outside grew longer and the sun moved towards the western horizon, Richard grew excited. He was almost there, at his new home. James seemed to feel similar, as his chatter became louder and faster the further north the train moved. He and Fred were having an animated discussion about some game called “Quidditch” that seemed to be highly important to them. Richard listened only with half an ear, eavesdropping just out of habit. He found it useful to know what happened around him.

“I think we better get changed now,” Fred said after a while. “We’re gonna reach Hogwarts soon.”

James grinned widely. “Great,” he said. “Can’t wait for it.”

Richard watched as the two boys pulled out shiny black robes from their trunks, and felt quite shabby when he dressed in his own, second hand school uniform. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did quite a bit. He should not have been forced to buy old robes. One day his clothes would be just as good, no, better, than anyone else’s. No hat or Slytherin house would stop him.

Outside of the compartment, people kept running up and down the corridor, laughing and talking loudly. Richard tried to ignore the noise as he prepared himself for leaving the train. His wand was safely tucked away in his pocket, all his books returned to the trunk, and he stared out through the window until there was an announcement: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to school separately.”

As soon as the train slowed down in sight of a small village, James and Fred joined the crowd on the corridor. Richard stayed behind, watching the other students.

As far as he could tell, the young wizards were no different from any Muggle of their age. Some of them looked excited, others as if they were already homesick, several laughed, many looked nervous and one or two even seemed to be scared, the same feelings that were connected with the start of a new term at any normal school. Richard’s face betrayed nothing of his feelings, but his heart was swollen with a great joy. He could guess their little fears, their worries of not being accepted, of failing a class, of disappointing their parents, he shared many of their hopes and wishes – friends, good marks, acceptance – but he knew that they lacked the determination he had, his patience, his intellect, his power and his vigilance. They would be just as easy to impress and maybe frightened as the students in his old school had been.

Richard forced his features into a mixture of nervousness and happiness that was visible on most faces. A moment later the train came to a halt.

The little village of Hogsmeade and the station belonging to it could have come from a postcard. In the still night of late summer it looked almost too peaceful to be real. Of course, the quiet only lasted until with a loud whistle of the engine the doors of the train opened, students spilling out onto the single platform. James and Fred pushed their way through to the doors, and Richard followed before students could block the way again. It was a very comfortable way of getting through the crowd, until they reached the exit of the station.

A giant of a man stood waiting there, lifting a big lamp.

“Hey, Hagrid!” Fred greeted him from behind, and when the giant turned to look at him, Fred moved with him, staying behind the broad back. “See ya at the feast, James!” Fred laughed. “Greet the giant squid for me,” he added, and was gone.

“Fred Weasley!” the giant grumbled in a booming voice, though he could not have seen Fred, and then returned his attention to the crowd. “Firs’ years!” he called. “Firs’ years over here! C’mon, follow me, firs’ years! Over here! Anyone left behind? Careful, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

Richard, James and the other new students followed the giant down a narrow path that led in many slopes through thick forest. There was little talk on the way, as they had to direct all their attention towards walking. The path was slippery, with malicious roots to stumble about, and Hagrid’s lamp gave scarce light. Richard looked down towards his feet to give his eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness, which helped a little.

“Jus’ round this bend here and yeh’ll get yer firs sight o’ Hogwarts,” Hagrid suddenly called over his shoulder, causing a few children to jerk. Richard felt his heart speeding up.

And there it was: A castle as from a fairytale, windows alight with thousands of little stars, sat atop a high mountain, its many towers reaching up into the sky. Beneath it there was a great lake, black in the darkness, reflecting only the stars and the lights from the castle.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called the staring students back into present. Only now Richard noticed the little fleet of boats at the shore. He followed James down the last slope and managed not to stumble. A boy and a girl followed them into their boat.

“Hello,” the girl said, smiling shyly, as she straightened out her robes.

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, before any of them could say something. “Right then – Of ye go!”

At his command, the boats began to move all by themselves over the lake that was flat like a black mirror. No breeze disturbed the calm surface as they sailed towards the great castle.

“It’s beautiful,” the girl whispered, and blushed, when the three boys turned to look at her. She was small and slender, with thick black hair and light brown skin, smooth like porcelain, appearing almost breakable. When no one else commented her words, Richard looked back to the castle and said: “You’re right.”

The girl smiled at Richard. “I’m Shila. What’s your name?”

“I’m Richard,” he replied, and suddenly the other boys became talkative as well.

“My name’s Kyle,” the strange boy contributed.

“I’m James. James Potter.”

Richard rolled his eyes inwardly, as there was a moment of awed silence. “The James Potter?” Kyle finally asked.

James looked smug for just a second. Apparently, that was the reaction he had hoped for. “Yes,” he replied. “James Potter the Second.”

“So, you’re gonna be a Gryffindor?” Shila asked.

“I guess so,” James said softly, looking up towards the castle, and even Richard could not tell whether that new, more modest tone was true or false. Most likely true, as he did not think James was that good an actor. “What about you?” James asked.

“No idea,” Kyle answered, suddenly eager to enter the conversation. “My Mom was a Hufflepuff, but I don’t think I’d fit in there.”

Shila looked down on her fragile fingers. “I hope I’ll be Ravenclaw,” she said. “My brother’s there, and my Dad was there too. Everybody expects I’ll be there too.” She looked up at Richard and asked: “What about you?”

“I hope for Ravenclaw as well,” Richard replied, sticking with the truth here. It did not really matter. Once he was at Slytherin, he would not talk to them to much anymore.

“Heads down, everyone!” yelled Hagrid. They had reached the cliff the castle of Hogwarts was build on. In front of them, the wide mouth of a dark tunnel opened. Twines of ivy forming a kind of curtain brushed their faces as they entered the cavern. The only light now came from Hagrid’s lamp at the first boat which he occupied all by himself. After a while it reached a kind of underground harbor, that had to be located almost directly beneath the castle.

“Everyone still with us?” Hagrid called, leading them up a passageway that ended right in front of the castle. With one gigantic fist he knocked three times at the huge wooden doors.

The door opened soundlessly, apparently all by itself, revealing a tall, rather young wizard waiting. Richard was not sure, but he thought he could see some scars at the man’s face, who was smiling at the new students. Something about him reminded Richard of Harry Potter: They both had the same way of standing relaxed, yet seeming alert.

“The new lot, Professor Longbottom,” said Hagrid, the giant.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” the professor replied. “Students, please follow me.”

He opened the door all the way, and the students followed him into an entrance hall so big that it reminded Richard of some kind of cathedral. Flaming torches lined the stone walls, filling the hall with dancing shadows; the ceiling was high and arched. Opposite the door a huge marble staircase led to upper floors, but much more prominent was the sober fountain in the middle of the hall. It looked as if it had been crafted from the fragments of bigger stones into the pure form of a round basin about three foots wide on a pillar little higher, but there were no corners or edges. The surface was smooth, except for the words that were driven in silver into the fringe of the basin. They seemed to glow faintly, but Richard was not able to read them from the distance. As he watched, he realized that it was not a fountain at all: instead a blue flame was burning within the wide basin.

When the students followed Professor Longbottom not to the wide door behind which the faint whisper of many voices was audible but to a smaller room, Richard stayed behind to see what the lining of the basin said. It was a memorial.

Remember with sadness all those who died,

And those who remained but for their loss cried.

Remember the loved ones, the lost ones, the pain,

The battle fought, and the innocents slain.

Never again, our pledge shall say,

And peace we shall work for every day.

On the ground of the basin, where the blue flame was burning, was written: In memoriam of the victims from the Battle of Hogwarts. The rest of the basin was filled with names.

Inside the blue flame the name “Colin Creevey,” was sparkling. As Richard turned away, the flame changed to a bright pink, now reading “Nymphadora Tonks.”

Professor Longbottom gave him a thoughtful look as Richard last entered the small room, where all the other students had gathered, before he closed the door. The students were looking around rather nervously. Some of them screamed, when suddenly a weird little man with a bell-covered hat stepped into the room right through the wall, walking in the air above their heads. He was violently swinging a walking stick and several students ducked away, which made the appearance laugh horrible. Richard managed not to flinch, but only barely.

“Peeves,” James whispered next to him, sounding gleeful.

“Out,” Professor Longbottom ordered in a stern voice that sounded used to seeing orders obeyed.

Peeves blew a lout raspberry at the waiting students, who tried to get away as he dived and vanished through the floor.

Professor Longbottom had to clap his hands to get the students’ attention back. Their excited chatter ceased. “I welcome you all to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” he called. “You have just met Peeves, the poltergeist of Hogwarts. Do not worry about him, he’s quite harmless.”

Richard noticed several students who did not at all look convinced by Professor Longbottom’s words, who went on: “The start-of-term-banquet will begin soon, but before we all feast together, you shall be sorted into your houses. I will return to bring you into the Great Hall in a minute. Please wait quietly.”

With that, he left, and a soft murmur rose up. Richard felt his hands clench into tight fist and had to make an effort to calm himself. Why was he so excited? It was nothing, really. It would not matter which house he was sorted into. And yet his heart raced as if he was about to enter a fight. Since he did not manage to calm down, he turned his efforts towards keeping up the façade and in this he did mostly succeed, though it was harder than ever. When Professor Longbottom returned, he was surrounded by an easy air of perfect calm and mild interest. He was the only one.

“Please form a line now, and follow me,” Professor Longbottom told the new students, and they left the chamber, crossed the hall – the fire within the memorial was green now – and entered the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Hundreds of students, seated along four long tables, turned towards them, eyeing them curious, as Professor Longbottom walked them up to the front side of the hall, where a fifth table stood slightly higher than the others. The teachers seated there were watching the newcomers as well.

Richard was now so nervous, he could barely appreciate the beauty of the Great Hall, of its high ceiling, matching the night sky outside, the chandeliers lighting it, and the delicacy of the pillars carrying the enchanted ceiling. It took all of his will powers not to stare back at his watchers, or tremble like little Shila in front of him. He rubbed his finger slowly against each other, to hide their twitching as they wanted to close in tight fists. In front of them, on a four-legged stool, rested the famous Sorting Hat he had read about in “Hogwarts: a History.”

James watched the hat intently, waiting for it to burst into song, but there was still a soft whisper in the hall and the hat kept quiet. Professor Longbottom had to clear his throat, and when there was finally silence, the hat moved and the rip near the brim opened like a mouth.

Much trouble has been caused in past

From quartering our school,

And yet again, you see me here,

On this old lousy stool,

About to split once and again

A hopeful generation.

I do the very best I can,

This much I have to mention,

In sending you where you belong

There’s none as good as me,

For there is nothing in your head

The Sorting Hat can’t see.

Some of you be Gryffindors,

Full of courage, daring,

And some of you be Hufflepuffs,

Faithful ones, and caring.

Some of you be Ravenclaws,

Of ready minds, and smart,

And others shall be Slytherins,

Who set themselves apart.

I am the one dividing you,

To those four noble houses,

Who worked for many centuries

All in their founders’ causes.

Alas, they always worked alone,

And you all know the end.

So now I ask you, once again,

Go on, but hand in hand.

The students burst into cheers once the hat fell silent and it bowed to its audience but James thought that it did not quite look satisfied. The next moment Professor Longbottom stepped forward and James’s attention slipped away from the hat. He kept stepping from one foot onto the other, as the Professor called up “Adlan, Jonas,” to be sorted first. Richard behind him held quite still, smiling faintly. He looked as if he did not care at all which house he was put into. Maybe, as a Muggle-born, he really didn't.

Gryffindor, James thought. He just had to end up in Gryffindor. The hat would know that he was a Gryffindor, right?

Yet he could not help but to glance over towards the Slytherins when Kyle Hang was made a Slytherin. Things had been quiet around the old house of Voldemort since the war had ended eighteen years ago. Something like normality had returned – the normality of Hogwarts. There was still feud and distaste between Gryffindors and Slytherins, but the Hufflepuffs, first lead by Professor Sprout and now by Professor Bones, had been quite willing to forgive them.

James’ father, Harry Potter himself, had helped the progress a lot when he had insisted that the infamous Professor Snape was rewarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, after the battle of Hogwarts had been over. Harry Potter had seen to it that the true story of the murder of Professor Dumbledore became public.

These days, more and more Muggleborns entered Slytherin-house, and many of these new students kept to the example of Professor Snape, worked in the shadows and worked hard. Their Head of House, Professor Slughorn, kept putting out his retirement, saying that he had finally found his vocation in leading Slytherin-house to old glory.

And then, quite suddenly, Professor Longbottom called out: “Potter, James,” and smiled at him, as he stepped forward. Whispers broke out everywhere within the Great Hall.

Gryffindor, James told himself one last time, as the hat was falling over his eyes.

“Indeed,” was all the hat said, before he called out loudly: “GRYFFINDOR!”

James smiled relieved as he went down towards the Gryffindor table. He was barely seated, when “Prasanna, Shila,” was called forward.

Shila looked very nervous when she walked to the stool, and once the hat had covered her eyes, there was a long, long silence. Finally, the hat called out “GRYFFINDOR!”

Shila pulled of the Hat, looking shaken. James had no idea why, but he cheered just as the other Gryffindors.

Richard waited patiently until Professor Longbottom finally called him up. His mind was empty, when the hat was dropped onto his head and fell into his eyes.

A soft whisper sounded in his ears. “Now, there’s an interesting mind,” the hat muttered. “Quite shrewd you are, fellow. Ambitious. You want to prove yourself, quite badly. Clever, too, not to say cunning. Gifted, oh yes… Daring as well, I may say. Plenty of courage, oh, and determination as well… So where do you belong, Richard Smith?”

Richard squirmed a little.

“Ah, you don’t like you name? No, you don’t like the ordinary. But where do I put you…”

I don’t care, Richard thought. Get it over with.

“Oh, but you do care, very much so,” the hat whispered. “And yet, surprising, you are determined to make the best of whatever you get. Isn’t it so?”

Ravenclaw, then, if I get the choice, Richard thought.

The hat was quiet for a second. “You know, you remind me of someone I have met a long time ago. His mind worked just like yours, but his decisions were different. I do not like getting burned. You could be great in Slytherin, it’s all there.”

I don’t want to be send to Slytherin, Richard thought, angry now. Get over with it, he added.

“No, you don’t want to be a Slytherin, for very Slytherin-like reasons,” the hat chuckled. “What you want is Ravenclaw, but I’m not here to give you what you want, but what you need.

And so it shall be GRYFFINDOR!”