Chapter Text
Harry stood alone on the Platform at King's Cross Station, clutching the front of his jumper with one hand and tugging at his bottom lip with the other. His eyes were wide and panicked as he looked up at the signs above him.
He could see Platform 9, and Platform 10, but no 9 and 3/4. He didn't know how to find a Platform that didn't seem to even exist. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and wished his mum was still here, but she'd had an early shift at the hospital and couldn't stay any longer to see him off.
Harry took a deep breath and counted to ten, trying to calm down and will himself not to cry. He had been hoping that this would be a new start for him, a clean slate.
Harry had always been somewhat of an outcast, struggling to make friends because he was so painfully shy. He was "the weird kid", the one who was always too quiet, too abnormal, the one who trouble just seemed to follow.
It wasn't his fault that strange things always seemed to happen around him, though, and he didn’t know how to explain it to people. He'd just be sitting in class when suddenly the book he was reading would start to emit loud whistling noises, disrupting the class and earning him detention, and no amount of explaining that he didn't bring a whistle to school could get him out of it. He'd be in the library, trying to reach a book on a high shelf, and suddenly all the books on that shelf would fly off, landing around him and getting him banned from the library entirely. Once, he was trying to talk to a girl who was ignoring him while playing with her new jump rope after the holidays, and it had unraveled itself right in her hands, causing her to fall.
He could never explain how these things happened, no matter how much he tried to convince people he hadn't done anything. His mother had thought he needed help more than punishment, and had gotten him in to see multiple therapists, but they never seemed to help, or really even care.
When the woman with the funny clothes had come to his house and sat down with him and his mum, kindly and patiently explaining that he had been born with magical powers and presenting him with his Hogwarts acceptance letter, he had cried, and, thinking that it could explain why he had never seemed to fit in anywhere, had begged his mum to let him go.
She had been shocked, of course, and had needed some time to process, but ultimately decided it was best to let him go, especially since she'd been picking up extra shifts to make ends meet after his father passed away the previous year, and didn't have as much time for him and his older sister as she used to.
His mum had reluctantly followed the woman's instructions on how to take him to get his books and supplies, both of them more than half expecting nothing to happen, but when the Innkeeper, Tom, at the Leaky Cauldron had shown them how to open the doorway to Diagon Alley, they had both been shocked silent at the sight of the bricks moving on their own, and even more shocked at the existence of everything hidden behind it.
After stopping into Gringotts to exchange their Muggle money, as they had heard it be called, for Wizarding money, and being, once again, thoroughly shocked by the goblins working there, Harry had spent hours pouring through the shops, looking at everything he could have ever imagined, and plenty of things he'd never dreamed of. His mum had allowed him to take as much time as he had wanted, just happy to see her normally morose son with so much blatant joy on his sweet face.
Harry had ooh-ed and ahh-ed over beautiful broomsticks at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and had wondered what exactly Quidditch was. He excitedly pointed out bizarre ice cream flavors at Florean Fortiscue's Ice Cream Parlour, and ogled strange ingredients at the Apothecary.
When they entered Flourish and Blott’s to get his schoolbooks, Harry's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. He read title after title, each with more reverence than the last. His mum had allowed Harry to choose quite a few books beyond what the list called for, always wanting to encourage Harry's love of learning.
He chose his books carefully, picking out ones that he thought sounded the most interesting, and grabbed a copy of Hogwarts, A History last minute, desperate to learn everything he could about the new, mysterious school he would soon be heading to.
It was the best day Harry had ever had, but it was getting his wand that had ended up being one of the most terrifying and exhilarating moments of his life. He would never forget it.
They had stepped into the dimly lit wand shop, and were greeted by an elderly man with somewhat wild eyes and even wilder hair. The man didn't introduce himself, but just raised an eyebrow at Harry and asked, "Muggleborn, are you?"
Harry had nodded timidly, and the Shopkeeper, who he assumed was named Ollivander, if the name of the shop was anything to go by, just nodded once, and then proceeded to pull wand after wand off the shelf for Harry to try.
His heart had pounded harder and harder after each failed attempt, suddenly terrified that there had been a huge mistake and he wasn't a wizard at all. After his seventh wand did nothing but emit a few lackluster sparks, he had set it gently back down and his eyes filled with tears. He had looked helplessly up at his mum, who wanted desperately to reassure her son, but being so out of her depth in this situation, didn't know how.
Ollivander had stared at Harry for a few moments, studying him, before turning and slowly pulling yet another wand from one of the shelves behind him. "Let's try this one," he had said, thrumming his fingers on the box. "Willow, unicorn hair core, 14 1/4", exceptionally swishy," he said, presenting the open box to Harry.
The wand was lovely; long and slender with what appeared to be hand carved vines wrapped around the entire length of it. Harry had hesitated, afraid of another failure, but he took a steadying breath and grasped the wand, lifting it carefully from its box.
Immediately, warmth had spread up his fingers and through his arm, and the tip of the wand emitted a brilliant blue glow, that grew brighter with each passing moment until he had to squeeze his eyes shut and turn away from it.
When the light faded, Harry had looked back at the shopkeeper with wide eyes. Ollivander was already looking at Harry with a little half smile on his face. "Interesting match," he said lowly.
"It is?" Harry had asked, still feeling a bit timid.
"It is," the man confirmed. He stepped closer to package the wand up for Harry. "Willow is a fascinating wood. Quite picky, you know, and fiercely loyal once matched. It must sense great potential in you, my boy, potential you can't quite see in yourself."
Harry had looked down at his feet, his cheeks slightly pink. He never thought he was particularly special or talented, but if this wand had chosen him, maybe there was something in him that he couldn't see.
Ollivander had held the boxed up wand out to Harry, but when he went to take it, Ollivander held tight to it until Harry looked back up at him in confusion. "This wand will suit you well, young man. He who has farthest to travel will go fastest with willow."
Ollivander then released the wand, giving Harry one last long look before nodding once more and turning back to what he was doing when they walked in.
"Thank you, sir," Harry had called back softly as they left the shop.
After a long, exhausting day of shopping, Harry and his mum had both had been loaded down with purchases, but one final store grabbed Harry's attention. Magical Menagerie, it read, and Harry had begged his mum to go inside just one last shop. She had quickly agreed, wanting to keep Harry's spirits up after the near disaster in the wand shop.
The shop was a cacophony of different sounds, so great in number and volume that it was impossible to decipher them all, yet Harry had gasped so loud upon entering that it could be heard even over the din of creatures. His mum looked over at him in concern, but she only saw him standing stock still, hands over his mouth while he tried to take in everything at once.
"Go on, darling, have a look around," his mum had gently nudged him. He broke out of his trance and immediately headed in the direction of what he thought were cats, but quickly realized they couldn't be. They were massive, for one, with huge pointed ears and what looked like a lion's tail. He walked up to one and pressed his hand to the glass in awe. The creature flicked its tail in his direction, but quickly returned to its bath.
Harry had wandered around the store for a while, mentally cataloging every creature he saw, making note to look them up later in the copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them he had gotten at Flourish and Blott’s.
He had been about ready to tell him mum they could go, when an absolutely gorgeous Tawny owl, who was perched by the cash register, caught his eye. She was quite small compared to the rest of the owls on display, with big amber colored eyes and fluffy, coppery feathers that fluffed out even more every time she moved. When she noticed him staring, she gave a little hoot in his direction, and his mum had known, even before Harry had turned to her with enormous green eyes, shining and silently begging, that she was going to buy him that owl.
They had left Diagon Alley that day with quite a few extra packages containing owl supplies, a lovely gilded golden cage, and a small little owl riding on Harry's shoulder, nipping gently at his ear while he giggled softly.
Harry had never been happier than he had been when they finally left that day, but now here he was, stood on this platform, alone and confused, trying to figure out how he had gotten it so wrong.
It must be a prank, he thought, some kind of elaborate prank, his heart cracked at the thought.
Blinking his eyes open, he looked at the beautiful little Tawny owl he got just last week and had named Hazel, sitting in her cage quietly, watching him with soft eyes. He slipped his finger between the bars, stroking her beak softly. Taking a deep breath and trying to blink away his tears, he grabbed his trunk, ready to go find an adult so he could call his mum to come get him.
He spun around, eyes planted firmly on the ground, and he immediately bumped hard right into another body, sending him stumbling backwards, a loud, "Oops!" slipping from his lips. Before he could fall, a hand grasped his upper arm firmly, steadying him.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was..." Harry trailed off, breath catching in his throat when he finally looked up, eyes meeting the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen.
"Hi," the owner of the blue eyes said cheerfully, his eyes crinkling in the corners with the force of his grin. "No harm done, mate, I'm Louis," the boy said in a thick Yorkshire accent, sticking his hand out for Harry to shake.
Harry blinked, taking in the boy in front of him. He was beautiful. He looked around Harry's own age, a little taller than Harry was. He had caramel colored hair that swept softly across his forehead and a grin on his face that looked like it was beaming sunshine directly at Harry. The bright blue of his eyes swirled like the ocean, complimenting his golden brown skin, which was clearly tanned from the unusually warm summer they’d had.
When Harry remained silent for too long, the boy's smile dimmed and he quirked a brow at Harry. "You alright, Curly? Didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked before gently tugging at one of Harry's out of control curls.
Harry flushed hot at the nickname and at making a fool out of himself, twice, in front of this boy. Harry finally grasped the boys' - Louis' - hand, shook his head and mumbled "Sorry, I'm fine," but he looked down at the ground feeling anything but fine, remembering his predicament. " 'm Harry."
"Well, Harold, it's nice to meet you," Louis said cheerfully, his eyes suddenly catching on Harry's owl, and his grin widened even more. "Are you going to Hogwarts, then?" Louis asked in a lower voice.
Harry's eyes snapped up to his, his jaw dropping open and too shocked to even tell Louis that his name wasn't Harold.
"How did you...it's actually real?" Harry whispered the last part.
Louis laughed brightly. "'Course it's real! Me mum and dad," Louis gestured behind him to a man and woman who were chatting with a few other adults, "they both went. Been waiting to go my whole life. I can't wait! You must be a First Year like me. Where are your parents?" Louis asked, looking around like Harry's parents were just hiding somewhere.
"Um, s-she..." Harry stuttered, eyes welling up again. He squeezed them shut tightly, willing the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger, no matter how friendly he seemed.
"She had to go to work, she works at a hospital back home, and only had time to drop me off. But I can't find where I'm supposed to go," Harry said slowly, voice wobbling slightly.
Louis leaned forward and gave Harry a quick hug, shocking Harry at how familiar Louis already seemed. "You must have Muggle parents, right?" Louis asked.
Harry recognized the strange word from when the witch who gave him his Hogwarts letter had visited him, and a few people in Diagon Alley had spoken it as well. He nodded.
Louis just hugged Harry again. "That's tough that your mum had to leave so fast, Curly, but don't be sad. You can come through with me, I'll help you." He grinned at Harry, then grabbed Harry's hand before he could respond.
Louis grabbed the handle of Harry's trunk with his other hand and pulled it along beside them, dragging Harry over to his parents. "Mum! Dad!" Louis called loudly, and both adults turned towards him, waving to the people they had been chatting with.
As they made their way over, Harry could see how much the woman looked like Louis, but the man didn't resemble him at all.
"Mum, this is Harry, it's his first year, too, and his mum had to go back to work and couldn't stay," Louis explained.
"Hello, darling," the woman said to Harry, smiling warmly at him, "I'm Jay, and this is Mark, Louis' father. Would you like us to help you get onto the platform? Your first time can be a bit scary," she said kindly, and Harry immediately felt comfortable with her, nodding shyly in response.
"Louis, your father and I will go first, then you can follow behind us with Harry. Stay close to each other, and remember to walk a bit quickly. Close your eyes if you get scared, but don't stop," she explained, and Louis rolled his eyes.
"Yes, mum, I remember," Louis said, and his mother smiled at him. Harry went to thank them both, but noticed the man wasn't anywhere to be seen. Jay then walked briskly towards the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10, and Harry gripped Louis' arm tightly, his eyes going wide as she seemed to vanish into the wall.
He turned to look at Louis who was grinning at him. It eased Harry's fear a bit to see how unafraid Louis seemed to be. "Come on then, Curly, we better hurry or mum'll have a bird. Do you trust me?" Louis asked locking eyes with Harry, and Harry could only nod silently.
Louis took his hand again and started jogging towards the barrier. Harry's breathing quickened, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, waiting for the inevitable crash, but it never came. He soon realized they had stopped, and when he opened his eyes, he was staring at a huge black and scarlet train, with the words 'Hogwarts Express' emblazoned on the front.
Harry let out a loud laugh, and turned to Louis, grinning. Louis' smile softened when he caught Harry's eye, and then Harry felt a finger poking his cheek, right in his deeper left dimple. Harry cheeks warmed under the touch, and Louis pulled away. "Come on," he said. "We can sit together on the train."
He pulled Harry towards the train, hugging his parents goodbye before boarding. Louis' mum surprised Harry by giving him a goodbye hug as well, but he hugged her back tightly and said a quiet thank you for helping him before following Louis onto the train, stowing his trunk away and sitting across from him in one of the empty compartments.
"How long until we get there?" Harry asked after Louis had bought a small mountain of sweets off the Trolley Witch.
"It'll be a few hours," Louis said around a mouthful of some type of sweet Harry had never seen before. Louis offered some to Harry, who nodded and examined the wrappers. "If you shut the compartment door you can let your owl out, she might want to stretch her wings."
Harry perked up at that and rushed over to close the door. He opened Hazel's cage, cooing at her before reaching inside and stroking her soft feathers. She gave a soft hoot and nipped his finger affectionately before stepping gracefully out of the cage. She ruffled her feathers, settling in on Harry's knee.
"She's gorgeous," Louis said, offering her a bit of a pumpkin pasty. She ate it daintily and Louis giggled.
“Thank you," Harry said proudly. "Her name is Hazel. The lady who came and explained the school to us recommended that my mum get me an owl so it would be easier to communicate with each other while I was away, since the school apparently doesn't have telephones," Harry explained.
Louis looked at him curiously, "What's a fellytone?" he asked, and Harry laughed before realizing that Louis was serious.
"Oh, um, it's a device people without magic use to talk to each other or send messages to each other from far away," he explained the best he could, and Louis' face lit up with excitement.
"Oh! It's a Muggle contraption! How clever," he said, impressed, and Harry laughed again, nodding his agreement.
"So, what do you know about where we're going?" Louis asked after they had demolished the pile of sweets.
Harry shrugged. "A fair bit. I've read through some of the extra books my mum let me get. I understand that we'll be learning different types of magic, and that there will be a sorting into different Houses when we get there, but I don't know which one I'll be in," Harry admitted shyly.
Louis quirked a crooked grin at him. "The sorting is what I'm most excited for! I'll probably be in Slytherin, both of my parents were. Maybe you'll be in Slytherin with me!" Louis said brightly, and Harry bit his lip.
Honestly, what he had read about Slytherin House had scared him a bit, especially coming from a non-magical family. He'd read a good deal about the war, but he had no idea how many prejudices against Muggles and Muggleborns still existed. He nodded anyway, figuring if he was with Louis, he'd be alright.
"What if we're in different Houses?" Harry asked quietly.
Louis raised his eyebrows. "We won't be," he waved Harry off, "and even if we are, it doesn't matter, we can still be friends. People aren't as into the whole 'House separation' thing as they were before, mum says."
Harry grinned at that, feeling better already, and they passed the remaining train ride sharing sweets and stories from home. While Harry was fascinated by everything magical, Louis seemed equally interested in how Muggles lived without magic. It made Harry feel quite a bit better knowing he wasn't the only one who didn't know much about the other side of things.
When they finally arrived at the school and stepped off the train, they both followed the loud voice calling for First Years and boarded one of the small boats lined up for them.
Once they had been rowed across the lake by an absolutely enormous man who had introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid, they found themselves gathered in a stone hall, awaiting further instruction.
Harry couldn't help looking around, taking in everything around him, having never seen anything like this in his life. It was massive, beautiful and wonderful, and if he was a little intimidated, no one but him needed to know.
"Good evening, new students!" a new voice with a rather posh accent called out.
Harry looked up, and saw that a very tall man with white-blonde hair - which he had pulled back into a short ponytail - and piercing grey eyes had appeared at the front of the small room. The talking voices quieted to hushed whispers before going completely silent.
"Welcome to Hogwarts! My name is Professor Malfoy, I am the Potions Master here at Hogwarts, as well as the head of Slytherin House."
Beside him, Louis shot Harry an excited look and squeezed his hand.
"In a few moments, you will enter the Great Hall and be sorted into your Houses. When these doors open, you will follow me to the front of the room and wait for your name to be called. Once you have been sorted, you will please join your House table for the feast. Now, form a single file line behind me."
Students immediately scrambled into place, anticipation thrumming through the room as they waited to be let into the castle.
Finally, the doors opened and Harry gasped loudly at seeing the Great Hall. It was beautiful, students all seated at four long tables that ran up the length of the room, with a fifth table placed horizontally at the front where the professors were sat. Thousands of candles were floating everywhere, and above them, the ceiling looked exactly like the night sky outside, Harry could even spot a few constellations in their proper positions.
"Wow," Harry whispered, mostly to himself, but Louis looked over and grinned at him.
"I know! It's so cool!" he said enthusiastically.
When the line stopped moving, Harry noticed that front and center before them was a small stool with a horribly old and tattered hat sitting on top of it. A spark of recognition zipped through him, as he remembered reading a mention of how the Sorting Ceremony was performed, but he had mostly skipped that part, eager to read about the different Houses.
Harry was shocked when he heard the hat begin to recite a poem through what appeared to be a rip near the brim, not understanding how a hat could be talking at all. He missed most of the poem in his shocked state, but recovered in time to hear Professor Malfoy clear his throat and unroll a piece of parchment.
"When I call your name, please step forward and take a seat," he said, and then read the first name from the list. "Arrow, Ryan!"
A large boy with dirty blonde hair approached the stool, looking quite confident as he took a seat. Professor Malfoy placed the hat on the boys' head. "Slytherin!" it quickly called out to the room. Applause erupted, mostly from the table at the far left, as Ryan Arrow ran over and sat down at what must be the Slytherin table.
It continued like that, Professor Malfoy reading down the list, some names being sorted before the hat scarcely touched their head, like "Payne, Liam", who was placed very quickly into Gryffindor, some taking a bit longer to place, like "Malik, Zayn", who ultimately ended up in Ravenclaw.
As Professor Malfoy went down the list, Harry grew more and more nervous, until he was fidgeting so much that Louis looked over at him and raised his eyebrows.
"Tomlinson, Louis," Professor Malfoy called out clearly.
"Good luck," Harry mumbled out quickly, and Louis winked at him before he went up.
Louis took his seat on the stool and was quickly sorted into "Slytherin!"
Harry clapped loudly with everyone else, grinning at Louis before he heard, "Styles, Harry," being called. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he couldn't hear anything else as he slowly made his way up to the front. He looked nervously up at the professor, who smiled encouragingly at him and nodded his head. Harry sat down and felt the hat get placed on his head.
Interesting, very interesting.
Harry jumped when he heard a tiny voice in his ear before realizing it was the hat, and he got a mild sense of deja vu, his mind momentarily drifting back to the wand shop and the strange shopkeeper.
I could do quite a lot with you, I think. So much potential, the voice said. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the voice.
Quite a sharp mind, you've got, incredibly open; same for your heart, I see, but the question is where to put you?
Harry sat quietly for what felt like ages, and he began to hear whispers around him. Opening his eyes, he saw the other students were staring and whispering, some were pointing at him. Even Professor Malfoy was looking at him curiously, his eyebrows raised in interest.
Harry began to panic. Something is wrong, why is it taking so long? Don't I belong anywhere? Oh God, they're going to send me home, I don't belong here, there's been a terrible mistake.
His thoughts were whirling through his head faster than he could keep up, but they were halted when he heard the tiny voice again, laughing lightly.
I think not, my boy, there are no mistakes here, definitely not. Plenty of kindness, though, and a deep desire to be accepted...That's it, I do think that you'd do best in...
"Hufflepuff!" The hat called out to the room, and Harry released the breath he was holding.
He stood up on shaky legs, and made his way over to the Hufflepuff table before he realized people weren't clapping like they had for everyone else. Glancing over at Louis' table and catching his eye, Louis grinned and sent him a thumbs up, but Harry noticed that all the students around Louis were sending him sneering, disgusted looks, and his heart sank.
He sat down and stared at his plate until the sorting finally ended with "Horan, Niall" being placed with him in Hufflepuff. He could hear the Irish lad's laughter loudly over the sound of cheering.
Harry still just stared at his plate during Headmistress McGonagall's welcome speech, and he barely tasted his food. People kept shooting him glances during the feast, most not even trying to be subtle, and not a single person talked to him.
Harry felt heartbroken. He had hoped coming here would be a fresh start, that he would finally manage to make friends, but now that seemed once again impossible. He was a spectacle, a freak, again, and he just wanted to get to his dorm and cry in private.
Soon enough, the feast ended, and he followed the Hufflepuff Prefect out of the Great Hall with the rest of the Hufflepuff First Years. They walked with the Slytherin students down the hall and downstairs before he looked up and caught Louis' eye.
Louis hurried over and bumped shoulders with Harry. "Way to go, Curly, a genuine hatstall! Quite a long one, too. Haven't heard of that happening since old McGonagall got sorted. You might have even topped her time!"
Louis sounded impressed and excited, but Harry just looked at him and frowned. He didn't know what a hatstall was, but maybe that's why everyone had acted so strange. Why couldn't he just be normal? Louis must have taken Harry's silence as a dismissal, though, because his smile dimmed and he didn't say any more.
They walked with the Slytherins for a bit longer, until the stairs split off again, the Slytherins going left towards another staircase, and the Hufflepuffs going right down a sloping corridor.
"See you around Curly," Louis said quietly, waving at him before he turned and followed his house down to the Dungeons. Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, but kept it together long enough to learn how to get into his common room and then his dorm.
There were three giant four-poster beds in his room, along with quite a few hanging plants scattered about, bright yellow bed hangings, and cozy patchwork quilts that looked far more cheerful and inviting than they had any right to. Harry found his trunk at the foot of what must be his bed, and he climbed in, pulling the drapings shut, ignoring the chattering of Niall and his other dorm mate, Andrew Bell.
The room had long gone quiet, but Harry laid awake for hours, thinking of the time he spent with Louis on the train. He had had more fun than he ever had in his life this past week, especially with Louis. He was funny and sharp-witted and bright, brighter than the sun. He didn't need someone like Harry holding him back when he was so obviously meant to shine. Resolve strengthening, he vowed to not take Louis down with him, not when Harry was clearly already some kind of social pariah, unable to fit in anywhere.
At that thought, he finally allowed the tears to fall, mourning the abrupt loss of what he had hoped would be his fresh start, the loss of possible friendships that would now never come to fruition, and most of all, the loss of the best person he had probably ever met until sleep finally overtook him.