4 Chapter 4: Heading to Hogwarts.

"Is this man wearing stockings?" I mumbled, pushing my heavy trolley across the station. I could have done without seeing a man wearing stockings and a particularly alluring pencil skirt walking around the station before being swarmed by ministry employees.

It was the first of September, the day that marked the start of a new school year in Hogwarts. All students were expected to show up at station nine and three quarters, in order to board the Hogwarts express at 11 o'clock sharp.

This was the reason why I took a cab all the way to King's cross station, in London. The reason why dozens of ministry employed Hit-wizards and aurors were stationed here. The reason why hundreds of children and their strangely dressed relatives would come here, bringing with them trolleys carrying cauldrons, owls, cats or even some rats. The reason why I have to resist to urge to gouge out my eyes after witnessing that man butcher some of my biggest turn-ons.

The reason why I was about to walk through a brick wall, doing my best not think about elephants…shit. I took a deep breath, and walked forward.

The wall enchanted with multiple muggle repellents and an extremely advanced piece of illusion felt like a gentle breeze passing through me, but for my magic. It was a refreshing if novel sensation.

The other side of the platform was strange and incredible and weird and marvellous and everything you'd expect from a place called Platform Nine and Three Quarters that would take you to a magic school called Hogwarts, in Scotland of all places.

Hundreds of families were sending their children off. Older students met with their friends in heartfelt reunions, talking about their vacations and plans for the year. The other first years were as excited as he was, hurrying inside the train in some hope that it would set off faster. Owls hooted to each other in recognition, perhaps having discussions of their own. Cats were walking by everywhere, chasing the unfortunate toad or rat a student misplaced.

Walking toward the red locomotive, my eyes roamed around the station taking notes of the characters I knew. I saw a small, round faced boy talking with an intimidating old woman with the strangest hat I've seen so far. I saw a ferret like boy with blonde, sleeked hairs talking to his father, letting him hear about it and hoping his daddy wasn't imperioused this time. There were two Indians sending off their twin daughters, and even the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement reassuring her niece.

I repressed the minute feeling of envy that attempted to worm its way into my heart, I've made peace with my lot a long time ago, this life will be no different. Nonetheless, I boarded the train without lingering much longer. Walking through the wagons, I eventually found myself in an empty compartment.

However, it didn't stay that way much longer. As soon as I was done wandlessly levitating my trunks into place, I heard someone knocking on the door.

"You may enter." I said loud enough to be heard, appreciating the courtesy my visitor displayed.

The door of my compartment was opened by a brown-haired boy with average looks. His rather formal clothes by muggle indicated that he was a pureblood, or from a wizarding household at least.

"Hello, can I sit here? The guys in my compartment brought an acromantula with them and I didn't feel like staying much longer." He hurriedly explained himself, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

"Of course." I smiled at the boy, hating giant spiders was enough to make you welcome in my compartment.

"Thanks mate, you're a life saver." Said the boy, taking a sit opposite to me. "All the other compartments are taken by this time." He added seeing my confusion.

"Oh, we should set off soon then. I'm Magnus Arran, by the way" I extended my hand to the boy, not insulting his friends was likely to make him more inclined toward taking it.

"I'm Terry Boot, nice to meet you." He shook it with a grin. See? All it takes to get along with peoples is not to insult half of their lineage.

Boot, huh, they are a pretty old pureblood house with a seat in the Wizengamot. Associating with this guy would be very advantageous.

"Someone is really bringing an acromantula to Hogwarts?" I asked, eager not to let an awkward silence settle.

"Yeah, Lee Jordan is trying to smuggle it into the castle. Everyone on the train knows that by now, so it's unlikely that he'll succeed." Said Terry, repressing a shiver as he thought of the eight-legged highly poisonous abomination.

"It's probably for the better, last time someone brought one a student died and the offender ended up in Azkaban." Though it wasn't really his fault, poor Hagrid just wanted to raise his disgusting, deadly pet in peace. "The spider escaped though, they say it started a colony in the forest near Hogwarts."

"Bloody hell…" Mumbled Boot, his face pale. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, the boy looks like Neville.

"Not fond of spiders?" I asked, he nodded solemnly.

"Anything with more than four legs shouldn't exist." He said with a surprising amount of vehemence.

"Preach, brother." I answered, I already like this guy. Well, I like him enough to hang out with him without repainting the walls with his intestines.

"Where do you think you'll be sorted?" He asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

It was a good question I spent a considerable amount of time asking myself. Weighting the pros and cons of each house, wondering about how the sorting hat would react to my foreknowledge. Freaking out about how the sorting hat would react to my foreknowledge. Being resigned to the sorting hat knowing about my foreknowledge.

"I really don't know, it depends on how exactly we are sorted." I kept my answer vague. "And you? Any preference?"

"Well, I heard someone say that we had to wrestle with a troll, but wouldn't put much stock into it." We both chuckled at that. "Honestly, I'd be fine with anything. Not Slytherin though, and I'd rather not be in Hufflepuff"

"Understandable, going to Slytherin would ruin your reputation with all the other houses. You'd also risk falling in with a bad crowd." He nodded gravely at that, the war was still fresh on everyone's mind after all. "Why Hufflepuff?" He made a face at the question.

"Well, they are not bad. It's just that Hufflepuffs are…" he struggled to fine his words.

"Agreeable, but lacking in personality, advantages and with one of the less interesting reputations among all four houses?" I proposed, noticing that the train was about to set off.

The boy nodded, but started looking at my strangely, eventually a sly smile appeared on his face. I stopped observing the increasingly distant platform, unable to ignore him much longer.

"What?" I asked, taken aback by his strange behaviour.

"You are so going to Ravenclaw." He declared, as if he figured out a riddle left behind by Merlin himself.

"Outstanding deduction Mr. Boot." I deadpanned, the boy only chuckled. We were interrupted by a commotion outside, students were running around shouting that the Boy-Who-Lived was on the train.

"Did you hear that? Harry Potter is here!" exclaimed Terry. I couldn't blame him; Harry Potter was a national icon for the British wizarding community. There were books and toys about this guy, pretty much like Captain America in Marvel.

"Well, all eleven years old in Britain have to go to Hogwarts with some exceptions. If the Boy-Who-Lived choose to study abroad, the public outrage would end up causing a diplomatic incident." I said to the overly excited wizard "So yes, Terry, Harry Potter should be here."

"You're no fun, it's Harry Potter, I heard he was raised by dragons in castle in Avalon." The kid had stars in his eyes, a broad smile on his face as he started talking about the many, many stories he read about Wizarding Jesus.

It was very sad, the guy this whole nation looked up to and idolised for something that not only couldn't remember doing, but also cost his parent's their lives. That same child was simply thrown off at his awful relatives who didn't even want him at all, left to live the life of a servant.

The boy was affection starved, naïve, gullible and literally latched on the first people who showed him a minimum of decency. He ended up being used, groomed by a certain Albus Dumbledore to fulfil that thrice damned self-fulfilling prophecy.

I could go and befriend the lad, keep him out of trouble, it would be easy for me to do so. But the question was; is it worth it?

Is it worth it to put myself on the radar of two of the most powerful wizards in the world? Is it worth it to put my own safety and prosperity at risk for someone I didn't know beyond a few meaningless words on paper?

What about Voldemort's return? Should I use that foreknowledge I was blessed with to stop his rise, putting a stopper on his plans? Was it worth it to risk my life for those people who could honestly solve their own problems if only they stopped acting like the unholy offspring of a sheep and an ostrich?

It is not.

It might sound cold and cruel and morally wrong, but it's the truth. I have no obligation to take care of every single emotionally abused orphan I'd meet, I have no obligation to help a community largely ruled by bigots and corrupt officials.

The plot, and all the characters present in it are insignificant beyond their value as a tool; an advantage I will use and abuse to ensure my prosperity and those who I actually care about.

Screw Potter, Screw the plot, Screw the greater good.

I'll do as I damn-well please.

"You're okay, mate?" Asked my new companion, finally out of things to say about the boy-who-lived.

"Sorry, I was away with the pixies." I responded, a little embarrassed that I was actually debating what approach I should take with the very person he was talking about, while also deciding the fate his community.

I don't know what he was planning to say, but he got interrupted by the doors of our compartment opening abruptly, putting both of us on edge.

"Have you seen a toad? Neville has lost one." Spoke the bossy voice of a bushy haired, rabbit toothed brunette. Behind her stood the owner of the missing pet, a round-faced boy on the verge of tears.

"Good morning to you too." I said, a wry smile on my face as I relaxed. I put my wand back into my pocket, "It is customary to knock, then wait until being bid to enter before entering an occupied room."

"No toad here." Snarled Terry, not taking the surprise very well. Though I couldn't fault him, the lapse in manners was way less pleasant when experienced personally.

"You should hurry up; or your precious toad might get eaten by some cat." Neville became even paler, making me feel a bit guilty as he stumbled away into the next compartment, closely followed by a flustered Hermione. Meh, they almost gave me a heart attack.

"Merlin, they've never heard of manners?" Complained Terry, shaking his head in disbelief. "And what kind of person brings a toad to Hogwarts?"

"A Hufflepuff?" he snickered at that.

"It'd be good for him, Hufflepuffs are nice and helpful with their housemates, good to build up confidence. He clearly need all the help he can get in that department." Said Terry, displaying a surprising amount of insight for someone who had just been scared shitless.

"What?" he asked as I looked at him in a new light.

"You're so going to Ravenclaw." I responded with a smirk.

We both laughed at that, the trip to Hogwarts was smooth sailing. With no one else to interrupt us, we ended chatting the whole time. Strangely enough, I found myself enjoying the banter regardless of my interlocutor's age.

It was already dark when we finally arrived to destination, though the voyage was too enjoyable for anyone to complain.

The giant figure of one Rubeus Hagrid, holding his trusty lantern and calling the first years like an overgrown shepherd gave whole new meaning to the function of game keeper.

We followed him through the platform into the woods before taking the boats, with four students in each one. Terry and I found ourselves sharing a boat with a pink-faced girl with pigtails and another rather pudgy blonde she appeared to be friend with, the two of them looked rather nervous, obviously anxious about the sorting ceremony nobody explained yet.

"Relax, it's unlikely that they'll have us perform anything too difficult in the first day. You shouldn't worry about fighting any troll tonight." I said cheerfully, offering my most reassuring smile.

They both smiled back, if a little shakily. It was honestly a very bad idea to keep the first years in the dark for so long, they are just children. They're all imagining the most absurd, disheartening scenarios possible just because some peoples thought it was a good prank, which I admit, it kind of is.

"I'm Magnus Arran by the way, and this gentleman right here is Terry Boot." I introduced us while Terry gave the two girls a friendly wave.

"I'm Susan Bones" Said the girl with blonde hairs plaited down her back, blushing like there was no tomorrow. It was honestly adorable, though I think it would be a transgression if I was to pinch her cheeks…I think I finally understand madam Malkin's actions back in Diagon Alley; It doesn't mean that I forgive her, my violated cheeks demand retribution.

"I'm Hannah Abbot, it's nice to meet you." Spoke her less adorable, pink-faced friend. Pigtails are ridiculous, change my mind.

Even Dudley Dursley had one!

On another note, the two of them were from very influential families. Susan's aunt was Amelia Bones herself, one of the toughest cookies in magical Britain and current head of the DMLE. She's also unofficially the only reason this country survived the political Ragnarok that was Minister Fudge's mandate. The Abbot family was a house of purebloods with a seat in the Wizengamot, less impressive but influential nonetheless. Having a good relationship with these two could come in handy in the future, I guess I'll have to use my charm…pun non-intended.

By the time we arrived before the great wooden gates, the four of us were on pleasant enough terms. Hagrid stepped forward, his colossal hand knocked three times on the gates.

The doors opened to show the intimidating form of Professor McGonagall in all of her emerald robed glory, this time she wore a pointy hat, adjusted to be slightly inclined. Her stern face impassive as she eyed all forty first years, seemingly judging them for some quality only she could see.

"I've got the firs' years, Professor." Said the gentle giant with a smile.

"Thank you, Hagrid." The witch replied tightly.

She gestured for our nervous group to follow her, and soon enough we found ourselves in the entrance hall. Barely giving us the time to settle, her gaze swept over us before she gave a curt nod.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of the school and instructor of Transfiguration, also, the head of Gryffindor house" She made a pause "Shortly, you will be summoned into the hall where you will be sorted into your respective houses. These houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You will reside with the rest of your house during your stay here. Your triumphs and good behaviour will earn your house points whereas any rule breaking and poor behaviour will be met with a loss. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will receive the house cup, a great honour, any question?"

An anxious, tall redhead with a long, dirty nose and too many freckles unsurely raised his trembling hand. I let you guess who it is, you have three tries and the first two don't count.

"How will we be sorted?" he asked "My older brothers told me I'd have to wrestle a troll, naked." naked?

"naked?" mumbled Terry beside me, biting back a laugh.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in displeasure, not quite fond of this type of humour. The students, however, were openly sniggering.

"I can assure you, Mr. Weasley, that the removal of your clothes will not be required."

The youngest weasley nodded as the woman turned and opened the large doors behind her. Revealing an even larger room filled with students sat across four tables, one for each house.

The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky above, the starry night sky in full display only made the scene more marvellous.

I made my way with the other students, Professor McGonagall guided us before another table filled with adults, who could only be the teachers. I noticed the gloomy, greasy haired bat, the gentle giant who guided us on the way here, the small half-goblin charm professor and many others.

But only two of them took my full attention, the cowardly man with a ridiculous purple turban on his head. And the eccentric old wizard with a long, silvery beard that shined as bright as the ghosts we met on our way here. He wore purple robes, half-moon glasses and had strange twinkling eyes I would rather not look at.

Quirinus Quirrell and Albus-too-many-names- Dumbledore.

One of them was a defence against the dark arts professor possessed by the spirit of Voldemort, seeking the legendary philosopher's stone to create the panacea and retrieve his former glory.

The other was the most powerful wizard alive, the second coming of merlin himself. The man who fell a dark lord, the man who knew spells so obscure they'd give Voldemort a boner. Master in so many branches of magic it would take me a while to mention all of them.

Albus Dumbledore was scary.

Not the same kind of scary as Voldemort. No, the later was a rabid dog. He'd do anything to obtain more power, no matter how idiotic it is. He's shallow, crude, an amateur compared to the powerhouse this grandfatherly paragon of the greater good represented.

Dumbledore could silence the voices of all the bigots and dark wizards in Britain, his mere existence forced them into hiding. He did not need to lift a wand, or cast a spell to be effective. He did not need to harm anyone, not that he would, to cause fear.

Voldemort was a missile, a warhead that could and would cause a horrifying amount of destruction.

Dumbledore was a nuke, he was only ever used once and the wizarding world has never been the same since.

"When I call your name, you will step forward and place the sorting hat upon your head. Once your house is announced, you will join them at their table" Explained McGonagall.

"Abbot, Hannah"

The pigtailed girl I met earlier stepped forward and put the hat on, soon after, it shouted the name of her house.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

She sighed in relief, glad that she wasn't put in Slytherin for some reason. She quickly sat with the rest of her house, who cheered wildly, they were happy to have the first student.

Now I found myself faced with one of the effects of having a name such as mine, I am always at the start of any kind of list.

"Arran, Magnus" Called the transfiguration professor.

Terry and Susan gave me encouraging looks as I walked forward, sat on the stool and finally put on the old, talking cap.

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Hey, it's madness personified, want some Swedish meatballs?

Same questions, more space between the paragraphs? less space? any problem? This chapter has been written some time ago so don't get mad that i didn't heed your advise, i will certainly rewrite it at some point, fixing any mistake you gentlemen pointed out.

Thanks for reading!