Harry was surprised it took so long for a wizarding family to come by and go through the portal to the Hogwarts' Express. Hagrid hadn't told him how to get to it, only that he had to take King's Cross Platform 9 ¾. If they called it Platform 9 1/2, he may have figured it out, but as it was, he was nervous, until he saw a large redheaded family come through, pushing carts much like his own, then disappear through the wall.

Harry barely waited a second before he rushed right after them, though he closed his eyes at the last second when he thought he would crash into the wall. He was much relieved when he passed right through and on to the hidden train platform.

The Hogwarts' Express was an amazing train, from a time long past. Its name was etched upon the side in gilded bronze, and the train itself was a deep scarlet color. The platform was filled with families, and Harry as startled by the sheer amount of people that must have all been witches and wizard.

Harry wondered how they all got there; since he didn't see any of them go through the portal he just came through. It made him giddy when he could actually say that the answer was 'magic'. He was amazed that such a place could be hidden from the muggles, especially when they walked by with cages with owls in them. Being able to hide a train, with its own set of tracks that went wherever, inside of one of the busiest places in London… the idea was incredible, and he wouldn't have though such a thing was possible a week ago.

There was a clock on the wall that read five minutes to eleven, so Harry quickly pulled his wheeled trunk onto the train, looking to find the first compartment with a free spot. Compartment after compartment was full though, of friends reuniting, and old acquaintances meeting up for the first time in three months. The hallway was clogged too, of people running back and forth. No one paid Harry much mind, he was just a scrawny kid with tapped up glasses, dragging a trunk.

He did eventually find a compartment that wasn't completely full. There was actually only one person in it - a girl. She had hair the color of straw, and black-frame glasses that actually looked stylish, as opposed to Harry's old round ones. Her attention was focused solely on the book in her hands, and she didn't even notice Harry until he spoke.

"Mind if I sit here?" Harry asked nervously. "Most others are full."

The girl looked up, instinctively putting a book mark in pages. "Sure. First Year?" the girl asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "You?"

"Same. I'm Daphne Greengrass," she said, standing up from her seat. Harry was embarrassed to say that the girl was a few inches taller than him.

"Harry Potter," he responded in kind, attempting to store his trunk in the overhead compartment, and struggling.

"Here, let me help," the girl said, coming over and pushing the trunk into place.

"Thanks," Harry said, looking around awkwardly. He decided to sit down across from the girl, who he noticed didn't even attempt to look at his scar or stare at him like all the others he had met. "So, uh, you know a lot about Hogwarts?"

"As much as any other first year, I guess," the girl said. "Both my parents were in Slytherin, so they told me what to expect."

"I see. I only learned I was a wizard when I got my Hogwarts letter," Harry said with a frown. "I live with my aunt and uncle… and they hate magic, so they never told me what I was. But they're the only family I've got, so I'm kind of stuck with them… I've been trying to read everything I can, but there's just so much I never knew about."

"Hmm," the girl replied. "My family has been pureblood for as long as records have been kept, so I should be able to help with any question you have, I suppose."

Harry nodded his thanks. "I'm just curious… how far behind am I going to be? I don't know any magic. I barely know the subjects that are taught at Hogwarts. Are there even any other schools? What do we do once we've finished? I don't even know what my parents did."

"One question at a time," The girl laughed. She stood up real quick to shut the door, as the train had just started to leave. Harry couldn't help but notice that she was pretty. "I know some kids go to muggle schools before they go to Hogwarts. Some purebloods send their children as well, though mostly ones who don't really put stock in our culture. Otherwise the parents teach their kids what they need to know. My mom taught me maths, writing skills, important history, and basic magical theory, I guess. Magic develops as we grow older, so there's a reason Hogwarts starts at age eleven. I learned a few spells though. I can create light with my wand, which is useful for late night reading, tie my shoes, iron my clothes, that sort of thing. Minor stuff."

"I was told that you can't use magic outside of school, not until you're of age."

"If you live in a wizarding household, the Ministry can't tell if it's the parents or a child casting the magic, though it is a loophole in the law. It's tough luck for the Muggleborn, since the law was passed not all that long ago, and it was supposed to help them. If no one is allowed to perform magic during the summer, then the hope is that purebloods and Muggleborns would be on the same level, to make them feel more at home in our world. "

"That's annoying," Harry admitted.

"In a way, it's to prevent accidents. Casting new spells without supervision can end in disaster."

"I suppose. My uncle would probably laugh if I blew myself up," Harry said. "You mentioned purebloods before… My mother was a Muggleborn witch and my father a pureblood wizard, does that make me a halfblood when compared to someone with an actual muggle mother and wizard father? I can't figure out all the intricacies…

"There's no real rule. Some consider a pureblood anyone whose magical lineage can be traced back seven generations, while some think three is enough, as long as you have no living muggle ancestors. Others think anyone born of a witch and a wizard is enough. You'll find a lot of families take a lot of pride in their ancestry, while others don't."

"What do you think?" Harry asked curiously.

"You defeated the Dark Lord, so I don't think your blood really matters. It's what we do that define who we are, not who our great-great-great-grandfather was."

"And if I didn't defeat him?"

Daphne shrugged. "I guess technically you'd be a first generation pureblood, but you'd probably get laughed at if you called yourself that. Don't worry yourself about it though. You can't change how you were born. All the uppity purebloods care about is that you embrace your magical side, rather than your muggle. As for your other questions…. Hogwarts is the largest and most prestigious school in England. There are a few smaller ones, and by smaller I mean like twenty times smaller. There are other schools in other countries, of course. I know the French have a school nearly as large as Hogwarts. As for what adult witches and wizards do… there are a lot of options. My father and grandfather both play Quidditch professionally. Dad is the keeper for the Tornados, and granddad is a beater for Portree."

"Wow, how old is your granddad?" Harry asked in surprise. He couldn't picture an old guy playing a sport professionally.

"Fifty-five," Daphne replied with a laugh. "Dad is thirty-four. Anyways, there's a lot to do after Hogwarts. Some people just go into politics, relying on their families built up investments to sustain them. Most people work though, whether it's making our clothes or harvesting potion ingredients, or selling books. A lot of people work for the Ministry as well –"

"What exactly does the Ministry do? It's the second time you mentioned them."

"Oh, they're our government. Their main purpose is to keep our existence secret from the Muggles. There are a dozen different departments within, maybe more. There's Aurors and Unspeakables and Obliviators, and then there's desk jobs like the people who track underage magic, or control the transportation networks."

"Hmm, I guess there is quite a lot then," Harry admitted.

"You did have one last question, though I won't pretend to be an expert on your family. I know your dad played Quidditch for a year before joining the Aurors for the war. I don't know what your mother did."

"Thank you. That's more than anyone's told me," Harry said honestly. "My Aunt and Uncle won't even let me say the word 'magic' in the house."

Daphne shrugged. "Best to ask questions now then to spend the next seven years at Hogwarts not knowing. A little bit of knowledge can go a long way."

They drifted off into silence so Daphne just picked up her book and started reading. Harry would feel guilty if he kept pestering her with questions, so he just gazed out the window instead. He had a lot to think about with his new knowledge.

A few people came by. The first was an odd boy who had lost his toad, and then there was a bushy haired girl who was ever-so-excited to meet Harry Potter, but was also looking for the odd boy's toad. He wasn't sure why anyone would willingly have a toad, not when owls are so awesome.

Then the lunch trolley came. Harry picked out a bunch of snacks recommended by Daphne, and shared them with her, though she didn't eat much. She explained that Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans really meant every flavor, and that collecting the right set of chocolate frog cards could be redeemed for a prize, anything from a family trip to a racing broom. There were a dozen other candies, all crazier than the last, and he wasn't sure why anyone would want a blood pop or a cockroach cluster.

Harry found himself enjoying Daphne's presence, even as she went from bouts of talkativeness to silence. He'd never had any friends growing up, and the chance to talk to another kid his age without the threat of Dudley looming over him was nice.

The girl was a bit of a nerd though. And by a bit, he meant a huge one. The way she blew the hair out of her face subconsciously as she read was a dead giveaway. Also, the way she'd have to keep adjusting her glasses slightly, that was something Harry could relate too. Harry used to try his best in school, until the papers went home and he got better grades than Dudley, and his relatives were actually mad at him for doing well in school. Hell, she was practically a female version Harry, except a little taller and with budding breasts.

Harry was knocked out of his thought process by the arrival of another person. Actually, it was a group of three people; two large boys (though not as large as Dudley) and a smaller boy with blond hair. Harry recognized him as the kid from Madam Malkin's robe shop in Diagon Alley.

"I heard Harry Potter is this compartment," the boy said, looking at the two kids sitting down. "Hello, Greengrass."

"Malfoy," Daphne acknowledged.

"You know him?" Harry asked.

"Our parents run in the same social circle," the girl explained.

Draco nodded. "I don't think we properly introduced ourselves. I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Crabbe and Goyle. You'll find that there are some families out there that are better than others, and there are those that would ignore their heritage and forsake what it means to be a wizard."

"Daphne has been telling me as much," Harry said, shaking Draco's hand.

"She's got a good mind," Draco said. "Intelligence is a highly valued gift. With it, you can go far. My advice to you is to not let the narrow-mindedness of the other students hinder your own progress. My grandfather told that to my father when he went to Hogwarts, and now he's a trusted advisor to the Minister himself."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied.

Draco nodded again. "I'll see you in a few hours then. Hopefully in the Slytherin common room."

The boy left with his entourage, leaving Daphne and Harry to contemplate the mysteries of the universe in silence.

"So, you think you're going to be in Slytherin?" Harry asked after a few minutes.

"Probably," the girl answered. "Both my parents were in Slytherin, and while that doesn't guarantee that I will be as well, there's a good chance. What about you? Do you have a house preference?"

"I grew up without my parents, so I don't see how I would get in the same house as they were, except by chance," Harry said reasonably. "I don't want to be in Slytherin, no offense, since the man who killed them, and tried to kill me, was one."

"Understandable," Daphne acknowledged. "The house does have a bad recent history."

"So, you and Draco know each other already? Are you friends?"

"Eh, I suppose. Him and his two friends, and a couple others in our year… I don't really like him, but you don't have to like him to be friendly with him. I've met his father though, and Draco is going to act exactly like him. His father is a powerful man, the kind who loves doing favors to cash one out somewhere in the future. Draco will try and do the same thing, and it can't hurt to have an influential friend."

"I get what you're trying to say. It's good to have options, I guess. Plenty of people would be willing to get into my good graces, probably. Stupid nickname."

"You're one of the most famous people in the wizarding world," Daphne said. It was the first time that she had acknowledged his fame. "No one will blink an eye if you use that to your advantage."

"I know. It just feels like I didn't really do anything. I was probably just laying there, crying, and You-know-who did all the rest, and then I'm famous for having my parents killed."

Daphne nodded in understanding, though she opted to not say anything. She didn't know Harry well enough to mark a smart comment, and she didn't want to come off as condescending or inconsiderate.

The train ride lasted into the afternoon. The sun was starting to set, castling long shadows on the train. They disembarked at the Hogsmeade station, which was in the only wizarding town in the country.

Hagrid greeted Harry, which pleased him. Harry was glad to have made it this far, and that his life had taken such a turn for the better. He even met a friend, though he wondered if Daphne would consider him as such.

The half-giant led the first years to a bunch of boats, to cross the lake, while the rest of the students rode carriages up to the school. There were four students to a boat, and Harry and Daphne found themselves with a lanky red haired boy, and a lanky black boy. They didn't say much as the boats raced across the lake by magic. There were rumors of a giant squid living in there, but no matter how much Harry looked, he didn't see a trace.

There were trees growing on the banks of the lake, and Hagrid told everyone that Hogwarts would come into view at any second. When the ancient castle finally did, it took Harry's breathe away.

The castle was huge, and it looked like it was built at random. Turrets sprouted out of turrets, and bridges led to nowhere. There were skinny towers that reached to the stars, and wide towers that were somehow lower than the walls that connected to it. It was all very magical looking, and Harry was already in love with the place.

The castle loomed overhead, larger than any building Harry had seen, even larger than many of the buildings in London. They continued to the castle, and Harry was surprised when the boats went right underneath, through some hanging vines, and right into an underground cavern, where they beached themselves on the shore.

The first-years crawled out of the boats, and Harry extended his hand to Daphne to help her out when he saw the boat starting to wobble, and she took it gratefully before dropping it once they were on sturdy ground.

The torches on the wall cast long shadows over the students as Hagrid walked up towards an oaken double door that Harry hadn't noticed on first glance. The gamekeeper walked up and knocked three slow knocks, and the doors opened almost immediately.

A tall witch (though much shorter than Hagrid) stood at the door. She wore a wide brimmed witch's hat overtop of her black hair, and a pair of spectacles sat on her face. Harry had a distinct impression that she was not one to cross.

"Hello, Hagrid," the witched greeted.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said, swooping his arm backwards to show the assembled kids behind him.

"Thank you," the professor said. "Follow me, and we will get you sorted into your houses."

McGonagall walked through the door, beckoning them to follow her.

"There are four houses here at Hogwarts. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house will be like your second home. You will spend much of your free time in your common rooms. Your triumphs will earn your house points, and your missteps will result in their loss. I hope you all will be a credit to your house. I suggest you all smarten up, since the sorting ceremony will be in front of your peers. Wait here while I check to see if the Hall is ready."

McGonagall left through another set of doors, while the first-years waited. They heard a brief cacophony of noise before it disappeared when the door closed.

No one said anything for a few minutes. But then, a blond hair boy spoke up. "So, uh, does anyone know how we are sorted?"

"My brother Fred says we have to wrestle a troll," the red hair boy who went on the boat with Harry said.

"That's bullshit," another kid said. "I heard you have to conjure an ice sculpture of Merlin."

A few kids laughed. "You can't conjure an ice sculpture of Merlin."

"Well to be fair, you can't conjure anything."

There was light banter after that, but Harry could tell that many of the first-years were nervous, himself included. They didn't know how they got sorted, or if they did, they kept that knowledge to themselves. There was some unspoken rule that every student that went to Hogwarts had to sweat how they get sorted, which created many fantastical ideas about what was to come. It was just a small part of the mystique of Hogwarts.

It was a tense five minutes before the doors opened once more, with McGonagall coming in.

"If you will follow me, we will begin the sorting ceremony. You will line up in front of the high table."

The Great Hall was just that - great. Massive. It was the largest room Harry had ever been in, even bigger than his old school's auditorium. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky, and there were millions of stars shining down. They were large iron braziers spaced evenly around the room, with great banners depicting a lion, eagle, snake, and badger, hung in between them.

And then there were the students themselves; five hundred witches and wizards, or somewhere thereabouts, and a dozen teachers as well. There were four great tables that ran the length of the room, one for each house, and then one table raised a few steps above in front of them, where all the teachers sat, looking down on the students. A great grey-bearded wizard sat in the middle of them, on a throne of gold. Harry couldn't help but picture an old king lording over his subjects, with the way the room was laid out.

Harry was lined up with the other students, in no particular order. He could feel the entire hall's eyes upon him, and he had never been more nervous in his entire life. The stern looking professor stood at the head of the column of students and placed a tattered old hat onto an equally tattered old stool. The hat suddenly broke into the most ridiculous song Harry had ever heard, but it did inform them of each house's defining traits, and that the hat would be sorting them based on their personality. Or at least that's what Harry got out of it.

Once the hat was done, Professor McGonagall spoke up again. "When I read your name, you will come sit on this stool and put the Sorting Hat on your head. When it comes to a decision, you will then take a seat at your new house table, and then wait for the rest of your peers to get sorted."

Harry wasn't sure what he expected, what with people talking about fighting trolls and slaying dragons, but just putting a talking hat on seemed sort of… easy. But that didn't stop Harry from worrying about what would happen if the hat refused to put him in a house, and that he was forced to go back and live with the Dursley's… honestly he'd probably just run away and become a street urchin instead of going back there.

The professor started calling off names. Compared to the amount of people already at the tables, and the amount of first-year's name's being called off, his year seemed be small in comparison. The thought didn't cross his mind until later, but it was scary seeing the physical result of the war like that.

A Hannah Abbot and a Susan Bones made it into Hufflepuff, a Terry Boot in Ravenclaw, and the bushy-haired girl from the train made it into Gryffindor. Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy and Draco's two friends made it into Slytherin. Toad-boy Neville Longbottom made it into Gryffindor as well.

When Harry's name came up, the whole hall quieted, and everyone leaned forward, even the teachers. As Harry took his seat, whispers broke out, and more than a few people were pointing at him.

A voice suddenly spoke up, and it took a second for Harry to realize that it was inside his head. "Hmm, yes, Harry Potter, I see. Plenty of courage, yes. Oh, and talent, yes… a lot of talent here. And a mind… a lust to learn the knowledge you've been denied the last ten years, I see that. Ambition too… a thirst to prove yourself. It's all here… but where to put you?

"Not Slytherin," Harry thought back. "Not Voldemort's house."

"Hmrph, you could be great, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. Slytherin isn't the only house with ties to Voldemort, you know, but perhaps it's not the best fit. Well, if it's not Slytherin…. Better be RAVENCLAW!"

Harry realized the last word was announced to the whole room, and the hat was pulled off his head. There was much cheering from the Ravenclaw table, and polite clapping from the others. Hagrid was giving him a thumbs up, and the headmaster raised his goblet to him. It was all a bit much for him, since all the other kids just got normal clapping. He hated being special for something he couldn't remember.

Harry walked his way over to a free spot on the Ravenclaw table, somewhat in a daze. People he didn't know were clapping him on the back and congratulating him. He barely even noticed that his robes now had blue accents on them to signify his new house.

He found himself shaking hands with Penelope Clearwater, a new Ravenclaw prefect apparently, Su Li, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Padma Patil. The rest of the students got sorted, though Harry didn't catch many of the names.

Once everyone was seated, the headmaster stood up and began a speech. "Welcome, welcome all to another year at Hogwarts! Before we being the feast, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Now go forth and eat!"

Harry blinked once at Dumbledore's mysterious words, wondering if it was some sort of spell, then he blinked once more as the table filled up with food. He had never seen so much food he liked on one table. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork shops, lamb chops, ham, bacon, steak, potatoes in five varieties, more greens that he could shake a stick at, and half a hundred other foods. It was magnificent.

He tried to fit a little of everything onto his plate, but was quite unsuccessful in that endeavor. He had to settle for merely eating everything on the plate first, and then loading it up a second time with stuff he hadn't tried yet.

By the time Harry had finished, he was fuller than he had ever been in his whole life. And it was excellent food. It was amazing that a staff could make such amazing food for a group of five hundred, yet all he got in primary school was cold shit with a side of piss.

And when Harry thought he couldn't eat another bite of food, dessert appeared. Ice cream, pie, treacle tarts, donuts, chocolate, strawberries, pudding, and other magical types of dessert. And somehow, he found room for it.

During all this, the Hogwarts ghosts poured through the wall in an exhibition, flying around the room much to the delight of the students, though the first-years were scared shitless. Harry saw the Gryffindor ghost show off his near-decapitation, and the Slytherin ghost's tabard had ethereal blood smeared all over it, much to the horror of a pair of first-year Hufflepuffs. The bloodstained ghost took a seat next to Draco Malfoy, who looked less than thrilled by that.

The Hufflepuff's ghost was a fat thing, wider than he was tall and quite friendly, and Ravenclaw's was a hauntingly beautiful woman named the Grey Lady. She settled down at the end of the table, not bothering to talk to anyone. She seemed sad and withdrawn, Harry thought, but he didn't pay the ghost much mind.

Harry was starting to feel warm and drowsy from all the food he ate. He took a minute to gaze up at the teachers assembled. He saw Professor Quirrell whom he already met in Diagon Alley. Next to him was a dour-looking pale man, with long black hair and a hooked nose. The man must have felt Harry looking at him, for he turned and looked right back.

Suddenly, Harry felt a twinge in his scar and turned away. That was most unexpected, since he had never felt his scar twinge before.

Harry turned to Penelope Clearwater next to him. "Hey, who's the man sitting next to Professor Quirrell?"

The prefect looked up at the high table before responding. "That's Professor Snape. He teaches potions, but everyone knows he been going after the Defense spot for years. He hates most students that aren't Slytherin, though if you show yourself to be capable in his class, he shouldn't bother you too much."

Harry nodded in response. Before he could dwell too much on it, the headmaster got to his feet again, and the whole hall fell silent to listen.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, a few start-of-term announcements are in order. First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off limits. Some of our older students should do well to remember that as well."

Harry could see the mirth in the headmaster's eyes as he peered directly at someone at the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by our caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors," Dumbledore said.

"Quidditch trials will be held the second week of the term," Dumbledore continued." Anyone interested in playing for their House team should contact Madam Hooch.

"And lastly, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly forbidden to everyone who doesn't wish to die a most painful death."

A few people laughed, but it quickly died out. "Is he serious?" Harry asked Penelope.

"Must be. He usually gives a reason, like everyone knows the forest is full of dangerous beasts such as acromantula and centaurs. I didn't hear anything about it at the prefect's meeting."

"Well, don't let me douse your spirits," Dumbledore said once more, projecting his voice over the rising din in the room. "Class schedule will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow, and I suggest you all get an early night. Your prefects will guide you to your common rooms. Off to bed!"

Harry dutifully followed the rest of the Ravenclaws out of the Great Hall. The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students both had to go up the great staircase, though they soon departed ways as the Gryffindors kept going up. The Ravenclaws had a long passageway before another staircase put them on the fifth floor, and then another corridor led to a set of spiral stairs put them somewhere in the west of the castle, though he may have gotten disorientated along the way.

They crowded around the entrance portal to their common room, which was blocked by a large bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Harry was surprised when the thing started talking.

"What is once in a minute, twice in a moment, and never in a thousand years?" The knocker asked.

"It's a riddle," a prefect explained. He was quite tall, maybe an inch over six feet, and had brown hair in a bowl cut. "If you answer it correctly, you will be granted access to the common room. Anyone care to take a guess?"

He was clearly talking to the first-years, since Harry saw some of the older students roll their eyes. A girl his age was quick to speak up. "The letter M."

"That is correct," The eagle knocker said. The door opened on its own accord, allowing them entrance to the common room

"Nice work, Lisa," the prefect said. "The riddles range in difficulty, and I've never heard one repeated. If you get it wrong, you'll get locked out for a few minutes, though usually someone from inside will open the door for you if that's the case – a chime sounds. Well, in you go."

Harry followed the others into the common room, which was amazing. Several long couches sat against the walls on opposite sides, and one wall had a great hearth in it, unlit. There were several small cushioned seats in front of it.

Elsewhere in the room, there were many tables, many chairs, a lot of lighting, and several overflowing bookshelves, all of which were meant to induce an ample studying space. Ravenclaw was supposedly the house of keen learners, so Harry wasn't surprised. There were several paintings and sculptures interspersed around as well, including one that was supposedly a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

On the last wall, there were two staircases, each winding up in opposite directions. "First year boys will be on the left, fourth level. Girls on the right, fourth level. You will be in the same dorm for the next seven years. As for the common room, I suspect you will be spending a lot time here, whether it's studying or doing homework, or playing a round of chess with a friend. This will be your second home. I don't want to bore you, so why don't you all go check out your dorms."

Harry's dorm was situated above the seventh years and below the second years. The dorm itself was the circumference of the actual tower, minus the stairs. There were four four-poster beds spread out in the room, with a window between each. There was a nightstand with a lamp between each bed as well, and a wardrobe, along with a thick rug covering the stone floor. There were warm tapestries covering the walls as well, which made the dorm seem inviting.

Before Harry went to bed, he and his dorm-mates introduced themselves. He would be living the next seven years with Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Anthony Goldstein. When Harry finally did manage to get to his bed (which was very comfortable), he fell asleep quickly, and with a huge smile on his face.

He had never been happier in his entire life.


Obligatory Author's Notes:

It's been awhile since I've posted anything. I've done a lot of writing, but hadn't had the urge to publish anything. The difference with this story is that I've already finished it. Well, I've finished the entire first year at least. I will post each chapter as I finish editing it.

Don't worry though, I don't find first year fics all that interesting either. There's only so much you can change in the first year while keeping it interesting, and relevant for the rest of the story. The whole thing is about 30,000 words or so. We all know the best action starts happening in the fourth year, so I want to get there as quickly as possible, while still covering the important aspects. And don't worry, this story isn't just a simply rehashing of canon either. And if you've read my profile, you know I detest most cliches (though my earlier stories may give you a different impression), so you know you don't have to read about crazy wandless magic, uber magical trunks, ice queen!Daphne, harems, or heir-to-the-founders!Harry. We all know those ideas suck, so you don't really have to worry about them.

As for the pairing itself, at this point it just represents a friendship. They're eleven, you sick fucks. And we all know that putting it as Harry/Daphne will get more story hits than if I just left it blank.

As always, if you spot any major spelling or grammar (or plot inconsistencies) feel free to point them out - I'm not perfect and I won't pretend to be. I'm very good at taking critical reviews, and I will respond to legitimate questions, and I will laugh at those who want Harry to become a dragon animagus for no reason.

Oh, and one last thing so I don't get yelled at. I took the riddle from a riddles website, google riddles and it'll probably be the first result, since I'm unimaginative.