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witticasterThis is so much fun. ;-;
Archie fidgeted in his seat, watching the Kings Cross Station disappear as the Hogwarts Express began to move. It seemed absurd to him, that he and Frankie had Flooed down to London before taking a train back up to Scotland, but that was how it was done. The train didn't make local stops, even though Girvan would nearly be on the way, it being further south than Hogwarts, and there were too many students to just Floo in straight to school, Frankie informed him with a roll of his eyes. (Margie explained it more nicely--"They want you to go and meet people, Archie. You can't do that if you're at Hogwarts in the blink of an eye.")
He'd gone down to see his older brothers and sister off to school every year since before he could remember it, but this was the very first time he'd gotten to do more than stare longingly at the scarlet steam engine. It was exciting, even if Mum and Dad's enthusiasm was a bit subdued. Archie couldn't blame them; he'd done the arithmetic, and they'd already gone through the beginning-of-school to-do of buying schoolbooks and robes ten times. Charlie and Margie were both done with school--Charlie a professional arithmancer and Margie, a mediwitch who got to work as an apprentice at the Quidditch World Cup last summer--and Frankie was a sixth year. Archie was just tagging along on the end of things, and by the time he was done with school, they'd have visited Platform 9 3/4 sixteen years in a row.
That seemed like a lot.
It was all right if they found it a bit boring anyway, since Archie had never been allowed to go along when Charlie and Margie and Frankie got their school supplies, and so it was all entirely new to him. Getting his very own wand (rosewood, ten inches, with a core of unicorn hair) and his very own cat (a little black kitten, less than ten inches, with a tendency to mew) were the best parts, and being fitted for robes, the least fun (for he was pricked with pins more than once by Madam Malkin), but it was all nice. And Frankie had told him (before leaving him in an empty compartment and heading off to find his friends) that he could buy sweets from a witch when she brought a trolley cart by for it.
He was debating whether he wanted to try reading or go looking for people to talk with when the choice was made for him. A boy staggered into the compartment and sat down, hard, across from Archie. The boy closed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chin, looking like he might throw up at any moment.
"Are you all right?" Archie asked, leaning forward.
"I--I think I'm going to be ill," the boy answered, his thick mop of dark, curly hair bouncing as he shook his head. Why he'd headed here instead of the lavatory, Archie wasn't sure...but he looked like he couldn't be more than twelve, and he was miserable, to boot.
"Mum gave me some Ginger Newts, in case I got sick." Archie started fishing through his pockets and pulled out a few biscuits that had been hastily wrapped in a napkin. "You can have them, if you like."
"Thanks." The boy took one, and though he didn't look precisely well after he'd swallowed it, he at least managed to unfold himself and look at Archie straight. He was pale-complexioned, with huge brown eyes, and his hair was not only thick but also long, secured in a queue at the nape of his neck. "I'm Horatio. Horatio Hornblower."
"Archie Kennedy," Archie said, smiling. "Sorry you feel sick."
Horatio grimaced. "I should've known it'd happen."
-
"This is Simon Catling," Archie said, coaxing his kitten out from the carrying-case Dad had gotten it. "You can hold him, if you like."
This brought something like a smile to Horatio's face, and even though he still looked peaky, he looked interested, too. "Hello, Simon," he said in an undertone, when the kitten was safely in his lap, rubbing its head against Horatio's fingers.
"Simon Catling," Archie, who thought the name clever enough to say in full every time, corrected. "I named him after a character in Romeo and Juliet."
"Which one is he?" Horatio asked, frowning.
Archie couldn't help exclaiming, "Oh, good, you have heard of it, too! Frankie said everyone but the Muggleborns were going to think I was daft for reading old plays by someone who wasn't even a wizard. And Dad doesn't even know I like Shakespeare--he'd kill me if he did."
"Oh. My dad's a Muggle, but not my mum," Horatio said, with a bit of a shifty glance around, then quickly asked again, "Who's Simon Catling, though?"
"He's not very important, just a musician who shows up," Archie said, feeling bad for bringing up Muggles at all, with the way Horatio's face grew more guarded at the word. (Nor could he blame Horatio--he wouldn't want to bring it up much if he was a halfblood, either.) "I was thinking of calling him Tybalt, because he's called the Prince of Cats in the story, but imagine a little thing like that named Tybalt?"
"He'd grow into the name eventually," Horatio observed, trying to smother a laugh as Simon Catling tried to claw up the front of his robes. "But Simon Catling is nice, too. I have an owl called Perseus, but he's at home right now. Mum said she and Dad would send him up to school with a letter for me tomorrow or the next day."
"An owl would be nice," Archie said, and moved to sit next to Horatio rather than across from him, so he could pet the kitten as well. "I wish you were allowed more than one pet at Hogwarts, it'd be nice to have two or three."
-
As the sun began to set over the Scottish countryside (where within it, Archie wasn't sure, nor how long it would be before they arrived at the castle), Archie and Horatio found themselves full of Cauldron Cakes (Archie's favourite) and Chocolate Frogs (Horatio's, it turned out). They lounged comfortably on the compartment's cushioned seats, letting Simon Catling climb all over them, and talked. "What house do you hope you'll be in?" Archie asked.
Horatio shrugged, and nearly dislodged the kitten, currently climbing up his left arm. Its tail went straight up, and Archie couldn't help but laugh at it. Horatio smiled, and that was enough. "I don't know. Ravenclaw, I suppose."
Archie tried to keep a pleasant look on his face, but inwardly, his heart was sinking. He'd made a friend, just like Margie told him to, but that wouldn't be any good if they weren't even in the same houses. "Ravenclaw's a good one. I'm not half smart enough to get into it, myself."
"You like reading plays and things, that could count for something," Horatio pointed out. The beginnings of a frown were etched into his brow. "What house do you want?"
"I think Gryffindor," Archie said, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he considered. "Although then I'd have to see my brother all the time. My oldest brother was a Hufflepuff, and my sister was a Ravenclaw."
"Maybe you're destined for Slytherin, then," Horatio said innocently.
"I hope not," Archie answered, and bit his lip. "Frankie says all the Slytherins are prats. He'd never let me hear the end of it."
Before Horatio could respond, the door to the compartment was thrown open, and a voice called, "That your cat, Kennedy?"
Archie, recognizing it, and the boy it belonged to, scrambled to sit up straight. He did not want to look up at Jack Simpson, who was a prat at the best of times and a bully at worst, and busied himself instead with trying to hold his squirming kitten still in his hands. Truly, he didn't need to look at him to know exactly what he'd see: a boy with shaggy, dirty blond hair, pale eyes, and a nose too large for his face leering down at the both of them.
"Answer me, Kennedy!" Jack said, louder this time, and Archie started slightly.
"Yeah, s'my cat," Archie said, and Simon Catling mewed in agreement.
"Awfully flea-bitten looking thing," Jack said, and reached out a broad hand for it. Archie, fearing that trying to jerk the kitten out of his reach would startle it more, let him take it in hand and hold it up to get a better look at it. "Thought your parents had money."
"He's a very dignified cat," Horatio said suddenly, having also sat up. "Not flea-bitten at all."
This made Jack laugh, and sidle into the compartment proper. "Who's your little friend, Kennedy? Haven't you taught him not to talk back to his betters?"
"My name is Horatio Hornblower," Horatio answered, looking up at Jack with a baleful gaze, "and you had best put that cat down."
"Or what, Snotty? You'll call a prefect?" Jack asked, then looked down at the remaining pile of sweets. He picked up a Chocolate Frog and unwrapped it, giving no glance to the card it came with.
"That's my chocolate." Horatio stood up, and though he wasn't quite as tall as Jack, it was clear he was not going to back down. "Give it back."
"Careful," Jack said, and popped the Chocolate Frog in his mouth. Speaking around it, he added, "Wouldn't want kitty here to come to a bad end."
Archie gritted his teeth, telling himself he must stand as well, when one of the older boys appeared in the doorway. A badge reading Head Boy was pinned to his robes, and he regarded the scene with a hard expression. "You," he said to Jack. "Does that animal belong to you?"
"I-it's mine," Archie managed to pipe up, and at the boy's insistent stare, Jack handed a distressed and mewing Simon Catling back to Archie.
"If I catch you in this compartment again, it'll be five points from Slytherin," the boy continued, and stepped aside so that Jack could leave. All the more reluctantly, he did so, but not before he'd glared at Archie and Horatio each in turn. When he had left, Horatio sat back down next to Archie, and the older boy looked down at them both, with less sternness in his eyes. "We'll be arriving at Hogwarts soon. You should put on your robes."
"Thank you," Archie said quietly, looking away as he spoke. Simon Catling was beginning to seem less frightened, but Archie kept petting him anyway, finding he needed something to do with his hands.
"If you two need anything else, you can come find one of the prefects, or me," the boy continued, as though Archie had not spoken at all. "My name is James Norrington. Who're you two?"
"Horatio Hornblower."
"Archie Kennedy."
Norrington raised an eyebrow at the latter name. "You one of Charlie's little brothers?" Archie's nod brought something like a smile out on his face. "He was a few years ahead of me. Good fellow. Perhaps we'll see you in Hufflepuff tonight, too."
I hope not, Archie thought, given how immeasurably dull everyone said Hufflepuff was, but he wasn't about to insult the Head Boy's house. Instead, he nodded wordlessly, and Horatio, too, and Norrington went on his way, shutting the compartment door behind him.
They were quiet for some minutes, until Archie sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "Maybe you'll have to be the Gryffindor. That wasn't brave of me at all."
"Did you know him?" Horatio asked, even though he must already have known the answer was 'yes.'
"Simpson's dad knows my dad." Archie closed his eyes, feeling Simon Catling purring beneath his fingers and wishing Jack had never laid a finger on his poor kitten. "He's always been that much of a prat."
Horatio made a noise like he was clearing his throat and then said, as though to change the subject, "I suppose we should do get our robes on, then."
-
Frankie had said that new students had to duel with the headmaster before they could join a house. Margie had told him he'd find out soon enough how houses were chosen, if only he would wait. Archie hadn't had a chance to ask Charlie how he had been put in Hufflepuff, but he imagined that the response would have been equally unhelpful. Horatio indicated that he was equally uncertain, on the boat ride across the dark lake, and a few other of their new classmates offered possibilities that sounded like the nonsense Frankie'd tried to feed to him.
The reality--a worn, patched hat--was almost a let-down, after all that wondering, but Archie was so relieved he wouldn't have to duel anyone, and so awed by the grandeur of the Great Hall, that he didn't mind. It sang them a song about the school, and then a professor--Professor McGonagall, he reminded himself--began to read off names.
Archie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing he had not set Simon Catling back in his carrying-case, to be delivered with his trunk up to his room. It would have been nice to have a friend next to him at that moment, though there was only one person--a girl with the surname of Jenkins--between him and Horatio. They could not speak to each other in undertones, and Professor McGonagall looked as though she might eviscerate anyone who didn't pay attention.
It was not long before "Hornblower, Horatio!" was called, and Horatio made his way to the Hat. He set it upon his head, and, like all the other first years before him, there was a long pause. Finally, the Hat cried, "This one's a GRYFFINDOR!" and Horatio's curly head reappeared, a broader grin on his face than Archie had seen before.
And then it was "Jenkins, Mariska!" and very soon after, "Kennedy, Archibald!" Hearing his full name was far less intimidating than hearing Archie. Archie was never called Archibald; he might as well be stepping up in a stranger's place.
The Hat fell over his eyes and hmmmed in his ear. "You want to be in Gryffindor, I see."
"Horatio's in Gryffindor," Archie told the Hat. "I want to go where he's going."
"Loyalty like that, you ought to be in Hufflepuff." And then the Hat laughed, if such a thing were possible. "We don't like that idea one bit, do we? You'd do well there, and in Ravenclaw--if ever you thought you were bright enough for it."
"I wanted to be in Gryffindor before I met Horatio," Archie pointed out, beginning to worry. The Hat wouldn't really put him somewhere he didn't want to be, would it?
"Sometimes I do," the Hat said, its disembodied voice still sounding amused. "But I think you have a lion's share of courage in you. GRYFFINDOR!"
The sudden light, as the Hat came off his head, and the cheering from his new house, left him feeling somewhat dazed. He walked the the long table of Gryffindors and squeezed in next to Horatio, ready and waiting with an unabashedly happy smile.
-
Frankie ignored him for the remainder of the night, but Archie didn't mind a bit; there were far more interesting things to do than tag along behind his brother. Once everyone had been Sorted, announcements were made about curfews and banned magical toys, and Headmaster Dumbledore spoke very briefly on the importance of house unity during uncertain times. He'd ended with, "And before you all drowse off in your chairs, let me finish as the French might, in this situation: Bon appétit!"
More food materialized before them than Archie thought could ever possibly be eaten, even by the whole of Hogwarts. The Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs he'd shared with Horatio on the train seemed far longer ago than a mere few hours, especially after all the excitement of being Sorted. Helping himself to great portions of mashed potatoes and roasted carrots, he spooned some beef stew over top it all and dug in. Horatio, to his left, was carving up some roast chicken rather inexpertly, and to his right, a dark-haired girl was serving herself up some lamb chops and boiled peas. She was another of the first years, as were the students sitting across from them; they had all ended up at a clump at this end of the long table.
"We really ought to introduce ourselves," the girl said suddenly, after everyone had gotten through a first plate of dinner. She reached out and stabbed a sausage with her fork and a curiously practiced air, as though she grabbed food willy-nilly often. "I'm Ellen. Is all wizarding food this good?"
"No," said the boy across from them, his fair hair falling in front of his eyes. "My mum can't cook for anything. I'm Percival," he added, as an afterthought. "Percival Mound."
"Archie Kennedy," Archie said, and asked, "So you're Muggleborn?" to Ellen.
She made a face, one which suggested she didn't particularly like being labeled as such, and said, "Yes, but--I'm not the only person with magic in my family, my brother goes here, too."
"I'm Horatio," Horatio said then, perhaps hearing the defensiveness in Ellen's voice, or perhaps just now without a mouthful of food getting in the way of speaking. "It's very nice to meet you all."
The other first years introduced themselves, too, and they all fell into a comfortable half-silence; someone would occasionally say something, but for the most part, they all tucked into their dinners without too much commentary. The rest of the Great Hall was so abuzz with conversations that it didn't feel strange not to chat too much; and Archie was used to meals without much conversation anyway.
The noise in the Great Hall increased when the platters full of meat and vegetables were magically replaced with cakes, puddings, pies, and other sweet things. Archie had previously thought himself quite full, but the delight he felt upon spotting a plate of tablet half-hidden behind a pile of mint humbugs was enough to suggest to his stomach that he could manage a bit or two more.
"Here, Horatio," he said, breaking off a bit for himself and offering another piece to his friend.
Horatio took the fawn-coloured sweet from Archie, and frowned at it. "What is it?"
"S'really good," Archie said, resolving to try and sneak the rest of the plate out with him as they left, for future snacking. "Try it."
Horatio pronounced it interesting, after a bite, but alternated between it and his serving of custard tart until he was full. At that point, Archie's ambitions were thwarted, for, as with the main course before it, this course disappeared into thin air when the Great Feast was over.
They were directed up to Gryffindor Tower by a jolly-looking prefect with long yellow hair, and from there, up to their new dormitory. Horatio's bed was next to Archie's, and Simon Catling was already curled up on Archie's pillow; whoever brought Archie's things up had been kind enough to let the kitten out, and Simon Catling had been kind enough not to run off. Feeling too tired and full even to think, Archie changed into his pyjamas and was asleep almost before he'd drawn the covers up over him.
-
Archie fidgeted in his seat, watching the Kings Cross Station disappear as the Hogwarts Express began to move. It seemed absurd to him, that he and Frankie had Flooed down to London before taking a train back up to Scotland, but that was how it was done. The train didn't make local stops, even though Girvan would nearly be on the way, it being further south than Hogwarts, and there were too many students to just Floo in straight to school, Frankie informed him with a roll of his eyes. (Margie explained it more nicely--"They want you to go and meet people, Archie. You can't do that if you're at Hogwarts in the blink of an eye.")
He'd gone down to see his older brothers and sister off to school every year since before he could remember it, but this was the very first time he'd gotten to do more than stare longingly at the scarlet steam engine. It was exciting, even if Mum and Dad's enthusiasm was a bit subdued. Archie couldn't blame them; he'd done the arithmetic, and they'd already gone through the beginning-of-school to-do of buying schoolbooks and robes ten times. Charlie and Margie were both done with school--Charlie a professional arithmancer and Margie, a mediwitch who got to work as an apprentice at the Quidditch World Cup last summer--and Frankie was a sixth year. Archie was just tagging along on the end of things, and by the time he was done with school, they'd have visited Platform 9 3/4 sixteen years in a row.
That seemed like a lot.
It was all right if they found it a bit boring anyway, since Archie had never been allowed to go along when Charlie and Margie and Frankie got their school supplies, and so it was all entirely new to him. Getting his very own wand (rosewood, ten inches, with a core of unicorn hair) and his very own cat (a little black kitten, less than ten inches, with a tendency to mew) were the best parts, and being fitted for robes, the least fun (for he was pricked with pins more than once by Madam Malkin), but it was all nice. And Frankie had told him (before leaving him in an empty compartment and heading off to find his friends) that he could buy sweets from a witch when she brought a trolley cart by for it.
He was debating whether he wanted to try reading or go looking for people to talk with when the choice was made for him. A boy staggered into the compartment and sat down, hard, across from Archie. The boy closed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chin, looking like he might throw up at any moment.
"Are you all right?" Archie asked, leaning forward.
"I--I think I'm going to be ill," the boy answered, his thick mop of dark, curly hair bouncing as he shook his head. Why he'd headed here instead of the lavatory, Archie wasn't sure...but he looked like he couldn't be more than twelve, and he was miserable, to boot.
"Mum gave me some Ginger Newts, in case I got sick." Archie started fishing through his pockets and pulled out a few biscuits that had been hastily wrapped in a napkin. "You can have them, if you like."
"Thanks." The boy took one, and though he didn't look precisely well after he'd swallowed it, he at least managed to unfold himself and look at Archie straight. He was pale-complexioned, with huge brown eyes, and his hair was not only thick but also long, secured in a queue at the nape of his neck. "I'm Horatio. Horatio Hornblower."
"Archie Kennedy," Archie said, smiling. "Sorry you feel sick."
Horatio grimaced. "I should've known it'd happen."
-
"This is Simon Catling," Archie said, coaxing his kitten out from the carrying-case Dad had gotten it. "You can hold him, if you like."
This brought something like a smile to Horatio's face, and even though he still looked peaky, he looked interested, too. "Hello, Simon," he said in an undertone, when the kitten was safely in his lap, rubbing its head against Horatio's fingers.
"Simon Catling," Archie, who thought the name clever enough to say in full every time, corrected. "I named him after a character in Romeo and Juliet."
"Which one is he?" Horatio asked, frowning.
Archie couldn't help exclaiming, "Oh, good, you have heard of it, too! Frankie said everyone but the Muggleborns were going to think I was daft for reading old plays by someone who wasn't even a wizard. And Dad doesn't even know I like Shakespeare--he'd kill me if he did."
"Oh. My dad's a Muggle, but not my mum," Horatio said, with a bit of a shifty glance around, then quickly asked again, "Who's Simon Catling, though?"
"He's not very important, just a musician who shows up," Archie said, feeling bad for bringing up Muggles at all, with the way Horatio's face grew more guarded at the word. (Nor could he blame Horatio--he wouldn't want to bring it up much if he was a halfblood, either.) "I was thinking of calling him Tybalt, because he's called the Prince of Cats in the story, but imagine a little thing like that named Tybalt?"
"He'd grow into the name eventually," Horatio observed, trying to smother a laugh as Simon Catling tried to claw up the front of his robes. "But Simon Catling is nice, too. I have an owl called Perseus, but he's at home right now. Mum said she and Dad would send him up to school with a letter for me tomorrow or the next day."
"An owl would be nice," Archie said, and moved to sit next to Horatio rather than across from him, so he could pet the kitten as well. "I wish you were allowed more than one pet at Hogwarts, it'd be nice to have two or three."
-
As the sun began to set over the Scottish countryside (where within it, Archie wasn't sure, nor how long it would be before they arrived at the castle), Archie and Horatio found themselves full of Cauldron Cakes (Archie's favourite) and Chocolate Frogs (Horatio's, it turned out). They lounged comfortably on the compartment's cushioned seats, letting Simon Catling climb all over them, and talked. "What house do you hope you'll be in?" Archie asked.
Horatio shrugged, and nearly dislodged the kitten, currently climbing up his left arm. Its tail went straight up, and Archie couldn't help but laugh at it. Horatio smiled, and that was enough. "I don't know. Ravenclaw, I suppose."
Archie tried to keep a pleasant look on his face, but inwardly, his heart was sinking. He'd made a friend, just like Margie told him to, but that wouldn't be any good if they weren't even in the same houses. "Ravenclaw's a good one. I'm not half smart enough to get into it, myself."
"You like reading plays and things, that could count for something," Horatio pointed out. The beginnings of a frown were etched into his brow. "What house do you want?"
"I think Gryffindor," Archie said, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he considered. "Although then I'd have to see my brother all the time. My oldest brother was a Hufflepuff, and my sister was a Ravenclaw."
"Maybe you're destined for Slytherin, then," Horatio said innocently.
"I hope not," Archie answered, and bit his lip. "Frankie says all the Slytherins are prats. He'd never let me hear the end of it."
Before Horatio could respond, the door to the compartment was thrown open, and a voice called, "That your cat, Kennedy?"
Archie, recognizing it, and the boy it belonged to, scrambled to sit up straight. He did not want to look up at Jack Simpson, who was a prat at the best of times and a bully at worst, and busied himself instead with trying to hold his squirming kitten still in his hands. Truly, he didn't need to look at him to know exactly what he'd see: a boy with shaggy, dirty blond hair, pale eyes, and a nose too large for his face leering down at the both of them.
"Answer me, Kennedy!" Jack said, louder this time, and Archie started slightly.
"Yeah, s'my cat," Archie said, and Simon Catling mewed in agreement.
"Awfully flea-bitten looking thing," Jack said, and reached out a broad hand for it. Archie, fearing that trying to jerk the kitten out of his reach would startle it more, let him take it in hand and hold it up to get a better look at it. "Thought your parents had money."
"He's a very dignified cat," Horatio said suddenly, having also sat up. "Not flea-bitten at all."
This made Jack laugh, and sidle into the compartment proper. "Who's your little friend, Kennedy? Haven't you taught him not to talk back to his betters?"
"My name is Horatio Hornblower," Horatio answered, looking up at Jack with a baleful gaze, "and you had best put that cat down."
"Or what, Snotty? You'll call a prefect?" Jack asked, then looked down at the remaining pile of sweets. He picked up a Chocolate Frog and unwrapped it, giving no glance to the card it came with.
"That's my chocolate." Horatio stood up, and though he wasn't quite as tall as Jack, it was clear he was not going to back down. "Give it back."
"Careful," Jack said, and popped the Chocolate Frog in his mouth. Speaking around it, he added, "Wouldn't want kitty here to come to a bad end."
Archie gritted his teeth, telling himself he must stand as well, when one of the older boys appeared in the doorway. A badge reading Head Boy was pinned to his robes, and he regarded the scene with a hard expression. "You," he said to Jack. "Does that animal belong to you?"
"I-it's mine," Archie managed to pipe up, and at the boy's insistent stare, Jack handed a distressed and mewing Simon Catling back to Archie.
"If I catch you in this compartment again, it'll be five points from Slytherin," the boy continued, and stepped aside so that Jack could leave. All the more reluctantly, he did so, but not before he'd glared at Archie and Horatio each in turn. When he had left, Horatio sat back down next to Archie, and the older boy looked down at them both, with less sternness in his eyes. "We'll be arriving at Hogwarts soon. You should put on your robes."
"Thank you," Archie said quietly, looking away as he spoke. Simon Catling was beginning to seem less frightened, but Archie kept petting him anyway, finding he needed something to do with his hands.
"If you two need anything else, you can come find one of the prefects, or me," the boy continued, as though Archie had not spoken at all. "My name is James Norrington. Who're you two?"
"Horatio Hornblower."
"Archie Kennedy."
Norrington raised an eyebrow at the latter name. "You one of Charlie's little brothers?" Archie's nod brought something like a smile out on his face. "He was a few years ahead of me. Good fellow. Perhaps we'll see you in Hufflepuff tonight, too."
I hope not, Archie thought, given how immeasurably dull everyone said Hufflepuff was, but he wasn't about to insult the Head Boy's house. Instead, he nodded wordlessly, and Horatio, too, and Norrington went on his way, shutting the compartment door behind him.
They were quiet for some minutes, until Archie sighed, leaning back against the cushions. "Maybe you'll have to be the Gryffindor. That wasn't brave of me at all."
"Did you know him?" Horatio asked, even though he must already have known the answer was 'yes.'
"Simpson's dad knows my dad." Archie closed his eyes, feeling Simon Catling purring beneath his fingers and wishing Jack had never laid a finger on his poor kitten. "He's always been that much of a prat."
Horatio made a noise like he was clearing his throat and then said, as though to change the subject, "I suppose we should do get our robes on, then."
-
Frankie had said that new students had to duel with the headmaster before they could join a house. Margie had told him he'd find out soon enough how houses were chosen, if only he would wait. Archie hadn't had a chance to ask Charlie how he had been put in Hufflepuff, but he imagined that the response would have been equally unhelpful. Horatio indicated that he was equally uncertain, on the boat ride across the dark lake, and a few other of their new classmates offered possibilities that sounded like the nonsense Frankie'd tried to feed to him.
The reality--a worn, patched hat--was almost a let-down, after all that wondering, but Archie was so relieved he wouldn't have to duel anyone, and so awed by the grandeur of the Great Hall, that he didn't mind. It sang them a song about the school, and then a professor--Professor McGonagall, he reminded himself--began to read off names.
Archie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing he had not set Simon Catling back in his carrying-case, to be delivered with his trunk up to his room. It would have been nice to have a friend next to him at that moment, though there was only one person--a girl with the surname of Jenkins--between him and Horatio. They could not speak to each other in undertones, and Professor McGonagall looked as though she might eviscerate anyone who didn't pay attention.
It was not long before "Hornblower, Horatio!" was called, and Horatio made his way to the Hat. He set it upon his head, and, like all the other first years before him, there was a long pause. Finally, the Hat cried, "This one's a GRYFFINDOR!" and Horatio's curly head reappeared, a broader grin on his face than Archie had seen before.
And then it was "Jenkins, Mariska!" and very soon after, "Kennedy, Archibald!" Hearing his full name was far less intimidating than hearing Archie. Archie was never called Archibald; he might as well be stepping up in a stranger's place.
The Hat fell over his eyes and hmmmed in his ear. "You want to be in Gryffindor, I see."
"Horatio's in Gryffindor," Archie told the Hat. "I want to go where he's going."
"Loyalty like that, you ought to be in Hufflepuff." And then the Hat laughed, if such a thing were possible. "We don't like that idea one bit, do we? You'd do well there, and in Ravenclaw--if ever you thought you were bright enough for it."
"I wanted to be in Gryffindor before I met Horatio," Archie pointed out, beginning to worry. The Hat wouldn't really put him somewhere he didn't want to be, would it?
"Sometimes I do," the Hat said, its disembodied voice still sounding amused. "But I think you have a lion's share of courage in you. GRYFFINDOR!"
The sudden light, as the Hat came off his head, and the cheering from his new house, left him feeling somewhat dazed. He walked the the long table of Gryffindors and squeezed in next to Horatio, ready and waiting with an unabashedly happy smile.
-
Frankie ignored him for the remainder of the night, but Archie didn't mind a bit; there were far more interesting things to do than tag along behind his brother. Once everyone had been Sorted, announcements were made about curfews and banned magical toys, and Headmaster Dumbledore spoke very briefly on the importance of house unity during uncertain times. He'd ended with, "And before you all drowse off in your chairs, let me finish as the French might, in this situation: Bon appétit!"
More food materialized before them than Archie thought could ever possibly be eaten, even by the whole of Hogwarts. The Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs he'd shared with Horatio on the train seemed far longer ago than a mere few hours, especially after all the excitement of being Sorted. Helping himself to great portions of mashed potatoes and roasted carrots, he spooned some beef stew over top it all and dug in. Horatio, to his left, was carving up some roast chicken rather inexpertly, and to his right, a dark-haired girl was serving herself up some lamb chops and boiled peas. She was another of the first years, as were the students sitting across from them; they had all ended up at a clump at this end of the long table.
"We really ought to introduce ourselves," the girl said suddenly, after everyone had gotten through a first plate of dinner. She reached out and stabbed a sausage with her fork and a curiously practiced air, as though she grabbed food willy-nilly often. "I'm Ellen. Is all wizarding food this good?"
"No," said the boy across from them, his fair hair falling in front of his eyes. "My mum can't cook for anything. I'm Percival," he added, as an afterthought. "Percival Mound."
"Archie Kennedy," Archie said, and asked, "So you're Muggleborn?" to Ellen.
She made a face, one which suggested she didn't particularly like being labeled as such, and said, "Yes, but--I'm not the only person with magic in my family, my brother goes here, too."
"I'm Horatio," Horatio said then, perhaps hearing the defensiveness in Ellen's voice, or perhaps just now without a mouthful of food getting in the way of speaking. "It's very nice to meet you all."
The other first years introduced themselves, too, and they all fell into a comfortable half-silence; someone would occasionally say something, but for the most part, they all tucked into their dinners without too much commentary. The rest of the Great Hall was so abuzz with conversations that it didn't feel strange not to chat too much; and Archie was used to meals without much conversation anyway.
The noise in the Great Hall increased when the platters full of meat and vegetables were magically replaced with cakes, puddings, pies, and other sweet things. Archie had previously thought himself quite full, but the delight he felt upon spotting a plate of tablet half-hidden behind a pile of mint humbugs was enough to suggest to his stomach that he could manage a bit or two more.
"Here, Horatio," he said, breaking off a bit for himself and offering another piece to his friend.
Horatio took the fawn-coloured sweet from Archie, and frowned at it. "What is it?"
"S'really good," Archie said, resolving to try and sneak the rest of the plate out with him as they left, for future snacking. "Try it."
Horatio pronounced it interesting, after a bite, but alternated between it and his serving of custard tart until he was full. At that point, Archie's ambitions were thwarted, for, as with the main course before it, this course disappeared into thin air when the Great Feast was over.
They were directed up to Gryffindor Tower by a jolly-looking prefect with long yellow hair, and from there, up to their new dormitory. Horatio's bed was next to Archie's, and Simon Catling was already curled up on Archie's pillow; whoever brought Archie's things up had been kind enough to let the kitten out, and Simon Catling had been kind enough not to run off. Feeling too tired and full even to think, Archie changed into his pyjamas and was asleep almost before he'd drawn the covers up over him.
-
