Hogwarts

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The first few months at Hogwarts passed quickly for Anthony Goldstein. The lessons were pretty fun, even if the Defense professor spoke a little weirdly and Transfiguration turned out to be really, really hard. He was learning magic, and that was something for which he thanked Adonai every day. Sometimes he would watch Ron Weasley at Charms, or Zacharias Smith in Herbology, and ask himself how they couldn't see the wonder of it all - but then, he supposed they might be used to it, coming from full Wizarding families. His father had magic, but he used it only every once in a while, maybe so that Anthony's mother didn't feel left out. Anthony had grown up in an almost completely normal - Muggle, he should say - household. That was probably why he felt closer to the Muggle-borns in his dorm room, Kevin Entwhistle and Harry Huang, than the other members, Terry Boot and Michael Corner.

Well, technically Harry wasn't a Muggle-born, but he might as well have been. He told them that he hadn't even known that his parents were wizards until the Hogwarts gamekeeper (well, "Keeper of Keys and Grounds" is what he called himself when they went to visit, but what did that even mean really) explained things to him. This was a really big shock for Terry, apparently, and he went on for a while about how Harry should be proud of his ancestry because he was what they called pureblood which meant something to some people and didn't he know he was famous.

"Well, I do now," Harry had said with a slight frown, "But the whole Voldemort -" Michael and Terry had shuddered in unison. "- thing happened when I was a baby, so I don't really think it matters that much. I mean, it's cool that I beat him, but I don't even remember it, you know?"

Terry had started to say something, but Harry had talked right over him. "Also, why do you call them - or us, I guess - why do you call us pureblood? You call the other ones Muggle-borns, right? Doesn't it make sense to call us Wizard-borns, or something? Wizard-born? I don't think it should have an s on it."

Kevin had spoken up, "Ooh, that makes sense! Wizard-born. I like that. I'm using that."

And from then on, people with magical parents were known as Wizard-born. It had started with the boys in their dorm, once they won Terry over ("Okay, okay, I guess it does make sense. That's just what my parents told me, anyway."), and quickly spread to the rest of the first-year Ravenclaws. It wasn't a big thing in Hufflepuff yet, but Harry was friends with that Longbottom kid from Gryffindor, so a lot of them were using it too now. Although that also could have been because it annoyed so many people in Slytherin.

Slytherin was interesting. On the one hand, it was kind of cool to be able to plot and plan and make everything turn out just the way you wanted, the way all the older Slytherins seemed to be able to. On the other hand, most of them looked… really mean, honestly. Anthony had heard stories about what some of them did to people they didn't like; when he looked at Marcus Flint or what's-his-name Warrington, he could believe them. And although most of the first-years were just funny to watch when they tried to come up with twistedly complicated plots and failed miserably, even they could be pretty scary. Draco Malfoy, for one, always had Crabbe and Goyle at his shoulders, ready to do nasty things at his bidding, and those two were generally agreed to be both interchangeable and totally willing to pound people into the ground. Well, okay, they mostly just loomed menacingly in the background when Malfoy was speaking to you, and they were still only eleven years old, but Anthony completely believed they would do unspeakable things given half the chance. And Malfoy also had Pansy Parkinson on his side, and Tracey Davis, and his dad was a Really Big Deal.

All of which made it super terrifying when his roommate went out of his way to talk to him!

"Hey, Draco!" Harry would call out cheerfully in Herbology. It was a little freaky how Harry always somehow knew exactly where everyone was. Made it hard to remember he was blind, sometimes.

"Don't call me that," Malfoy would snarl, and Michael would cringe and subtly shuffle around until he was on the opposite side.

Harry would continue on obliviously. "Let's be partners, Draco!"

"No."

"Oh, come on! The teachers all say we should have more friends between Houses!"

And Malfoy would sneer and roll his eyes and say something to the effect of, "Teachers are stupid, because my father is Lucius Malfoy."

Sometimes Harry would give up and just work with one of the other Ravenclaws, but more often than not he kept badgering Malfoy, the latter getting steadily more annoyed, until Professor Sprout came along and paired them up out of exasperation. Harry was always inordinately pleased by this. Malfoy was not.

They worked well together, all things considered.

Other than the Malfoy front, life at Hogwarts was nice and peaceful. Sure, getting to classes were a pain and Anthony still got lost at least twice a month, but everyone was really helpful, including the weird moving paintings and the creepy ghosts. Even the Bloody Baron was usually willing to give you directions, if you could ignore the blood long enough to ask. Peeves was the only one who actively tried to work against your getting to class on time. Actually, that was already bad enough, especially since Peeves always seemed to have more ghostly tricks up his sleeves and Dungbombs in his hands, and the first-years couldn't even do anything to him. Terry had said grimly that according to his mother, Peeves had come back for the sole purpose of becoming the single most annoying entity in Hogwarts, and he was dead-set on never giving up his spot.

Okay, so maybe Hogwarts wasn't so peaceful after all. But it was nice, and magical, and he was making friends already. So that was alright. Still, he couldn't wait to get home for the Christmas holidays.

A/N

I'm back! It's been… years, actually, since I touched this story. I apologize. If you happen to be a returning reader, I recommend you go back and read from the beginning, because I've made some major changes to the previous chapters. Going forward, I think it might be easier for me to update, because I have discovered time skips! Also I'm graduating, so I may or may not have more time and inclination to write.

Anthony Goldstein is Jewish in my story. I'm not Jewish myself, but I've done some research and will do my best to keep everything accurate when speaking from his point of view. Please let me know if you notice anything that's out of place or should be added.

I've gotten a few questions regarding the blood wards protecting the Dursley home. Trust me when I say that everything (and I do mean everything) has been accounted for and will eventually be explained… when I get around to it.