AN: CHAPTER TWO HERE, WHAT MORE CAN I SAY?

Chapter Two

As the students filed off the train onto the crowded Hogsmeade train station, Will made sure that Hermione was with him at all times, the girl seemed rather too shy than was probably safe and he didn't want her to get lost in the seething mass of teens. He wondered for a moment where they were supposed to be going, when a loud voice enlightened him,

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Will noted with satisfaction that he was one of the very few students who didn't gasp at the sight of the giant man. But then again, after everything that turned up at the manor and Magic school, he would have been very disappointed with himself if he had. He thought with some superiority that the man wasn't really that scary. He was tall, that was fair enough, and his face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard. But his glinting black eyes were friendly. The image of danger was dispelled even further when the gigantic man beamed over the crowd,

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Will and Hermione joined the flood of students congregating in a lopsided train behind the moleskin-coated back of the huge man. The lantern the man was carrying guttered in the wind and it was difficult for them to see as the felt their way along the path. Will heard someone sniffing and rolled his eyes. He felt Hermione reach for his hand in the darkness and shrugged his shoulders and took it, apparently he was one of the very few not unnerved by this narrow path they were walking along. Then the tall man spoke again,

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here."

A great gasp rose from the other children and even Will allowed himself to whistle through his teeth. The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. With his keen eyesight, Will saw a flotilla of small rowing boats sitting in the water by the shore. The giant man, who, from the easily audible conversations of the other students, Will determined to be called Hagrid, spoke up then, raising his voice above the chatter that had sprouted like wild fire among the students,

"No more'n four to a boat!"

Hermione followed Will into the last boat in the group and the two of them were joined by a lanky red-haired boy and a short pasty looking boy with brown hair who looked like he was about to be sick. Hagrid had an entire boat to himself and the little fleet pushed off from the side of the lake. The journey across the glassy lake passed smoothly and soon they were bending their heads to duck under a tunnel cut into the mountain itself.

They got out of the boats, standing in a pebbled underground harbour. The pasty-skinned boy sighed with relief as Hagrid found his toad and Will rolled his eyes. Once that little drama had played its course, the group followed Hagrid's lantern up a dark passageway until they came out onto smooth, dark grass in the shadow of the castle. They mounted a flight of stone steps, worn slightly by time, and crowded around a huge oaken door.

After checking that all students, and toads, were still present, Hagrid raised one huge fist and knocked three times on the solid oak door. The knocks hadn't even echoed when the doors swung open, revealing an imposing, severe-looking witch with black hair pulled back in a tight bun. Hagrid greeted her as Professor McGonagall, and Will recognised her as the Deputy Headmistress who had written his acceptance letter.

Something about the woman's stern face automatically brought the entire cavalcade of students, and toads, into total obedience as she led them through the imposing entrance hall and into a small room.

Will listened with half an ear to her speech and absorbed the crucial fact that they were about to be sorted, the rest of her speech he had already read about. After her speech, Professor McGonagall left the room, telling them that they would be summoned shortly and admonishing them to be quiet. The quiet lasted about ten seconds, until the crowd of eleven-year olds burst into a flurry of frantic whispering. Will rolled his eyes, something, he reflected, that he had been doing a lot recently.

He was just listening in amusement to the guesses about the nature of the 'Sorting', he supposed that not telling the first years how they would be sorted was some kind of Hogwarts tradition, when screams burst out amongst the first years. Looking up, he saw that a group of ghosts had just burst into the room straight through one of the walls. One of the ghosts noticed the students and after this the discussion turned to houses, which gave Will a few seconds to think. It didn't really matter to him which house he was in, reading between the lines he had ascertained that all the houses had their failings and redeeming qualities.

Before he could muse on this any longer, the ghosts floated through the opposite wall to the one they had entered by, and Professor McGonagall returned to the room. They were quickly ordered to form a line by the stern witch, and they did this without question, Professor McGonagall just didn't seem like the type of woman you would want to cross.

They entered the hall and even Will gave in to the temptation to gaze around him as they approached the front of the hall and what Will supposed to be the High Table. The magnificent view was marred by the sea of staring faces and Will looked up, gazing at the bewitched night sky that made up the distant ceiling. Will looked down to see McGonagall solemnly placing a tattered pointed hat on a four-legged stool. This apparently was how they were to be sorted.

And just how would this scruffy looking item of clothing determine what house they were going to be in? Will's question was answered for him when the hat began to sing,

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

You're in sage hands (though I have none)

For I'm a thinking cap!"

Will sighed as the hall was filled with thunderous applause for what had been a truly appalling piece of poetry. It had, he reflected, been almost as bad as some of the rhymes he had first used when he was first writing spells. He saw Professor McGonagall bring out a large scroll of parchment and presumed that the Sorting was about to begin. Though he considered it a sad reflection on the school that the future of the students' lives at the school was determined by a talking witch's hat with a bad taste in rhyming couplets.

He watched as McGonagall unrolled the parchment and called a blonde haired girl named Hannah Abbott up to be sorted into Hufflepuff. Then Susan Bones joined Hannah before Terry Boot became the first Ravenclaw, to be later joined by Mandy Brocklehurst. A brown haired girl named Lavender Brown became the first Gryffindor and a chunky dark-haired girl called Millicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin of that year.

The hat sorted Finch-Fletchley, Justin, into Hufflepuff and then Seamus Finnigan into Gryffindor. Then it was Hermione's turn,

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione paled and Will gave her hand a comforting squeeze and a small smile. Trembling, Hermione sat down on the stool and jammed the hat onto her head with audacious fingers. It was only a moment before the hat shouted,

"Gryffindor"

Will smiled at her as she made her way across to the Gryffindor table, taking a seat by a tall red-haired boy Will remembered seeing on the platform. Then Professor McGonagall shouted out,

"Halliwell-Turner, William."

Whispers rose from the crowd, like bubbling water from dark springs. Ignoring it, as he was more than used to being the subject of gossip, he approached the stool and sat down, placing the hat over his head, allowing the brim to fall over his eyes. He then heard a small voice,

"Interesting, I have not seen one of your type in many years."

Will rolled his eyes,

"I'm not that interesting."

"I retain the right to disagree with that. I find you most interesting. One of your magic has not attended this school in many years."

"Will you just hurry up and sort me, already."

"Impatient, aren't we?"

"Tell me, you're the one reading my mind."

"There's no need to be like that, boy. Just stating my opinion. You have an interesting past here, lots of ambition as well. Yes, there's only one place for you."

"Will you get on with it."

"Slytherin"

Absolute silence filled the hall after this pronouncement. When the other students had been sorted, there had been applause from the houses, but not this time. Will frowned, was it because of what he had apparently done when he was a baby? If so, he was going to have to set a few things straight among the students of Hogwarts, one of them being to leave him the hell alone, pardon the pun. Maybe Hogwarts wasn't going to be as different from Magic School as he had at first hoped.

Frowning, he removed the sorting hat from his head, gave it one last glare and walked calmly over to the Slytherin table. Well, he at least looked calm. Inside, he was seething, how dare these people make assumptions about him? As he sat down at the least populated area of the table, he felt fire burning behind his eyes and swore. He doubted the using fireballs to blow up one of the other tables would make a good first impression on the school. And he knew he was using his powers from the Source's side of him too much, as much as he wanted to deny it.

Glaring around him, he calmed himself down internally and watched in boredom as the sorting continued. The pudgy-faced, pasty-skinned boy with the toad was sorted into Gryffindor and turned out to be called Neville Longbottom. A sneering boy with slicked blonde hair and arrogant grey eyes called Draco Malfoy was sorted in Slytherin. Malfoy sat down opposite Will and the two boys exchanged nods, seemingly content from then on to ignore each other.

The red-haired boy who had been in their boat turned out to be called Ron Weasley and was sorted into Gryffindor, to the applause of a gaggle of other red-haired boys, whom Will assumed to also be Weasleys. The sorting ended as Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin, and despite Will's glares, took his seat next to him. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the sorting hat away and the last cheers from the Slytherin table died away into silence.

Will recognised Albus Dumbledore as he rose to his feet with a ridiculous smile pasted on his face, his eyes twinkling at Mach 4.

"Welcome, Welcome to a new tear at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank-you."

And Dumbledore sat down again, amidst the laughter of the students. Then the golden plates lining the long house tables were filled with foods of every human variety. To Will, who had on occasion dined with fairies, leprechauns and elves, this was not so amazing, but most of the students were clearly impressed by the display. Will calmly helped himself to several slices of roast beef and filled his plate with the trimmings, before soaking the entire lot in gravy.

Unfortunately, the only drink available seemed to be jugs of pumpkin juice, which Will detested passionately. So he poured himself a goblet and, checking no one was looking, he waved his hand of the gloopy liquid, transforming it into Coca-Cola, mentally thanking future Wyatt for teaching him the spell.

At first the other students ignored him, not speaking to him except to ask for him to pass dishes, or other such tasks. Then Malfoy leant over the table and asked him haughtily,

"Halliwell, who are your parents?"

Dark-haired Zabini, next to him, rolled his eyes, obviously used to Malfoy's antics, while the two lumps of muscle either side of Malfoy continued to glut themselves on food. Will smiled calmly and replied equably,

"It's Halliwell-Turner."

Will felt rather than saw the blood-covered spectre sitting next to him look at him, but he ignored it and watched Malfoy. The blonde shrugged,

"Whatever, who are they?"

Will seemed completely unperturbed by the other boy's arrogant manner, and answered,

"My mother's name is Phoebe Halliwell-Turner and she's an advise columnist for a San Francisco newspaper. My father's name is Cole Turner and he's a senior partner with the law firm Jackman Carter and Kleine."

Malfoy frowned,

"They're muggles?"

Will rolled his eyes,

"If by that you are asking if they're non-magical, then no, they're not muggles. They just happen to have jobs in what you would refer to as the muggle world."

Malfoy sniffed slightly,

"I haven't heard of your family name, what bloodline are you from?"

Will smiled,

"Well, in this world, I'm the sole legal heir to the Potter family. But my mother is, along with her two sisters, the direct descendant of Melinda Warren."

The ghost next to Will spoke up then,

"You are descended from Melinda Warren?"

Will nodded,

"Yes, you knew her?"

The ghost shook his head, well, as much as a ghost could shake his head,

"No, she was before my time, but I have heard of her and the legend of her descendants. You say your mother is one of three sisters?"

Will nodded,

"Yep."

The ghost looked excited, for a ghost at least,

"So they are…?"

Will nodded,

"That would be them."

The ghost was intrigued,

"I haven't heard of your father though."

Will shrugged

"You wouldn't have, not by the name he uses now, anyway."

The ghost leant towards him,

"Then by what name would I have heard of him by?"

Will smiled,

"Balthazar."

The ghost, if it were possible, paled,

"You are his child?"

Will nodded,

"As I have said he is my father, I believe that we have established that fact."

The ghost asked then,

"So, you are partly…?"

Will shook his head,

"No, that part of him died before I was born, quite literally. My powers come from another Source, you might say."

The ghost looked almost afraid, almost.

"You are referring to…"

Will nodded,

"My father was the Source for a time, and it was then that I was conceived."

The ghost paled further, and Will guessed that if he had been alive he would have been an unattractive shade of green. A similar shade, he mused, to the colour he himself had been after he had walked in on his parents at a rather intimate moment and had been the recipient of 'The Talk'.

"So your father is still…?"

Will shook his head,

"Nah. You could say that my mom and her sisters, sorted him out."

Will then turned from the ghost, back to his meal and was pleasantly pleased to discover that it was just as hot as it had been when he had taken the food. Even if the students seemed to have very few redeeming qualities, except maybe for the girl he had sat with on the train, Hogwarts seemed somewhat promising. The food was good, just as good as his Aunt Piper's, the magic was interesting and at least the ghosts were somewhat intelligent.

As he was musing on this, Malfoy spoke haughtily,

"What are you talking about?"

Will turned from his potatoes to the blonde,

"That is none of your concern. Anyone with manners would be able to see that. But you obviously have none. I would ask if you were born and raised in a barn, but you probably wouldn't be able to recognise it as an insult."

Malfoy flushed scarlet and Will thought for an entertaining moment that steam was actually going to come out of the other boy's ears. The Blaise Zabini spoke from where he was sitting watching to interaction with some amusement. The dark-haired boy's voice was dry and sarcastic, and his eyes were a most unusual shade of violet,

"Do feel free to ignore Malfoy. The rest of us do, except for Crabbe and Goyle, who don't have the brains to survive without his intervention. He's a pompous ignorant bastard, but you'll get used to him."

Will smirked slightly,

"You speak from experience?"

Blaise nodded and sighed in a put upon manner as he answered,

"Indeed I do. Our parents are all 'friends' so we all grew up together."

Will shook his head in mock-commiseration,

"So you've head to put up with him all your life?"

Blaise nodded sadly,

"Indeed."

Will looked sympathetic,

"I feel great sympathy for you all."

Malfoy sputtered and Blaise said,

"Oh, put a sock in it Malfoy. He's obviously from a famous wizarding line in America, or the Baron wouldn't have heard of him."

He then turned back to Will,

"Malfoy's not that bad, actually. When he's not being arrogant, that is."

Will smirked,

"That would be when he's asleep?"

Blaise shook his head,

"No, he even snores arrogantly."

Malfoy burst out then,

"I do not snore."

There had been a slight lull in conversation and it lulled further as Draco's high-pitched complaint travelled across the hall. Malfoy turned pink beneath his white-blonde hair and returned his attention to the tureen of Brussels sprouts sitting in front of him. Seeing this, Will grinned wickedly and spoke to Malfoy,

"Hey Malfoy, I know a sure-fire way to check for insanity."

Malfoy looked up at him doubtfully, so Will continued,

"Look at those Brussels Sprouts in front of you. Tell me what you think of them."

Malfoy stared at him, then at the sprouts, then at Will again. Finally he spoke,

"They're…… green."

Will shook his head.

"Beeeeep. Wrong, you're insane. The only sane thing to think when looking at a bowl of Brussels sprouts is; 'Bleargh'."

Both Blaise and Draco gave Will very strange looks and Blaise asked,

"Are all your family like you?"

Will smirked,

"Nah, I'm the sanest one."

Draco shuddered,

"I seriously hope you're lying."

Will smirked wider,

"Oh, absolutely not. I have four cousins and another one of the way. Technically, I have two cousins, but I have two of each one. The older ones are from an alternate future where my mom killed my dad and I was never born. Younger Chris and Wyatt are the biggest pranksters ever. Future Wyatt likes to jump off the Golden Gate bridge and seeing how close he can get to hitting the pavement. And Chris is almost too neurotic to function."

The other two nodded sagely, as if they actually had a clue about what he was talking about. Will sighed and turned his attention back to his Yorkshire Pudding. The rest of the meal passed fairly quietly for Will at least. After the main-courses had all been consumed, the gold platters returned to their earlier sparkling state, until they were once again filled with a wide range of desserts.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat at the high table, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. The last remnants of the puddings disappeared and everyone fell into a hushed silence. Then Dumbledore began to speak,

"Ahem- just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would so well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling gaze fell onto a pair of red-haired twins at the Gryffindor table that Will guessed to be the siblings of Ron Weasley. The Weasley twins smiled and waved back at the headmaster, obviously very unrepentant for breaking the rules. Dumbledore twinkled harder and continued,

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

Will looked at the rather mangy looking man standing at the door of the hall and grimaced. He guessed also that the rule about magic in the corridors was not a rule that was respected much, if the smirks on most of the older students' faces were any indication. Dumbledore seemed to know this as well.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

Will rolled his eyes, he had yet to understand the fascination the wizarding world had for this game Quidditch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed nervously, but most of the students didn't. Somehow, Will knew that Dumbledore was very serious about this particular declaration. But that didn't mean that he wasn't going to find out what was hidden in the school. Then Dumbledore's face brightened,

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Will smirked as he noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. The words of the song flew out of the end of Dumbledore's wand and formed themselves in gold ribbon. Dumbledore beamed at them all,

"Everyone pick their favourite tune, and off we go."

And the school bellowed,

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains rot."

Will picked the Cancan and finished the song as quickly as possible, but the Weasley twins had chosen a slow funeral dirge and were the last to finish, with Dumbledore using his wand as a conductor's baton. Wiping imaginary tears from his twinkling blue eyes, he spoke,

"Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! And now bedtime, off you trot."

The other teachers seemed significantly less saddened by the announcement of it being time to leave. The Slytherin first years followed on behind a burly fifth year prefect called Marcus Flint. Will tried to memorise the route they had taken from the Great Hall, but the winding corridors and passageways that led down to the dungeons were so complicated that he could not. Will had the distinct suspicion that Flint was taking the most complicated possible route down to the dungeons for some obscure reason.

Finally Flint came to a halt in front of a portion of bare, damp stone wall. Flint cleared his throat and the entire group fell silent,

"Try not to forget the password in the first week. It's Salazar."

A concealed door in the stone wall slid open and they entered the Slytherin Common. Will looked around. The Slytherin Common Room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs. A portrait of a serious looking man with green eyes and black hair hung above the fireplace. Flint spoke once again,

"Welcome to Slytherin house. The dormitories are through the far door on the right. Girls are on the right, boys on the left. Don't be late for breakfast and lessons start first thing tomorrow."

With that, Flint scowled at them until they started walking towards the door. Will turned to Blaise and muttered,

"Charming fellow, isn't he?"

Blaise rolled his eyes as they pushed the door to the boys' dormitory open.

"You should see him on a bad day."

Will crossed over to his trunk, pushing the lid open and, after having checked that Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were all otherwise occupied, he withdrew Lilith and placed her under his pillow. He then slipped out of his uniform and into the signed Green Day t-shirt he had gotten when the band had played at P3 during the summer. He set his alarm for six the next morning, thanking Wyatt for enchanting it and his MP3 player to be able to work around magic.

He then nodded to Malfoy and Zabini, turned on his MP3 player, and got into bed, eventually falling to sleep to the opening lines of the Cradle of Filth song 'Ebony Pressed for Sunset'.

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Will woke at six the next morning to the shrill buzzing of his alarm clock. Waving his hand, he turned off the alarm and tried to woke out where he was. The dark green velvet of the hangings around the four-poster bed and the rough stone walls of the dormitory were a far cry from his monochrome oriental style bedroom back at the penthouse where he lived. Then he remembered that he was at Hogwarts and in the Slytherin dormitory.

Slipping silently out of bed, he tiptoed past his sleeping year-mates and into the showers adjoining their dorm. He had a quick but hot shower and dressed in the semi-dark of the underground dorm. He pulled on a faded pair of black Levi's and a Metallica t-shirt. Towelling his hair dry, he pulled his robes out of his trunk and threw them at the end of his bed.

He then found and fed Lilith, telling her to go and look round the school, but not to get into any trouble. Then, he picked up his homework from, well, home and began to work. He had finished the first of his assignments from Magic School, the exceptionally boring essay on the uses of Mugwort, and was just starting on his algebra, when the others in his dorm began to wake.

Malfoy was the first of the others to wake, and the blonde boy ran into the bathrooms and had showered, dressed and spent ten minutes in front of a mirror doing his hair, by the time Blaise awoke. Blaise's early morning routine was similar to Malfoy's except without the hair obsession. By the time The other two boys were both ready for breakfast, Crabbe and Goyle were still snoring away like warthogs. The three boys exchanged glances and Will put down his books and asked,

"I don't suppose either of you have learnt how to wake the two of them up?"

The two shook their heads,

"Not a clue."

Will rolled his eyes,

"You obviously don't have cousins."

It wasn't a question and the other two exchanged confused glances. Will sighed and crossed over to the space between the two beds that Crabbe and Goyle had been allocated. He turned and glared at the two other boys and said in a deadly voice he had learned from his father and future Wyatt,

"You will tell no-one of this."

With that, Will waved his hand and a bucket of water appeared over each of Crabbe and Goyle's heads. The buckets emptied themselves on the sleeping boys below them and then disappeared. The other two stared as the now soaked Crabbe and Goyle sat up in bed, grunting and growling in an animalistic manner. Will scowled at them all and said,

"Get dressed, or we'll be late for breakfast."

With that, Will returned to his bed and picked up his algebra books again and went back to work, ignoring the shocked wizards around him. Finally, Crabbe and Goyle were dressed and washed, so it was time for the new Slytherins to go down for breakfast and their first day at Hogwarts.

TBC.