Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

Hedwig gently nipped his earlobe and flew away. Before Harry could even ask himself where he was supposed to go, he heard a loud voice, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

He turned and saw a giant man holding a lantern, and Harry smiled to himself. It was time for his magical adventure to truly begin.

The man had a large beard and was far larger than it should be possible, meaning that he probably had some kind of magical ancestry. Harry simply assumed that this was the infamous Hagrid. The stories underestimated how large the man really was. He was at least twice as tall as the average adult man, and the young Potter had to admit that he was slightly intimidated.

He kept calling out for the first years to join him, "C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, the first years followed the giant man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, although everyone looked slightly apprehensive as to what going to happen to them.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," called the maybe-Hagrid over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Harry heard other first years gasping and exclaiming in wonder as they took their first look of Hogwarts. It was breathtaking. By the end of the path stood a large lake that was reflecting the moonlight and the stars. On the other side of the lake stood a beautiful castle with many turrets and towers.

But what was the most breathtaking was the sounds that came into the back of his mind. It was just like the wand shop only thousands of times more intense. There seemed to be infinite heartbeats with different tempos. Some were intense and loud, others seemed kind and smooth, a few seemed strict and calculated, and finally, there were the hidden ones that were only noticeable when you actively look for them. Together, they made a complex yet beautiful symphony, like warmth in musical form, and yet Harry knew that there was no sound. He didn't use his ears to hear, but he also knew that the songs were real.

He didn't know how long he just stood there, revelling in the warmth the music gave him until he stiffened when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Blaise and he looked concerned, "Are you alright?"

He shrugged, "Yes. I was just distracted by the castle."

"Well, we're the last ones without a boat. I guess it'll just be the two of us," Blaise remarked.

Harry nodded and tried to put the symphony to the back of his head. It was still there, in the background, but he wasn't distracted by it anymore. For the first time, Harry noticed the small boats and sat on the last one with Blaise.

"Everyone in?" shouted maybe-Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Yelled their guide as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which revealed a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

"Everyone here?" the giant asked loudly.

Seeing that no one said anything, he raised his gigantic fists and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this woman was a professional. Harry remembered his memories as a teacher and understood the reason for the woman's rigidity. First impressions are very important, especially for young students. Trying to look friendly will mean that you will not be respected, and you won't be able to manage them at all. When students are older, it's alright to be friendly with them, since they understand the dynamic properly. The woman in front of him was without a doubt been a teacher for a long time.

Immediately, Harry assumed that this was Professor McGonagall, and he was proven correct when their guide spoke up, "The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Harry was happy that he had guessed the identity of the giant man correctly.

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