Muggle-Raised Champion

Let There Be Light

Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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 12:20pm

Thursday, 3 November 1994

Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

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Harry stepped into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, looking around with interest.

His first thought was that it was positively huge, easily three or four times the size of Stonewall High's exercise gym. Four long tables ran the length of the hall, bench seating on either side, obviously for the four Houses to eat at. A fifth table, this one much smaller, ran perpendicular to the others, sitting up on the raised platform.

For the teachers, he figured.

One side of the hall was bedecked in great stained-glass windows, letting in sheets of light, while above him, the ceiling mimicked the sky outside, complete with clouds gliding across it. Magic, he had to remind himself. Dozens of wall scones dotted the walls, waiting to light the room at night, not that Harry could tell how just wall sconces would be enough to light up a room this size.

His inspection was interrupted by a trio of boys materialising in front of he and his four new friends. Harry's eyebrows rose even as he internally berated himself. Two of these boys were built along the same lines as Dudley and were obviously not people that one should normally be able to overlook. The expression on their faces made him believe that they were probably just as smart as Dudley was as well.

The third boy was different. His platinum blonde hair was immaculately slicked back with nary a hair out of place. His green-trimmed black robes appeared to be of the highest quality and his facial expression telegraphed his high opinion of himself for the world to see. Harry was content to reserve judgement before deciding if the boy's opinion of himself was justified.

"Finally decided to come to Hogwarts, did you, Potter?" the blonde-haired leader of the three drawled.

"Hi, you obviously already know that I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you," Harry said with a false cheeriness.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and that's Goyle," he said, indicating the two hulking brutes behind his shoulders, "and I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Are you really?" Harry replied, thrusting his hand out to be shaken. "I've never met anyone named Draco before. That's kind of a cool name."

Draco Malfoy seemed slightly taken aback by that and it took him a couple of seconds to return to what was obviously a pre-prepared speech.

"Now that you're here, you'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry had noted the way Malfoy's eyes darted to both Neville and Hermione as he stated 'the wrong sort'. And in that, Harry had the boy's measure.

"Can you really?" he asked eagerly. At Malfoy's conceited nod, Harry continued. "In that case, I'd better know before I go wrong: what makes a family the right or the wrong sort?"

Malfoy stared at him before his face morphed into what was seeming to be its customary expression: a haughty sneer.

"Well, you see, Potter, most of it comes down to breeding," Malfoy explained.

"Breeding, you say?" Harry echoed thoughtfully, momentarily ignoring the horrified expressions that Hermione, Neville and Susan were now throwing him.