HARRY POTTER :Dark Kingdom

She caste a few more spells on his trunk, making it as small and light as a deck of cards, which he then placed in his pocket. She caste another spell on the clothes he was wearing, smoothing out the wrinkles he had gained from sleeping in them, and then they were off. They passed through the corridors, offices, dining room, and into the lobby Harry hadn't seen since he had first arrived. It seemed smaller than he remembered, but he didn't get to ponder what that might mean as they continued at a fast clip out the large marble doors and to the black familiar car waiting for them outside.

They climbed into the back, and this time Harry kept his attention glued to the outside, determined to see if they would be magic away like he had from Surrey. In the early morning, it was less crowded with people, and those present were hurriedly on their way to work. However, they were much more unusual in the light of day than they had been in the cover of night. The old-fashion cut of their clothes did not inhibit their sense of color, and by all accounts some of their outfits were quite garish. Bright pinks, purples, lime greens, canary yellows, pin stripes and polka dots, stars and moons, hieroglyphs, and peacock feathers were as common as black, whites, beiges, blues, pocket watches, and flowers. Occasionally, the car would stop at a crosswalk, and a pedestrian or shopkeeper would smile and wave at him. They all seemed so kind and friendly that Harry wondered why Snape had been so cynical about it.

Maybe the man had just wanted to scare him.

Maybe he was just paranoid.

Maybe he was scared of nice people?

The car passed through an alley, and once it had ended, they found themselves in the middle of the Scottish countryside. The land was rich green and partitioned into acreage by short stone walls. There were flocks of grazing sheep and cows here and there, and as far as Harry could tell they weren't in anyway magical. When he looked back in the direction they'd come from, it appeared they had merely passed under a small stone bridge.

"What just happened?"

"It's the same sort of magic we use to take you all to the adoption parties. It's rather complicated, but I'm sure you'll learn all about it in school. Speaking of which, Hogsmeade should be just over this next hill and it's only a short walk from there to Hogwarts."

Sure enough, not a minute later they passed over a hill and found themselves in a small wizarding village. The shops and business here were more quaint than those he had seen in the wizarding city, with mostly specialty shops, an inn, and a tavern. There were a few horse drawn carts and even some people walking around with broomsticks, but no other cars. They parked between The Hogshead and Honeydukes, and started the rest of the way on foot.

As they made their way towards an earthen road out of town, Harry could see what looked like an enormous castle off in the distance.

"Oh wow," he said, staring awestruck at the beautiful monolith. There was no way anything so large and beautiful could have ever been made by means other than magic.

"Wait until you see the inside," his guide said, off-handedly. Harry turned towards her, startled.

"Inside? You mean...that's Hogwarts?"

When he had thought of Hogwarts he had thought of all those fancy boarding schools from TV shows and movies. Wide, two-story buildings with tall windows, wrought iron gates, and expansive grounds. He had not thought of centuries old castles sitting at the top of a large hills, massive lakes, or thick primeval forests. If he'd had a horse, he would have felt very much like a knight on errand to the king of the land.

Or perhaps a squire tagging along.

It was half a mile walk to the castle, and the closer they got the more in awe Harry felt himself become. Not only was the castle rich in detailed statues and structure, but also in exceptionally good shape without a trace of wearing by weather or time. There was also additional structures coming off the castle, including a large green house, an impressive little stadium, a boat house, and stables. A quaint little cottage stood between the stables and the border of the thick forest, and he could just make out the shape of a gaunt looking man and an exceptionally short woman working around the garden surrounding it.

They were met near the castle gates by a witch with a stern look and a streak of silver in her black hair. Harry thought she looked very much like a headmistress at an all girl school should look like. Miss Marilyn, who had been going at a brisk pace, smiled as soon she saw the other woman and spoke rather breathlessly.

"Headmaster Lestrange, I presume?"

The old witch gave her a wry smile.

"Unfortunately, no. Professor Lestrange is very busy at the moment, as is the deputy headmaster. I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor house and transfiguration professor here at Hogwarts. I will handle things from here. You have the paperwork?"

"Oh- oh, yes, just a moment." Miss Marilyn checked her person, pockets, and hat before finally removing a full sized folder from her billowy sleeves. The transfiguration teacher accepted the file, and examined its contents. She suddenly grew pale. Looking up, she resolutely marched around Miss Marilyn and right up to Harry who had been looking out at the lake. He turned to look up at her, and felt concerned by her stricken continence.

"The resemblance is uncanny," she said, almost too softly for him to hear. Then she smiled at him, and Harry couldn't think of last time he had seen a smile so sad or so genuine. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry."

He blinked owlishly at her. No adult had called him Harry since his parent's death. He had always been 'Harold' or 'Mr. Potter' or bloody 'Heinrich'. Could she know him? That would be impossible, of course. She was a witch and wouldn't have known his muggle parents, and he didn't think she was the type to who would ever go visit little art studios in Cologne in any event. It was just coincidence and rather undue familiarity. Nothing more.

"Thank you, professor," he replied politely.

"You may go, Madam McLaury. I will handle things from here. You will have your paperwork by Wednesday evening at the latest."

Once again, Miss Marilyn looked flustered, apparently not used to being dismissed so readily. McGonagall took no notice, and with a gentle touch on Harry's shoulder, she began leading him down towards the little cottage. As they walked, the professor seemed to recollect herself and began to lecture him.

"Mr. Potter, as you probably overheard, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor and your soon-to-be transfiguration's teacher. After today, you probably won't see me until the start of term. Most of the Hogwarts staff is either away enjoying their vacation or busy re-warding the school or making lesson's plans in preparation for the start of term. As such, the school itself is off-limits to the public, that includes you, until September."

"But...where will I be living? And where are the summer classes held, then?"

"You will be living with Mr. and , our resident ground keepers. They are both very busy year around, so if they should ask you for some assistance keeping house or on the grounds, I expect you to mind them as you would your own parents, is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. We will get you settled first, then I will take you to where your summer lessons will be held. Ah, here we are. Mr. Sleuw! Mrs. Sleuw!"

Up close the pair looked even more ridiculously disproportionate than before. Mr. Sleuw was a good six and a half feet, sun-darkened, and almost handsome except that his expression was slack and bland. His wife on the other hand barely reached his navel, had wild honey colored curls, and bounced about like a filly in spring. They were both tending the garden, but dropped what they were doing when McGonagall called them over.

"Oy, now. Is this the lad, then? A strapping young man, tisn't he, although a wee bit thin. Don't you think so Bert?" Mrs. Sleuw gushed, smiling from ear to ear at him. Harry blushed and made a thorough study of his shoes.

"Uhnnnn..." Mr. Sleuw replied, expression as dead as his response.

"Yes, yes, Maggie. His name is Harold James Potter. You can all get better acquainted after his morning classes. Is his room ready?" McGonagall asked.

"Of course, just leave his things there and hurry along. We wouldn't want him late for his first day of class, now would we?"

"No, we wouldn't want that."

McGonagall lead him to the little cottage, and opened the door for him. Harry walked in and his jaw dropped. From the outside the cottage didn't look like could hold more than a small kitchen and an even smaller bedroom, but the inside was a different matter altogether. The interior was the size of a large farm house, with a full sized kitchen, sitting area, dining room, and a set of stairs leading up to a second floor that could not possible have been there. It was all very cozy and rustic, with hand made quilts over the sofa's and chairs, rough wooden furniture, and dried flower decorations scattered about.

They went upstairs and entered one of four rooms there. It was clearly a guest bedroom, and only sparsely furnished. The brass framed bed had a light blue and yellow quilt, the wardrobe matched although the paint was starting to peel, and blue table with an oil lamp stood in the corner. A quick peek out the window revealed the Mr. Sleuw pulling up a particularly tenacious weed and confirmed to Harry he had not been transported through one of those magic portals.

"Do you have your trunk, Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall. Harry nodded and removed it from his pocket. He set it at the foot of the bed, and with a flick of her wand the trunk resized itself. "Gather up your notebook and pen, Mr. Potter. You can unpack the rest of it after class."

He did as he was told, and they left the little cottage. Harry did a double take once they were outside, still baffled by the dimensional disparity. They headed back towards the castle, but instead of returning the way they came, she lead him around the back. The castle turned out to have been built partially in the lake, but a tunnel and bridge allowed them to pass without resorting to a boat. Once on the other side, Harry could see a large tent had been set up, similar to those he and his parents had dined in during German festivals or weddings. His guide stopped him just outside the tent.