Harry wondered at this. He had come to suspect that places where magic took place, or where a lot of magic users congregated, became imbued with said magic, enough that someone in tune with the mystical energy could feel it. Was that what he felt here? Had the thousands upon thousands of students Hogwarts had hosted throughout the centuries imbued so much magic into the castle walls that the entire school had become sentient? A being of pure magic that went beyond the rock and stone that composed it?
Harry didn't know, but like everything else he had seen and felt since entering this world, he had every intention of finding out.
"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant called out as he pointed toward the small fleet of boats sitting on the shore. Harry didn't particularly care who he sat with—though a part of him did wish he hadn't lost Hannah or Susan—and just sat in the closest boat to him. He was joined by three other people, including the brunette girl he had met in Madam Malkin's.
"Everyone in?" asked the large man in a loud voice. "Right then—forward!"
As the boats began to glide across the waters surface, Harry took a second to look at the two occupants he had yet to meet. His gaze first drifted toward the male of the duo, tall and dark skinned, with high cheek bones and slanted eyes. His facial structure held a distinct Italian appearance.
His eyes flickered towards the other member of their troupe, a pretty girl with long blond hair flowing down her back in gentle waves and cold blue eyes like two chips of ice. Her cheek bones were slightly higher than average and a bit more defined, yet still soft. They gave her a much more regal bearing, much like Andromeda. Harry suspected she was a pure-blood witch. She looked much more mature than the brunette beside him, and not just her physical appearance.
"Hey! I remember you from Madam Malkin's!" The brunette exclaimed upon getting a better look at him as the moon cast its gentle glow upon their boat. The other two turned to look at Harry upon hearing the exclamation.
Harry's lips twitched ever so slightly as he stared at the brunette. "And I remember you," he replied, only a small hint of the amusement he felt entering his voice. "Not that I'm surprised by this. Our meeting was quite... memorable."
The girl flushed as she, too, remembered their first meeting.
"I don't believe we properly introduced ourselves back then," he said, holding out his hand to the girl, who took it without hesitation. Harry gracefully brought it to his lips, brushing them lightly against her knuckles. In light of the moon, her blush became incandescent. "My name is Harry Potter."
Harry felt his eyebrow twitch when the dark-skinned boy's eyes widened and traveled to Harry's forehead and the scar shone there. Like her counterpart, the blond's eyes also widened and looked toward his scar. However, those icy blue irises narrowed a second later and a calculating appeared on her face.
The brunette's reaction was by far the most amusing of the three. She squeaked, her hand jerking back as if burned and her face turning so red he thought it might catch fire.
"Harry Potter!?" she asked in shock. "You mean to tell me that all this time I was talking to the Harry Potter and I didn't even know it? Why didn't you tell me?"
Harry shrugged. "It never really came up in our conversation, and besides, you didn't ask for my name."
"Well... I suppose I didn't, did I?" the girl asked, embarrassed as she realized he was right. She had been far too busy discussing Hogwarts and making a fool of herself by insulting the House of the person pinning her robes. "Still, I wish I had known I was talking to Harry Potter back then."
"Would it have made a difference?" asked Harry. The brunette opened her mouth to reply, no doubt to inform him that, yes, it would have made a difference, but he spoke first. "You know now, and you still haven't given me your name."
She blushed again. "Right, sorry." A second later she gained her second wind, and all embarrassment emanating off her person vanished as if it had never existed. It was almost like she had flipped a switch. "I'm Tracey Davis."
"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Davis," Harry inclined his head, before turning to the other two. "And may I know your names?"
"Blaise Zabini," the dark skinned boy said and, after a moments hesitation, held out his hand. Harry grasped it firmly within his own and gave a strong shake.
"Blaise..." Harry murmured. "If I'm not mistaken, that's a French name derived from the Latin blaesus, and was the name of the tutor and later biographer of Merlin when he started traveling around Britain."
Blaise's left eyebrow raised. "You are correct on both accounts."
"And yet Zabini is an Italian name," Harry continued with a smile. "Your eyes suggest you are of Italian descent, yes?"