Just an idea I got watching DH part 2 for the millionth time. Enjoy!
The sounds. The owls hooting, the toads croaking, the kids running back and forth saying goodbye to their parents.
Evangeline Ravenclaw stood under the Platform 9 ¾ sign, looking especially small in her new Hogwarts robes, pushing a trolley laden with worn trunk, cat carrier and several packages that wouldn't fit into the trunk, savoring the absolute normalness of the scene. She had longed to come to Hogwarts, longed to be part of the crowd that pushed against her now, but at this moment she was unsure. She wasn't normal—as the direct descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, with the telltale features, she was usually picked out in a crowd. But right now she was wearing her pointed wizard's hat, which cast her face into shadow, and standing away from everybody. That is, until a boy strode up to her.
'Hullo. Who are you?'
His voice was dull, like he was used to not getting an answer. He held out his pale hand.
She gulped. As soon as she told him, everyone would know.
"Evangeline Ravenclaw."
He smiled, gripping her hand in a tight shake. "Interesting last name. Are your parents pure-blooded? I'm sure my father was. My mother, not so much, I don't think. She died like a—a non-magical person."
Evangeline smiled. Someone else who was an orphan. "My mother was Ophelia Ravenclaw. You know, granddaughter of Rowena Ravenclaw? I don't know my father. They're both dead now, anyways. Are you an orphan, too?"
He brushed the question off. "Yes. Now, who is Ravenclaw? Should I know her?" Evangeline nodded. "She was one of the house founders. But—well—who are you?"
He smiled again, teeth the same colour as his pale face. "Tom. Tom Riddle."
Evangeline sat with Tom on the train, exchanging questions—"What are the four houses?" "Did you live in an orphanage, too?" "What was your parents' lineage?" By the time she got to the front doors of Hogwarts, she felt as if she had gained a new friend. Tom was interesting, quizzical, smart. Plus, she could tell him all she knew about Hogwarts.
"And the ceiling? It's enchanted to look like the sky outside. And—" Tom cut her off with another question. "Evangeline, what house should I want to be in?" She smiled. Here was an easy question.
"Well, I'm bound to be in Ravenclaw, it's the house of wit and smarts and things, and all my family has been in it—I love the house, you know, just an inner feeling that I have, so I'm honestly not worried at all about me being put in there. And I hope that you are, too, because you do seem the type—but Gryffindor's a good option, too, it's the house of bravery. And Hufflepuff should always be third choice, it's really the helpful house, caring that sort of thing. But I would hate to be in Slytherin. He left, you know, he left the foursome, and the house is all about dark magic. So, really, just be worried about Slytherin. I hope I see you in Ravencalw!"
For Professor Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher, had just called Tom's name. He set the hat on Tom's head, and it remained there for nearly two minutes, before the hat yelled, with a mighty, rebounding voice, "SLYTHERIN!"
Evangeline gave Tom a sad face as he walked to the table decked in green, but then Dumbledore called out, "Ravenclaw, Evangeline!" and she skipped forward, amid the whispers from fellow classmates.
She knew it. She knew it was going to be. She was going to be part of Ravenclaw house.
The hat knew. It would tell her. And it didn't even land on her head (she could barely hear it say, "yes, most definitely,") before the Hogwarts Sorting Hat yelled out its final decision.
"SLYTHERIN!"
