Hi, people! First of all, I'd like to say that English is not my first language, so I'm very sorry if you find spelling mistakes. Believe me, I know how cringy it can be to read something with that type of orthography. So if there are important mistakes feel free to point at them! Secondly, I'd like to point out this is my first story. I've always liked the idea of a different type of character, not the typical one we've all seen in this platform. Usually the OC's are girls who somehow get into a relationship with an important character or some shit like that (Please, if you know about a story with an OC that's worthwhile, tell me about it). Thirdly, I hope you enjoy this fic and live a comment about it, I want to know what you think and how things can be corrected, or even ideas on how to proceed. Thank you very much!
"Meyer, Andrew ElĂas!"
The called eleven-year old noticed sideways that no one seemed to pay any mind of his name; it was just another name among the other ones, nothing interesting to see there. All the students -even some teachers- kept on talking with each other as he made his way to the Sorting Hat.
A sour looking woman waited patiently as he took seat to get sorted. She arched an eyebrow at his cheerless expression.
"Mmm... you surely have an interesting mind with you, boy-"
Said boy made a rasp sound. "I bet you say that to everyone who sits here," he interrupted.
"That's not true; you'd be surprised if you saw other's minds. It's difficult to rescue one which can achieve greater things. However, it always depends in the influence it receives by external sources," said the Sorting Hat with a less cheerful voice.
"You refer to people as if they were 'its'," noted Andrew, not in reproach, but in curiosity.
"Well, you humans refer to me as an 'it', even though I have a conscience as you all have. You also refer to animals as 'it', and they are habitants of this world with the same rights as you."
Was that a reproach he heard in its voice?
"Anyway, as much as I would like to keep talking to you, there's unfortunately a long line of students waiting to get sorted. Is there a House you'd like to get sorted in?"
"Don't know. Don't care," said Andrew, bored.
The Sorting House laughed in a soft manner. "I see. You really are lazy, huh? But is that a mask I see...? You make yourself seen as an unmotivaded and bored person, who doesn't care about anything. But you weren't like that in the past, were you?"
Andrew frowned under the hat. "Just sort me, please. I'm not in the mood for a mother's quarrel. Are you a mother, huh?"
"Lamentably, I don't see you fitting well enough in any of the Houses. You have a mature side that little people seems to appreciate and there's a simplicity in your person that's quite unique."
Andrew didn't like the sound of that. It would mean that his high school life would be too troublesome. He hated troublesome people.
"What do you suggest I do?" he nearly implored.
"In any House you get in, you're going to be seen as the anormal one, but I think it's more important to consider how you'll influence the people around you. I'm not going to sugarcoat this: you're going to have a difficult life. Normal people won't be able to see the beauty in the way you see things."
Andrew understood this. He really did. It was, however, as if a ton of bricks had falled on him. Would he be able to carry this much weight?
"SLYTHERIN!"
Andrew said a quiet 'bye' to the Sorting Hat, ignoring the bewildered expression on the sour teacher's face and walked calmly to the less bright table.
At the moment he sat, many faces around him looked at him in disdain. The most disdainful was of a platinum blonde who seemed to have a wand stuck up his ass, Andrew absently noted.
"Where are you from? I've never heard of your name before. Are you a Mudblood?"
At least he was straight-forward. Even though his character left a lot to be desired.
"I'm from the States. You know, America. And I'm proud to say my surname comes from Julius Lothar Meyer, great chemical who contributed in making the current periodical table. So no, I'm not a 'Mudblood'. My family's pretty decent and there are no weird mutations in our gens caused by incest. Nevertheless, I read that is not the case in lots of families from here, am I right?" Andrew knew he was making a bad move with what seemed to be a very important fellow, but the face he made was worth it. The discontent was perfectly shown in his face, while Andrew's lips merely twitch from amusement. At least he knew that between 'noble' people, making a blank mask was very important to hide any emotions. This blondie was failing miserably. What a disgrace, and he seemed a lot older than him.
"So you are a Mudblood," snarled a girl at his side. She had part of her hair dyed white, as if trying to impress the one next to her or something. It was quite shameful, Andrew thought.
"Look how quiet he is now. You're right, Cissy," another girl parroted at her side.
Cissy looked about to growl. "Don't call me that."
Andrew felt the need to smack his head: he had sat at the tip of the table where the other years started. Why would other year students care about his blood condition? That was stupid. Just go and socialize with the ones of your year; trying to creep out the younger ones's not cool at all. Andrew frowned, his dark eyes glistening with silent anger.
The sorting passed through with no other consideration of him -wich Andrew didn't mind at all- and he watched with a bored semblance as other students were sorted. He arched an unimpressed brow when the Great Hall fell in commotion at the one with surname 'Black' being put in Gryffindor. Why couldn't everyone calm down? It was just a House, for God's sake. It was like in his P.T.'s class back in the U.S. when they were designed into several teams by colors. Who gave a damn about being white, blue or red? So freaking absurd.
After the last one was sorted, the Headmaster started a speech wich he supposed was given every year to the new students, judging by the dull faces many of the older students were making.
The start of the speech was the cue Andrew needed to doze off. He was tired of the long travel and Dumbledore's voice had that specific tint elders used to make their children sleep. He only heard something about not trespassing the Forbidden Forest -it was called Forbidden for something, duh- and someone called Voldemort.
Ah, isn't he that wannabe Dark Lord everyone in Europe are getting crazy about?
At the end of the speech, when Dumbledore indicated the Head Students to lead the first years to their dormitories, someone shaked him timidly to wake up. Andrew opened his eyes and, when he was about to thank the person for waking him up, he or she had disappeared into the crowd of students.
Andrew blinked slowly, trying to keep his vision clear until he reach the bed. The Head Boy, a scrawny but at least intelligent looking guy guided them to the dungeons, where their dormitories were supposed to be. He didn't pay any mind to his words about Slytherin's story as he watched in fascination the moving paintings, the weird-ass ghosts and even the architecture. Everything in the castle seemed to scream alive.
"No more to say, I leave you to get comfortable in your new environments. Remember: men are left side and women right. Last thing we need are first years getting naughty," said the Head Boy as laughs were heard between most of the students.
The Head Boy smiled, finally revealing a more human side of him. "And remember: we Slytherins stick up together. I hope you can all have a good year." Andrew smiled for the first time as he watched the Head Boy bow and leave them. He seemed to be a nice guy, Andrew mused.
Andrew went to the left as he looked for his bed, which was named after him somewhere. When he finally found it, he rested his trunk on the sheets, as he took out the materials for class and his clothes. At the bottom lied a photo. He grimaced and hide it below a random piece of cloth. He sighed; he didn't want to look at it now. Putting his wand under his pillow, he went to the bathroom, where some other students of his age were preparing and washing themselves to sleep. He stepped next to a greasy black-haired guy who was currently glaring at the mirror as if there was an irremovable stain. He was still frozen in spot, even as Andrew finished brushing his teeth. Andrew looked around, noticing that everyone was ignoring his strange behaviour. He was about to place a hand on the black-haired's shoulder, when someone harshly took his wrist and took him out of the bathroom.
"Hum, what was that for?"
"Don't bother with him. He's not going to talk back to you," the one who took him away back to their bedroom was a dusty blonde who Andrew presumed was Avery, his bed neightbour. His other neightbour was someone by the name of Severus Snape.
"Why wouldn't he talk back to me?" asked Andrew curiously.
Avery snorted. "He's upset because his girlfriend ended up in Gryffindor. Poor lad, she's never going to talk back to him ever again."
Now Andrew was terribly confused. "Why wouldn't she?"
Avery looked at him as if he was insane. "Why wouldn't she? She's a Gryffindor, you idiot. Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other. Everyone knows that, even the ones who haven't come to Hogwarts," he then narrowed his eyes. "Are you a Mudblood?"
Andrew frowned, unable to conceive this idea. What was the point of hating each other because of being from different colours or houses? That's moronic.
"My blood's healthy enough, thanks for your concern. And I haven't heard of Hogwarts until very recently. I actually come from the US."
Avery's eyes lit up in interest. "Really? I haven't met a foreigner in a long time. Why are you here in Hogwarts if there is a magic school there? Or did your parents thought Hogwarts's better than Ilvermorny?"
"Yes, it's because of that," lied Andrew.
Avery opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted as the black-haired finally left the bathroom. Somberly, he eyed Andrew and Avery and simply made his way to where 'Severus Snape' was written.
"Goodnight to you too," huffed Avery in distaste, as Snape's form disappeared under the warm sheets.
Andrew didn't say nothing, as he watched Avery going to his bed. The bedroom was now completely dark and, ironically, Andrew, -who was the more eager in getting to sleep- was the last one to fall asleep.
