A young girl stood by the door in the Headmaster's office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her inky black hair tumbled down her back, and intelligent green eyes roved hungrily over a bookshelf across the room. Her hands itched to grab one of the tomes in front of her and read it, but her feet stayed firmly planted at the door in their mismatched socks and scuffed shoes.
Standing next to her were James and Lily Potter. Both were not looking at the girl standing next to them, their attention instead focused on a boy sat atop a three-legged stool in the middle of the office. Harry Potter's hair, a replica of his father's, was hidden under a scraggly old hat, and eyes that were carbon copies of his mother's emeralds were twisted tightly shut. His hands were clenched around the sides of the stool, and more often than not a frown would appear on his face before being smoothly wiped away.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat yelled suddenly, making the girl jump. Her attention snapped from the interesting book titles to the boy on the stool, who had been descended upon by his parents.
"Oh honey, we're so proud of you," said Lily, hugging her son tightly as Dumbledore removed the Sorting Hat from his head. James fondly ruffled his hair with one hand.
"Carrying on the Potter Legacy, son," he crowed jubilantly. Harry absently patted his hair back down, instead staring at the Sorting Hat in Dumbledore's hand.
The Hat stared back, before speaking to the boy. "I stand by my choice," he said, and only Laelynn noticed how Harry's grin tightened before he turned away. He let himself be kissed again by his mother, and the worry disappeared from his features.
Dumbledore smiled at the family, before turning to the girl still standing by the door. "Ms Potter," he said cooly, gesturing to the stool with his hand. Lily dragged her son past, promising to get him a treat for getting into Gryffindor, while her husband trailed after.
"You'll get yourself home?" he asked the girl still standing by the door. She nodded once, short and jerky, and James replied in turn before dashing down the stairs to his family.
The girl turned back to the Headmaster, taking in his stiff posture and eyes like cold steel, before sitting, slowly, carefully, on the three-legged stool in the centre of the room. The Hat was placed roughly on her head, and Dumbledore moved to sit behind his desk, attention already moved from the girl in front of him to the reports he had to write.
'Who do we have here?' questioned a voice in her head, and the girl's eyes widened ever so slightly, before clamping tightly shut.
'Are you the Sorting Hat?' she thought against the darkness of her eyelids.
'Well who else would I be?' was the slightly scathing reply, yet the girl felt that the voice wanted to say something more. 'Let's see what we have here,' was said, and the girl felt the Hat straighten slightly on her head as it (supposedly) looked through her memories.
'Hmm,' it finally said, 'Yes, a fine mind here, that's for sure. There's a lot of loyalty too, right next to equal measures of bravery and cunning. That's a dangerous combination, that is.'
'Why?' she asked, curious. There was a long silence (though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds) before she got a reply.
'You're brave enough and and cunning enough to do anything for someone you're loyal to,' the Hat replied, 'and with your intelligence you could pull it off.' She supposed she could see the logic in that, but—
'Why is that a bad thing?' she asked. This time the Hat answered faster, but there was still a gap between the end of her sentence and the beginning of its.
'It isn't bad,' it said, 'Not always. But you wouldn't survive Slytherin for seven years: too much bad blood. And while Gryffindor is where I placed young Harry Potter, you would not reach your full potential.'
'So that leaves Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff,' she said, before the Hat could start speaking again. There was the feeling of a laugh as the Hat continued.
'Yes, that leaves Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. So impatient!' the Hat mock-scolded, but before she could apologise it was speaking again. 'Now, I think we both know you would do best in RAVENCLAW,' it said, and the last part was shouted to the nearly-empty office. 'Talk to me again, my dear, after your journey.'
'What journey?' she thought, but Dumbledore was already yanking the Hat from her head.
"You're a Ravenclaw then," he said, and the girl could detect the slightest hint of surprise in his tone. Before she could question it, however, he was ushering her to his fireplace.
"You know where to Floo to," he said. It wasn't a question, and she didn't offer an answer. She merely took a small handful of the green powder and threw it into the fireplace, then stepped into it herself. The fire gently tickled her skin as she spoke.
"Potter Manor," she said quietly but clearly, and as she spun away in flames the colour of her eyes, her last view of the Headmaster's office was the Sorting Hat nodding at her from it's place on a shelf.
The office was quiet again, except for the scratching of a quill and the rustling of papers as Albus Dumbledore got on with his work. The Sorting Hat was silent once more from it's spot on the shelf, only giving a long nod to Fawkes, them pointing with the tip of it's point to five of the books on the shelf below it before settling into sleep until September 1st.
After Dumbledore had left his office for the evening, five of his books disappeared in a flash of fire. When he later wondered where they had gone, the phoenix merely gave him a doleful stare.
In Potter Manor, a girl was woken by five rather heavy books landing on her head. "Oh, not again."
Hi guys! This is what I thought Laelynn's sorting would be like in my universe, and I thought you guys deserved something better than empty promises, so here's a tidbit to tide you over until I next update.
(If you want to see anything form Laelynn's past, please please please tell me, because I'd love to know what you want to read next.)