Creative Writing Piece
Jericho-Castigor goes to Hogwarts
By SKARBRAND
Chapter 1: The Sorting Hat
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else that is recognisable.
The story starts at the sorting, because of Alexander's gruesome past and also, because he apperates directly to Hogwarts. Here Mr Ollivander gives him his father's wand, to use.
SLYTHERIN. One word would doom an entire world to a million fates, but with only one outcome. The magical world would rue the day when Jericho, son of Jacob the 1st and heir to the Royal-House of Castigor, came into their lives. Although he was but barely ten thousand years old, he was already an advanced wizard for one of Narmania, having been trained by multiple Dark-Lords of renown including Magnus and Salazar.
I could feel the tension building in the Great Hall; all the eyes around me in the Hall were waiting to see who I was, the small and chunky boy with shining white hair and distant-looking blue eyes. While I was remembering my far gone childhood; I kept on remembering my joy at being accepted into Hogwarts, although I would have preferred Dumstrang or Arkangelica, even so I now felt nervous seeing all those eyes staring at my blocky form, and seeing my true self.
I stretched my small and bony, pale hand into my left-hand pocket of my robes, and felt the unusual wooden feeling of my new wand in my hand. I was remembering Mr Ollivander, who had looked frightened, as he had shown me my father's wand. Although I hadn't understood why, I knew that was for another time and place, and had left it at that. My wand was a 30cm long beauty, made out of Yew. Ollivander had told me that my new wands core was made out of a Dementors soul. I hadn't even known they even had souls, strange.
As I looked back over his short life; I remembered the countless hours of drill practice, the searing Artic wind blasting in my face, as I climbed the mountains back home. Home, oh home, I could remember so many sights and smells, from the smell of warm soup in the evening to the sight of a falling star.
I could also recall the agonizing pain of any failures that had occurred, but I overlooked that, as I was now where I wanted to be, Hogwarts.
As the great Oak doors leading to the Hall opened I had felt a momentary sense of unease and doubt at my decision for coming here. But as I now looked upon the crowds of children up to teenagers, just waiting for a leader like myself he felt content once more. So I now felt content, so much that I even nearly missed out on my own name. But there it was; Jericho Castigor called out by my new Headmistress, Professor McGonagall.
I walked the twenty or so steps up to the chair, and the hat. The Hat, it was funny that such a prestigious school still relied upon a hat to choose what house you were in, but no matter. As I walked towards it, I could feel the eyes of the rest of my new school burrowing into my backside. As the hat fell onto my head, it flinched at the shear power that I possessed.
My, my what a powerful young one you are Master Castigor. He felt the hat whisper in his head. I see your fate is laid out like a map, showing me your path. Well I see no alternative…SLYTHERIN.
My head spun, I was there, in my house. I gently put the hat back on its chair and walked proudly over to the Slytherin table. They were cheering me, me. I was honoured by their gratitude and praise.
The sight of a table of cheering, green and black characters filled my vision. I loved their praise, and sucked it up like I was armed not with a wand, but with a straw. Maybe I was going to enjoy this year more than I originally thought.