I am so excited about this story! Always read and review^^ cookies for anyone who does.
My birthday yesterday was a huge deal. Turning eighteen in the muggle world is, of course, the signal that a young teenage is now an adult. Hey, you're a day older, go out and vote in our government! But even though my parents threw me the party of any girls' dreams, it wasn't my dream. They invited all of our neighbors and all off my "friends", who weren't really friends at all. No one from Hogwarts was invited.
Yeah, what a shocker. I know, an American girl who attended a boarding school somewhere in Scotland. (There was a reason I never had friends when I was home over Summer Holiday.) Actually, I went for seven years, from eleven until I was seventeen, which was the full term allowed at the school. Hogwarts was home for me. I think it may always be. I longed wistfully for September first to come, when I could run, dragging my book laden cart through a solid brick wall, emerging onto a completely magical platform. It was an easy way to escape my parents. They didn't understand me, had never tried. They just called me a "textbook rebel" to all of their friends. I will admit, I laughed when I overheard them saying that particular phrase for the first time.
They had no idea why I "rebelled", not that they ever attempted to find out. I preferred to keep it that way, though. No one needed to know about my personal pain, my personal suffering. It was something I locked deep inside my heart, only let out when I was alone, and then only when it was absolutely necessary.
It was the secret of my sister's death. Zoey was eleven months older than me, to the day. Even though she was the elder, I made it my goal to always protect her. She was sweet, shy, and always gentle. As the complete and utter opposite, it made sense to my loyal, child-like mind to be there for her, whether she fell and scraped her knee, or the bully down the block called her Blondie" and made her cry.
We were opposite in looks as well. I was dark to Zoey's light- Black hair, dark grey-green eyes, and tan skin as opposed to blond hair, right blue eyes, and pale, silky skin.
I should've been able to protect her, whether the man turned on me instead or not. It also shouldn't have mattered so much, but it did. No one at school noticed when I came back broken, harder, and mire jaded than I was before the Summer Holiday. It was chalked up to my introversive personality. Apparently no one remembered my innocent outgoingness of my eleventh year. I almost don't remember that time about myself. It's hard to think back to before, when I was so unaware, so innocent. But when I force myself to, I always start back at the first time I saw Hogwarts. It was the most terrifying and exhilarating moment of my, at the time, short life.
"Firs' years this way! Come on yeh lot, haven' got all ni', have we?" A booming disembodied voice calls. Shoves from excited, eager students throw me forward, sending me sprawling, undignified, to the ground. The overwhelming volume of welcoming cries frightens me. I'm used to a small relaxed town, not this huge, bustling train station. Too scared to face the imposing wall of students again, I stay sitting, scooting closely against a lone, brick pillar placed seemingly at random. Curling my arms around my knees, I pull them to my chest, resting my head on my kneecaps.
"Need some help?" A cheerful, female voice asks from above me. The small girl is pretty, obviously someone who'll be a knockout someday. "I'm Alexandria Lewis." She announces with confidence. "You're a first year like me. I can tell." Alexandria's voice rings with assurance, a self-esteem I wish I had. "Come on! We'll miss the boats!" She reaches out and pulls me up with one hand, dragging me along. I offer her no resistance, too shocked by her blatant friendliness to do anything but gape at the brown-haired eleven year old. "See you later, Alex?" My new friend asks an older boy standing nearby, who had, until now, gone unnoticed. He watches in obvious and extreme amusement at Alexandria's oblivious and friendly nature.
"Sure, Squirt." He replies, bright blue eyes sparkling. It's said with such affection that I come to the conclusion that they're siblings. "Go on, I'll see you at the feast." He assures Alexandria with this statement, or tries to, I notice with amusement, considering she doesn't seem to need it at all. I look back and forth between them, having fun at finding the physical similarities between the two. Same blue eyes, same chocolate brown hair, and, much to my enjoyment, same standing posture. "See you around as well, Squirt's new friend." Alex says, grinning.
I blush hotly, looking down at my black converse shoes, painfully aware that I'd been caught staring at the handsome boy. "Aurora." I mutter, my voice a near whisper. "My name is Aurora."
Alex bows deeply, his eyes glittering with fun. I almost expect him of mocking me, but staring into his kind eyes, I realize he wouldn't try that- at least not to a terrified first year. "It is my greatest pleasure to meet you, Aurora." He says, picking up my limp hand easily and cradling it with his. My already hot flush burns brighter.
Thankfully, Alexandria steps in before I spontaneously go up in flames. "Alexander Lewis, stop it!" She exclaims in a, what I assume to be, rare time of anger. The boy in question backs away, looking down at the spit-fire in shock and amusement, listening to her tirade. "You're embarrassing my new friend, and probably scaring her as well! She's new, and was just trampled by giants like yourself, and now you're being goofy!"
I look away towards the swarm of people fighting for the horseless carriages, stifling giggles, liking the defense my new friend gave me. Alex notices, not exactly surprisingly, and smiles at me, just a bit wickedly. I step away, moving closer to Alexandria, my blush returning quickly, making him chuckle.
"I apologize." He says gravely, holding a hand out towards me, obviously wanting me to shake it. I grasp it warily, something that he notes with a crooked smile. We shake, Alexandria watching her brother like a hawk, Alex ignoring her on purpose.
"Las' call fer firs' years! All yeh lot, come on!"
The younger girl gives her elder brother a stern glare, takes my hand firmly, and leads me away again, this time towards a giant of a man. Wearing a fur, knee-length coat and rough-looking clothes, the beard-covered man looks both of us over. He nods gruffly when no one else shows up and herds all of us towards a glistening black lake. I step gingerly into a boat after Alexandria, noting absently the two other tiny first years that nearly crawled in after me.
"Alexandria?" I ask quietly, scared to ask the question, but terrified not to.
"Yes?" She turns to look at me, giving a calmly knowing look at the way I'm staring apprehensively into the lake. "There's a giant squid, mer-people, grindylows, other creatures, and some fish." Alexandria says all of this with a mischievous glint in her eyes, but her face remains sympathetic and somber.
I try to come up with an adequate retort, but end up gasping in astonishment when the boat smoothly glides around a bend. "What is that?" I whisper faintly, absently, staring in awe at the castle before me.
"That," Alexandria says with satisfaction, "is Hogwarts. Pretty, isn't it?"
"Understatement of the year." I breathe. The castle seems to rise out of the water, growing larger, looming over us as we move closer to it. The breeze brings the cool scent of pine trees, sharp and fresh, as well as the cool, dark rain-scented smell drifting off the still waters around us as the boats cut through it. The building is majestic, timeless, yet ages old. Wisdom seems to weep from all the cracks in the walls and surrounds us comfortably as we draw steadily nearer it sends all of us first years into a stunned, respectful awe.
"This way, this way. Don' want ta be la' fer yeh own sortin', do yeh?" The gruff giant asks. He leads us through an enormous set of double doors, and I grasp onto Alexandria's robe, not wanting to be left behind. The huge room we step into is just as elaborate as the outside of the castle, albeit in a different way. Rather than rough stone, marble makes up everything around us. The stairs, the walls, the floors, even the ceilings are a mixture of smooth grays and creamy beiges swirled together.
As a group we sidle into another large room, this one filled with four long tables. They are nearly identical, except for the different colored ties wrapped neatly around each student's neck. I'm painfully aware of the curious stares cast our way as we walk between two tables up to a small stool with a ratty hat sitting atop it. Curious about what it's for, I forget it completely when I spot a stern-looking lady in jade-green robes.
Unrolling a stained parchment, the woman opens her mouth to let loose a Scottish brogue. "When you hear your name, come forward and sit on this stool. The hat will then proceed to sort you." I quickly glance around at my fellow first years as well as the older students, but seem to be the only person concerned about how an inanimate hat is going to be sorting us. The woman gives a glance over her half-moon glasses, and then reads the first bane on the list. "Vincent Ashcroft." The two names sound as if they're separated by a period, and I watch in morbid fascination as a scrawny, pale boy stumbles forward and crashes into the stool, rather than sitting.
To my immense surprise, when the pointed, ratty looking had is set on the terrified boys head, it opens its mouth and starts muttering to itself. Vincent freezes, trying to get a glimpse of the now animated hat whispering about great minds and courage. It only succeeds in making him look cross-eyed. Suddenly, the hat falls silent and the spit that is its mouth opens wide. "HUFFLEPUFF!" It shouts, and a middle table to my left bursts into wild cheers. The poor boy looks extremely relieved and hops up to run to the older students at the Hufflepuff table he obviously knows. Halfway there, Vincent realized the magic hat still rests precariously on his head. Face bright red, he plods back towards the intimidating professor, waiting only until she lifts it off his head to slumps back to his seat, sinking down as if to disappear. The whole Great Hall rings with soft giggles and laughter at his expense.
With a single clearing of a throat from the lady calling out the names, the entire room quiets to a deathly silence. "Sirius Black." Is the next name that flies from her lips, but with an inflection that was absent before. It makes me curious: distaste?
This boy, unlike the one before him, confidently strides to the front of our group. He plops down on the stool, unconcerned, looking for the entire world as if he'd always been there. I wrinkle my nose in an echo of the professors' distaste. Jerk, my mind immediately decides. The witch hat sits on his head for only a moment before yelling, "GRYFFINDOR!" A sea of red and gold erupts, easily twice as loud as the group from before. Prancing off happily, Black grins smugly, acting as though he didn't have a care in the world. I make a decision not to like the full of himself boy.
I space out after that, unconcerned with the sorting, instead looking up at a ceiling of stars. It's hard to tell the difference of the magically floating lit candles and small twinkling dots amongst the clouds.
I zone in again only because of the oddness of the boy's name. Remus Lupin. Surprising me, he steps forward with a calm no one else possesses. Not an obnoxious confidence like Black had, but a composed air of someone used to situations like these. That he's sorted into Gryffindor doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Unfortunately, he heads straight for Black, a small smile on his face. I sigh. No friend there, apparently. I look next to me so I can whisper my thoughts to Alexandria, but in the time I was spaced out, she'd disappeared. I quickly, nervously, scan the room, finding her at a table full of blue and silver, trying to grab my attention.
My attention lapses soon after, lasting until another boy, James Potter, is called. He has the same look Black did, and it irritates me. I stifle giggles as a small, red-headed girl sticks out a foot to trip him as he struts by. The small, greasy-looking kid next to her smirks triumphantly. He stumbles over her foot, but manages to catch himself, and she seems disappointed that he won't be embarrassed. After being sorted into Gryffindor as well, he cockily struts, grinning at Black, over to the empty seat across from Remus.
There are only five of us left now, and I look around to see the other four stiff, but in control. All four are called before me, and all four are sorted into Slytherin. He Gryffindor's jeer at this news, but the hollers from the opposite side of the room nearly overwhelms the protests anyways.
Suddenly, I'm the only one left standing. I feel my face heat slowly as every eye turns to me, waiting curiously for my name to be called. "Aurora Zetas." I give her credit for not mispronouncing my name, but as the hat falls over my head, obscuring my vision, my only thought us that I not be in the same house as Black.
The hat, much to my alarm, seems to hear my thoughts and mutters indignantly something about knowing what's best; eventually, it comes to a decision and I hear it take a deep breath.
"RAVENCLAW!" I grin from ear to ear when I see Alexandria clapping and motioning for me to join her. I turn around to set the hat gingerly on the stool once more and meet the eyes of an ageless looking man; one with sparkling blue eyes and deep purple robes, and a long white beard tied with a beaded string just above his waist. My eyes widen when he winks at me and smiles. I quickly run towards my friend, happy when I reached her that the food magically appearing had distracted all the stares away from me.
"Congratulations." A voice says from the other side of Alexandria. I blush when realize its Alexander. Obviously he was in my new house, too. I was too embarrassed earlier to notice the silver and blue tie that, hanging around from his neck, seemed glaringly obvious now. I stare at his tie, blocking everything else out, trying to figure out how I hadn't noticed before. He reaches across his sister to rap his knuckles against my black hair. "Anyone home?" Alexander teasingly asks, grinning widely at the tide of red sweeping my face. I remain silent, my voice lost somewhere on the trip out. "Rory?" His smile fades. At my shocked expression, his grin breaks loose again. "You don't mind if I call you Rory, do you?"