Hello again, my good readers! Welcome to my second story ever, this time for Harry Potter. The summary says it all---Albus's...interesting...third year. I'm no J.K. Rowling, but I hope this is pretty good. (Sorry if I upset anybody about Lily and her House.)
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
Chapter One: Lily's Sorting
Lily Potter's teeth chattered uncontrollably from a combination of both nerves and cold. She huddled against her friend Cassandra and stared up at the faraway ceiling. It was the perfect image of the miserable weather outside. Why couldn't she have crossed that lake on a nice night? With stars twinkling overhead and the calm surface of dark water reflecting the luminous crescent moon? Instead she got this night. Sleet!
"Danworthy, Michael!" called Neville from the top of the hall. A swarthy boy with curly black hair stepped timidly up to him and sat on the old stool. Neville placed the Sorting Hat on the boy's head. The hat didn't move. Then, suddenly, the rip on its brim opened wide and it bellowed:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Once again, all the first years jumped.
Michael Danworthy took his proper place at the Slytherin table, a small smile playing on his lips. Lily saw her older brother, James, watching him with a contemptuous look.
"Nearly to you," Lily muttered in Cassandra's ear. She nodded shakily.
Sure enough, the next name called out was "Dillard, Cassandra," and she walked, stumbling a bit over her long robes, to the stool. The hat pondered for a moment, before calling out:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Cassandra beamed at Lily, walking over to sit by Rose, Lily's cousin. Lily gave her a thumbs-up.
Neville went on down the long list of children's names. Finally, he came to "Oydle, Joshua," and Lily smoothed back her sopping wet hair; Soon, the word "Potter" would ring out around the hall, and it would be her turn. Sooner than she thought, in fact.
"Potter, Lily!" Neville looked up from his parchment. Lily took one last look at the ceiling---as if to say, "Well...wish me luck..."---and stepped to. Smiling kindly at Lily as she ambled onto the wooden stool, Neville put the hat gently on her head. It slipped down to the bridge of her nose, so that all she saw was blackness.
Unsurprisingly, a brief yet detectable ripple of murmuring soared through the students at the sound of her name. Lily grimaced. She could picture her cousin Hugo blathering away about her all too easily. She hoped he wouldn't make her out to be a prat before she was even sorted. She didn't want people to hate her without a good reason.
Without warning, her fretting was cut off by a voice that seemed to come from inside her own head.
"Another Potter, eh? Yes...you'll do nicely, my dear."
She jumped. It must be the hat speaking to her.
"Intelligent...loyal...fair...my, you are a well-rounded girl. Oh, where to put you...where to put you?"
She began to feel very nervous. It hadn't occurred to her until just now that she might be put into a house other than Gryffindor. What if she was in Slytherin?
"Such a decision...clever...brave...such a choice!"
No, she had a feeling the Sorting Hat wouldn't put her in Slytherin. In fact, she didn't think it would put her in Ravenclaw, either...
"I suppose...yes, that would be best...all right, then!"
Suddenly the little voice grew much louder; it reverberated chaotically inside the hat, and was also spoken aloud outside of it:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"What?" James Potter's voice was distinguishable---indeed, unmistakeable. The hat was lifted; Lily could see again. Several people did look surprised. A few Gryffindor heads were turned, staring at James, who looked instantly sheepish and regretful.
Lily's face burned as she walked away from her friends and family towards a table of unfamiliar faces, who nonetheless clapped warmly and welcomingly. The short walk seemed to take a very long time...and her footsteps seemed very loud. She was not only embarrassed and disappointed, she was confused. Not because the Sorting Hat had put her in Hufflepuff, but because she had known it would. In the few seconds before the hat had screamed out her new house, she had experienced a very strange feeling of conviction---not confidence, exactly, just blank certainty---that she would be placed in Hufflepuff, which made no sense whatsoever because she hadn't expected it...and yet she had, but...
Lily blinked vigorously and gave herself a little mental shake as she sat down with her new classmates. All new students felt this way, her mother had told her...though it didn't seem this was quite what she had meant. Lily wasn't sure if her feelings were different then that of any other newly Sorted first year, or if that was another new student feeling as well.
"Congratulations, friend," said someone, and a hand clapped her on the back. She looked up. Sitting beside her was a prefect (she could tell by the badge gleaming on his chest) of stocky build, curly ginger hair a bit longer than that Slytherin first year Danworthy's, and warm crinkly black eyes that reminded Lily of Hagrid. He looked about sixteen. "Being in Hufflepuff. It must be difficult, not being with anyone you know and all."
Lily managed a nod and a faint squeak.
The friendly boy smiled sympathetically. "Welcome to the House of the Badger. My name's Stanley."
He waited for a reply. Even though this boy obviously knew what her name was, she said in a small voice, "I'm Lily."
Stanley smiled. "You're hungry, I imagine. Don't worry; Soon enough Professor McGonagall---"
He was interrupted by a scrawny kid with a rather small nose that bore a rather large pimple. "Hey, Stan! Got any more of those cakes left?"
Stanley grimaced. "No," he said frustratedly, "but thanks for bringing them up when I was trying not to."
The smaller boy made a coy face and went back to his friend (a girl with blonde pigtails and a pinkish round face). Lily could see that his face was splattered in a rather large amount of rather small freckles. He had rather large ears, one of which had a rather small earring dangling from it. It was clear from the earring and the way he spoke that this boy thought himself very cool. He looked to be about Albus's age---Albus was another brother of hers.
"Sorry about him," Stanley said, going back to his cheerful demeanor. "That's Earl Smith the third." He spoke these last words extremely pompously, mocking this Smith kid. "He's always unpleasant like that. You should hear him going on about his 'ancestors'. Well, no, you shouldn't, actually. I dearly hope you are never forced to suffer that misfortune. He's especially cranky this year, though, because he wasn't made prefect. You know that prefects are titled as such in fifth year, right?"
"I didn't."
"Well, now you do. What I was saying,"---here he leaned back to peer at the table at the top of the hall at which all the adults were sitting---"Professor McGonagall usually says the really meaningful stuff just before the speech, and then the requisite stuff after pudding's done. It shouldn't be long now."
It took perhaps six minutes for Professor McGonagall to finish talking with the man beside her---a short, plump fellow with a mustache and a bald head. Both he and the headmistress looked very old. During these minutes Stanley tried valiantly to make conversation, but Lily was halfhearted about it. She knew she should feel bad about being so rude and antisocial, but her mind was at the Gryffindor table, or pondering the curious feelings she had experienced beneath the Sorting Hat. She now felt dazed and woozy. This, she deduced, was an aftermath of the draining mental experience---it seemed to have occurred in the space of an instant, but she felt very tired indeed.
Finally, the mottled and thin-mouthed woman clad in green pushed her golden throne-like chair backwards and stood up. She was quite tall. The Hall fell silent considerably rapidly.
Professor McGonagall smiled. "Welcome, all, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Newcomers, I hope you have made friends among your new peers. Old-comers, welcome back to another year of learning and good form."
James snickered. McGonagall ignored him. Evidently she was attempting to make a first impression of pleasantry.
"I am confident that you shall all enjoy the excellent feast that awaits you after my speech." She wrung her long, thin wand in her hands conversationally. "Today, we, as wizards young and old..."
Lily found herself gazing through the window at the far end of the wall. She could see torches, cliffs, stars, and the calm surface of the enormous lake beyond. It was a tranquil scene, and Lily soon wandered mentally far from where she was now.
Then Professor McGonagall's voice changed; it was clear she was reaching the end of her speech. "Now," she said, clasping her hands together (Lily looked at her again), "I'm sure you're all hungry and tired of hearing me ramble on. So," She took a seat and said theatrically, "let the feast...begin!"
At first Lily was puzzled---but then, to her wonder, endless varieties of succulent food simply materialized on the clean golden dishes before their very eyes. The older students, who were not surprised by this, were the first ones to begin loading their plates. Not Lily, though; she was taking it all in.
There was more food then she had ever eaten in her life: steak, pork chops, lamb chops, bread, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, ham steaks, roast turkey, green beans, broccoli casserole, fried chicken, grilled chicken, grilled salmon, roast beef, roast chicken, sausages, bacon, peas, carrots, and gravy.
"Want some mashed potatoes?"
Lily looked up. Stanley had a serving spoon in hand that carried a sizable dollop of mashed potatoes.
"Erm, yes, thanks," Lily said awkwardly. Stanley smiled and put the potatoes onto her plate.
"Gravy?"
"No, I don't like it much."
Stanley shrugged and began to dig in to his flank steak. He was eating slowly and glancing sidelong at Lily, who still had not moved.
Lily darkened. This kid was a nuisance. Who told him to tail her like a too-eager dog, anyway?
She blinked. What was wrong with her? He was just being kind. He obviously wanted to talk with her, and to make sure she got something to eat. She speared a ham steak and moved it to her plate.
Once Lily's plate was absolutely crammed, she gave in to her watering mouth and took a bite of broccoli casserole. It was delicious.
Stanley swallowed. "I expect you'll want to know the run of the mill." When Lily nodded, he started to explain the way things went at Hogwarts between mouthfuls. When he got to the Forbidden Forest, she frowned thoughtfully.
"But if the students can't go into the forest, why do they keep it on the groun---" She was interrupted when Earl Smith's pigtailed friend let out a frightened squeal and knocked the gravy pot flying. It soared dramatically and landed upside down on the stone floor behind Stanley, soaking the front of Lily's brand new school robe and flecking Stanley's hair with brown spots.
The reason for Pink-Face's outburst was immediately apparent; an opaque, babyish face with several chins had just risen through her plate. Clucking exasperatedly, the head pulled itself out of the table, revealing a full, robed, and obese body. One of his feet swiped Lily's nose. She flinched---not because she thought he would hit her, but because the sensation of having a ghost swoop through your face is not a pleasant one; Lily felt as if she had dunked her head in a bucket of ice water.
While the ghost moaned its apologies to Pink-Face, Stanley was saying grumpily, "Oh, blast it! I could have worn my hat today! I could have! Now my hair looks like it's got dragon pox, or spattergroit! Eurgh!" Stanley and Lily mopped themselves up, and other ghosts began appearing all around the Great Hall.
Two of them passed over their table---a swaggering man tossing his own head up and down, and a sullen maiden with a veiled face. The Fat Friar stayed constantly, helping himself to a vacant seat between two seventh years, who didn't look very pleased with his choice of who to squeeze in between. An eerie rushing noise, like that of a lonely wind on a lonely night, was audible over all the chatter of the banquet as the ghosts swirled about.
Lily looked at the fallen gravy pot...and saw that it wasn't there. "Look!" she cried, pointing to the now spotless floor.
Stanley grinned at her. "Yeah, that'll be the House-Elves at work. You can thank them for this meal." He gestured to the floor. "They're in the kitchens, just below us right now."
Lily was fascinated. "My aunt---"
Another ghost, this time a gaunt one with bloodstained robes, popped up in the middle of the table. This time, everyone ducked when Pink-Face sent her goblet of pumpkin juice sky-high.
Finally, the remains of the feast, and the desserts, all disappeared, leaving the golden dishes spotless once more. Professor McGonagall stood up again and went on to explain the rules and regulations---it was nothing Lily hadn't heard from Stanley already.
Lily was very tired. Being stuffed like a teddy bear didn't help. She was very content to just lie down in a comfortable bed, no matter what common room it was in. It was a stupid, blissful feeling. And yet...that mental breakdown (for this was all Lily could think of to describe it)...Was it her magical powers coming out in a way she couldn't control them? That had happened before; she had been angry at James, and suddenly an upturned vat of frog spawn had popped into existence directly above his head...Or was it the Sorting Hat? Was it affecting her mentally? She squirmed uncomfortably. Was she going mad?
These and other mystifying questions she pondered endlessly in her new bed in her new common room, once she had been lead down a staircase, through a portrait, and into the first year girls' dormitory. She wondered what her brothers were thinking right now---she had tried to speak with them alone as everybody filed out, but they and all of her other friends and family were joining the throng upstairs, while Lily was going down. She wondered what her parents would think; Everyone on both sides of her family had always been in Gryffindor. She wondered what the future laid out in store for her. And she might get an answer in a different way than she had ever imagined.