Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, that honor goes to JK Rowling
Guinevere knew that today should be an exciting one, one of the most exciting in her life in fact. But try as she might to feel enthusiastic, all she could muster was a mild queasy feeling. The sorting ceremony was about to begin, and this was a pivotal moment in her life. Here she would be judged as worthy or unworthy, pure or impure; at least, that's what her mother had told her nearly twelve times this morning.
Her palms were sweating as she waited for the doors to open, something she was normally embarrassed about, but couldn't quite muster enough consciousness on the matter to actually care. The hallway was full of excited chatter, all the other first years guessing and hoping. The doors opened then, silencing her peers and revealing a stern witch. She commanded attention, and Guinevere couldn't help but calm marginally. This woman obviously was in charge, and seemed most capable.
"The sorting ceremony shall begin presently, form a single file line and proceed." Guinevere was happy to comply, finding a place as quickly as possible, and marching into the next room. It was full of students, more people than she had ever been around at one time. And they were all staring at her. She glanced around fervently, searching for someone, anyone, she could recognize.
That's when she saw him, Sirius Black. He was standing a few feet in front of her, actively engaged with the boy next to him. Before she could call out to him, she was interrupted. "Welcome first years, I am your transfiguration's teacher, professor McGonagall. I shall call out your names, after which you will proceed to the stool there," She gestured towards the center of the room, "And place the hat upon your head. The sorting hat will then call out your house, which you are to promptly join."
All of Guinevere's confidence fled as she realized a hat would be deciding her fate. She'd rather take a written test, or something equally tedious. McGonagall began calling out names, silencing her inner turmoil.
"Black, Sirius." The hat had barely graced his head before shouting its verdict.
"Gryffindor!" Guinevere frowned, thinking back. She was certain her mother had told her Slytherin was the house she wanted to be in, yet Sirius didn't seem upset about Gryffindor, quite the opposite actually. She considered that she might have heard wrong and sighed. Sirius' family was just like hers, pure blood and elite, at least, that is what her mother told her. So obviously he would be put in the correct house.
But she had been certain her mother said Slytherin…
"Prince, Guinevere." She jumped, blushing as she realized she had missed all of the other names, and scrambled to the stool, placing the hat gingerly on her head.
Hm… Hufflepuff I think…
Actually Mr. Hat, I would prefer Slytherin, or is it Gryffindor?
No no, Hufflepuff will be good for you-
NO! I'm sure it was Slytherin, that's where I belong.
I am the professional here, and I think Hufflepuff is best.
But my mother will be very cross with me.
Hm… Maybe, no, better make it
"Hufflepuff!" Guinevere removed the hat, keeping her face blank as she strode over to the table that was currently cheering for her. She glanced once at the table she thought to be Slytherin and was met with confusion and scowls, turning she met Sirius' wide grin and thumbs up. She focused back on the Hufflepuff table and took the first empty seat by a fellow first year. The girl beamed at her and shook her hand.
"Name's Cerridwen, nice to meet you." Guinevere smiled back, finding her grin infectious. Cerridwen's hair was curlier than her own, and her smile held a large gap that she could only describe as charming. Maybe she had been sorted in the right house.
"And I'm Marcus. Marcus Flynn." Guinevere turned to the boy across from her, a fellow blond with thick glasses and a huge smile. She was about to respond when the room fell silent. Guinevere quickly turned to the front, finding an older wizard standing. "That's professor Dumbledor, the headmaster." Guinevere nodded, grateful for the information, and focused back on Dumbledor.
"Welcome back students, and a welcome for our first years as well. A reminder that the forbidden forest is as always off limits to students, and a few words before the feast; Rot us oaxat." Guinevere was confused, until he sat down and the food appeared. Never had she seen so much of it. And there, in front of her, was a tray covered entirely with ham.
"That was odd of him to say…" Cerridwen murmured as she began filing her plate. Guinevere nodded, unconcerned with the ramblings of an old man.
"It was gibberish. He said 'let's eat'." Marcus supplied.
"How do you know gibberish?" Cerridwen questioned, her head cocked.
"It's a hobby of mine." Guinevere listened as they chatted lightly; comparing what other languages they spoke.
"What about you Guinevere?" She glanced up and Cerridwen and pursed her lips. Normally her opinion wasn't required. If someone was curious about her they simply asked her mother. Well, except for the children her mother scheduled play dates for her with. Though her opinion wasn't exactly a big consideration most of the time anyway.
Honestly, with the exception of maybe Sirius, whom never seemed to listen to his own mother anyway, this was the warmest welcome she'd ever had. And to think her mother had warned her against being friendly with children from other houses. As she broke from her reverie, she noticed that both of her new friends were staring at her expectantly. She blushed and hastily replied.
"I know a bit of Latin, though, nothing to brag about." The conversation continued, and Guinevere couldn't help but feel welcomed. Nothing was forced, and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel awkward adding her own input. And even though she knew she would get hell from her mother, Guinevere couldn't help but smile contentedly, glad that the infuriating hat hadn't listened to her and felt silly for arguing. He was the professional after all.
It was Friday, and Guinevere was looking forward to her half a day off. She was not looking forward, however, to breakfast. Yesterday she had sent her mother an owl detailing her first day, as well as what house she had been sorted in. Knowing her mother, it wouldn't be long until she responded. She considered skipping breakfast, but before the thought finished crossing her mind her stomach growled.
"No need to worry with hunger pains on top of it, "she murmured, slipping on her shoes and heading to the great hall. Cerridwen and Marcus were already there, both much early risers than her. They waved her over amicably, making her burst into a grin. She was so pleased to have made friends already. Her first friends.
"I can't wait for free period. McGonagall's already loaded me with work." Cerridwen was glancing at her transfiguration notes, attempting to decipher her penmanship.
"It's not as bad as potions; I swear Slughorn is such a suck up." Marcus and Cerridwen began debating which professor was worse as the post arrived. And just as she dreaded, a red envelope dropped in front of her.
"Prince has a howler!" Guinevere blushed deeply at that, not caring who shouted it. She just sat there, rooted in horror as it began smoking, and exploded in front of her.
"Guinevere Rosalind Prince, how dare you be sorted into any house other than Slytherin?! You have sullied the great and noble house of Prince with your insolence! I have the right mind to remove you from that school this instance. I refuse to have you surrounded by those filthy half breeds, or worse, mudbloods! Your poor grandmother has written you out of the will, and your father is even more furious than I am!"
"You tell her Morrigan." Guinevere darkened impossibly at her father's detached voice. "The audacity of them. I'll go do something about it myself."
"No you won't, but I WILL!" And with that it dissolved into ash, leaving Guinevere in tears. She could hear the laughter coming from Slytherin table, and it made her sobs grow louder and her tears larger. Cerridwen pulled her into a hug and Marcus grabbed her hand, both glaring at the other table.
"Serves the blood traitor right." It was a face she recognized, Lucius Malfoy who said it. Her friends went to stand, but the Hufflepuff head boy beat them to it, sending a bat bogey hex flying right at him.
"No one messes with our house." Professor Sprout rose then, rushing to reprimand him as Slughorn went to reverse it. The silence was broken as everyone began gossiping and Guinevere wondered why the floor hadn't swallowed her up yet.
"Don't worry Gwenie, no one blames you for your mom's hate." Cerridwen was stroking her hair, holding her close.
"Yeah," Marcus added, trying to smile weakly. "You aren't them. Obviously you were sorted in the right house." Guinevere began to gain control, trying to return his smile, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a worried Sirius behind her.
"Don't feel too bad Guinevere. I got mine yesterday." Their eyes met, and Guinevere nodded, gaining control of her feelings.
"Thanks Sirius." He grinned, and strode back to his table. Feeling more than a little better about the situation, now that the ordeal was over and no one was looking at her anymore, she ambled over to Neal, the head boy.
"Sorry I got you in trouble." Her gaze was fixed on the ground her guilt nearly tangible.
"No worries, Sprout didn't even punish me, just pretended to. Though, if anyone asks I got detention." He winked and she nodded, blushing, before dashing back to her friends.
After the howler incident, Guinevere was more than happy to pretend it never happened. Especially since the only reminder was the occasional glare from Slytherin table. Apparently Lucius actually got detention. And so, she was quite content to work on her potion, intent on not ruining the draught.
"Ms. Prince, the headmaster would like to speak with you." She blinked, jolting up to see a weary Slughorn.
"What did you do?" Cerridwen whispered, brows furrowed. Guinevere shrugged, nodded, and walked up to the front. Slughorn handed her a sheet with the directions and the password, and waved her off. Guinevere was more than confused, certain she had broken no rules. When she reached the gargoyle statue she muttered the password, gobstopper, and strode up the staircase, unease growing with each step. That is until she heard her mother's voice.
"I demand you put her in Slytherin this instant! Your full proof plan to properly sort every student failed miserably and you have to take responsibility for that! She is as pure as possible! How dare you allow her to be tarnished by this oversight?!"
"Mrs. Prince, I will see what I do, but I can make no promises."
"See that you fix it!" Her mother shouted before storming out of the room. Guinevere's heart sank as she scurried out of sight, barely avoiding her mother's furious gaze. As she descended Guinevere drew in a deep breath and entered the headmaster's office.
"Have a seat Guinevere." She complied, fighting to hold her tongue. "Now, how are you doing, making friends? Enjoying your classes?"
"Oh yes Professor Dumbledor, please don't make me leave Hufflepuff!" His eyes twinkled.
"As I suspected. I suppose I'll just have to tell your mother that what's done can't be undone. You may return to class." She nodded fervently, and dashed back to potions, a skip in her step.