"So, this is Hogwarts…" the words just breathed out of the young girl's
throat as the ancient castle rose up before her on the lake. Dozens of
lantern-bedecked lanterns floated across the misty water, and the dark mass
of enchanting stone that rose up before her made her swear she was coming
to Camelot. The awed chatter of the first year's seemed to dim as they
approached the shore, the giant-like groundkeeper, Hagrid, ushering the new
students off the boats and towards the school. Liz could barely contain
herself. She followed the throng, the noisy first-years pushing her every
which way in their hurried excitement, but she didn't care. The smooth,
cool stones that rose up in front of her, the way the grass shimmered in
the pearly moonlight, everything seemed so ethereal, so enchanted, and so
perfect. She smiled, pushing her glasses up her long nose, her eyes
hungrily drinking in the sights, when a hand hooked onto the crook of her
elbow and pulled her from the crowd.
Liz looked around, to find a girl smiling at her. Wildly brown curls bounced around the girl's warm, friendly face, her brown eyes glimmering at Liz.
"You're Elizabeth, right? Elizabeth Shakespeare?"
Liz nodded.
"Right, thought so. Professor McGonagall told me to come out here and be on the look out for you. You're pretty easy to spot, you must be the only seventh year out here. You're head and shoulders about everyone else." She laughed. She had a nice laugh, Liz thought.
"So, come on, let's get you inside. Don't want you to get sorted again, hunh?" she laughed again, looping her arm through Liz's, leading her through a small arbor and into a moonlight filled courtyard.
"By the way, what house did you get sorted into? McGonagall wouldn't tell me."
"Slytherin." Liz said quietly. The other girl just stared at her.
"Slytherin? Oh..." there was an uncomfortable silence in the air as the two girls made their way through the courtyard and to a large oak door. She pushed the door open and stood aside for Liz to enter, her usual smile back on her face.
'There you go, in from the wilderness."
Liz stepped into the dimly corridor slowly, the door closing behind her with an echoing thud. Torches on the tapestried walls cast odd, flickering lights and shadows across the cobbled floor that stretched for seemed an eternity in either direction.
"Come on, we gotta get you to the Sorting Ceremony." The other girl said as she turned and clipped-slopped off down the hallway. Liz watched her for a moment, pondering whether she should follow the nice stranger, or go exploring on her own. Liz took the safe route, and was soon clipping behind her guide.
"You seem to know your way around here very well." Liz said quietly.
"Well, I've been here all five years. I'm prefect now for Gryfindor. That's my house. Oh heavens!" she gasped, whirling around to face Liz. "How rude of me, I completely forgot introductions. I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you." She said, holding out her hand to Liz who took it and shook it weakly. Hermione looked at the girl through friendly eyes, her mind, as usual, clicking away with sumerazations of the girl before her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Granger, I should have known." A cold voice droned from behind Liz. Hermione's face went stony and she dropped Liz's hand.
"Good evening Professor Snape."
Liz turned around slowly, and found a tall, gauntly thin back with greasy black hair and a pallid expression staring down at the two girls, his cold black eyes icy.
"And what are you two ladies doing out here during the Sorting Ceremony? And you, Miss Granger, tsk, tsk, tsk. I would've expected better behavior from Gryfindor's prefect."
"I was merely showing Miss Shakespeare around, Professor. She just transferred to Hogwarts and Professor McGonagall asked that I take her to the banquet."
Snape now turned his attentions to the new girl before him. He inwardly gasped at the sight of her, however keeping his stony façade intact, as always. She was tall, thin, and pale, almost a carbon copy of him in his younger days. But her face, gaunt and clear, was hindered by glasses that masked her brilliant black eyes. Those eyes, he thought, I know those eyes…
"Shakespeare, eh?"
"Yes sir, Elizabeth Shakespeare." She mumbled quietly.
Good, Severus thought, she's already scared. She shouldn't be too much of a problem.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me, professor, but we really should be getting to the banquet. I'm sure Liz'll want to meet some people from her house before she gets settled."
Snape nodded coldly, not knowing what else to do. He watched Hermione link arms with Liz and scurry off down the hall, no doubt declaiming him as a perfect bastard of a teacher and poor excuse for a man. Well, good. The last thing he needed was a snippy new transfer upsetting his delicate balance of power like the Potter trio did, year after year. Sulkily, he turned and made his way to the dinner as well, his ebony robes fluttering behind him as he moved, like soot covered wings.
Hermione jabbered good-naturedly, but non-stop to Liz as the two made their way to the great hall. Liz's head spun with the prefect's "gossip" about their teachers, the good and the bad, Dumbledor, the changing staircases, the house ghosts, and finally, Quidditch.
"Quidditch? You have Quidditch here?" Liz asked excitedly. Hermione was a bit surprised to find the quiet, ill-sorted girl finally becoming lively about anything, let alone Quidditch.
"Yes, we do. And Gryfindor's got the best team, if I do say so myself." She beamed proudly. "Do you like Quidditch?"
"Oh yes, very much."
"You must play then. I've never seen anyone except Harry and Ron get this excited about the game. Well, Oliver's pretty talkative too."
"Me? Play? Oh, no. Its just, I really like watching it. That's all."
"Oh." Hermione trailed, rounding a corner and bounding up a flight of stairs, Liz helpless but to follow her. "See, I could never really get into the game. I guess I'd always preferred the common room to the great outdoors. Besides, all those people screaming, ugh! It's enough to drive you mad, I say."
"I think it's exciting," Liz offered quietly, a small glint lighting up her eyes. Hermione smiled at her.
"Yes, I think I shall have to introduce you to the boys. They've got enough stories that'll keep your head spinning for weeks. Oh! But here we are!" she said, stopping at a large stone archway. Through the opening, Liz could see a massively large room, dozens of brightly colored banners streaming from the walls. The ceiling was the inky blue-black of the night sky, a hundred tiny twinkling stars hanging in the stony rafters. The enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts, Liz thought, so it is true. She smiled at it, thinking how far more lovely it was in reality than in rumors.
Then the noise hit her ears. Her face went pale again as she realized that the large room was filled with people. The four long house tables were packed with young witches and wizards in training, all jabbering away happily. Liz froze. She had never been social and had avoided occasions such as this with a devoted fervor. Now, she was being thrown into one. Her stomach began churning with nauseous threats as Hermione dragged her into the noisy, but beautiful hall, leading her through the aisles of tables to the head Gryfindor table.
At the table, a crew of boys sat chattering away, most of who had red hair.
"Hey, Hermione!" one of the boys yelled as he saw her approaching, "Where've you been?" he asked, tossing an orange at the girl. She caught it laughed, tossing it back. The boy who threw it, a boy with messy red hair and the faintest sprinkling of freckles, smiled back and began peeling the orange.
"I've been running errands for McGonagall." She said, giving Liz a small wink.
"McGonagall? Again? Really, Hermione, you need to stop being her lap dog. Every time she tells you to do something you do it." Another boy said, pushing his mess of pitch-black hair out of his bespectacled face.
"Yes, well, this task actually proved enjoyable." She answered plopping down on one of the benches. She motioned for Liz to sit and the girl quietly moved to sit next to her new, and only, acquaintance. The boys were easily chatting with each other about how their summer's had been. Liz sat quietly, watching them all.
There were two boys, twins obviously, with fiery red hair and freckles to match. Their eyes were laced with mischief, as were their smiles, which were employed more than anything else was. Their black Gryfindor robes were slightly frayed at the edges and seemed to be older, faded. Next to the twins sat the boy with black hair. His green eyes shone underneath his glasses and the few chunks of hair that stubbornly refused to stay out of his eyes. Underneath the ill-behaved bangs, Liz could see the barest outline, a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that she was sitting in spiting distance of THE Harry Potter. Kids at her old school had always talked about 'the boy who lived' with a quiet sense of wonderment and awe. She'd always imagined him to be some sort of god. She was rather relieved to find him to be a normal person, well, as normal as could be expected.
"You sure you don't want some orange?" the redhead asked Hermione. She smiled and took a slice, munching on it pacively while she listened to the testosterone charged conversation. The other redhead continued to eat his orange, the juice dripping down his chin. Liz smiled as she realized he was growing out a goatee, the faintest hint of red stubble was systematically patterned along his strong chin and jaw line. His robes were a little worn as well, and seemed to be a tad too small for him, the strain of fabric hinting at the thin bulk of muscle that lay beneath.
By the time Hermione and Liz had arrived at the great hall, the Ceremony had ended, and the first years were excitedly chatting up their new housemates. Liz looked around at the different tables, and found one that caught her eye. A brilliant green banner with a sleek, silver snake winding its way across the fabric hung over the table, a mass of black-robed students sitting beneath it. Unlike the rest of the school, however, this table was calmer, quieter, and every once in a while they sent cold sneers towards the other tables. Liz looked down at her own robes and gently fingered the patch near the collar, which matched the snake banner she had been admiring. That, she gathered, must be the Slytherin's table.
"I think I'd better go." She quietly whispered to Hermione who was laughing at one of the twin's jokes.
"Hmm? Oh, alright. Just be careful, and don't drink the water, it does something weird to you over there." She gave Liz a wink. "And remember, you're always welcome to sit with us, if you need to." This last bit was added with a seriousness that Liz found odd. She nodded and smiled weakly before pushing off the bench and making her way towards her table.
Hermione watched the girl makes her way through the throngs of happily munching children, somewhat glad to see her sit at the end of the table, away from everyone else.
"At least she's not near Draco," she murmured to herself.
"Exactly what I was thinking,." A low voice answered. Hermione looked over to find Oliver staring calmly at the girl.
"Didn't see you there Wood." She breathed, releasing a bit of her embarrassed shock on an airy sigh.
"Yes, neither did she." He said, nodding towards the newest addition to Snape's house. He took a contemplative bite of his apple, his strong hazel eyes latched on to Liz's almost waifish figure.
"Do you think she'll make it over there?" he asked, his brogue lacing every word. Hermione shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Probably not, though." He took another bite. "I just don't understand how someone like her got sorted into that house. It makes no sense. She's wrong over there."
"Where would you have her then, Wood? Gryfindor?"
"No. Just not over there. They'll eat her alive. Especially Malfoy." Her turned his eyes to the prefect sitting next to him. "She won't last a week."
"Unless she has some friends." She said, her voice becoming marked and purposeful.
"There you go, Granger. All you have to do is befriend her and she saved." He droned sardonically. Hermione glared good naturedly at him.
"Well, do you have any better ideas? I know it wont make ALL of her troubles disappear. I'm not that stupid. But it would make things a bit easier for her. That's all anyone can hope to do for her, I suppose."
"My, but aren't we sounding maternal and philosophical?"
"Oh, stuff it Wood." She said, smiling in spite of herself. Wood quirked his eyebrows and finished off his apple, dropping onto his empty plate. His eyes latched once more on the girl across the room, his face falling into silent contemplation.
"Well, guys," Hermione said, standing up, rearranging her robes and her prefect badge, "I gotta show the first years to their rooms. Don't stay up too late." She warned, wagging a finger at the bunch before her. Harry laughed.
"Us? Come on, Mione, don't you trust us?"
she answered with a stern look before she marched off the front of the hall, calling the Gryfindor first years to follow her.
Almost as soon as she got up, Wood stood as well, his eyes glued to the sidewall.
"Hey, Oliver? You alright?" one of the twins asked in between mouthfuls of his roll.
"Yea, I'm fine. I just think I need to take a little walk is all. See you guys tomorrow." He said, half-heartedly. The guys shrugged and went back to talking about the Chudley Cannons and the newest models of racing brooms. Oliver, however, followed a dark haired girl as she wandered quietly out of the banquet hall, away from the crowds, unaware she was being followed.
A/N Liz is based on an RP character of mine. So loves and kissles to everyone who recognizes her. And I know the stories a bit.. wack… but stay with it. The voices in my head said they really like this one, and I'm inclined to believe…
Liz looked around, to find a girl smiling at her. Wildly brown curls bounced around the girl's warm, friendly face, her brown eyes glimmering at Liz.
"You're Elizabeth, right? Elizabeth Shakespeare?"
Liz nodded.
"Right, thought so. Professor McGonagall told me to come out here and be on the look out for you. You're pretty easy to spot, you must be the only seventh year out here. You're head and shoulders about everyone else." She laughed. She had a nice laugh, Liz thought.
"So, come on, let's get you inside. Don't want you to get sorted again, hunh?" she laughed again, looping her arm through Liz's, leading her through a small arbor and into a moonlight filled courtyard.
"By the way, what house did you get sorted into? McGonagall wouldn't tell me."
"Slytherin." Liz said quietly. The other girl just stared at her.
"Slytherin? Oh..." there was an uncomfortable silence in the air as the two girls made their way through the courtyard and to a large oak door. She pushed the door open and stood aside for Liz to enter, her usual smile back on her face.
'There you go, in from the wilderness."
Liz stepped into the dimly corridor slowly, the door closing behind her with an echoing thud. Torches on the tapestried walls cast odd, flickering lights and shadows across the cobbled floor that stretched for seemed an eternity in either direction.
"Come on, we gotta get you to the Sorting Ceremony." The other girl said as she turned and clipped-slopped off down the hallway. Liz watched her for a moment, pondering whether she should follow the nice stranger, or go exploring on her own. Liz took the safe route, and was soon clipping behind her guide.
"You seem to know your way around here very well." Liz said quietly.
"Well, I've been here all five years. I'm prefect now for Gryfindor. That's my house. Oh heavens!" she gasped, whirling around to face Liz. "How rude of me, I completely forgot introductions. I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you." She said, holding out her hand to Liz who took it and shook it weakly. Hermione looked at the girl through friendly eyes, her mind, as usual, clicking away with sumerazations of the girl before her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Granger, I should have known." A cold voice droned from behind Liz. Hermione's face went stony and she dropped Liz's hand.
"Good evening Professor Snape."
Liz turned around slowly, and found a tall, gauntly thin back with greasy black hair and a pallid expression staring down at the two girls, his cold black eyes icy.
"And what are you two ladies doing out here during the Sorting Ceremony? And you, Miss Granger, tsk, tsk, tsk. I would've expected better behavior from Gryfindor's prefect."
"I was merely showing Miss Shakespeare around, Professor. She just transferred to Hogwarts and Professor McGonagall asked that I take her to the banquet."
Snape now turned his attentions to the new girl before him. He inwardly gasped at the sight of her, however keeping his stony façade intact, as always. She was tall, thin, and pale, almost a carbon copy of him in his younger days. But her face, gaunt and clear, was hindered by glasses that masked her brilliant black eyes. Those eyes, he thought, I know those eyes…
"Shakespeare, eh?"
"Yes sir, Elizabeth Shakespeare." She mumbled quietly.
Good, Severus thought, she's already scared. She shouldn't be too much of a problem.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Um, excuse me, professor, but we really should be getting to the banquet. I'm sure Liz'll want to meet some people from her house before she gets settled."
Snape nodded coldly, not knowing what else to do. He watched Hermione link arms with Liz and scurry off down the hall, no doubt declaiming him as a perfect bastard of a teacher and poor excuse for a man. Well, good. The last thing he needed was a snippy new transfer upsetting his delicate balance of power like the Potter trio did, year after year. Sulkily, he turned and made his way to the dinner as well, his ebony robes fluttering behind him as he moved, like soot covered wings.
Hermione jabbered good-naturedly, but non-stop to Liz as the two made their way to the great hall. Liz's head spun with the prefect's "gossip" about their teachers, the good and the bad, Dumbledor, the changing staircases, the house ghosts, and finally, Quidditch.
"Quidditch? You have Quidditch here?" Liz asked excitedly. Hermione was a bit surprised to find the quiet, ill-sorted girl finally becoming lively about anything, let alone Quidditch.
"Yes, we do. And Gryfindor's got the best team, if I do say so myself." She beamed proudly. "Do you like Quidditch?"
"Oh yes, very much."
"You must play then. I've never seen anyone except Harry and Ron get this excited about the game. Well, Oliver's pretty talkative too."
"Me? Play? Oh, no. Its just, I really like watching it. That's all."
"Oh." Hermione trailed, rounding a corner and bounding up a flight of stairs, Liz helpless but to follow her. "See, I could never really get into the game. I guess I'd always preferred the common room to the great outdoors. Besides, all those people screaming, ugh! It's enough to drive you mad, I say."
"I think it's exciting," Liz offered quietly, a small glint lighting up her eyes. Hermione smiled at her.
"Yes, I think I shall have to introduce you to the boys. They've got enough stories that'll keep your head spinning for weeks. Oh! But here we are!" she said, stopping at a large stone archway. Through the opening, Liz could see a massively large room, dozens of brightly colored banners streaming from the walls. The ceiling was the inky blue-black of the night sky, a hundred tiny twinkling stars hanging in the stony rafters. The enchanted ceiling at Hogwarts, Liz thought, so it is true. She smiled at it, thinking how far more lovely it was in reality than in rumors.
Then the noise hit her ears. Her face went pale again as she realized that the large room was filled with people. The four long house tables were packed with young witches and wizards in training, all jabbering away happily. Liz froze. She had never been social and had avoided occasions such as this with a devoted fervor. Now, she was being thrown into one. Her stomach began churning with nauseous threats as Hermione dragged her into the noisy, but beautiful hall, leading her through the aisles of tables to the head Gryfindor table.
At the table, a crew of boys sat chattering away, most of who had red hair.
"Hey, Hermione!" one of the boys yelled as he saw her approaching, "Where've you been?" he asked, tossing an orange at the girl. She caught it laughed, tossing it back. The boy who threw it, a boy with messy red hair and the faintest sprinkling of freckles, smiled back and began peeling the orange.
"I've been running errands for McGonagall." She said, giving Liz a small wink.
"McGonagall? Again? Really, Hermione, you need to stop being her lap dog. Every time she tells you to do something you do it." Another boy said, pushing his mess of pitch-black hair out of his bespectacled face.
"Yes, well, this task actually proved enjoyable." She answered plopping down on one of the benches. She motioned for Liz to sit and the girl quietly moved to sit next to her new, and only, acquaintance. The boys were easily chatting with each other about how their summer's had been. Liz sat quietly, watching them all.
There were two boys, twins obviously, with fiery red hair and freckles to match. Their eyes were laced with mischief, as were their smiles, which were employed more than anything else was. Their black Gryfindor robes were slightly frayed at the edges and seemed to be older, faded. Next to the twins sat the boy with black hair. His green eyes shone underneath his glasses and the few chunks of hair that stubbornly refused to stay out of his eyes. Underneath the ill-behaved bangs, Liz could see the barest outline, a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that she was sitting in spiting distance of THE Harry Potter. Kids at her old school had always talked about 'the boy who lived' with a quiet sense of wonderment and awe. She'd always imagined him to be some sort of god. She was rather relieved to find him to be a normal person, well, as normal as could be expected.
"You sure you don't want some orange?" the redhead asked Hermione. She smiled and took a slice, munching on it pacively while she listened to the testosterone charged conversation. The other redhead continued to eat his orange, the juice dripping down his chin. Liz smiled as she realized he was growing out a goatee, the faintest hint of red stubble was systematically patterned along his strong chin and jaw line. His robes were a little worn as well, and seemed to be a tad too small for him, the strain of fabric hinting at the thin bulk of muscle that lay beneath.
By the time Hermione and Liz had arrived at the great hall, the Ceremony had ended, and the first years were excitedly chatting up their new housemates. Liz looked around at the different tables, and found one that caught her eye. A brilliant green banner with a sleek, silver snake winding its way across the fabric hung over the table, a mass of black-robed students sitting beneath it. Unlike the rest of the school, however, this table was calmer, quieter, and every once in a while they sent cold sneers towards the other tables. Liz looked down at her own robes and gently fingered the patch near the collar, which matched the snake banner she had been admiring. That, she gathered, must be the Slytherin's table.
"I think I'd better go." She quietly whispered to Hermione who was laughing at one of the twin's jokes.
"Hmm? Oh, alright. Just be careful, and don't drink the water, it does something weird to you over there." She gave Liz a wink. "And remember, you're always welcome to sit with us, if you need to." This last bit was added with a seriousness that Liz found odd. She nodded and smiled weakly before pushing off the bench and making her way towards her table.
Hermione watched the girl makes her way through the throngs of happily munching children, somewhat glad to see her sit at the end of the table, away from everyone else.
"At least she's not near Draco," she murmured to herself.
"Exactly what I was thinking,." A low voice answered. Hermione looked over to find Oliver staring calmly at the girl.
"Didn't see you there Wood." She breathed, releasing a bit of her embarrassed shock on an airy sigh.
"Yes, neither did she." He said, nodding towards the newest addition to Snape's house. He took a contemplative bite of his apple, his strong hazel eyes latched on to Liz's almost waifish figure.
"Do you think she'll make it over there?" he asked, his brogue lacing every word. Hermione shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Probably not, though." He took another bite. "I just don't understand how someone like her got sorted into that house. It makes no sense. She's wrong over there."
"Where would you have her then, Wood? Gryfindor?"
"No. Just not over there. They'll eat her alive. Especially Malfoy." Her turned his eyes to the prefect sitting next to him. "She won't last a week."
"Unless she has some friends." She said, her voice becoming marked and purposeful.
"There you go, Granger. All you have to do is befriend her and she saved." He droned sardonically. Hermione glared good naturedly at him.
"Well, do you have any better ideas? I know it wont make ALL of her troubles disappear. I'm not that stupid. But it would make things a bit easier for her. That's all anyone can hope to do for her, I suppose."
"My, but aren't we sounding maternal and philosophical?"
"Oh, stuff it Wood." She said, smiling in spite of herself. Wood quirked his eyebrows and finished off his apple, dropping onto his empty plate. His eyes latched once more on the girl across the room, his face falling into silent contemplation.
"Well, guys," Hermione said, standing up, rearranging her robes and her prefect badge, "I gotta show the first years to their rooms. Don't stay up too late." She warned, wagging a finger at the bunch before her. Harry laughed.
"Us? Come on, Mione, don't you trust us?"
she answered with a stern look before she marched off the front of the hall, calling the Gryfindor first years to follow her.
Almost as soon as she got up, Wood stood as well, his eyes glued to the sidewall.
"Hey, Oliver? You alright?" one of the twins asked in between mouthfuls of his roll.
"Yea, I'm fine. I just think I need to take a little walk is all. See you guys tomorrow." He said, half-heartedly. The guys shrugged and went back to talking about the Chudley Cannons and the newest models of racing brooms. Oliver, however, followed a dark haired girl as she wandered quietly out of the banquet hall, away from the crowds, unaware she was being followed.
A/N Liz is based on an RP character of mine. So loves and kissles to everyone who recognizes her. And I know the stories a bit.. wack… but stay with it. The voices in my head said they really like this one, and I'm inclined to believe…