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Draco
I
The rain pattered against the window of the Hogwarts Express with unseen ferocity. The lightning danced across the sky in flashes of light seen by masses. It was a wonderful distraction from the chaos rampaging across my mind. I wanted so badly to ignore my 'father's' orders of pretending that I was actually a Malfoy.
Pretending, that's all I have done for the past two years. Pretending that I believed in pure-blood superiority. Pretending that my sister didn't exist. Pretending my thoughts became a nonexistent voice in my head. Pretending till my emotions became numb.
These thoughts contributed to the battle tearing across my thoughts. This year Hogwarts was changing; they were allowing third years and up to be resorted after the first years were sorted, only if they made the decision to be resorted.
I hated Slytherin with an absolute passion. I was there for one reason, the Malfoys wanted me to be. They adopted me three years ago so that I could attend Hogwarts without having to go back to America for every single break. Now, I could barely be myself without being threatened to be sent back to America and being 'disowned' even though I'm technically not even their child. The only thing keeping me sane was that my friends, also from America, and I found a hideout to talk without anyone questioning it.
Yet, after three years of having to sneak around, I was tired of it. Why did it have to matter who I associated with? Why couldn't I just be myself? Then it clicked, I shouldn't have to worry, so why was I?
Today was the day that I, Draco Kaplan, not Malfoy, was going to take control of my life and be happy with myself. First step: be resorted.
'Hopefully my friends are fed up enough to also switch,' I wistfully hoped.
After several long hours in a carriage full of Slytherin idiots, the train finally reached Hogsmeade. With the rain still pouring down upon us, students quickly fled from the train to the safety of the horse-drawn carriages. The horses' black skin glistened under the shimmering rain.
"Drake-y, are you all right?" Parkinson whined, "You haven't said one word since you boarded the train."
"I'm fine," I snapped sharply, not caring about the hurt look flashing across her pug-like face.
The rest of the ride to the castle continued in stunned silence, no one daring to say a word after my shocking reaction to Parkinson's question. The horse hooves hitting the cobblestone road echoed into the silence, making it even more apparent to me as it seemed like no one else noticed the noise.
As soon as the horses reached the castle, I swung the carriage door open and sprinted quickly to the gigantic doors of the castle. I didn't care about the odd looks that I receive, I wanted to get out of the rain and that carriage. Besides, wasn't the whole point of the decision on the train to not care about other people's opinions on what I do?
I quickly made my way to the Great Hall, and unhappily sat at the Slytherin table, knowing that I would not be there for long. The rest of my 'friends' made their way to the Great Hall and sat down around me after a few minutes, all still silent. After several awkward minutes, the first years walked to the front of the hall to be sorted.
McGonagall started reading off the names of the first years with, "Adams, Avery."
A small, red-head made her way to the front of the line of first years, looking ready to pass out; sweat was shining off her forehead and her ghostly-white skin reflected the candlelight of the hall.
She timidly sat down onto the three-legged stool and the hat was placed onto her head. For the rest of the hall, it was seconds, but to her it most likely felt like eternity.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat cried out with what could have been a grin on his face.
The rest of the first years followed Avery, and in no time it was time for Dumbledore to speak. "Welcome! And for those returning, welcome back! Before we get to what has been assured to be a fantastic feast, I have two points that I want to be addressed. First of all, this year after several centuries of prohibition, the Tri-Wizard Tournament had returned, and Hogwarts is hosting this year."
The Great Hall broke out into excited mummers, but Dumbledore's voice rose above them all.
"However, unlike previous years, there is an age requirement to enter the tournament, you must be of age to enter."
Yet again, the hall broke out into talking, angry voices cried in frustration.
"There will also be four schools competing this year, unlike previous tournaments: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Camp Half-Blood."
My eyes widened in shock. Camp would have warned us about this if they were aware of it, so what was Dumbledore playing at? My real friends had similar reactions across the hall, wide open eyes, furrowed eyebrows, and questioning countenances.
"I assure you, that the name of Camp Half-Blood is not about blood-superiority, it has a much deeper meaning to the students at the school," Dumbledore continued to speak to assure the affronted looks across the hall.
"The second point that needs to be addressed is that this year, as stated in your letters, is that we are allowing third years and up to be resorted. The sorting hat can do the same process to determine your house but, if you end up in the same house or a house that you don't want, you cannot change it, just like when you were first years."
I smirked, knowing that most likely, some poor Hufflepuff would try to get resorted and end up in Slytherin with the complaint that "it's not fair."
Dumbledore continued with the discussion on, "Now, if you want to be resorted, rise and line up next to Professor McGonagall."
There was a small silence before people started to rise; I grinned when I saw almost all my friends standing to be resorted. After several moments, the flow of people started to slow.
Hesitating, I rose.
