CHAPTER ONE
Beatrice swore as her trunk slipped from her clammy palm and fell painfully onto her foot. A few First Years in the compartment to her right looked at her, shocked, but she ignored them, feeling even more irritated.
"I can do it," she breathed as she felt the trunk being taken from her grasp. Seeing who it was, she smiled wearily. "Thanks Hugo."
"No problem," he grinned at her, ducking beneath the doorframe to a nearby compartment. He seemed to have grown about a foot over the summer. "Good summer?"
"Not bad," she shrugged, sighing as she sat down onto the comfortable seat and watched Hugo lift her trunk onto an overhead rack. "How about you, Lily?" she asked the red-headed girl beside her. To her surprise, Lily flushed.
"Lily really enjoyed her summer," Hugo told Beatrice, looking over at his cousin with his eyebrows raised. "I would have thought you'd have told Beatrice in one of those owls you sent. Or were they all to him?"
Beatrice had no idea who he was, but decided to wait until later to find out. Glancing at Lily, who appeared immersed in her copy of The Daily Prophet, she turned to the other occupants of the compartment, who were also fellow Gryffindors. "What about you, Tatiana?"
"My dad got promoted," she smiled, tossing her long, blonde hair behind her shoulder and leaning forward, "So we went on holiday to Morocco. We stayed with these friends of my parents and they had all this Moroccan magic that we've never learnt before…my parents were all interested but I wasn't really paying much attention because they had this nephew…" Tatiana went into a detailed explanation of her holiday, which Beatrice pretended to listen to, but instead looked at Dorian Carte, who was sitting beside her, reading Quidditch Through The Ages, although Beatrice noticed that he had not turned a page since she had arrived.
Tatiana seemed to have finished her account of Morocco, and Beatrice was balancing her owl, Achilles, on her knee, feeding him owl nuts through the bars of her cage, when Dorian looked up from his book and said nonchalantly, "So did you see the Quidditch in the New Forest, Beatrice?"
Beatrice looked up and shook her head absently. "I assume you did." Her tone was colder than usual.
"Oh yeah, I went with my Uncle Ivan, you know, in the Department of Magical Games and Sports? We bet 50 galleons on the Berkshire Boggarts, but the Harpies beat them 350-40."
"Shame," Beatrice's voice was slightly sarcastic. "And you didn't see it coming?"
Dorian laughed and ruffled his dark hair, glancing at Hugo, who was scowling at him, seemingly unaware he was doing so.
"Naw, well, they're the Harpies…"
"And they've won every match in the season. Just because Jones has retired doesn't mean they're the not the best in the League."
Dorian shrugged and went back to his book. Lily smiled knowingly and nudged Beatrice, who scowled at her and opened her Standard Book of Spells Grade 5, forcing herself not to look at Dorian.
It had begun to rain heavily by the time the Hogwarts Express reached Hogsmede, and the sky outside was already an inky black. Beatrice was jostled by the students that were making their way down the carriage until she reached the doorway to the platform. Stepping off it, she looked for Lily, who had been in front of her, and saw her getting into a packed carriage. Beatrice glared at her, seeing that it was only her and Dorian left, but Lily only smiled infuriatingly as the carriage pulled away. Beatrice stepped into the next empty carriage and willed it to go forwards before Dorian could join her, but just as she thought she was out of his sight, he clambered in and sat opposite her.
"Hope they have the chicken they had last year," Dorian looked up at the castle that glowed from the light in each of its windows.
Beatrice made a non-committal sound and looked up at the castle as the carriage began to move, rocking as it bounced over the bumps in the track.
Dorian searched her face, desperation in a usually blasé tone of voice. "I'm sorry if I – er- offended you on the train."
"You didn't, it's fine," Beatrice said shortly, still not looking into his eyes for fear she would not be able to look away again.
"It's obviously not," he continued. "Just…whatever I did I'm sorry."
Beatrice felt a savage pleasure in hearing him apologize, though what for she was not certain. He had spent five years being exactly the type of arrogant personality that most irritated her, and she liked to think that this was what he was apologizing for, but she doubted it. His sudden decency was probably just an act.
She continued to look resolutely out of the window until Hogwarts was so close that she had to crane her neck. The carriage jolted to a stop, and Dorian opened the door for her, gesturing for her to get out before him. She stepped down, and went immediately over to Lily.
"You're welcome," Lily whispered with a small smile. "He kept looking at you on the train. You know most girls would have given their wands to have been in your position just then. You owe me one."
"You know I can't stand him," Beatrice muttered as they fell into step.
"Of course, of course," Lily said, feigning boredom, squinting against the rain and pulling her robes tightly around her.
Once they reached the Entrance Hall, Beatrice relaxed, feeling the warm candlelight on her face. Footsteps echoed all around her as she made her way to the Great Hall, where they found a bench opposite Hugo and Marcus Staunton, a wiry fifth year who had helped secure last years' Gryffindor victory in the Quidditch Cup with his excellent chasing skills. All of the plates in front of them were empty, and Beatrice's stomach gnawed with hunger; she had not eaten on the train. She lost track of the conversation that Lily, Hugo and Marcus were having, and scanned the teachers' table to see if McGonagall was almost ready for the sorting. Hagrid waved to her, and she nodded back, assuming that the First Years must almost be ready to be sorted. At that moment, a group of nervous-looking eleven-year-olds bustled down towards the front of the hall, and the vicinity fell silent. A small girl yelped as the sorting hat, tattered as ever, began to sing in a cheerful if raspy tone:
Welcome back to the old and welcome to the new,
In case you do not know I am here to sort you,
But first I must tell the tale of when Hogwarts did begin,
Back in a time of old when I was placed in
The care of four young founders – firstly, Gryffindor,
To be brave and courageous, that's what he was for,
Then there's Hufflepuff, good of heart, trustable and kind,
And Ravenclaw, a woman of wit, very sharp of mind,
And Slytherin, a proud man, filled with great ambition,
To build a school for young wizards, that was their mission.
Now the founders four are dead, long gone away,
But I am here to ensure you are not led astray,
I will sort you into the house to which you best suit,
I can see into your mind, to avoid any dispute.
Over the years this school has housed the best of their time,
The famous and the infamous have here spent their prime,
The castle holds many mysteries, which are sure to unfold,
And a great many stories which I know you have been told.
Let me not keep you too long from your delicious meal,
Just listen for one last moment, for I really feel
It is important to inform you of the feuds that once occurred,
And warn you that any more like such must be deterred,
For we live in a time of peace, but that was not always so.
But enough from me, it's time to find out where you are to go.
The hall echoed with applause as the hat fell silent. Beatrice watched as Professor McGonagall, withered and leaning on her stick called, "Adams, Verity."
A small girl with a long plait teetered over to the wooden stool in front of the staff table and sat down, her knees visibly shaking. The hat was placed on her head and fell down over her eyes. The hat paused for a moment and then called: "Ravenclaw!"
The Ravenclaw table erupted with cheers Verity Adams joined them, looking relieved.
The sorting did not take long, and soon McGonagall was calling, "Zephinah, Timothy."
Once Timothy Zephinah had been sorted into Hufflepuff, she stood to make her speech.
"Welcome, everyone," she said, her voice brisk as ever despite her age. "I hope that you have all enjoyed a relaxing holiday. We have a staff change this year. First, Professor Ingleby, our Potions teacher, has secured a position in the Ministry of Magic, and will be replaced by Professor DuGentille We hope that she will be made very welcome here." A tall, young witch with olive skin and sharp features smiled at the hall. "Professor DuGentille has been teaching at Beauxbatons Academy for the past ten years."
Hugo grinned at Marcus, and Beatrice kicked him under the table.
"Due to the sad loss of Professor Filch, we have employed Professor Ulebert to be our caretaker. He has agreed to work on a temporary basis, and I hasten to add that Professor Filch's rules are still in place." She surveyed the hall haughtily. "Quidditch tryouts will be announced by Quidditch Captains individually. The forest on the grounds is out of bounds to all students unless they are accompanied by a teacher. I have nothing left to say other than that I hope you enjoy the feast." She sat down, and there was a heavy silence before the feast appeared on the plates before them.
