Flash Forward:
It's not a dream Granger! A voice said in her head. You've done it!
Hermione grinned and ran to the chest, observing its full beauty.
It was a chest which was engraved with silver, gold, and bronze. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and a large assortment of other jewels were set into the precious metals, in an almost fantastical design. The wood on which the designs were set in was almost black, polished so much that it could put the king's table to shame!
Then there was the lock. Hermione's brows furrowed.
It was no ordinary lock. Though it was the only hole on the chest, it did not have the customary shape for which a standard key could fit in. Hermione leaned in closer, to see that it wasn't a hole at all. It was an indent, in which a small circular object had to fit in.
"It's ingenious! Incredible!" she said in awe. Her fingers traced the depressed opening.
She stood up and shook her head to herself. She knew what she had to do. And it wasn't going to be easy.
She went over and walked to the only opening out of the cave. She needed to get out, but questions swirled in her mind. She closed her eyes, thinking, hard.
"Well, well. What have we here?"
Hermione whirled around to the voice, the light shining from the opening of the cave behind her making her seem like a silhouette. She gasped. Merlin! I forgot all about Malfoy!
Hermione drew her cutlass, her empty musket case told her that she had lost it on the way here. His empty one told her the same as well. The sound of a second cutlass being drawn cut the air and sent a shiver down Hermione's spine.
Draco smirked when he saw her draw her sword. "You actually know how to use that, Granger? Should I be impressed?"
Hermione stepped away from the entrance of the cave and to the wall nearby it, joining his movement in a circle around the center ground of the abode of the treasure.
"Scared, Malfoy? But wow, you can actually form coherent sentences? With you being a ferret. Hmmm. ShouldI be the one impressed?" she countered easily, one foot stepping over the other. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest, but then she remembered. This is the scum that has treated me like the dirt on his shoes for the past six years! Her hatred slowly began working on her pulse, slowing it down, little by little….
Draco sneered. "I got turned into a ferret in three years ago! It's sad that you have to go that far back to find insults to throw at me."
"But my dear little ferret, you looked so good as one!" Hermione said, voice overly sweet. "Shall we dance?" she said, bowing, almost mocking. It was about time she put the little snake back into the hole where he belonged.
"The tango, or the salsa?" Draco stated, advancing towards her. "I find the waltz is terribly boring." he conceded, the left corner of his lips twitching as if it wanted to smile. Too bad his big smirk got in the way. "Shall we?" he asked, bowing.
Hermione's eyes narrowed at his lighthearted tone. "What do you want?" Her tone changed into a stone cold grey- threatening to freeze the air around her.
Draco looked her dead in the eyes, his lips falling into all seriousness- the twitch had disappeared. His next words, Hermione would remember for the rest of her life.
"I want you."
Hermione stumbled for a moment, his statement throwing her completely off guard.
Suddenly, Draco chose his moment to lunge at her, his cutlass cutting through the air. Hermione dodged it at the last second, but not before the blade cut through her shirt. She gasped, trying to retain her footage. She got into a defensive position, and blocked his second attack, her arm instantly screaming in protest.
"Ah! So you do know how to tango! Lets just see how well, shall we?" Draco said, flicking his sword at her again. Hermione fended him off, trying to get off of the defensive. Instantly, she measured his strengths and his weaknesses. Her face went grim, as she fenced off another blow, this time to her stomach.
"I'm well off enough, Malfoy." she said, gritting the words out of her mouth, doing her best to focus on their dancing swords.
His style was unlike any that she had ever fought. It was as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if her were one with his sword. Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Sure you are." he conceded, taking a step forward, and one step back, parrying with her. She didn't comment, sensing that he had more to say.
" You have two friends who see you as a boy," he said casually, cross-stepping and causing Hermione to twirl around with him, their blades sparked with the force "Your hair looks like a pygmy puff when it's humid," he paused as Hermione's sword moved in and cut a hole into his shirt, causing him to leap back, yet he still continued "You're an insufferable know it all, but the real cherry on top of the ice cream is," he said, his sword capturing hers and forcing her sword to meet hilt to hilt with his, their faces only two blades' width apart, "You're nothing but a poor, pathetic Mudblood." he whispered.
Time stopped. The world quit moving. All you could hear was their labored breathing. Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she wouldn't let herself be the first to blink.
Draco looked into her fierce honey brown eyes. He could see the golden flakes that were scattered in her irises, he was that close. He felt her knuckles brush against his as she held her sword to match his force. He smirked. "What, no smart retort Granger? What's the world coming too?"
"An end for you and a victory for me." she whispered fiercely into the air. She wondered for a brief second, how in bloody hell she got in this mess in the first place. It took her a moment to remember, and then she cursed under her breath. The whole bloody game, and the whole bloody letter.
She gritted her teeth, and tried to banish the thought. She had to be focused. She took a second to gather her wits, and then broke her sword from Draco's. She was going to bloody win this game.
She would not entertain any other options.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
Pirates-CHAPTER 1: The Beginning
Dear Student,
I am pleased to inform you that this year we will be holding a series of rather interesting events and no real schooling shall be taking place, and your seventh year education has been postponed for a year. The 1-4 years are staying at home this year, and all 5-7 years are invited. Due to recent events, such as the death of the man who was named Voldemort, this is taking place. Parents felt that they needed to bond with their children for a time, but for you older ones, we are arranging some fascinating proceedings. The supply list is very limited this year, but if you are coming, please bring all the items listed. Thank you so much for your cooperation.
Supply List:
A trinket that represents you- can not be any bigger than a snitch:Must have your initials engraved on the item of interest.
Everyday wear clothes- you'll be needing these for the first week or so.
1 compass
1 wand case
Items of Hygiene
There are no uniforms this year- at least for the moment, please just show up in your ordinary everyday clothes.
That is all. Thank you so much for your cooperation.
For all those who wished to be head girl and head boy, there will be no such station this year, due to the course of events that we have planned. Thank you for understanding.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
It was raining. A full blown storm was unleashing its fury over the burrow. Hermione was reading the soggy letter that had just arrived by owl, which was laying on her desk by the window. She had several candles lit in order to see the smudged words. You think they would charm the letters to repel rain. She shook her head, re-reading the piece of paper.
Hermione puzzled over the letter, yet did not question anything that was written. A wave of disappointment had washed over her when hearing the news about head boy and head girl, but this seemingly interesting course of events that had apparently been planned intrigued her.
Not very much had been interesting since the Final Battle has commenced. As often it is in fairy tale stories, Good won over Evil. Harry fulfilled the prophecy, and had killed Lord Voldemort. It was easy to state it that way, but actually being there, was totally different. Hermione didn't know if one moment, she would live, or if in the next moment, she would die. Hexes were flying through the air, helter skelter…
Hermione ran across the already trampled grass of the Hogwarts grounds, dodging men in silver masks, deflecting curses flung her way. One of them even sizzled her hair. Hermione felt the magic pulsing in the air around her. Still, she ran, away from evil, only to discover she was running towards evil. She simply couldn't win.
Her bushy brown hair had wrestled itself out of its hair-tie, and was now flying about her face in rough, sweaty strands.
Hermione wasn't by any means beautiful. Her teeth were straight, but only since fourth year, when Draco's cretins had decided to make her teet as long as a beavers. Later, in the hospital wing, Madam Promfry had asked Hermione, while spelling her teeth smaller, when to stop. Hermione had waited until her teeth were perfectly straight, and then said to stop. The nurse had looked dubiously at her, but Hermione had just smiled her clever smile, and asked permission to leave.
Her complexion, however, was clear, and luckily unmarked by teenage puberty. She thought it was her best feature. Her eye-brows were slightly bushy, and her eyes, she was told, were slightly too big for her face. Her nose was a genuine button nose, and seemed to small for her face.
She was Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired know-it-all, and she was fleeing and running from and to danger at the same time. She sent hexes flying at anyone in a cloak, or a mask, or looked remotely evil to her. In that battle field, she couldn't tell who was good or bad. She could only look out for herself.
The moon shone from above, making the whole scene far more sinister. Everything had been planned: Draco had succeeded in getting the Death Eaters inside the castle. Snape had killed Dumbledore. The war was upon them in a matter of minutes.
They had nothing that they could do but act. And that's what Hermione Granger, the fearless Gryffindor, did.
She had been separated from Harry and Ron when a circle of Death Eaters misted into existence around them. The began throwing hexes right away, a triangle of truth. Slowly for them, quickly in reality, they had paired themselves off with the Death Eaters and began hacking their way through their defenses.
Harry kept telling them to run, to save themselves, but he knew that his friends would never run. They didn't.
Hermione ran by Lucius Malfoy, who sneered at her, and shot a purple beam her way. She deflected it simply, and threw a non-verbal spell. It had happened in a moment. Instead of looking at her, he was looking over her shoulder, and the spell hit him right in the chest.
Hermione had immobilized him. He was frozen on the ground. Hermione refused to look over her shoulder and placed a personalization spell on him, so that no one could unfreeze him. His eyes glared at her. Hermione looked at him, hate written into ever pore of her face. "I would say I was sorry, but I don't think I will," she had said to the man, and then spun around. What she saw made her mouth draw open, and her already large brown eyes open even more so.
Harry and Voldemort were dueling. This wasn't just any type of duel. They were encased in a golden globe, and it seemed that Voldemort was winning. Harry fell to the ground, scrambling, trying to get up. Hermione could see the fierce determination in his eyes, in his very stance. Harry threw a spell that caused the whole globe to flair red.
Hermione quickly jumped into action when Voldemort called the grass to his command. Blades of grass flew up into the sky and aimed for Harry, like miniature daggers. Hermione grimaced, blades of grass. That dark wizard has one screwed up imagination.
She threw a spell at the blades, turning them into flying roses. "Like your funeral flowers, my Lord?" Hermione half spat , half gasped, as she started running up to the hill to help Harry out. Hermione saw Ron running up from the other side of the hill. The traingle of truth was coming together once again.
"Well, well, a mud-blood has joined our little duel, Harry. Perhaps I should get rid of her first!" Voldemort had sneered, pointing his wand at Hermione. Suddenly she was frozen. Then she knew precisely what was happening. She wouldn't even be able to say anything before the green light hit her. He was in her mind, and he was forcing her to stand still.
But before he could ever hit her with the spell, Harry had acted. He summed a spell that was flying across the field, an Avada Kedevra to be exact, and had thrust the captured beam at Voldemort.
Voldemort had died, trying to fulfill his purpose: Killing Muggleborns. Screams of pain flew from the mouths of Death Eaters, the Dark Marks on their arms writhing in fury. Their screams were amplified by the magic pulsating in the air.
Harry had collapsed on the ground, Hermione and Ron beside him. Ron was injured, his arms looking as if they were Sectumsempra'd only moment's before. Hermione had a bruise blossoming above her left eye, and Harry had passed out.
Shortly after, all the Death Eaters, who were immobilized during their bouts of pain, were rounded up and sent to Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy included.
Three hours later, all had been administered the Dementors Kiss. Only one boy had escaped this experience. Draco Malfoy had not received the Dark Mark. His initiation was supposed to be the next night, but not one person could prove anything.
The most shocking thing was, was that Dumbledore had motioned Draco in his will, and announced, that as his dying wish, the boy was not to go to Azkaban.
To the fury of many Order members, and the rising anger of the Golden Trio, Draco slithered away unscathed, unlike the rest of his Slytherin friends.
After all of the funerals of deceased Order members, Hermione, Harry, and Ron had retreated back to the Burrow for the summer. This year, unlike years before, was quite, brooding, and a summer to reflect.
So that's what they did. They sat together, shared a few laughs. Hermione even got on a broom-stick, to every-one's surprise. To the rest of the world, they seemed like typical teenagers from afar, laughing while life threw obstacles into their paths. Had any of the observers come closer, they would have been frozen to the core to see their eyes, full of wisdom, regrets, and things that should have never been seen by human eyes.
They were not the only ones who had those eyes…
It just happened, that the other adolescence who was the owner of such a pair was in the same country…
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
It had been raining for sometime now. A sky of clouds met a layer of black umbrellas in the backyard of a huge mansion, called the Malfoy Manor. Lightning flashed in the sky,and the angry thunder drowned out the words of the wizard who was praying to Merlin to grant a safe passage to the underworld for the deceased man, who's soul had been sucked out by a Dementor.
It was a miracle that Draco could even get his fathers body from Azkaban. There had to be some perks to being a Malfoy, after all.
Draco had looked at the stone under which he father lay with a detached expression. Here lies the man who never loved anyone. He had thought to himself. The only people there were the wives and children of Death Eaters, and their pure-blood friends and children. Almost everyone in the vicinity was related to the man with no heart- seeing as he was a pureblood. Incest was quite common among their kind. Narcissa had cried silently beside her son, painting a picture of utter sorrow. Draco mearly stood quietly, hiding his complete hate for a father who never cared to know his son…
The young Malfoy shook away the memories and re-read the letter from Hogwarts, the place that he liked to call home. A place where he was free…Well, freer than he was at this place called the Malfoy Manor. Yet, instead of puzzling over the contents of the letter, he simply packed what was asked.
And so, another tale begins to emerge…one unexpected…and one completely off the course of the wizarding life…
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
The scarlet train whistled merrily, beckoning it's young passengers to come aboard. Hermione pushed through the brick-wall onto Platform 9 ¾. It seemed light years away when she was first here, standing in awe. She didn't admire anymore. All she wanted to do was get out of the throng of pushing, bumping people and get on the blasted train. With no warning, someone plowed into Hermione, sending her to the ground. She grit her teeth as she felt the skin on her palm get shredded.
" Oh! Sorry, can I help- oh Merlin, sorry Hermione!"
Hermione gave her unhurt hand to Harry, who righted her, and dusted off her shoulders, in a brotherly manner. "You OK?" he asked, green eyes concerned.
Hermione glanced at him and brushed his shoulder off, quietly. "I'm fine. You?"
"Never better!" Ron grinned, coming up from behind Harry. Dwarfing the Boy-Who-Lived, really. Hermione grinned. Her friends were back.
Harry grinned at Hermione. "I'll just go and save us a compartment. I'll memo you where I am," Harry said, before disappearing, dragging Ron with him, into the crowd.
A memo was a charmed sheet of paper, with a message; a less oragamic version of the paper crane that Draco sent to Harry in his third year.
Hermione ran a hand through her still, bushy hair and straightened her jeans and t-shirt. Nothing special. She bent down to pick up her books when a shadow fell over her.
"Well lookie here, is that the one, the only, the Mudblood Granger?" a voice drawled dramatically, from just above from her. "Where's your two brainless bodyguards? I've been meaning to talk to Scarhead."
"Well bless my soul, let me guess. Could that be the boy-turned-ferret?" she stood up and whirled around, fake astonishment masking her face. She gasped and put a hand to her heart in a dramatic movement.
In the next, her eyes were narrowed with hate. "Leave me the hell alone.I don't have any ferret treats for you today." She turned back around, set her things back in her pack and stalked to the scarlet train, which whistled merrily and drowned out Draco's comeback.
Brilliant. Hermione thought as she mentally thanked the train for it's timely interruption. She looked back over at the blonde-haired boy. "I'd love to stay and chat, Malfoy, but I have more important things to do than talk to walking scum." She sneered at his smirking, calm face, as clouds of smoke twirled above, and stalked to the scarlet train. She put her foot to get on.
Little did she know, that it was the first step to a completely bizarre adventure.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
The train ride was absolutely uneventful. Hermione sat there for the two hour trip and just re-read Hogwarts-A History for the 237th time, while Ron and Harry talked about the ban of Quidditch, and the mysterious event that was coming up. Hermione occasionally put in her two cents, but other than that, she just kept reading.
She had just finished mentally noting the last chapter when train began to slow down. She smiled anxiously stood up and looked to the opposite side of the compartment as Harry and Ron changed their robes. When she was told that she could turn back around, to face the now fully clothed bots, she went to get her robes, when her entire trunk fell from the compartment above her. She groaned as all of her school supplies and clothes fell out of the trunk. Harry and Ron instantly crouched down to help.
"No, it's ok. I've got it," Hermione said, frustrated with her apparent clumsiness, "You two go on ahead. I don't want you to be late."
Harry looked at her, with a sympathetic smile in her eye. "You sure?"
Hermione nodded. "I'll be fine," she assured them. They waved their goodbyes, and left.
Hermione blew the hair out of her eyes in an angry manner, and re-packed her trunk. Books on the left side, clothes on the right, and everything else in the center. In less than three minutes, she had finished packing her trunk, and had righted her robes. She quickly shrank her trunk and put it in her robes' pocket. I have to save those house elves the work. Hermione thought. She opened the door, but her foot caught the carpet, and she fell into the hallway, knocking over the person in front of her. The figure twisted, wrapping her in his arms and twisted, becoming a human pillow.
Hermione was winded! Before she could say thank you, a drawl that made her skin crawl came from the figure beneath her. Instantly his hands jerked away from her.
"Granger, would you mind getting off of me? I know you've been wanting this for a long time, but it's just going to have to wait." Draco drawled lazily in her ear,, hands holding her shoulders, pushing her roughly to the side. He reached out a hand to help her, but Hermione didn't touch it. She picked herself up, and glared into his ice blue eyes. He stepped closer to her. Hermione didn't more. She wasn't about to run away from that ferret!
Before she could even gasp, his hands were back on her shoulders, pushing her to the ground again.
"What was that for?" Hermione snarled, sitting up on the floor, legs out in front of her.
"Tsk, Tsk, Mudblood. When a person of higher social standing than you, well," he said with an after thought, "When someone better than you offers to help you off the floor, you accept."
Hermione glared at him, then narrowed her eyes at his outstretched hand. There was nothing good in his, oh-so-nice offer. "I told you once, Malfoy. Unless you have hearing disabilities, I think you got the message the first time. Leave me alone."
Hermione wasn't a fool. She couldn't take his hand. It was a trap. He knew it, she knew it. Worse was, she knew that he knew that she knew it.
Hermione turned off her observation that his hand was smooth, the long fingers looked wickedly capable. On his pointer finger was a ring, but before Hermione could even observe what was on it, she realized how close her face was to his hand. Before she knew it, those long supple fingers had grasped her chin, and forced it up into the air. Her eyes met his. He was leaning down, his trademark smirk on his face. Then he did the unbelievable. His hand released her chin, and while looking right into her eyes, he pettily slapped her cheek, forcing her face to the side. "You'll speak when spoken to, Mudblood. Especially around me. Now pass this message along to Potty boy, would you?" He said, surveying her face. She hadn't changed at all. Same bookworm. "Tell him to watch his back. I didn't escape Azkaban for nothing."
He stepped back to sneer at her some more.
"Oh.. you…you…scum!" Hermione retorted back. She pushed him into the side of the train, swept by with a dramatic air and stalked away from her arch enemy.
He's such a conceited, egotistical, chauvinistic male pig!"It's not over Mudblood! Just you wait!" he called with a mischievous smirk on his lips.
"Yes, I do believe the international ferret games are coming up soon." Hermione said with a huff of indignation. "We'll see how you fair."
Despite her courage, she did look back at him with a somewhat doubtful look in her eyes, and with a glare to shoot him dead, she was gone.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
Hermione walked into the great hall with everyone else and craned her neck for a place to sit.
It was an odd sight, everyone there dressed in their everyday clothes. All the muggleborns in jeans, t-shirts, keds, flip-flops…ect, and the purebloods dressed in suits, silks, short cocktail dresses. It was an interesting view. Her eyes roamed over to the Gryffindor table where she saw Harry and Ron sitting, talking in animated voices. As usual. She walked over to them and sat down.
"Say, where's Ginny?" Hermione asked, with a puzzled frown after looking around at the table and realizing that the girl wasn't there.
Harry's eyes flashed with longing, and Ron looked slightly sympathetic. "Mum insisted that she stayed home, remember?"
Hermione didn't. Ginny didn't even mention it. She didn't know how she could have missed the red-haired fire-cracker on the train. Hermione did go home for the last month of summer, but surely..
Ron, however, continued with his story. "Ginny locked herself up in her room and wouldn't come out for a week. But then mum told her that they were going to the Caribbean for several months, so she sucked it up and was helping mum cook this past week. Mum promised her that she'd be able to come when they're back from the Caribbean," he said, but the rest of his words were cut off as food appeared on the table.
Hermione laughed at several jokes that the boys told, but felt a pair of eyes on her. She glanced around , but didn't see anyone eying their way. She frowned and looked back at her plate, which had been cleared. Man. I was really looking forward to those strawberries! Too late now. She pulled up her eyes from her empty plate to the voice of none other than Minerva McGonagall.
"If I could have your attention please. I have several announcements to make." The new headmistress, having everyone's full attention, stood up and began to make her announcements.
"First off, I want to thank you and welcome you to this edited year of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most of you are probably wondering what in the world is going on. As most of you had read in the letters that I have sent to you, Many parents want time to spend with their children. As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I felt that it was my duty to open the school for those of you who either, had no parents," or had nowhere to go during this period of parent protectiveness. As you surely have noticed, all students year 1-4 are not here. Some of your fellow students are missing, because they are either at home, or…" she let her voice trail off, not being able to speak the words. "As I was saying, only years 5-7 are here, and you will be taken through a series of events which I think that you will find immensely interesting. I have gone through the will of Albus Dumbledore, and he has left me a book of ideas of what to do if times like this should occur.
'There will be no houses for the first half of the year. Nor will there be Heads of the School, or prefects. There will be no classes, but for those of you who wish for such further education, please see me after the feast is over, before being moved to your new home. Half of you will be living in miniature towns, molded in the fashion of Hogsmade and towns of the 16th century, others will be on ships."
A great sea of murmurs broke out through the hall.
"Silence please. The game is called Pirates and Nobles." She said, her voice filling with disdain. It was apparent that she thought, once again, that the former headmaster was off his knocker. It was only her respect for him that convinced her to do this. The murmurs that were just quieted just moments before by the new Headmistress broke out anxiously amongst the students.
"It is very similar too…..QUIET PLEASE!" she shouted over the whispers. "I will not tell you the rules, and I will enforce classes if this continues."
The silence became so absolute, that you could hear a feather fall through the air. Now, that Minerva was satisfied, she continued:
"You will each, however, be sorted into a pirate or a noble category. Now understand this, noble ladies, you will be instructed in the ways of etiquette, beauty, and the latest fashions of the era that you will be transported to. Noblemen, you will be instructed in the ways of the sword, and will be doing anything and everything to destroy your opponents: the pirates.
'Pirates: swordsmanship and cleverness will be expected in excellent form. I will set one teacher on each ship for two weeks, where they will teach you what you need to know. They will teach you the ways of pirates. After two weeks time, they will return to the castle, and will no longer be allowed inside of the game.
'After you have been sorted, you will separate into your groups. From there you will be separated into 5 pirate groups, and 3 villages/towns. Before I continue on, we will sort you into your category." she looked pointedly at Professor Snape.
He rose grudgingly and stepped forward with a shiny silver disk in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, and them seemingly, as if he could not find the words, he shut it. Minerva shot a look at him. "Severus, we are waiting." He shot a glare at the woman and began his speech.
"This is the Scope of Truth." he said . All eyes fixed upon the swinging object in his hands. "Each of you will step here. There is no need for names, just come up here, and hold the compass." He said, repeating himself in a roundabout way. He had never really talked this much with one breath in his whole life. But, his voice stayed completely monotone and dangerous. He ignored a greasy lock of hair that fell into his eyes and continued.
"I will watch over your shoulder, and tell you where you have been sorted."
Harry shuddered. "I don't think I'll like that part." he said, nudging Ron. Ron returned his look of disgust. Hermione simply rolled her eyes.
"I also think that-"
Harry's words were cut short when Professor Snape shot a glare at him.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I will also write down your name and where you were placed and announce it to the hall. Now hear this," he continued with a with his same-pitch voice, "The scope solely sorts your type of character, and where it thinks you will do better. It might even sort you at random, for the origins of this creation are not known. It will not speak- it's needle will either point to the crossbones, or it will point to the cutlass. There are a number of other symbols on the scope, a crown, a dress, and an assortment of others. The hand will stop at several of them, then, I will tell you what you are to my knowledge of these symbols.
'The headmistress has dosed me with a bit of Viraterserum- not," he stopped dangerously, discouraging any murmurs that might have surfaced, "because I can't be trusted. Only solely for the reason that some of you would get the notion that I am sorting you to my delight. The scope will divide you evenly. I have given the number, so some of you may be sorted out of your will. Please, do not, I repeat, do NOT complain after you have been sorted. The headmistress will address this matter once you have been sorted."
Professor Snape stepped back and gave the hall back to Headmistress McGonagall.
"Now if you would all please stand up from your seats!" There was a moment of rustling clothes, tennis shoes squeaking on the floor, silks rustling with the skin of their owners…
"Moventeniorum!"
With a flick of Minerva McGonagall's wrist, all the tables and benches were at the sides of the room, leaving the whole center of the hall an open space, as if there were about to be a dance. "Accio Stool!" she summoned, standing in the center of the space. The stool gracefully flew through the air and landed right in front of her. "Now students, if you would please gather in a one file circle around the stool, only then may Professor Snape continue with the sorting. Please be swift, the sorting will take some time, and we have yet to separate you into groups." She clapped her hands twice and went to make sure no one caused any trouble.
And all of the sudden, the room went dark. A golden light shone from seemingly a source above, and illuminated the stool.
All of the students quickly assembled in the desired shape, Hermione flanked by Harry and Ron, as usual. She looked up at Harry and whispered. "What do you think you'll be?"
Harry's eyes twinkled. "I think I'd be a Pirate. What about you eh, Ron?"
Ron smiled. "I think I'd like to be a Pirate too," and then there was silence.
Hermione frowned. Idon't know what I want to be. Thanks for asking though.
She looked around helplessly at all the other uncertain faces, when her eyes met with a pair of oh-so-stormy-cold grey eyes. Hermione glanced at Harry, who wasn't even paying attention. I will not be his new play toy !His pale blond hair shone lightly by an off cast of the beam. He almost looked like an angel. If it weren't for that trademark smirk of his…
Yes, he was smirking at her. Hermione rolled her eyes. And the fact that his head was so far up his behind, that he couldn't see straight…
After looking about, to make sure no one was watching him, he smirked again and mouthed to her. "Noblewoman!"
Yup. He definitely wasn't talking to Harry.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Stable boy!"
His smirk curled into a sneer, then looked away. He glanced away from Harry, who had just caught his glance. It wasn't fair to say that Draco was afraid, he just didn't want to talk to hi, be near him… But if the opportunity arose, then by all means. Let's make fun of the Scarhead.
No one made a move to be first. Hermione was about to step forward when a voice, literally, came from right beside her.
"Mr. Weasley. Why don't you be first?" Ron jumped in the air as the voice spoke from behind him. Minerva pushed him into the circle of light. "Off you go now."
Ron grimaced as he edged toward Professor Snape and the stool.
"All 7th years, please take one step forward, we will sort you first, after Mr. Weasley, of course." she stated.
The students did immediately as she had commanded.
Everyone watched as Ron sat onto the stool. He shifted uncomfortably, as if he could escape all of the eyes that were resting on his frame.
Professor Snape handed him the scope. "You will hold the scope in your hand until it falls onto either the cutlass, or the crossbones." The Professor said, so that everyone could hear.
He then leaned closer to Ron, and added, "Don't. Break. It."
Ron glared at the teacher then turned his eyes on the scope in his hands. He peered at the needle as it began it's journey from a shiny medal, to a castle, to the cutlass. Professor Snape chuckled, apparently amused. Except it was more of a "Mwahaha" seeing as Severus Snape would never chuckle. "Nobleman-General.. If you don't know what that is Mr. Weasley, it's.."
"I know what it means!" he said indignantly. "Where do I go now?" he asked to the new Headmistress.
She pointed to the front of the hall, towards the teachers table. Ron nodded his thanks and leaned against the table, watching as some of the other 7th years got sorted. Cho Chang was sorted as a Noblewoman, lady of the house, the Patil twins were also noblewomen. The only thing that was curious, was that all the girls that were sorted so far became noble women.
Pansy slowly walked up to the stool A few moments after she had sat down, Snape's voice cut the air. "Pirate Captain."
Pansy smirked and walked over to the opposite side of the hall, as gasps and murmurs breaking about the room. Now Pansy really was pug-faced. But she was like Cleopatra. The way she spoke (when she wasn't around Draco), made you want to be around her. She was really truly a Slytherin Queen. Another Cleopatra.
Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Mr. Potter, with your delay, it will take another year for the others to be sorted."
Harry bit back a retort, stepped confidently to the stool, and sat down with dignity. The scope was very quick this time. "Noble." at this, Harry's face fell with disappointment. "King."
A moments silence filled the room. Harry looked up from the scope, slightly confused. Snape's face was twirled in disgust.
"I'm confused, sir. King?"
The headmistress will explain it all later, Mr. Potter, now go to the nobleman side!"
Harry stood up in a shocked stupor and walked over to the teachers table. He was unaware of Draco's freezing glare.
He received a pat on the back from Ron. Neville also congratulated Harry, as he was too, a noble-General, along with Seamus.
Draco strutted up to the stool and set himself down with arrogant ease. Hermione observed him with hate.Look at him. Just sitting there.. He acts like he's king of the world. I hope you get stable boy, Malfoy. I sure hope you do. Her thoughts faded away as she looked at his face, peering confusedly at the scope. He still looked the same, after all these years. Arrogant, conniving, and… well, good. Hermione rolled her eyes. Instead she gazed at his long supple fingers, an odd feeling rushing through her body. She shook it off.
"Pirate Captain."
Hermione's head shot up in disbelief.
Draco's blue eyes smirked at her as he got up and walked over to join Pansy. "Noble-Whore!" he mouthed at her, after he saw that Harry wasn't paying attention to him. Looked like she was his new play-toy.Yay. Harry, who could take anything Malfoy threw, was out of reach for the moment. Socially, and physically.
Hermione glared at him, her eye contact only to be broken when she was gently pushed into the circle of light. She gingerly made her way to the stool and sat down.