Hail, brave friend
The Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was enchanting as always. The ceiling was the colour of the deepest blue, silver clouds meandering amidst the moon and stars. High relief detailed the buttresses and walls and the huge stained-glass windows added to the feeling of wonder and mystic. Of course, the floating candles were just enough.
Aldhem Armanda, the newly appointed headmaster rose from behind the head table and walked around it towards a golden carved eagle, perched on a translucent green orb, with its wings tucked to its side and its head lowered.
Professor Armanda came to a stop in front of the podium and with a flick of his wand, a few candles descended from the air and slid into brackets. He raised his arms and spread them in manner of welcome. Just as soon as he did so, the owl that was previously stationary, unfurled its wings and snapped its head up, fixing the first-years crowded at the base of the steps with a stare. Gasps resounded around the room, intermixed with the mutterings of the rest of the older students before all fell quiet.
The eyes of the students trained on him, boring like tiny screw drivers into his skin. Behind him, the rest of the staff also stared at him, gauging and waiting. He dropped his right hand onto the tabletop and propped his chin on the left, his eyes hooded. He looked like he was bored to be here. He sent a smile, his eyes crinkling as his vision swept through the hall, taking in glimpses of faces as everybody leaned towards the closest person and whispered about how nuts the new headmaster seemed. He straightened up; the jovial smile still etched onto his face and rested his hands, leaning slightly forward. 'Good evening; everyone.'
The attention back onto him, he continued, 'I would like to introduce some changes in staff as of this year. First of all; Wilhelmina van Avendonk will be our new Professor of Astronomy.' A pretty blonde stood up and bowed her head as both teachers and students clapped politely.
'Next, we have Neville Longbottom as our new Herbolo-'
The words hadn't even formed on his lips before the thunderous sound of clapping and whooping filled the air. The farthest table on his left seemed to be making the most noise, thumping on the table and cheering.
Armanda raised a hand and the noise dwindled before silence was again restored. 'We already have favourites it seems,' he said, tilting the side of his lips into a smile towards the blushing Neville as he hastily took his seat again.
'And lastly, I am your new headmaster, Professor Aldhem Armanda,' he announced with the smirk still on his mouth. The hall erupted into a crescendo of claps, starting quite loud and abrupt before dwindling into quietness. They didn't really know what to think about the new headmaster. A woman with pale, wheat coloured hair came through the door leading to the antechamber, holding a wooden stool with what appeared to be a crumpled piece of black cloth atop it.
Once the stool was placed in the middle of the platform, in front of the first-years, the cloth righted itself into a crumpled, down-trodden wizards' hat. It had creases rippling through its cone and brim, and was extremely dirty.
The older students started chattering and turned fully towards the hat, as if waiting for it to do something. This caused some of the first-years to still themselves and stare at it as well. Others flippantly slouched and dug their hands deeper into their robe pockets, as if already knowing what would happen next. But then there were the ones who were bordering hysteria. And Rhoda Hadley was one of them.
She placed her palm on top of her chest and could almost feel the vibrations her sonorous heart was making. Her fingers twitched towards her neck and played with the short hair there. Her breathing came out in gasps as she tried to calm her frazzled nerves, altogether forgetting to pay attention to what her headmaster was saying.
The moment of silence continued after the headmaster had introduced the hat as the Sorting Hat but was broken by a loud, raspy voice … coming from the hat.
Rhoda stared at in bewilderment and gaped openly. "Keep staring," it had said, "I might do a trick!" She couldn't help but ponder on the levels of irony that phrase possessed. The voice came from a deep fold near the brim of the hat, acting as its mouth. She noticed that the creases on the cone near the tip were distressed in a way as to show a pair of frowning eyes. Clever.
The tear along the brim opened once more and it belted out a song.
Muggle-borns such as Rhoda almost fainted at the sight. Glee crept up to her face and it broke out into a smile as she watched it jiggle the tip of the cone along with its words.
'For valiant Gryffindor,
'Twas those brave hearts with chivalry
And their nerve of steel and dare,
That placed them in his house surely.'
A roar of applause came from the farthest table to Rhoda's right and she looked over to see a multitude of students smiling and clapping. They were all wearing red and gold she noticed.
'Or in gentle Hufflepuff,
Those who are sweet natured and kind,
Loyalty being most valued,
No better friend you will find.'
An elbow dug into her side and she looked down at her newest friend, Clarissa Grieves, as she whispered sneakily to her 'That's the only house I hope to never get in!' Rhoda frowned at that comment, but didn't reply.
'…Now slip me onto your noggin'
And let me tell you where you belong!'
Rhoda joined the rest of the clapping students but dread was soon settling into her stomach as she remembered what was coming next.
'Now!' Headmaster Armanda clapped his hands together, 'Let's get on with the sorting!' The hat stilled once again.
'I shall be announcing the names of the first-years, alphabetically ordered, and each one at a time will sit upon the stool and wear the hat,' Armanda pointed towards a short stool. A ripple of nervousness and excitement went through the crowd of pre-teens. Some were at ease, knowing how the Sorting proceeded and were predicting in which house they would get in. The butterflies in Rhoda's stomach increased ten-fold and her heart increased its tempo, as if to compete with the rate at which blood whistled through her veins. She was a nervous wreck.
'Abrahams, Derek.'
The voice of the headmaster brought her back to reality and she watched as a short boy with a mop of black hair clambered up the steps. He took the hat in his hands and placed it upon his head before he sat on the stool.
She glanced at Clarissa and saw her on her tip-toes, trying to see past the heads of her peers. She turned to Rhoda and shot her a smile before she fell back onto her feet and slipped her arms around her torso and folded them. The smirk was still on her face and she played with a strand of hair, as if everything around her was boring.
Well she had said that her parents were both magic so this must not be much of a surprise, Rhoda thought. She had met Clarissa at King's Cross. Rhoda was with her mother and both had been utterly lost. They had combed all of the station, searching for platform 9 ¾. They had tried getting someone to help them find it but were only greeted by suspicious and bewildered stares.
Her mother was about to pull her out of the station, telling her that after all, this was only a joke played on them and that no such thing as Hogwarts existed (even if they had been visited by a barmy woman who claimed to be a witch and a member of staff of said school whose behaviour only served to heighten my mother's suspicion) when she was rammed into by a trolley.
She had loitered in front of the brick between platforms 9 and 10. Rhoda was flung backwards, her thin frame not being that strong, while the person holding the trolley muttered a quick apology before shooting back towards the brick wall and disappearing through it. Dumbfounded, she gaped at where he was. She hadn't even noticed the girl standing next to her until she had spoken.
'My brother is a serious idiot, I'm sorry.' She had said and lent Rhoda a hand. She grasped it and lifted herself up. Before she could thank her though, her mother swooped over to her and started dusting her off and patting her head like some sort of puppy.
'Mum, I'm okay!' she gasped out and tried to escape her grip. She isn't usually like this, Rhoda mused the herself, I suspect she's going to miss me more than she is letting on. The girl had long disappeared and so Rhoda recounted to her mother how the boy had disappeared through the wall. Her mother shot her a worried look, the type of look people shoot someone who suddenly says that jellyfish make good hats, but let her do it after Rhoda reasoned with her that she wouldn't sprint at it.
She slipped easily through the wall and was greeted by an open gate and clusters of people in front of a gleaming red steam engine. For what felt like the millionth that day, she stared stupefied at it. Everything had a dream-like quality to it and she couldn't help the quickening of her pulse or the tears that threatened to spill any moment as she thought that all of her wildest dreams becoming true.
She was soon re-acquainted with reality as yet another trolley rammed into her. 'Watch where you're going!' A scornful voice snapped before barging past. She was left folded against the handle of her own trolley, winded. Taking a deep breath in, she wheeled her trolley further in and waited for her mother to appear.
All sorts of people walked past her; very, very intriguing people. A whole trope of red-headed children and adults walked past her, their hair gleaming an odd pinkish glare in the sunlight. She then noticed a man with silver-tipped blue hair clutching the hand of probably the prettiest girl she had ever seen in her life.
Just as she was gazing at a couple of boys clustered together exchanging what seemed to be cards, her mother appeared through the wall. She hurried towards her daughter and clapped a hand on her shoulder, steering her through the masses. 'What took you so long?' the girl inquired.
'Oh I was talking to this very nice lady! She said her son's starting first year as well. His name's Andrew Boyle.' She beamed at her daughter and came to rest in front of the train. Soon it was time to board and after goodbyes; Rhoda hefted up her trunk and climbed the steps quite easily. She looked back at her much shorter peers who struggled to lift one foot along with their trunk. She walked down the aisle trying to find an empty compartment, deciding she would rather prefer people asking her to share the carriage then her asking someone else.
Before long she was sharing her carriage with three boys. They were all hilarious. She spent most of the train ride laughing. It was about midway through the journey that she had met formerly with Clarissa. She burst into the compartment with a flurry. She had interrupted a lengthy explanation that Rory (one of the boys) had been giving to her about who Ronald Weasley was and why he was on the chocolate frog card.
Her slight figure sat next to her, sweeping her hair out of her face with a hand while the other was out, towards Rhoda. Rhoda, for the umpteenth time flustered, took her hand with her larger one and shook it feebly.
'Hi, my name's Clarissa Grieves,' she grinned at Rhoda, 'I'm sorry about what my brother did to you, really.'
Rhoda gulped and noticed that she hadn't offered her name to her.
'Uh, it's not his fault; I was standing around like an idiot.' She said taking back her clammy hand. 'I'm Rhoda Hadley, by the way.' She sent her a quivering smile, hoping against hope she wasn't acting like a big buffoon.
The smile on Clarissa face slowly descended and was replaced by a look of deep perplexity. 'Wait, wait so you're … a girl?'
Rhoda blinked.
Clarissa stared.
Rory, Charles and Hugh burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs and rolling in their seats.
'O-of course I'm a girl! Do I look like a boy?' Rhoda's voice took a panicked tone that matched her face which had adopted the look a mouse would wear while facing a cat.
Clarissa squirmed in her seat and wrung her hands together. 'It's just that you're so tall! You're probably taller than the third years, and you're short hair doesn't help either.'
Rhoda's hands flitted to the spiky mess atop her head. It wasn't the case of her wanting to adopt the look of a tomboy; there was a very plausible cause for her lack of hair. She turned into her seat and slunk into it, folding her hands on top of her stomach. Rory, Hugh and Charles leaned forward in their seats, still sniggering. Clarissa looked a bit apprehensive but turned her head towards Rhoda, waiting intently for what she had to say.
Taking a deep breath, she began. 'Last week, my cousin stuck a piece of gum in my hair and I couldn't wash it out, so I had to cut it.' her hand rose again and ruffled the short locks of hair resting against her forehead. Clarissa bit her lip and fingered her own quite long hair.
The boys chortled before Charles asked her, 'So what blade did you put on the razor?' The joke was lost on Clarissa and Rory, whom she found out later where both from wizarding families, but Hugh erupted into another fit of laughter, soon joined by Charles. Rhoda scowled at them crossly.
They spent the rest of the journey together, joking and laughing. Clarissa explained some things to her about Hogwarts and the new magical world Rhoda was now part of. They were mostly uninterrupted, except for one time when a disgruntled looking boy with pale blonde hair that looked more like white to Rhoda burst into the compartment asking them if they had seen a grey cat. Rory recognised him as Scorpius Malfoy (What a funny name, Rhoda thought) and they all introduced themselves even though Scorpius looked like he'd rather be somewhere entirely different.
After, they started discussing houses and where they would like to be put. Rory said he would probably end up in Gryffindor as most of his family was part of that house; the other two agreed that they would like to be in Gryffindor because "it sounded awesome"; Clarissa said she would probably be in Ravenclaw because of her parents and brother being part of that house and Rhoda just couldn't really see herself fit with any. Loyalty? She had it, in abundance, but more to herself. She didn't have a lot of friends growing up because of all the peculiarities that happened around her. Was she intelligent? She wasn't stupid but she wasn't bright either. Was she cunning? Not really. Or brave? She often times wondered if she was a mouse in her past life. The only words that really summed her up were awkward and shy. Was there a house for people like her?
Her mind drifted away from the morning and towards what was happening. The Sorting. She was assured that the process was simple but she couldn't help but feel terror race through her veins.
'Grieves, Clarissa!'
She looked to the girl next to her and gave her a small smile. Clarissa adopted her custom wide, if not slightly arrogant, grin and made her way through the remaining people. She clambered up the steps and took the hat in her hands before sitting down. The hat, now on her head, slipped down her head and rested on her shoulders. Laughter flickered through the hall as everyone took in the sight of the shortest first-year. Rhoda could just imagine her turning red and clenching her fist. She found out that morning that Clarissa didn't like being reminded how short she was. When Hugh made a remark about it, she kicked his shin, hard.
The hat's voice suddenly broke through the noise with a cry of, 'SLYTHERIN!'
Clarissa sat still for a few further minutes before she pulled of the hat and set it back on the stool. She grinned and walked towards the table on the farthest left, which was clapping and cheering.
Rory's words came back to her. He said that Slytherin were the sly ones, just like their mascot implied. "Nasty folk, they are," he intoned, "my dad told me so." She nodded gravely at him, drinking in the little piece of information. She was as sly as a bull in a china shop; she brooded, not subtle and surely not fitting for Slytherin.
As she watched another girl being sorted, she couldn't help but wonder where the hat would put her. She wasn't witty, or clever or particularly brave. She wasn't cunning and sly like her new friend Clarissa probably was. And she wasn't kind and loyal like the Hufflepuffs the Sorting Hat described. She was often times shy and quiet with her head down and when someone bothered to talk to her, she would be smarmy and bitter.
Thinking back, it was probably because of how her class mates treated her. They called her Giraffe or The Tall Weirdo to make fun of her stature and weird tendencies. What she hated most was when they made her play basketball. She detested that sport with a passion and had no particular talent for it but they still lamented her for not scoring or causing the team to lose. She wondered if wizards and witches had any from of sport. She had forgotten to ask Rory. Well even if they have, she thought, I want no part of it.
Just as she was settling into a somewhat half-conscious state were only her thoughts kept her company; an elbow dug into her side, harshly. She looked down and saw the scrunched up face of Scorpius Malfoy staring up at her. She rose an eyebrow and was about to ask him what his problem was when he whispered, 'It's your turn, idiot!'
'Hadley, Rhoda… Hadley, Rhoda! Rhoda?'
She gulped down the bile that was rising up her throat, the once-banished butterflies flitting back into her stomach as she waded her way through the students.