There's No Place
Year 1 Part 1
Mal watched in disbelief as yet another train station attendant walked away shaking his head at the "stupid kid playing tricks." "Does anyone in this bloody place even know that Platform 9 and ¾ exists?!"
Zoë watched with amusement as a defeated Mal trudged his way back to her. "So, you planning on asking more attendants until we get ourselves noticed by security?" Her tone held more than a few hints of irony, which Mal supposed he deserved since he'd neglected to ask about Platform 9 and ¾ back when they'd had the chance in Diagon Alley.
The two foster siblings had followed their letters' instructions on how to get to the Leaky Cauldron. A few bus rides had gotten them to London, and from there they'd stumbled across the wizarding bar which luckily didn't ask too many questions when the two eleven-year-olds rented a room. They'd spent the week leading up to their departure for Hogwarts figuring out how to get money from Gringots without revealing that their parents didn't know they were here and buying up suplies for the school year. The two were high on a feeling of freedom like they'd never experianced before. For once in their life, They wouldn't be waiting around the corner to punish them. Mal and Zoë were utterly and completely free, and it was glorious.
It was also liable to leave one too idiotic to ask for directions to a very illusive Platform 9 and ¾. Thus their current predicament. Mal let out a groan, and put out his hand to the wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10, ready to execute an over-dramatic facepalm against the wal for his sister's entertainment. At least, that was the plan, but that kinda flew out of his head when he noticed that his hand was going ithrough/i the wall. He and Zoë shared a awe-filled glance. "You don't think..." Mal started, only for Zoë to nod. Together the two slipped their backpacks onto their shoulders and, as casually as possible, walked clean through the wall.
Mal had been half-expecting to be encased in the wall, but that was luckily not the case. What was the case was that they'd walked straight into a new and fairly crowded platform. People in a somewhat ridiculous robes were milling about everywhere, and in the middle of the chaos was a huge, maginificently scarlet train that bore the letters, "The Hogwarts Express." Mal couldn't keep the idiot grin off his face when he saw it. He'd always loved trains. Didn't know a thing about how they worked, of course, but that hardly ever seemed to matter. All that mattered was that they were a way to escape. Trains, buses, cars, planes, all of them were freedom incarnate and so of considerable interest to the boy.
Zoë nudged Mal's shoulder. "We should get moving. Train's supposed to leave soon." Her hand was closed in a white-knuckled grip on her wand. Mal remembered that the girl hadn't even blinked when that creepy wand-seller told her that it was aspen, 9 and a half inches, dragon heartstring, and unyielding. Mal looked down at his own wand, tucked nice and safe in his pocket. Ebony, 10 and ½ inches, dragon heartstring, and reasonably supple. He felt his grin building. He couldn't iwait/i to start using it to make magic.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by Zoë's voice. "Mal?"
Mal shook his head. "Yeah, no, I'm coming." He shifted his backpack more securely onto his back and followed the crowd to what looked like a baggage drop. Mal's grip onto his bag tightened fearfully. He and Zoë swaped equally panicked glances.
An older boy with a dark, pleasant face reached for Mal's bag. "Here, let me get that for you." Mal jerked his shoulder back defensively, tightening his grip on his bag. The boy's smile faltered for a moment before understanding lit his eyes. "Come on son, it'll be in your dorms when you get to Hogwarts. I'll make sure of it."
Mal looked reluctantly into the boy's eyes. For some reason, something in there deflated Mal's will to fight. Without a word, he handed his pack to the taller boy, Zoë following suit. Zoë'd probably have chopped off her hand if Mal had told her to.
The foster sibilings scrambled to get onto the train in the few minutes left before it was meant to depart. Mal was already beginning to regret leaving his bag with the taller boy. He'd probably lose it or send it to the wrong common room. Mal and Zoë looked for an empty compartment, not much wanting to talk to anyone, but the closest they got was occupied by a young blond boy. He looked up with a cheerful grin when Mal and Zoë slipped in. "Hey there! My name's Wash."
Despite his determination to be as stand-offish as possible, Mal couldn't surpress an amused snort. "Wash? What kinda name is that?"
The boy didn't seem offended. "Well, to tell the truth my name's really Hoban Washburne, but Wash seemed the better option overall."
Mal found the boy's cheerfullness annoying, but really, it'd be rude not to tell him their names. "I'm Mal Reynolds, this here's my sister Zoë Warren."
Wash grinned somewhat stupidly at Zoë, who looked for all the world like she'd rather eat soap than sit and chat with Wash. The blond boy babbled on, "My family're all wizards. My uncle works in the ministry. My brothers were all in Gryffindor, but I'm figuring my charm and wit'll land me in Ravenclaw." Wash was clearly joking, but his babble grated nonetheless.
One part of what he'd said had caught Mal's attention. "Gryffindor?" He'd heard about the different houses of Hogwarts, but he really didn't know as much as he might like about it. This kid might be useful after all.
Wash didn't even look embarrassed or anything about the siblings' obvious cluelessness, which Mal took as a kindness. "Yeah, Gryffindor's the house of the brave." He was met with blank stares. "Each of the houses takes in kids with a certain trait," he explained. "Gryffindor is for the brave and daring, Ravenclaw is for the wise, Hufflepuff is for the loyal, and Slytherin is for the cunning." The boy leaned back lazily against the cushiony bench. "Everyone says that all the dark wizards come from Slytherin and all the heroes come from Gryffindor, but plenty of great wizards come from the other houses."
Mal didn't like to admit how clueless he was, but this information was too important to pass up. "How about the other two then?"
Wash chuckled. "Well, my dad always liked to say that Ravenclaws were all stuck up, but he's just jealous that Ravenclaw always beat his house at Quidditch."
Another new word. "Quidditch?"
Wash's grin turned from friendly to enthusiastic. "Oh yeah! Quidditch is one of the best wizarding sport." He bounced up so he was on his knees, leaning forward excitedly. "See, it's played on brooms with all the players flying way up in the air and passing a ball around. I can't wait to try out, but unfortunately they don't let you on the team until second year." The boy's face was lit up with excitement.
Mal hated how awed he must look. Flying brooms? A game played way up in the air? He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but suddenly it didn't matter so much. He never in all of his dreams could have thought up something so amazing. He'd never thought that maybe one day he'd fly. He leaned closer to Wash. "You've played Quidditch before?"
Wash nodded, "Yeah my dad and I used to play it all the time."
Mal swapped a quick, excited glance with Zoë before asking, "Listen, any chance you could maybe teach us how to play?" Zoë stiffened beside him but he ignored her. Sure, Wash was way too cheerful, but he was also proving to be increasingly useful, and Mal wasn't in the habit of ignoring useful people.
Wash looked surprised. "Sure!"
The blond boy babbled on for a while, Mal and Zoë mostly drowning him out. Mal's mind was wwandering from Quidditch to Hogwarts to the four houses. He and Zoë were gonna be Gryffindors, he was sure of it. After all they'd been through, after Them, how could anyone say they weren't brave? He tried to imagine what Hogwarts itself would be like. The word "castle" had been used to describe it, but Mal couldn't associate a school with a caslte in his head.
Hours seemed to pass before the Hogwarts Express screeched its way to a slow stop. A great mass of students was trying to push its way through the narrow hallways of the train. Mal and Wash were content to wait, but Zoë rolled her eyes. "Follow me." The girl strode confidently into the hall and began to shoulder her way almost effortlessly through the crowd. Mal and Wash followed her as closely as they could, and before they knew it they were off the train. Mal grinned as he readjusted his ruffled robes. "Knew I kept you around for something," he quipped to Zoë, who just smirked back.
"Firs' years! Firs' years to me!" The three kids turned to see what seemed to be a giant standing by the lake, waving a latern in his massive hand. It was too foggy out to see the castle yet, and the way the mist rolled over the water seemed more ominous than welcoming. But the giant seemed friendly enough. "Firs' years over 'ere!"
Mal led his little rag-tag bunch to the giant. Soon a whole group of short little first-years was bunched around the huge man. "Alright you lot, only four to a boat." The crowd immediately started pushing and shoving and trying to fit as many of their friends onto the boats as possible. In the chaos of the crowd Zoë got seperated from Mal and Wash. Mal saw her being herded onto a boat with a pair of dark-haired twins. They met gazes for a moment, then Zoë shrugged and stepped onto her boat. They'd meet up again at the castle.
Mal let Wash lead him onto an empty boat where they were soon joined by two girls. Mal tried to keep from staring. He'd never really paid attention to girls, being eleven, but even he had to admit that the two girls were very pretty. But there was something arrogant in that beauty, especially in the one sitting right across from him. She held out a hand that Mal shook dubiously. "I'm Inara, and this is my friend Nandi." Her voice seemed too formal, cold somehow.
"I'm Mal, and that's Wash." The side of the boat suddenly became very interesting to look at. He zoned out as Wash and Nandi began to chat. Apparrently Inara and Nandi both belonged to very high-class pureblood families, and Wash was distantly related in some such way.
"And how about you?"
Mal started, looking up to see Inara staring at him expectantly. "Say that again?"
His feeling of foolishness was only increased by Inara's raised eyebrow. "I was asking if your parents were wizards."
Yes, there was definitly something arrogant about her. Mal crossed his arms defiantly in front of his chest. "I reckon I don't rightly know," he drawled in as obnoxious an accent he could manage. That uneducated accent had always managed to infuriate Them, and it had become a weapon of choice agaisnt them that thought themselves better than Mal. "They're dead." His glare challenged Inara to argue the point.
Inara narrowed her eyes at Mal's unfriendly tone. "I'm sorry," she said, soundly only slightly so. There was a long, awkward silence that was finally broken by Wash cracking a joke that sent Nandi into hysterics. Mal and Inara finally joined into the conversation, but avoided speaking to each other for the rest of the boat ride.
As the boats drew close the the school, the fog rolled away and dramatically unveiled the school. Inara gasped and Wash let out a low whistle. As for Mal, all he could do was stare. Whoa. Castle was right. There was no other way to describe the majestic fortress in front of them. Mal was still in something of a daze as the boats reached the shore and he and Wash were rejoined by Zoë.
The first years were bustled into the castle. Mal tried to hide how awed he was by the grand staircases and glorious paintings. It was all more wonderful than he could have ever hoped for. An older woman with a tight bun and a strict, worn face stepped out in front of the children. "I am Proffessor McGonnagal. Welcome to Hogwarts." She explained briefly that they were about to be sorted and what each of the houses were, then she led them into a grand hall.
The rest of the students were seated at four long tables. At the far end of the hall stood a small wooden stool. On that stool sat a scruffy, pointy wizard's hat. After the talking letters, Mal really shouldn't have been that surprised when the hat burst into song, but it was still something of a shock. It spouted out a small ditty about the virtues of each of the houses. Mal chuckled when the hat mentioned that Hufflepuff house took in "all the rest." Guess I don't want to go there. McGonnagal began to call out names off a list. Each child tried on the hat, and after varying pauses the hat would cry out the chosen house.
"Malcolm Reynolds." Mal's stommach did sommersaults as his name was called. With as much confidence as he could muster he sauntered up to the Sorting Hat. The old felt hat slipped down over his eyes, leaving Mal in darkness. A hoarse whisper sounded in his ears. "Well, you've seen your share of trouble, haven't you? Plenty of courage there, yes, but cautious too, that's interesting. You don't trust anyone, do you?"
Mal's jaw tightened. In a voice low enough for only the hat to hear, he drawled, "As interesting as you insulting me is, d'you think we could maybe speed this up?"
The hat let out a throaty chuckle. "Ah, you're an impatient one. But you and your sister... ah yes, I think I know just where to put you." Mal's breath caught in his throat as the hat screamed out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Mal froze. Hufflepuff? He'd thought he'd be a Gryffindor for sure! He cast a less-than-thrilled glance over at the Hufflepuff table, where a prefect with a smiling face waited to greet him. Somewhat sullenly he handed the hat back to McGonnagall and made his way over to the Hufflepuff table. The prefect patted him once on the shoulder. "Don't worry mate, being a badger's not so bad." Mal just nodded and sat.
A few more kids were sorted before there was someone Mal recognized. McGonnagal called out, "Inara Serra!" Mal watched moodily as the graceful girl swept up to the stool. The hat deliberated for several moments before finally calling out, "SLYTHERIN!" Inara made her way gracefully to the Slytherin table where, to Mal's surprise, she was greeted by the tall boy who had taken Mal's bag. Mal glared at him. He's a Slytherin? Knew there was something about him I didn't like.
Mal's anxiety was mounting by the time McGonnagal called out "Zoe Warren!" His foster sister threw him a quick, anxious glance before marching confidently up to the stool. The hat had barely touched her head before it sreamed, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Mal let out the breath he'd been holding and scooched over to make some room for his siter. Nothing was going to seperate them. It was going to be all right now.
As Zoe walked to her seat, Wash was called up. He gave Zoe a thumbs-up as he passed her. Zoe just rolled her eyes and came to sit beside her brother. Wash's grinning face was soon covered by the hat. It sat on his head for several moments before finally crying out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Wash made his way over to the Hufflepuff table, still grinning. "Now we can play on the same Quidditch team!" he said to Mal, who found himself not unhappy with the prospect. Wash was followed by an Atherton Wing, who was sorted into Gryffindor, then another, then another.
The last kid to be sorted was a small red-headed girl with a name that Mal completely missed. Now that the whole Sorting thing was over, the boy's mind was growing drowsy. The Feast was something of a blur, and before Mal knew it, he was being led with the other Hufflepuffs to a passage near the kitchen. A prefect tapped the barrels in front of the passage, which opened up to reveal the Hufflepuff common room. Mal let himself be shuffled into the boy's dormitory, barely awake by the time he collapsed on the comfy, honey-colored bed. His last thought before drifting off to sleep was, Well, we're here now. Zoe and I are safe here.
For now.
I know I said I'd post a lion king fix before this, but I just uploaded all of The Quiet Before the Storm, so I'll count that as my new chapter.
I know you might not agree with all of my house placements for our lovely crew. Let me explain myself. Mal is a Hufflepuff because of his dedication and loyalty to his crew. Bravery he has, yes, but he's proven himself more than capable of running away from a fight for himself or his crew. He's not a Slytherin either, his crew's safety is rated over his own.
Zoë is a Hufflepuff because of her extreme loyalty to Mal and Wash. River said in the Serenity novelization that Zoë wasn't hard to figure out because everything she did was based on her loyalty to them, and that she would happily die for either of them.
Wash is a Hufflepuff because he's frankly not a fighter, and he's very friendly and a people person.
Inara's a Slytherin because she's cunning and very resourceful - she's used to manipulating people and using seduction and, as Mal calls them, her "feminine wiles." I'm not calling Inara a bad person at all. Remember, not all Slyhterins are Death Eaters.
Atherton's a Gryffindor because frankly he's too idiotic to be a Ravenclaw or Slytherin even, and he's clearly not a coward because he's an expert swordsman and would have rathered Mal kill him than be humiliated.
Shepherd's a Slytherin because we all know he has a dark and dangerous past.