+++Chapter 2+++
When the train had finally pulled to a stop, its occupants now all dressed in their school robes (Thanks, in large part, to a pint-sized brunette that went around informing each compartment that, "They would be arriving at their destination shortly, and it would be appropriate if everyone began to adorn themselves with their robes so as to not delay the feast that would most surely be awaiting them." Santana started to tell the girl, that was already dressed in her own robes which appeared to be ironed and re-ironed, just what she could adorn herself with when Brittany distracted her by scurrying back onto the luggage rack and diving headfirst into her trunk excitedly) Quinn was still shooting Brittany her infamous icy glares every now and then, but she had at least stopped shaking her head and muttering the word 'murderer' over and over again.
"So, why are you coming to Hogwarts?" Santana asked Brittany curiously as they pulled the luggage down from the rack. She was actually rather thankful to have the odd girl with them to keep her company during the ride, since Quinn had decided to go into full Ice Queen mode.
"Because I'm a wizard," Brittany beamed proudly.
"You're a witch," Quinn corrected agitatedly.
"What's the difference?"
Quinn groaned, "Santana, grab your trunk and let's go."
Santana narrowed her eyes at her in warning before turning back to Brittany, "Wizards are boys; witches are girls, duh."
"But I want to be a wizard," Brittany's bottom lip fell into a soft pout.
"I can't…" Quinn rolled her eyes before walking haughtily out of the compartment and into the mill of people trying to exit the train.
Santana's eyes turned upwards as she whispered a prayer in Spanish, asking for strength. It was the one she had heard her nanny mutter on countless occasions during her childhood when Santana's rather precociousside would show itself. She turned back to Brittany to find her pout had deepened.
"Is she mad at me?" Brittany asked, her eyes a mixture of sadness and confusion.
"No, she's just…Quinn gets into these moods sometimes; it isn't your fault," Santana found herself reassuring the other girl, because frankly, she gave a more pitiful set of puppy dog eyes than any actual puppy Santana had ever seen. "Come on, we better catch up with Quinn before she bites some poor kid's head off. It would suck if I wasn't there to be able to laugh at it."
Brittany nodded, stepping aside to let Santana pass and lead the way out of the compartment and off of the train. Once they reached the platform, Santana pushed up on her toes to try and scan through the crowd. When her eyes finally landed on her friend, she couldn't help but laugh; Quinn had already managed to find a tall, gangly boy to pull her trunk for her.
This was it, Santana decided as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. The time for her to start making her mark was now. She stepped towards the pair of them with a smirk in place, "Hey Q, what's with Sasquatch?"
The boy wiped his leaking nose with the back of his hand before stretching it out for her to shake, "Finn Hudson."
"That's disgusting," Santana replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Brittany S. Pierce," Brittany greeted him, shaking his hand with enthusiasm from beside Santana. "Are you a first year, too?"
"Yep, sure am," he grinned goofily.
"Turns out Finn, here, grew up on farm land that my daddy owns," Quinn explained.
"A farm?" Santana couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes, it was just too easy. "What? Were your parents so poor they had to feed you fertilizer or something?"
Brittany giggled.
"Santana…" Quinn admonished, though she was unable to keep a small smile from her lips.
"He's freakishly tall," Santana pointed out.
"Finn has been nice enough to agree to carry my trunk for me."
"She said it was my duty…or something…" Finn replied unsurely.
Santana chuckled to herself, looked like Quinn had found herself a new person to use. At least that meant she had forgotten about Brittany and her unfortunate cat disposal for the time being.
"It is," Quinn nodded reassuringly at him. "Men are supposed to carry the things that women are too delicate for."
Finn stood up straighter, and Santana figured it was the first time someone other than the kid's mom had called him a man. She shook her head; Quinn definitely had the art of using people down to a science, and this Finn kid was just her latest experiment.
+++GW+++
"How much further?" Santana grumbled as they trudged through the mud that covered the grounds from the afternoon rains. Her shoes made a disgusting squelching sound as she pried them from the wet field with each step she took."Why couldn't we go with the older kids? I bet they are already inside, dry and eating their fill."
"I smell water," Brittany commented, standing up taller to try to see over the crowd of first years as they came to a stop. Santana followed suit, realizing that no matter how much Brittany stretched, she would never be able to see anything from her height. Even with her advantage of a couple of inches, though, Santana was unable to see past a couple of rows of students, let alone to the front of the group and the reason for their sodden halt.
"They do this every year," a voice next to Santana piped up. "I think it is a wonderful way to flaunt the property to all of us new students, don't you?"
She turned to find the short brunette from the train standing next to her, and she felt a rumble emanating from deep in her throat.
"Nobody asked you, Elf," Quinn replied, her hazel eyes sparking.
The girl squeaked in surprise.
"Run along," Santana motioned with her fingers, watching as she scurried off. "Quinn, can't your troll do something useful with his height and see what the holdup is?"
"It's too dark," Finn shook his head. "I can't see that far."
"Oh hell no!" a voice at the front of the group declared.
"Alright, that's it, Santana Lopez does not wait in the back," Santana declared before pushing her way to the front of the crowd, feeling the rest of their small group following behind. Once there, she discovered a large lake lying in front of them with dozens of tiny wooden canoes, barely big enough for two, tethered to the shore.
"There's no way I'm getting in one of those things," the owner of the voice continued.
Santana looked to find a round black girl, arguing with a man large enough to make even Finn look miniature, and covered in clothing that looked and smelled as if it had been freshly taken from some sort of carcass.
"But, uh…you…you have to," the large man replied unsurely. "We do this every year with the first years."
"Do you know what that water is going to do to my hair?" the girl demanded, a hand on her hip.
Santana couldn't help but think the girl's hair couldn't get any worse from its current state of tight curls that were standing on end and going in whichever direction they so pleased, but she didn't say anything because she was definitely in agreement with her on this debate.
"But your hair won't even be getting wet," the man tried, his voice downtrodden. "You'll be in a boat."
"You call that rinky dink thing a boat?"
"I'm with curly fries on this one," Santana nodded. "I am not going to get into one of those sad excuses for water transportation and row myself across a lake filled with God knows what. And who knows the last time that water's even been cleaned."
There was a chorus of "Yea's!" behind her, and Santana crossed her arms over her chest with a smirk. They weren't even inside yet, and she already had the support of the people.
"Well…er…" the man fumbled. "Nobody's ever refused to go across the lake before."
"One time I refused to take a bath for a week because I was afraid of getting sucked down the drain," Brittany commented thoughtfully.
"What happened?" Finn asked curiously.
"My mom eventually caught me and put me in the tub herself, promising that if I took a bath, I'd get a creamsicle, and that if I did get sucked down the drain, I'd never have to take a bath again."
"Did you?"
"No," Brittany replied sadly. "Now I have to bathe every night."
"Man, that sucks…"
Santana hadn't heard a word of their conversation, though, because she was too focused on the smile on the large man's round face that told her Brittany had said too much. Next thing she knew, she was being lifted off the ground and placed into one of the small boats, her arms still firmly crossed as Brittany scrambled to the front of the boat to give her more room.
"I'm still not rowing," Santana declared.
"You don't have to," the man replied with a huff, before pushing their boat off of the shore with ease.
"It stinks here," Santana grumbled, as the tiny vessel started to slowly move, entirely on its own accord, towards the large castle looming in front of them.
"Santana, look, isn't it beautiful?" Brittany sighed, kneeling precariously on her seat to be able to look out over the water.
"Be careful," Santana instructed holding on to the sides of the boat with both hands as it started to rock when Brittany leaned forward even further. "It's not steady."
"I think I see Nemo!" Brittany gasped excitedly, her entire upper body now hanging over the edge of the boat.
"Brittany, please," Santana urged. "There could be some really dangerous things in there."
"Like sharks?" Brittany sat back quickly.
Santana's hands gripped the sides tighter, her knuckles turning white, "Worse than sharks."
"What could be worse than a shark?" Brittany asked, her eyes turning curious before she leaned back over the edge to attempt to see for herself.
Santana groaned, "Just please, sit down, and I'll tell you all about them."
"Look, there's Nemo again; I think I can reach him!" Brittany stretched even further, and before Santana could jump up to catch her, the curious blonde had plunged head first into the water.
"Brittany!" Santana yelled, searching the opaque lake for any signs of her. She mentally started to tick off the seconds Brittany had been under water, continuing to shout her name, as her heart beat grew louder with each tick. Once she reached ten, Santana kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her robe, leaving her in her pleated skirt and button down shirt, before jumping into the water herself. She turned all about, searching for any sign of the preternatural girl, but it was even darker underwater than above, and she was forced to kick back to the surface to refill her lungs with air.
"Over there!" she heard Finn point out from him and Quinn's boat, and she followed his finger to the small set of waves and bubbles that were all rising from the same point some ten yards to her left. Santana quickly swam over and dove back under, finding Brittany struggling frantically, her robes tangling themselves around her limbs and weighing her down. Santana waved her arms to get the girl's attention, and Brittany looked up at her, blue eyes—bright even under water—gaping in fear.
Santana moved towards her, quickly working her fingers at the tiny knot that held her robes in place. She finally got it undone, and tore the robes away from around Brittany's shoulders, allowing the item of clothing to sink towards the bottom of the lake, before wrapping a strong arm around her and kicking towards the surface as hard as she could. She dared not think about the fact that Brittany had no longer been struggling the last few seconds before Santana freed her, or about how the smaller girl's head was now resting heavily on Santana's shoulder, air bubbles no longer coming from her mouth or nose. All she could think about was keeping a tight grip on the body next to her, and kicking harder than she had ever kicked in her life.
When they finally broke the surface, Santana gulped at the air greedily, her lungs screaming inside her chest. She re-secured her arm around Brittany while struggling to keep the both of them afloat by merely treading water—Brittany's body was dead weight in her arms; her eyes were closed, and her head was limp. Santana brought her free hand up, slapping Brittany's cheek repeatedly.
"Brittany, Brittany, wake up…Brittany, please, you have to wake up…Open your eyes, come on, please, open your eyes," Santana begged.
With a sputter, Brittany coughed up a lung full of lake water, her body jerking to life in Santana's arms and her eyes opening wide in alarm. It was at that moment that Santana decided blue was her new favorite color.
"It's ok…you're ok…" Santana assured with a sniff. The water dripping from her hair was causing her eyes to burn.
"Santana! Over here!" Finn called out.
Santana looked up to find Finn outstretching his long arm towards them from his boat, as Quinn held their boat for them along the side of her and Finn's own. She looked around and for the first time noticed the crowd of tiny boats that had gathered around them.
"Come on, Brittany," Santana readjusted her hold on her. "You need to help me swim to the boat."
She didn't get a verbal answer, but she could feel one of Brittany's legs brushing against her own every now and then as she kicked, helping to propel them towards Finn's hand. When they finally reached it, Santana reached out with her free arm, and Finn grabbed it, tugging them to the side of his boat. She grabbed onto the edge, after helping Brittany to do the same, and rested her head against the cool hull, catching her breath.
"Oh man, that was brilliant!" Finn cheered excitedly. "We saw Brittany fall in, and we didn't know what was going on, but then you just dove in right after her. Talk about guts."
Once Santana was finally able to somewhat control her breathing, she turned to the girl floating alongside her, realizing she had not uttered a single word since Santana pulled her above water. "Hey, are you okay?"
Brittany's eyes slowly moved back and forth as she took in their surroundings before she finally opened her mouth to speak, "Does this count as my bath for today?"
Santana closed her eyes, suddenly feeling dizzy with relief.
Finn chuckled as he reached down to grab Santana's arms to help pull her into the boat.
"Help her," Santana pushed him away. "I'm ok, just help her. She should sit."
Finn nodded as he took a step to the side and hauled Brittany into the boat before handing her over to Quinn who helped her carefully step across into their neglected boat that she was still holding for them.
Santana pulled herself up, allowing her body to fall over the side and into the boat, causing it to rock treacherously.
"I would've helped you," Finn noted, moving to help her sit up.
"A little late for your help," she replied, shrugging off his hand and slowly standing back up.
Quinn placed a gentle hand under her elbow, and Santana stepped across to her own boat.
"Are you okay?" Quinn asked, continuing to hold onto her elbow.
Santana smiled softly at the look of concern in the hazel eyes staring back at her, "Yea, I'm okay."
Quinn nodded and dropped her hand before sitting down back down as Finn pushed the two boats apart. He waved at them, and Santana rolled her eyes as she settled back into the tiny boat. She slipped her shoes back on and gathered up her robes before looking up to find Brittany shivering in the front seat.
"Hey," Santana said carefully.
Brittany looked back with a sheepish smile.
Santana held open her robes, and Brittany's smile widened as she slowly slid to the floor of the boat, meeting her in the middle. Santana opened her robes wide, draping them over both of their shoulders.
"You saved my life," Brittany finally spoke up after an initial silence.
"Don't worry about it," Santana replied, shivering, herself, despite the added warmth of the robes.
Brittany nodded, watching Santana closely before scooting even closer until their sides were pressed together.
Santana soon felt her side and then the rest of her body start to gradually warm up, and she struggled with words as she realized what the blonde had just done. Maybe the girl wasn't so clueless after all.
"Thanks," Santana mumbled after clearing her throat.
"Don't worry about it," Brittany smiled.
The group of young wizards stood gathered together in front of a set of enormous doors. Santana stood next to Brittany, still sharing her robe, the warmth of the castle no match for their wet clothes. The mere idea of the food that would no doubted be waiting for them on the other side of the doors was enough to make Santana's mouth water and stomach grumble.
"How much longer are we gonna have to wait here?" a boy with round cheeks complained from beside Brittany.
"I don't know, but any longer and your fat ass is going to start to look even more like bacon than it already does, Karofsky," a tan boy next to him replied.
"Shut up, Puckerman," Karofsky countered, shoving him with both of his hands. "Aren't you not supposed to eat pig, anyway?"
"Don't start with me," Puckerman shoved him back, but Karofsky remained rooted in his spot as if the smaller boy had never even touched him.
Karofsky laughed, pushing him again, causing him to stumble backwards, "Or what?"
"Whoa, whoa," Finn quickly stepped between the two, easily towering over both of them.
"Boys," an exasperated voice sighed from behind Santana, making her cringe. It was the miniature brunette. "One would think that they would want to be putting their best foot forward on their very first night at Hogwarts, but clearly the words 'think' and 'boys' should never be uttered in the same sentence. Am I right, girls?"
Quinn glanced back over her shoulder from the other side of Santana before leaning towards her friend, "Is this girl serious?"
Santana shrugged helplessly, before the sound of footsteps caused the pair of them to stand up straighter. A tall woman with long blonde hair made her way around the group of students to stand just in front of the set of doors. The overgrown man from before stopped a few paces short, clearly not wanting to take the lead of the group again. Santana glared at him; he was the reason she was currently cold, wet, and smelling like lake water.
The woman glanced at Santana and Brittany curiously before turning to the giant of a man, "What happened here, Howard?"
"They fell in," he shrugged.
"They fell in," she repeated, seeming to be waiting for more. When it was clear that his explanation would not be expanded upon, she turned back to the two girls with a smile. "Well, let's see what we can do about that, hmm?"
The woman pulled out her wand from inside her robes and the crowd of children buzzed with the excitement of seeing their first spell performed at Hogwarts. She didn't speak any words, but instead waved her wand in a seemingly carefree, yet complex manner. When her movements ceased and her wand pointed at Santana, a jet of hot air burst out of the tip, instantaneously drying her clothes as it passed over her. The woman moved her wand to Brittany next with the same result.
Santana had to remind herself to not get caught up with the energy of the crowd and let her jaw hang open in amazement. She was a witch, a pureblood witch that had grown up around magic her entire life. If people saw her geek out over something as simple as a hot-air charm, then they would think that she was just as clueless as the rest of them. She had to appear unfazed and collected. She had to appear not only as if she had seen that spell performed before—which she had—but as if she, herself, could perform it in her sleep. She had to appear knowledgeable, and she had to appear powerful, because like her mother told her, knowledge and power cause fear in others, and people follow you best when they are afraid.
The heavy creaking of the enormous doors being opened ripped Santana from her thoughts. She had completely missed the woman's speech she had given after helping them to dry off. She turned to Quinn to find her already a few steps ahead of her, head held high as she followed the woman into the great hall.
"Come on," Brittany urged excitedly, reaching back for Santana. "Professor Holiday said it's time to be sorted into our houses."
Santana took a couple hurried steps to catch up before realizing what she was doing. She immediately slowed down and straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She kept her eyes focused straight in front of her, so she wouldn't be tempted to grin stupidly at their surroundings like Finn Hudson was currently doing.
"What do you think they do about the bird poop?" Brittany asked curiously.
Santana turned to her in confusion to find her staring up at the ceiling in wonder. She looked up to find a beautiful view of the night sky where the ceiling of the great hall should have been, "That's actually a good question."
"It isn't the actual sky," the short brunette chuckled matter-of-factly. "It is only charmed to look like the sky. But of course, I am sure you two already knew that, assuming you have ready Hogwarts: A History."
Brittany's face fell into small frown.
Santana rounded on the nosey girl as the group came to a stop before the large table at the front of the hall, "Have you ever heard the riddle about if a tree falls in an empty forest, does it make a sound?"
"Yes, but of course it would still make a—" she began, but Santana cut her off.
"Well, here's another one for you. If I were to punch an annoying loud mouth, would anybody care?"
The girl quickly clamped her mouth shut as the people around them stifled their laughter.
Santana smiled smugly before turning back to find Brittany staring at the ceiling once more, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully.
"Was she being serious?" Brittany asked, disappointment lacing her voice. "Is it really not the real sky?"
Santana looked up at the ceiling, knowing that the short girl had been right and that she had been foolish to once again get caught up in the magic. Still, though, the way the stars twinkled brightly above them reminded her of the days when she was younger and her parents would take her to their house in the country for an escape from the city and from work and from all the hassles of everyday life. At night, after dinner, her father would take her outside where they would stretch out on a blanket, and he would point out pictures in the stars, telling her the stories behind each of them. They had not gone to the country in a few years, though, not since Santana's mother had deemed it time for her to stop running around outside and tumbling about in the soft grass—even if she were only allowed to do so when they were out in the country, far away from prying eyes—and start acting like the proper young lady their money and titles entailed she be.
"It looks real to me," Santana replied honestly, yet without actually answering the question. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see Brittany's face light up with a wide smile.
"It's beautiful…" she whispered.
Santana nodded in agreement as she stared up at the stars twinkling above them, trying to remember some of the constellations her father had taught her. An expecting quiet fell over the Grand Hall, and Santana's eyes fell forward as the blonde woman from earlier placed a stool adorned with a raggedy looking witches hat before the group of first years. The hat wiggled, a layer of dust escaping puffing outwards from the surface as a large seam at the brim of the hat opened, revealing a mouth.
The Sorting Hat, Santana drew in a deep breath, standing up taller. This was it. This was the moment her parents had been preparing her for. It was time for her to step up and take her rightful place into the Slytherin House. Her jaw tightened as her mind ran over all the properties her mother had preached: honor, power, strength, and most importantly, blood. Her blood. She was a legacy. Her parents were Slytherin. Their parents were Slytherin. Their parents were Slytherin. There was not a single Lopez or Black—her mother's family name—that had entered the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who hadn't been sorted into the Slytherin House, at least not one who hadn't been disowned.
Santana's eyes narrowed as they took in the weathered hat that sat tattered and torn on the simple wooden stool, the hat's brim opening and closing quickly as it spoke words that weren't reaching her ears, her mind too full of its own thoughts to comprehend anything else. Her mouth's edges dropped into a scowl as her gaze moved across its frayed seams. What could a hat, a simple collection of material and thread, have done to make it so important, to make its word so consummate as to hold the ability to either catapult or ruin everything not just Santana, but her entire family had been working towards long before she was even born, with a single word? Who in their right mind had given this poorly sewn—
"Abrams, Artie," Professor Holiday's voice rang out loud and clear, causing Santana to blink several times in order for her head to escape its thoughts and catch up to the present: the sorting ceremony. She must have completely missed the Sorting Hat's song during her reverie, as they were now moving on to the actual sorting itself.
The small crowd of first years moved about to allow the poor kid whose name had come first in the alphabet through. Beside her, Brittany drew in a gasp and stepped closer to Santana's side.
"I didn't know they let robots in here," Brittany whispered, her voice shaky with fear.
Santana's eyes darted to the front of the crowd where a tiny bespectacled boy was coming to a halt in his wheelchair. He eyed the steps before him that led up to the stool where the Sorting Hat lay wearily.
"I guess we'll just have to come to you," Professor Holiday chuckled, as she picked the stool back up and carried it down the stairs. She placed the stool back down and lifted the Sorting Hat up, placing it on the young boy's dark hair, nearly knocking off his thick glasses.
The hat's mouth pursed and garbled before its voice rang out strong and sure, loud enough for the entire Grand Hall, and perhaps even the entire grounds to hear, "Ravenclaw!"
The boy beamed at the loud applause that waited for him as he wheeled his way towards his new table.
Professor Holiday brought the stool back up to its original spot and read the next name off of the list of first years, "Berry, Rachel."
"Present," an annoying voice piped up, as the grating brunette from earlier pushed her way to the front of the hall, sitting proudly on top of the stool. She glanced up at Professor Holiday expectantly. "Well…"
"Okay then," Professor Holiday gave a confused nod before placing the Sorting Hat on the girl's head.
Rachel's eyes immediately screwed up tightly closed in concentration, her mouth moving as if she were whispering some sort of silent mantra.
"Slytherin!"
"Oh bloody hell," Santana groaned loudly, as Rachel shook off the brief moment of confusion that passed over her features after the name of her new home for the next seven years had been announced and replaced it with a beaming smile as she raced towards the Slytherin table excitedly.
"Good luck with that," Quinn nearly laughed out loud in a very un-Quinn-like fashion.
"I already have plans to stuff a sock in her mouth and a pillow over her nose while she sleeps," Santana grumbled.
"I have duct tape you can borrow," Brittany offered. "No use wasting a good pair of socks."
Santana snorted out a giggle as Quinn gave Brittany a look of appraisal.
Next a 'Chang, Mike' and a 'Cohen-Chang, Tina'—no relation—were both sorted into Ravenclaw.
"Because that isn't racist at all…" Puckerman noted under his breath from behind Quinn.
"Fabray, Quinn," Professor Holiday called out, and Santana felt the taller of the two blondes flanking her freeze.
Santana swallowed, having the urge to reach out and offer her something, an encouraging word, a comforting squeeze of the arm, something, but she knew she couldn't. Any offer of advocacy would just seem like a weakness on Quinn's part, and she knew that Quinn would never forgive her for making her look weak because Santana would do the same if their roles were reversed. There was never a time for public weakness in one's fight for power.
Quinn straightened up, a cool exterior quickly sliding across her visage as she walked up towards the stool. She carefully turned and sat down with as much etiquette as possible as the long robes and tall stool allowed. The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and Quinn drew in a deep breath.
Santana struggled inwardly with deciding between admiration and jealousy for a way to feel towards the calm way Quinn was currently sitting before everyone as the Sorting Hat decided her fate.
"What do you think she's thinking about?" Brittany whispered beside her.
"Thinking about?" Santana asked.
"Yea, she is stressing over something."
"Quinn Fabray? Stressing? Are you blind?"
"Are you?" Brittany retorted. "The corners of her eyes and mouth are tense. The wrinkles on the inside of her eyebrows aren't normally found on someone our age, and weren't there a moment ago which means she's concentrating."
Santana's mouth opened in surprise. How could someone who had only known Quinn for an afternoon been able to see right through her façade, even more so than she, herself, had been able to when she had known Quinn for her entire childhood? She was almost in enough of a shock to miss the house name that was being shouted from the hat's lips. Almost.
"Slytherin!"
While Santana had completely missed the inner turmoil Quinn had been going through moments prior, she was sure she would never forget the look of pure terror that flashed in her friend's eyes in the brief second before she was able to collect herself and re-gather her façade from seconds before. Santana felt sick. She was sure she was going to throw up. It didn't make any sense. If someone like Quinn Fabray, who appeared to be the person Godric Gryffindor, himself, had modeled his house after, could be sorted into the wrong house, then how was she supposed to hope to be sorted into the correct one?
Santana felt her heart start to pound inside of her chest. The sound of it filled her ears completely, drowning out the sound of Hudson, Finn being sorted into Hufflepuff while Hummel, Kurt became the first to be sorted into Gryffindor, unknowingly taking Quinn's rightful place at the table that lay beneath banners of red and gold. A Ben Israel, Jacob was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Santana resurfaced from her thoughts just in time to see Jones, Mercedes—the boisterous girl from the lake—being sorted into Gryffindor. Karofsky, David was sorted into Slytherin, and Santana wondered if anyone had ever actually thrown up during the sorting ceremony before.
"Lopez, Santana," Professor Holiday's voice caused Santana's stomach to lurch.
"Don't worry," Brittany clasped her hand tightly for the briefest of seconds. "I'm not sure how you win this thing, but I am sure you'll totally be the best at it."
Santana nodded as she straightened herself up and made her way towards the simple wooden stool that sat in front of the entire Grand Hall. It took everything in her power not to let her knees buckle as she climbed up towards Professor Holiday's patient smile, step by step. Santana took in a slow breath, her eyes stealing as she turned and sat down on the stool, the look of total poise in front of her entire student body. The worn out hat was placed atop her head, and Santana's jaw clenched as her driving thoughts took over before the hat could even utter a single sound.
Slytherin, it has to be Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Please, God, make it Slytherin. It can't be anything else. It has to be Slytherin, Santana thought to herself.
To say you lot are an opinionated bunch would be the understatement of the century, the Sorting Hat's voice echoed throughout her mind.
Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin, Santana repeated to herself over and over again, unable to even try to think in complete sentences anymore. She had never been more afraid in her entire life than she was in that moment, and all she could think of was the single word that would make all that fear go away.
Are you sure? Because, I actually think that—
Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin.
Alright then, better be…"Slytherin!"
The house to Santana's far right erupted in its loudest applause of the night, and Santana felt the fear completely wash away, replaced by her normal countenance of confidence. She shrugged, offering a smirk to the remaining first years gathered in front of her as she hopped off of the stool and made her way as casually as she could over to the Slytherin table while on the inside, she was really dying to run towards it, screaming at the top of her lungs in happiness.
By the time she sat down and a kid with the first name of Azimio and a last name that she didn't catch had also been sorted into Slytherin, Santana couldn't even remember what she had been so afraid of in the first place. She was a Lopez, after all, and a Lopez would not be a Lopez without being sorted into Slytherin. She looked up from the empty golden plate before her as her stomach growled in hunger, completely void of any signs of nausea now that she was sorted into her rightful house, and she was reminded as to why she had been so nervous when the sight of Quinn sitting across from her at the Slytherin table greeted her. Santana's jaw tensed with all the words she wanted to say, but once again, knew she couldn't.
Despite her rigidly straight spine and her expressionless face, Santana could tell the other girl was currently going through hell. Her fair complexion had bypassed pale and was bordering on blanched, and the look of fear from before had left its trail in her clear, hazel eyes.
"You know," Rachel's voice started up from beside Santana. "I had always pictured myself as a Brave Gryffindor, or even a Wise Ravenclaw, but when I told the hat just how badly I wanted to be a star and how I was willing to stop at nothing until my stardom was reached, it seemed dead certain that Slytherin was the place for me. And if this is the place that is going to help me make it, then I am so excited to be that much closer to achieving my dream now that I am here."
Professor Holiday's voice reciting, "Pierce, Brittany" was the only thing that kept Santana from drop kicking Rachel right then and there. Instead, Santana sat up straighter, her head turning curiously as she watched the agile blonde skip up the steps before turning and jumping onto the stool in one fluid motion. The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and it fell down, over her ears, nearly engulfing her entire head. Professor Holiday adjusted it for her, and Brittany just gave a lopsided grin in reply before mouth twisted in concentration as her eyes closed and her nose scrunched.
Santana's head tilted as time passed, and the hat remained silent. Next to her, the boy named Karofsky coughed and scratched his arm as a fidgety silence filled the hall. More time passed, and Professor Holiday squatted down so that she was eye level with Brittany, whispering something. Brittany opened one eye, nodded her head in reply, and reclosed her eye.
"Has a sorting ever lasted this long?" Rachel whispered to the upperclassmen seated down the table.
"Not as long as I've been here," a blonde boy shook his head. "And I'm a fifth year."
"Odd," Rachel muttered. "Ow!"
Several heads turned their way as Santana drew her elbow away from Rachel's ribcage and back towards her own side. "Sorry," Santana smirked at her. "Tourette's."
Rachel frowned, rubbing her side.
Santana turned back to the sorting just in time to see the hat's mouth opening wide, shouting, "Gryffindor!"
Brittany sat on the chair, looking over at the Slytherin table in confusion before shrugging and hopping down, making her way over to the applauding students of Gryffindor.
"Looks like you have to find yourself a new, new best friend," Quinn muttered from across the table.
Santana shrugged despite the sinking feeling in her stomach, "It was interesting while it lasted."
"A real hoot an' holler," Quinn rolled her eyes.
Santana resisted the urge to kick her beneath the table because she could only imagine what all was going through Quinn's mind. The thought of having to write home and tell her parents she had been sorted into a house other than Slytherin, and not just any house, but Slytherin's very rival, was enough to make Santana want to throw up right there on the Slytherin table in front of the entire school. She tried her best to keep the sympathetic look she felt creeping up away as she watched Quinn sit with her hands clasped and her eyes downcast, her bottom lip worrying through her teeth, clearly lost in thought, but Santana knew she wasn't doing a very good job at it. More children were sorted. Puckerman, Noah joined Finn in Hufflepuff. A round boy who tripped walking up the stairs made his way into Gryffindor along with Rutherford, Matt. A set of twins, one boy and one girl, were sorted into Hufflepuff. And eventually a Zises, Lauren was sorted into Slytherin, finishing off the class of first years.
"Now can we eat?" Karofsky grumbled.
The only thing that kept Santana from throwing an elbow his way as well was the fact that her own stomach was rumbling with hunger. A middle-aged Indian man stood up from the head table at the front of the room and made his way over to a podium that Santana hadn't even noticed was there.
"Oh, that must be Headmaster Figgins," Rachel straightened up excitedly. "I bet he is going to give the start of the year speech, now."
"And the award for the most obvious realization goes to…" Santana sighed, and the students sitting nearby giggled. She propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand as Professor Figgins monotonous voice lulled a good portion of the student body to sleep. Santana couldn't be bothered with Professor Figgins and his speech, and she allowed her mind to wander, dreaming up all the possible varieties of food that awaited them in the kitchens. She hoped there would be pie.
A swift kick under the table caused Santana to jerk upright, "What…what's going on?"
"You were drooling," Quinn whispered, frowning at her.
"So? If he doesn't hurry this speech up, I am going to have to go all Hannibal Lecter on this place, and doughboy next to me is going to be the first to go."
"I don't know if you realize this," Quinn leaned towards her over the table. "But the he that you are referring to is our Headmaster, so I suggest you pay attention to what he has to say because it is no doubt going to prove very beneficial in the future."
Santana rolled her eyes and rested her chin back in her hand. Headmaster Figgins, what a joke. Her mother had told her all about him. He wasn't headmaster when her parents had attended Hogwarts, but she knew of him from her friends that had children that attended school under him, and the man was nothing but a pushover.
"And finally…" Professor Figgins droled on.
Santana tuned her ears in at the sound of a nearby end to the speech.
"Mr. Schuester, our caretaker," Professor Figgins motioned to the back of the hall where a man with curly hair and sweater vest stood smiling at the students, "has asked me to remind you all that a list of forbidden items is pinned up on each house's bulletin board and that if he catches you with any of the items, he will confiscate them. Also, he has asked me to warn that any student caught vandalizing the sign-up sheets for our Glee Club that he has also put up in each common room will be given detention and have house points deducted."
Santana glanced back at Mr. Schuester who was still smiling at the students though they were no longer looking at him, "Creep."
"A glee club?" Rachel drew in an excited breath. "Oh, I can't wait to join. I know what you all are thinking, that I may be a little young to hope for any sort of solo, but I will have you know that I can in first in the Little—"
"Newsflash," Quinn interrupted from across the table. "Nobody cares. Nobody cares about you, and nobody cares about some dumb little glee club."
Rachel closed her mouth, swallowing loudly.
Santana tilted her head, studying her friend closely, trying to decide whether or not Quinn had recovered from her meltdown and was back to her normal icy ways, or she was just taking it out on the easiest target.
"And without any further ado," Professor Figgins gave a wave of his hand and platter upon platter of food appeared on the rows of tables. "Let's eat."
"Gracias a Dios," Santana muttered as she began to shovel steak and kidney pie onto her plate.