Chapter 2: Ambition
Luke could hardly contain his excitement as he and his fellow first years waited in the small room where Professor McGonagall told them to stay until the Sorting Ceremony started. The rest of the students looked pale and jittery, even Draco. Hermione Granger was currently recounting all the spells she had read about, wondering nervously if they'd be enough for the 'test'. Luke, on the other hand, was absolutely thrilled. Not even talk about having to wrestle a troll in order to be sorted fazed him. If anything, it made him anticipate the ceremony even more.
This was exactly what he had been dreaming of. The place was practically buzzing with magic and secrets, waiting to be unlocked by him.
Of course, Camp Half-Blood had also been awesome, but it just didn't hold any surprises for him anymore. But Hogwarts… Hogwarts was a new and exciting experience and Luke was determined to make the most of it.
He glanced towards Draco. He had to admit, the black-haired boy didn't look very heroic. To be frank, Luke thought he was kind of a jerk. But he was prepared to give him a second chance to impress him. If he really was the child the Great Prophecy talked about...
Some gasps and screams attracted his attention and he turned to see what this was all about. He almost started jumping up and down with glee when he saw the two pearly white figures gliding inside the room and talking amongst themselves about someone named Peeves. Luke noticed that Draco also looked fascinated rather than terrified of the slightly transparent figures. Morty, who had followed his master across the lake – for the simple reason that no one dared keeping the scary dog away from his master – looked excited as well, as he started wiggling his tail.
Suddenly the two ghosts noticed the surprised and nervous first years in the room. Their attention quickly shifted to Draco. The ghosts suddenly bowed deeply to the fascinated and puzzled boy.
"Ghost King!" exclaimed the fat one.
"What an honor to meet you!" said the other one.
Everybody was looking at the black-haired boy with confusion. Draco looked a bit bewildered as well, but smiled at the two floating figures, looking very pleased with his welcome. Luke grinned as well.
At least now I know I didn't approach the wrong person, he thought. Though the hellhound should have been an adequate sign.
Before Draco could say anything to the ghosts, McGonagall returned and led them to the Great Hall.
Luke gasped. The hall was huge. There were five long tables inside, four for the students and one for the staff, and they were all laid with gold plates. The hall was lit with floating candles. But the most extraordinary thing about the place was the ceiling.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Hermione whispered to him. "I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
"This is awesome," he said in a quiet voice.
McGonagall placed a stool and an ancient ragged hat in front of the assembled first years. Luke wasn't all that surprised when the hat started singing.
After it introduced itself as the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts and then recounted the virtues each house valued most, the Sorting Ceremony started with McGonagall calling out the first name on her list.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
After a moment, the hat sorted her in Hufflepuff.
As the students whose last name started with B followed Hannah Abbott, Luke started wondering where he would be sorted. The obvious answer was Gryffindor. But Draco had been certain he would be sorted in Slytherin like his parents and Luke had to make sure they were in the same house so that he could keep an eye on him.
But then again, Draco didn't look very confident at the moment. He was even paler than before and his body was very stiff, like he was trying not to start shaking. Morty was nuzzling his hand to comfort him. Luke thought about saying something reassuring when suddenly McGonagall called his name.
"Castellan, Luke!"
Luke gave one final smile to Draco and Hermione and went to sit on the stool. He put on the hat, which fell to his ears and covered his eyes.
"Hmm…" he heard a voice in his ear. "Interesting…"
I am very interesting person, that's true, thought Luke.
The Sorting Hat chuckled. "That you are, my boy. But where to put you? Obviously not Ravenclaw – there isn't much thirst for knowledge."
Nope, agreed Luke.
"Hufflepuff can also be excluded. You are not very hard-working and your loyalties can shift easily if you're given a reason to doubt."
Hey!
"But here comes the hard part. It seems to me you possess Gryffindor's and Slytherin's virtues equally."
Wait, what?
"You are quite brave, that much is obvious. And heroic, too, if you find something worth fighting for. But you are also very cunning."
Can't argue with that.
"However, the key factor here seems to be ambition."
What do you mean? I'm not ambitious!
"My dear boy, rarely have I seen such ambition in a young child. I think the last time I faced something like this was when a student named Tom Riddle placed me on his head."
So?
"That boy took the name Lord Voldemort when he grew up."
Luke gulped.
"No, my boy, you are very ambitious. You are planning to be the greatest hero of all time, aren't you?"
Is that a bad thing?
"It's not a question of good and bad. That is a great ambition. Especially when it conflicts with your quest. Wasn't your new friend prophecised to be the greatest hero?"
I hate prophecies.
"I know. That's why you wish to see him fail – to prove that the Fates are wrong. And that, my dear boy is an ambition not even Tom Riddle possessed. For he never even dreamed to contradict the Fates. Escape fate? Yes. Maybe manipulating it a little? Certainly. But never discard fate completely."
That's- You're wrong! I don't want to see Draco fail!
"I can read your mind, dear child. You have no reason to lie to me. You want to be the one who saves the world. And if that were to fail… would you then consider to become the greatest villain of all time, too?"
Luke found himself incapable of forming thoughts that actually made sense. His brain had turned into goo.
"I think it's pretty obvious where you belong now, isn't it?"
And before Luke could object again, the hat shouted loudly: "SLYTHERIN!"
He took the hat off with shaking hands and got on his feet. With wobbly knees he walked towards an empty seat at the Slytherin table. He barely registered the cheers and the friendly pats on the back he received from his new housemates. The hat's words still echoed in his mind, alternating with some of his mother's, during some of her weird fits.
"Wasn't your new friend prophecised to be the greatest hero?"
"The blade of a friend!"
"That's why you wish to see him fail – to prove that the Fates are wrong."
"Terrible fate! Not my son, not this fate!"
"The last time I faced something like this was when a student named Tom Riddle placed me on his head."
"Evil! Golden eyes!"
"Would you then consider to become the greatest villain of all time, too?"
"You alright, pal?"
Luke looked up, startled. He saw an older student, probably a prefect, looking at him with a frown.
"Um, yeah." He forced a smile. "Just a little nervous."
He realized Crabbe and Goyle were now seated near him at the table. He looked at the first years who were still waiting to be sorted and saw Draco still there. At the moment, it was Hermione Granger that was sitting on the stool with the hat covering her eyes and forehead.
It took the Sorting Hat a couple of minutes to make a decision, which Luke thought was weird. The girl was obviously a Ravenclaw.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat and Luke blinked, surprised.
Wow. Who would have thought?
For some reason, the round-faced boy that had been hiding behind Hermione when she entered Potter's compartment at the train was sorted in Gryffindor as well.
He and Hermione managed to get sorted in Gryffindor and I didn't. Should I be worried?
Taking into account the hat's words, definitely.
"Malfoy, Draco!" called McGonagall.
Draco, even though he was paler than death, walked up to the stool proudly, holding his chin up. He put on the hat and waited.
Luke was watching nervously. What if he was sorted in a different house? How would he be able to keep an eye on him like Chiron told him to?
Almost five minutes passed before the hat shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"
Luke sighed in relief. Draco walked towards their table with Morty on his tail wearing a pleased smile, though Luke could see he still looked pale and a little troubled. He wondered whether the hat had told him that he was as ambitious as Voldemort, too.
The black-haired boy sat next to him. Luke expected him to say something about the sorting. Instead, he seemed determined to turn his attention elsewhere.
"I'm hungry. When are we going to eat?"
"Why did the hat take so long to sort you?" asked Luke, ignoring Draco's words.
"Why did the hat take so long to sort you?" the boy shot back.
Luke nodded. "Fair enough."
The sorting continued the same as before, until Harry Potter's name was called.
Several people gasped. As soon as the boy put on the hat, the whispering started.
Draco scoffed. "Thank Merlin that freak is not going to be sorted in Slytherin."
"How do you know?" asked Luke.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Did he give you the impression he could be a Slytherin?"
"No, not really," Luke admitted. "But why wouldn't you want him to be in Slytherin? It's not his fault that red-head attacked your parents."
"He's a freak," said Draco, sighing in relief when the hat called "GRYFFINDOR!"
Luke frowned. "He looks pretty normal to me."
"Trust me, there's something wrong with him." He shivered. "And the same goes for that guy."
He turned towards the High Table to see where Draco was pointing. There he saw a fidgety man with a weird purple turban.
He looked back at Draco, confused. "Are you sure you don't mean that creepy guy with the black hair?"
The boy shook his head. "That's Snape. He's a family friend."
"Of course he is." Luke rolled his eyes. Draco glared at him. "Sorry, I just don't see it. They both are weird, but definitely not… you know. Something to worry about."
"I'm right, you'll see," said Draco stubbornly.
Luke sighed. He turned his attention to the High Table, as the sorting had ended in the meantime and now the headmaster was standing up, smiling benevolently to the students.
"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
Luke chuckled. "You were right, Draco, he's a nutter."
But the crazy headmaster was driven out of his mind when he saw the food that had just appeared in front of him. He dug in like he hadn't eaten for days. Meanwhile, Draco was scolding Morty to make him stop attacking the sausages. He did pass him a few under the table though.
When Luke finally felt ready to burst from all the food, he looked up from his plate. At that moment, a ghost with bloody robes and chains settled himself at the seat opposite Draco.
"My king," he said in a serious, almost reverent voice. "I came to congratulate you on your sorting and tell you that, if you need anything, I am at your service."
Draco looked a little flustered but, when he saw everybody staring at him, he took a smug expression.
"Thank you, I shall bear that in mind."
"Why do all the ghosts call you their king?" asked another first year, seated a little further away.
"Apparently, Hogwarts ghosts know their place better than you, Nott," snapped Draco.
"Or maybe you're so pale, they think you're dead, too," suggested Luke.
Nott snickered. "Good one- What's your name again?"
"Luke Castellan."
"Castellan?" asked a dark skinned boy, also a first year. "Like-"
"Like May Castellan, the famous Seer?" Luke finished his sentence in a weary voice. "Yes, she's my mom."
"Hmm…" said the boy with interest. "I'm Blaise Zabini."
"Nice to meet you."
"Has your mother made predictions in front of you?" asked Nott curiously.
An image of his mother with wild glowing green eyes flashed in front of his eyes.
"Terrible fate! Not my son, not this fate!"
"Evil! Golden eyes!"
"Sometimes," he said simply.
"Wicked!"
"What about your father?" asked Zabini.
"What about him?"
"Is he a wizard?"
"No."
Zabini's lip curled with distaste.
"You mean you live with a Muggle?" said Nott, disgusted.
"My father doesn't live with me," said Luke, not bothering to tell him that his father wasn't a Muggle. He figured he would sound crazy if he said his father was a god.
"He abandoned you?" asked Zabini.
"Well, not exactly… It's not like he and my mother ever got married. And he visits very often to check on my mom."
"That's good," said Zabini. "Even if you're a half-blood, at least you were raised like a wizard."
"Yeah, right," said Luke, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate on how exactly he was raised.
Thank the gods, the food chose that moment to disappear and everyone's attention turned towards the High Table as Dumbledore stood up.
"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils."
"Are there monsters in the forest?" Luke asked the older Slytherins with hope. He was thinking about the creatures in the forest back at camp, where they played capture the flag.
"Oh, there are all kinds of magical beasts in the Forbidden Forest," said a fifth year girl.
"Cool!"
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors," continued Dumbledore. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Luke's eyes glinted mischievously. "We should definitely check that corridor out!" he whispered to Draco.
"What? Didn't you just hear what he said about a very painful death?"
He scoffed. "No wonder the hat didn't put you in Gryffindor."
Luke expected some sort of retort. Instead, Draco quickly turned to look at Dumbledore again – but not before he could catch the nervous and troubled expression on his face.
Luke was stunned. Was it possible that the hat had offered to put Draco in Gryffindor?
After singing the school song, Dumbledore finally dismissed them. Luke and Draco sleepily followed the Slytherin prefect along with the other first years. They went down a few flights of stairs and then reached a dead-end.
"Pure blood," said the prefect to the bare wall and an invisible door opened on the wall.
They followed the prefect inside the common room. It was a long bleak room with stone walls. There were sofas and high-backed armchairs all around and a fireplace with a crackling fire burning pleasantly. Apart from the fire, the room was also illuminated by green lamps hanging with chains from the ceiling. The eerie green light suddenly reminded him of the green smoke of the Oracle and sent shivers down Luke's spine.
"Are you alright?" asked Draco frowning.
"A cunning ploy shall seal your fate…" the Oracle's words came unbidden to his mind.
"I'm fine."
The first year boys went to their dormitories and found their belongings waiting for them. Luke wearily changed into his pajamas and slid inside his warm bed, hoping that maybe tonight he wouldn't get nightmares about green eyes and ominous words spoken by shriveled mummies…
A/N:
In case anyone's wondering, the 'black-haired boy' is Draco. I changed the color of his hair because of… well, genetics.
I don't think there's any need to clarify who Draco's real father is. I think it's pretty obvious. ;)
Thanks for reading. I'll be updating soon.
