What's this? Two chapters in two days? What kind of madness? Don't get to used to it, though. I happened to be on a bit of a writing spree and had the day off from school so I decided to upload another chapter. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: The majority of characters and majority of the plotline belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.
Chapter 2: The Feast
Ron just began to take Emma through the finer point of quidditch, a sport sounding a little bit like basketball albeit while flying when the compartment door slid open another time. But it wasn't Neville nor Hermione. Instead, three boys sauntered in, one pale boy with bleach white hair and two large, beefy boys with stocks of brown hair.
"Is it true?" the pale one said. "They're saying all up and down the train that Emma Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" His eyes landed on Emma.
"Wow, you can tell a girl from a boy," Emma drawled. "Congrats."
The boy didn't seem fazed as he continued to stare at Emma like she was some sort of anomaly. "This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said, pointing to his two bodyguards. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco, Malfoy."
"Just a heads up," Emma said as Ron broke out laughing, "saying your last name first doesn't make you sound cool. Just more like a douche."
This time, the boy's pale cheeks seemed to flush slightly. He chose to ignore Emma's comment and instead turned towards Ron.
"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask yours. My father said that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children they can afford." Ron looked like he was about to deck Malfoy, but Emma sent him a warning look.
"You'll soon learn, Potter," Malfoy said, turning back towards Emma, "that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." His eyes flickered towards Ron before returning to Emma. "I can help you there."
He held out his hand as if Emma was going to take it to shake.
Emma considered his hand for a moment, Ron quietly staring before she stood up and faced Malfoy.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, especially when I'm staring at you," Emma said, her voice cool.
The flush in Malfoys cheeks intensified as he responded slowly, "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riff-raff like Hagrid and the Weasleys, it'll rub off on you."
Emma and Ron both shot to their feet, but Emma got their first, a loud crack sounding as Emma's hand made contact with Malfoy's face.
"Don't you dare talk about my parents like that," she seethed, mildly pleased by the red hand mark now marring Malfoy's face.
With one last seething look, Malfoy turned and ran out of the compartment. Leaving Emma and Ron alone once again.
"That was amazing," Ron said, admiration clear on his face. Emma's hand was stinging, but the sensation of slapping Malfoy left a warm feeling in her gut.
The feeling evaporated as the door slid open once more, and Hermione Granger became visible in the door once more.
"What has been going on here?" she said, looking between Emma and Ron.
"I've heard of Malfoy's family before," Ron said to Emma. "They were some of the first to come back over to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. Said that Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side."
"What a jerk," Emma pitched in. "Can we help you with something?" she asked Hermione, turning towards the girl.
"You'd better put your robes on," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I've just been up to the front of the train and the conductor said we should be arriving soon. You haven't been fighting, have you? You're going to get into trouble before we even get to school."
"Like it's any of your business," Ron said before Emma could answer. "Now would you mind leaving while we change?"
"Fine. I only came in here because people are acting very childishly out there, racing up and down the corridors. But it doesn't seem to be any different here," she said in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know?'
Ron left the compartment first, allowing Emma to change into her thick tights and uniform before they switched and Ron changed.
Emma stood in the corridor, trying to ignore the stares and muttering that seemed to be coming from everyone. It seemed like a lifetime before Ron opened the door again and Emma gratefully entered, taking her seat once more.
The train came to a jolting stop in no time, causing Emma's stomach to lurch with nerves. They were finally here.
Abandoning their trunks, Emma and Ron made their way out of the compartment and into the corridor full of buzzing students.
Emma once again cursed the short skirt that girls were forced to wear. The frosty wind on the platform chilled Emma to the bone, and she shivered involuntarily, causing Ron to laugh.
"Oh shut it," Emma growled. "You get pants and I don't."
"Perks of being a boy," Ron joked, poking Emma lightly.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Emma?"
Hagrid came into view over the heads of the crowd, swinging a lantern.
"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!"
Hagrid led them down a slippery slope. It was so dark on either side that you couldn't see left to right. The only reason that Emma knew Ron was still next to her was the fluent stream of curses he let out as he attempted not to slip as they walked. Other than that, it was practically silent. Neville sniffed once or twice from somewhere in front of Emma.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called from the front of the pack. "Jus' round the bend here."
Everyone let out an "Oooooh!" as the path opened up to expose a great black lake. Perched on a mountain across it was a large castle, windows sparkling like stars. The architecture was so intricate that Emma felt her eyes widen.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing towards a little fleet of boats docked at the edge of the lake.
Ron and Emma shoved into one with two boys who introduced themselves as Dean and Seamus.
"Everyone in?" Hagrid shouted. "Right then- FORWARD!"
The boats began to move slowly across the lake, leaving ripples in their wake.
"Rumor has it that there's a giant squid in the lake," Seamus said. He had a thick accent that Emma thought was Irish but she couldn't be sure.
"That sounds fake," Dean replied, rolling his eyes. "There's no such thing as a giant squid.
"Wanna bet on that?" Seamus asked.
"I wouldn't," Emma said, laughing. "I have a feeling you'll lose."
The boats bumped lightly to the shore and the kids clambered out, once again following Hagrid up a winding path. Emma stuck with Ron, Seamus, and Dean, avoiding Hermione and Malfoy at all costs.
When they reached the end of the path, Hagrid raised his large hand and knocked on the door.
A stern looking witch with gray hair pulled into a tight bun opened the door. She looked like Emma's Year 5 English teacher, Mrs. Hue. Mrs. Hue hated Emma.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here." Professor McGonagall stepped aside and Hagrid lumbered past, leaving the first years alone with McGonagall.
Without a word, McGonagall turned and walked back into the castle. The first years exchanged weary glances but followed her silently. They passed a large room full of kids sitting at four long tables and went to a small room off to the side where they piled in. The room was cramped and the first years stood shoulder to shoulder.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, shutting the door and coming in herself. "In a moment, you will be joining your peers at the house tables, but first you must be sorted. While you are here, your house will be like your family. You will eat meals together, share dorms, got to classes together. Any achievements will earn you house points and any rule-breaking will lose you them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup, a great honor.
"The sorting ceremony will begin in a moment. You may want to smarten yourself up before we go," McGonagall finished. She glanced at a few first years in particular, including Ron who's ear turned red, before leaving them alone in the room.
"How exactly does the sorting process go?" Emma whispered to Ron.
"Fred told me it involved fighting a troll," Ron whispered back, fear laced in his voice.
"Well Fred's a twat," Emma said. "They wouldn't have us fight a troll in the middle of a hall of students."
"Maybe it's in a separate hall," Ron tried to reason.
"I heard me mum telling dad it was some sort of written test," Seamus said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"That sounds highly more likely," Emma said, causing Ron to roll his eyes.
"What if it's dangerous?" came another voice from somewhere in the crowd.
"How bad can it be?" Emma tried to reason, but her stomach was turning. It could be really bad. What if she didn't fit into any house. She didn't feel brave or cunning or smart or loyal right now. All she felt was a faint need to throw up. Emma pulled her robes tighter around herself, wishing she could just dissolve into them and never have to do anything again.
"You alright?" Ron asked, casting her a concerned glance.
"Could be better," Emma responded, willing her voice to steady. There was no reason for her to freak out. It only was going to make things worse.
"Form a line," came McGonagall's strict voice. "Let's go, the sorting is about to begin."
Emma paled even further but got into line between Ron and Seamus. The first years followed McGonagall, stumbling into the hall.
The great hall wasn't like anything Emma had ever seen before. The ceiling seemed to reflect the outside, a completely cloudless night with a bright moon. In the far corner were four large hourglasses, each with different colored gems; one blue, one red, one green, and one yellow. The tables had glittering gold plates and cups lining them, and each student was seated in front of a pair. The students seemed to be seated by house, each table with a different colored tie and trim inside their robes. Emma couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to some of the older students. They all seemed so… big.
Professor McGonagall led them to the far side of the hall where there was a fifth table, this one with teachers sat at it. A small, three-legged stool sat on the floor right above a pair of steps, a hat seated on top of it. The entire hall seemed to be staring at the hat, so Emma fixed her own eyes on it. The hat had a certain worn feeling to it. Its brown color was faded and there were patches on it as if it had been used over and over.
Do we have to battle a hat? Emma thought to herself, before shaking a way that thought. Why would a wizard school have them do battle with a worn hat? It made sense. More likely-
Emma jumped with surprise as a rip appeared in the brim of the hat. "What the he-" she began to mutter as the hat began to sing.
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
but don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
a smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black
your top hats sleek and tall,
for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,
and I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
the sorting hat can't see,
so try me on and I will tell you
where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor
where dwell the brave at heart,
their daring, nerve, and chivalry
set Gryffindor apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff
where they are just and loyal,
those patient Hufflepuffs are true
and unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw
if you've a ready mind,
where those of wit and learning
will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
you'll make your real friends,
those cunning folk use any means
to achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
for I'm a thinking cap!"
The hall erupted into cheers as if what the hat had just sung was a marvel. Emma was to busy being relieved to clap. All they had to do was try on a hat. That was the easiest test ever to exist. Trying on a hat was something she could do.
It felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders, and Emma felt a weak smile appear on her lips.
"I'm going to kill Fred," Ron whispered. "He was going on about wrestling a troll."
Emma laughed lightly. "I'll help you do it," she replied.
"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall called, holding a long piece of parchment, "please step forward and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hanah!"
Emma watched as a girl with pigtails stumbled forward and had the hat placed on her head.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat after a moment's pause.
"Bones, Susan," was also a Hufflepuff but "Boot, Terry," became the first Ravenclaw.
Ron seemed to have zoned out completely, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. Seamus was fiddling with some sort of contraption that Dean was eyeing warily.
Seamus got sorted into Gryffindor, followed closely by Hermione Granger. Ron's groan was audible as Hermione scuttled off to the Gryffindor table.
"I don't want to be in her house," he whined.
"Well you might not be," Emma whispered back, but that only seemed to sour Ron's mood.
The hat barely touched the head of Draco Malfoy (who was sporting a rather brilliant black eye) when he was sorted into Slytherin and flounced off to join Crabbe and Goyle. Looking at the Slytherin table, Emma couldn't help but realize that they all looked like a rather unpleasant lot.
There wasn't a large number of people left, Emma realized with a jolt. They were getting to the end.
When "Perks, Sally-Anne," was called and placed into Ravenclaw, an unpleasant jolt appeared in Emma's stomach. Her mind began to race a mile a minute, going through all the possibilities of bad things that could happen when she got up there.
"Potter, Emma," was called and Emma sucked in a deep breath.
"Good luck," Ron whispered and gave her a slight push forward.
Whispers broke out throughout the hall and Emma had to fight the urge to turn around and glare at the hall as a whole.
"Did she say Emma Potter?"
"Like the Emma Potter?"
"She doesn't look very impressive."
"Rather short, I think."
"Doesn't really look eleven, does she."
Emma scanned the hall as she sat on the stool. The last thing she saw were faces craning to get a good look at her when the hat dropped on her eyes and everything turned to black.
"Hmmm," said a small voice in her head. A talking hat, Emma thought, why not? "Difficult. Very Difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either, not at all. There's talent, oh yes. Such talent. You could go on to do great things, Emma Potter. Courage, so much courage. And a thirst to prove yourself. Well, you'll get your time, won't you? But where to put you, is the question?"
Emma thought of Draco Malfoy and his snarling face. Of the table of Slytherins who all seemed to be glaring at her. Not Slytherin, she thought, Anything but Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, hmm? Are you sure? Slytherin could help you become who you thirst to be. What about Hufflepuff? You are loyal enough. But… no, not Hufflepuff. Your mind is true, that's for sure, but Ravenclaw doesn't seem to be the fit for you. Well, if you're sure about Slytherin, better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Somehow, Emma was sure that these last words were shouted into the hall. Thunderous applause sounded as Emma passed the hat back to McGonagall and walked shakily to the Gryffindor table. Percy got up a vigorously shook Emma's hand, surprising her. The Weasley twins and their friends were screaming "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Emma sat down next to Seamus who grinned at her. She couldn't help but grin back.
Dean Thomas joined them soon after, and when Ron got sorted into Gryffindor, Emma clapped loudly along with all of the rest of the Weasleys.
"Good job, Ron," Percy Weasley said, patting his brother on the back. Ron grinned, collapsing into a seat next to Emma.
"See," Emma whispered, looping an arm around Ron's shoulder, "told ya it couldn't be too bad."
"Shut up," Ron smirked. "You were just as nervous as me."
"Was not!" Emma said. "You were pale as a ghost."
"And you looked on the verge of throwing up."
"Let's all agree," Lavender Brown, one of the other first-year Gryffindors, piped in, "that Seamus was the most scared."
"Hey!" the boy in question objected, causing all the kids to laugh.
"Welcome!" a tall man in billowing blue robes said, standing up. "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."
The hall burst into cheers, but Emma just clapped uncertainty. He seemed slightly… well, insane.
"Who was that?" Emma whispered.
"Albus Dumbledore," Percy Weasley chimed in, leaning overtop of Dean and Seamus who looked taken aback. "The man's a genius! Best wizard in the world!"
"He seems insane," Emma said blatantly, earning a glare from Percy.
"Potatoes, Emma?" Ron asked, loading his own plate.
Emma's mouth fell open. The golden platters on the table were now full of varieties of food, everything from chicken to peas, ketchup, gravy, chops, and even what looked like peppermint humbugs. She had never seen so much food in her life.
Emma, who had never been starved at the Dursleys but never was allowed to eat a lot, piled her plate high with food. The only person who had more was Ron, who somehow managed to eat the entire plate.
"No wonder the two of you hit it off," Dean teased. "You both could eat a horse."
"It tastes good," Emma argued through a mouth of food.
"Mmhm," Ron agreed, shoveling some potatoes into his mouth.
Both let out sounds of distress when, a few minutes later, all the food disappeared. But moments later dessert appeared, and the two immersed themselves in blocks of ice cream, pies, tarts, doughnuts, trifles, jello, rice pudding…
Talk turned to their families as all the kids gorged themselves on dessert.
"I'm half-and-half," Seamus was saying. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him!"
"Both my parents are wizards," Lavender said, biting into a cookie, "but they're not around a lot. Mum works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Dad owns his own sweets shop. My older sister, Bryn, practically raised me."
"Mum and dad have always been really overprotective of Pad and me," Parvati Patil said. "It's quite annoying actually."
"I'm a muggleborn," Dean said. "My dad died when I was really little, but my mom remarried."
"What about you, Neville?" Emma asked one of the other new Gryffindors.
"My gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said, "but I thought I was a muggle for a while. I didn't show any magical signs until I was ten. Gran was so pleased when I got my letter that she bought me Trevor."
Emma turned towards the staff table, glancing up and down it. Hagrid gave her a little wave and a wink, causing Emma to smile back at him, but all of the other teachers were mid-conversation. Emma recognized Professor Quirrell talking with a professor who had long black hair and a hooked nose. As if knowing Emma was looking at him, the teacher turned and glared at her.
As soon as his eyes met her, pain shot through her scar.
"Ouch!" Emma groaned, slapping a hand to her head.
"Are you alright?"
"Emma?"
"What's the matter?"
All of the Gryffindor first years turned towards her, looks of concern on their face.
"N-nothing. I'm alright," Emma replied, trying to keep her voice even. But the pounding in her scar lingered through the rest of dessert.
When all the dessert disappeared, Professor Dumbledore stood up again.
"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give to you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Emma could have sworn that Dumbledore's eyes flickered to the Weasleys who were whistling a tune with matching innocent looks on their faces. Emma laughed lightly and Fred flashed her a cheesy grin.
"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.
"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."
Emma couldn't help but think that saying this wasn't the best idea on the head master's part. If there was one thing Emma had learned throughout her years was that telling a group of kids not to do something only made them want to do it more. She, for one, was already wondering what was in the corridor.
Ron caught Emma's eye and frowned at the look on her face. "You're not seriously thinking about going into the corridor, are you?"
"Wasn't it you who said you wanted to live up to your brothers?" Emma asked innocently.
"Live up to them," Ron said. "I'm pretty sure that involves living."
"What's life without a little adventure?" Emma said, her eyes twinkling.
"And now," Dumbledore said, causing Emma to frown. She hadn't realized the professor was still talking. "Let us sing our school song!"
Emma was sure her face showed exactly what she thought of singing, as Ron began to laugh at her.
"Everyone pick your favorite tune and off we go!"
And there you have it, folks! I hope you guys liked it! If you did, please drop a review and follow/favorite. Also if you have any questions regarding me as a person or as a writer, or if you have any ideas about this story, feel free to review or PM me!
See you all next week!