Chapter Three: Misnomers

Deirdre brushed her hand across the midnight coloured lake, watching as the stars reflected in the water rippled away at her touch. It was almost like she was dipping her hand into the galaxy above her, with an infinite mass of stars and possibilities.

"Hello?"

Sighing, Deirdre pulled herself away from the entrancing mysteries of the lake, and turned around to face Albus, who wore an expression of confusion. "You looked like you were about to fall in."

"Well, I hope you were planning on catching me." Deirdre replied, with a smile that danced behind her eyes. She took a step forward, and began to walk alongside Albus, towards the castle that somehow managed glittered, despite the darkness it was shrouded in.

"The Giant Squid would have gotten to you before I could," Albus chuckled.

"Please," Rose said, appearing behind them. Even in the dark, her hair was acted as a torch. Her red curls flared out into all directions, like fire that curled into the cold air. "Don't let him fool you into believing that. Our parents are full of stories, and Albus is gullible enough to believe every single one."

"You never know," Deirdre protested. "Anything is possible." Of all the impossibilities of the world, Deirdre hardly believed that creatures like the Giant Squid were really all that impossible.

Rose reached for her hand, and pulled Deirdre along from both the lake and her delirious fantasies. "Of course you must always keep your mind open to the possibilities, but there are some things that are just absolutely ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous," Albus droned. "Your Dad swears he's seen the squid before."

Rose shoved her cousin into silence. "And he also stands by a thousand other unbelievable statements," she combated, as Albus chuckled at her adamancy. "Do you really believe he was even conscious enough to have seen the creature?"

"Well, it's not the most impossible thing he's ever suggested."

They meandered towards the crowd of students that had formed, and followed the slender woman who had decided to lead them to the castle. She had introduced herself as Professor Linden, Head of the Astronomy department. She had sharp features, which were usually considered unattractive, however on the Professor they clashed in a somewhat nice way.

"Come now," Professor Linden called, as the children hustled inside the castle. Her voice was sweet like honey, the same persuasive tone one would hear a salesmen use on television. Except when Professor Linden spoke, one would know she was being genuine.

Deirdre walked past the Professor, and had to hold her breath. She was eleven years old, and had never been in love. However in that moment, she knew exactly what it would feel like if she ever was.

Thousands of paintings cluttered the walls, and those who were painted floated from picture to picture. There were wide marble staircases, opposite to the doors she had entered from, that seemed to extend forever. More than that, the castle had some an atmosphere that made those inside feel welcome. It felt like home.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

All the heads in the room turned to the woman stood in front. Professor Linden had disappeared into the hall hidden behind the doors, and now another woman stood in her place. She wore emerald robes that matched her pointed hat, and had weathered features that showed her many years.

"The feast will begin in a moment, however we must deal with another matter." Her eyes glittered, which Deirdre sensed only happened with people with years upon years of wisdom. That was something completely different than how many years someone had, because wisdom came from experience. "In a minute, each of you will be sorted into one of the four Hogwarts Houses. These Houses will eventually become something comparable to your own families. With luck, each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

The doors moaned open, and the excited chatter in the room escalated. Deirdre could almost swear that she saw a faint smile on the woman, but she had turned around too quickly for her to decide whether or not she had actually seen it.

The Great Hall was spectacular. Deirdre could have never imagined such a wonderful place. There were four tables where the rest of the students were placed, and coloured banners that hung across the walls. She had never been in a room that emitted the warmth, and sense of community that this room had.

The woman with the pointed hat led the children down the hall, weaving in between the tables of students. Deirdre noticed that they were under some serious speculation. It was almost like the students were sizing them up. Deciding on which ones would serve their own house best.

She stopped, nearly bumping into the people in front of her, and realised that the woman had stopped them from proceeding. While they waited at the bottom of the stairs, she watched as the woman pulled out a wooden stool out from nowhere, and placed it in the middle of the room.

Conjuring another item from thin air, she pulled out another pointed hat, one that was patched and unfathomably old. With the hat in hand, she stepped forward and placed the it on the stool. She then went backward, and placed her hands respectfully in her lap.

Everyone seemed to be waiting for something, or someone, to speak up, or do something. Deirdre had been expecting one of the other faculty members, all sat behind a long horizontal table, to step forward and make a speech of what was to come, but what happened instead was entirely different.

The hat began to sing.

For many years, you all will have heard,

There were four of which you might be,

But listen close, to every word,

And perhaps you will begin to see.

In the past, it was those Gryffindors who dwelled bravely,

The Hufflepuffs were loyal and true,

Ravenclaws wore their intelligence proudly,

And Slytherins were often misconstrued.

War has ravaged us,

Blackened our morale,

Made use one minded,

And unable to change.

But still, and evermore, you demand answers.

Well let me answer you now.

Our great founders are dead and gone.

Those whose morales have built this school,

Are now buried in the ground.

The times have changed,

And with this so must we.

Not all Gryffindors must dwell bravely

Nor must all Hufflepuffs be dutifully true

Nor all Ravenclaws beam with intelligence

Slytherins must no longer be misconstrued.

Alas, this is what you do not wish to hear.

Shall we proceed then,

Who is first in line?

Let the sorting now begin.

Deirdre, who was already confused about her situation, was unable to comprehend the true meaning behind these words, but it seemed this instance did not go unnoticed by the rest of the hall. Students and teachers alike broke out into mumbles, and the mumbles escalated into worried whispers, which transformed into scattered chatter. Deirdre glanced over to Albus and Rose, who both wore expressions of worry.

"Settle down now!" Deirdre turned to the front of the room, where a man was bellowing from his seat. He seemed to be young, but the lines set in his features suggested otherwise. "Let us make haste, and return to the sorting."

The whispers did not die immediately, but overtime they ceased. "Abrahams, Alessandra." Someone called out, as a short female in the front of the crowd shuffled forward. She stepped onto the platform, and took a seat on the stool in the middle of the room.

While the rest of the people in the room still seemed to continue to be giving each other uncomprehending glances, Deirdre stood on her toes and peered over to see what was happening to Alessandra Abrahams, and stood just in time to hear the hat on her head shout out: "Gryffindor!"

Applause erupted from the table colored with scarlet banners, louder and more ferocious than the other houses. Alessandra smiled, and sauntered over to the table that had so warmly applauded her.

"Boot, Jonah." Another student walked out from the crowd, one with brown tresses that fell into his face. He stepped up onto the platform, and sat down on the stool. The woman placed the hat on his head, and waited. This time it seemed to take a while to decide on where Jonah would be placed, but eventually a conclusion was made.

"Ravenclaw!"

And so it went on.

Deirdre had been counting down the letters to her name, and knew it must be coming soon. She couldn't fathom ever being more excited than she was now. It felt like this must be a defining moment at the school, the moment that made a person a someone.

She watched as the woman, whom Rose had identified as Minerva Mcgonagall, stumbled over her name. It was something a woman with such stature should not have done. She took a moment to compose herself, though her brows were still furrowed, and then recited the name.

"Dursley, Deirdre."

Deirdre smiled, but she was the only one that did. There was an uneasiness that had settled into the crowd. Heads turned, and voices whispered. She was suddenly unmotivated to move from the spot her feet were attached to, but was inevitably thrusted forward.

She soon found herself sat on the stool, aware of the hundreds of eyes watching her every move. The one moment she tore her eyes away from the floor, she spotted Professor McGonagall and her sour faced expression in the corner of her vision.

It was the last thing she saw before the hat was dropped over her eyes.

How peculiar.

Soft. That was the only word that came to mind when she heard the voice. It was almost silent. It seemed that no one but Deirdre had heard this voice.

What?

And you don't even know. Do not fret, you will learn soon. For now, let us see what Deirdre Dursley has to offer.

Deirdre waited, and listened in on the occasional mumbles from the hat. Intelligence. Yes, there is some of that in there. And loyalty, but only to those who deserve it. Brave...yes, yes quite possibly, and ambition - an innate desire to please.

"I know where you belong." The hate said, this time aloud for all to hear. "Best be, Slytherin!"

Before Deirdre even saw the hat be removed from her head, she heard the chatter. She could imagine the mouths moving hurriedly, and heads turning in all directions, and, soon, she did not have to imagine this.

Wide eyed, Deirdre averted her gaze from the hundreds of students all craning to get a good look at her. She felt someone give her a good shove off of the stage, and would have been infuriated by the gesture if she wasn't so immensely grateful for it. She wasn't sure she could manage it all on her own.

Her eyes now glued to the floor, Deirdre hustled over to the table on the side furthest away from the stage. She could feel the stares, and hear the whispers, but pushed them all away. Her heart was racing, so quickly that it posed the threat to burst out of her chest at any given moment.

When she finally dared to look up, she was met with a number of stares. Some were harmless, merely curious eyes that were trying to determine whether or not Deirdre was worth their time at all, and some were more venomous. Those were the ones that sent shivers down her spine.

And for what? Deirdre could not fathom the reason. Why, she wondered, would Professor McGonagall have such a vendetta against her to have stumbled over her name? Why was it that everyone in the hall seemed to know her name?

"Calm yourselves!" Said the man from before. His voice boomed around the hall, and silenced each student who dared to whisper. "Dashner, Florence. Please come forward."

Gradually, the conversation died down, which made Deirdre's attempts at blending into the walls the slightest bit easier. Somehow, she had managed to convince herself to forget the incidents prior, and focus on what was happening in the present. She scaled the table for a seat, but each time she thought she spotted one, the seat closed up as she neared it.

"Come on," Deirdre heard someone mumble. "Just move over."

Her eyes flickered up and landed on a boy who was sat on the very end of the table. His hair had been forcefully combed down for this momentous occasion, but it was obvious that it was not meant to last, as parts of his hair were already beginning to deter from the rest of his head.

He turned around, and his eyes landed on Deirdre. His hair fell into his face, as he slid over and offered her the end seat.

Deirdre calculated his motives, but could not come to a conclusion reasonable enough for her to walk away from his offer. She stepped towards the table, still completely aware of the cold glares she was receiving, and sat down.

"Thanks," Deirdre whispered, as to not draw the attention of anyone else in earshot.

He smiled, and offered her a handshake. "I'm Eli."

She glanced down to his hand, which was steady despite the clamour going on around them. Tentatively, Deirdre decided to shake it, and smiled back at him. "Deirdre, but you already knew that."

Her eyes washed over Eli, and onto the people sat behind him. Their eyes were set away from Deirdre, but their mouths spoke of nothing but her name. Eli either seemed to not notice this, or ignored the commotion entirely. "Good to meet you," he said. "Welcome to Slytherin."

"Thanks," Deirdre repeated, still focused on the mumbles. She looked back towards Eli, who could not dismiss the oddities Deirdre's presence had caused. "What's everyone looking at?"

Eli chuckled. "You!" He said, as if she should have known.

Deirdre's brows furrowed together of their own accord. "Why?"

"You really don't know?" Eli asked, as he cocked his head to the side.

"She's probably just pulling your leg." There was a student sat across the table, whose dark tresses fell in curls around her face. "You know, play it up for the attention." She would have been pretty had it not been for the clear expression of disgust plastered on her face.

"Buzz off Bella," Eli replied smoothly, as if he had done the same a thousand times before. Bella stuck out her tongue at him, and then smirked. It was the way a girl acted when there was no other way to indicate attraction.

"Quiet!" A voice screeched from the front of the room, Professor McGonagall. Her emerald robes flared out at her feet, like she had been stomping to gather their attention. "I expect all of you to give your utmost respect to the remaining students, and remain silent for the remainder of the sorting!"

For the next few minutes, there was indeed silence. There was only the periodic resurface of polite applause that came after each sorting. Deirdre hadn't acknowledged this before, but it was in that moment she came to realise that she had not even received this small gesture of welcome when she was sorted. Instead of applause, she got murmurs and whispers.

"Professor McGonagall," Eli leaned over and whispered, in an amicable attempt at small talk. "She's been at the school for decades. Could've been the Headmaster if she wanted to be, but she passed the position to Ketteridge."

"Professor Ketteridge." Deirdre repeated, the name foreign in her mouth. "Sitting in the middle?" She watched as the man in question scratched his nose, stoically watching as the remaining students were sorted.

"Correct." Eli answered. "You have to feel for the guy though. The Daily Prophet has been releasing some horrible articles about him. They have even accused him of harbouring banned substances and selling them in Diagon Alley."

"Why?" Deirdre asked, as Benjamin Vale walked to meet with the Ravenclaws. "It cannot be true."

Eli chucked. "Course it is not true. Everyone knows that. But The Prophet has this discord for whoever decides that they're worthy to take on the school after Dumbledore. I reckon that's why McGonagall refused to take it all on. She used to be close to the old bloke."

There was a clap, and Professor Ketteridge stood. There was no microphone set up anywhere on the stage, but his voice projected itself effortlessly. Perhaps magically. "To those who have just walked off the stage, welcome. And to the rest of us, welcome back."

"I can see this years sorting has caused somewhat of a disturbance among us tonight, but it is not to be worried about. Our dear hat has merely reinstated an idea that should have already been evident, and should have already been a large part of your time here at Hogwarts. Often, we get wrapped up in house competitions and Quidditch games, and forget to see that our circles do extend past our common rooms." Pause. "And that is all I have to say on the matter. As for the rest of this evening, I will leave that duty to your respective Prefects. And, for now, I wish you a hearty meal, and clear dreams."

The man sat back down, receiving a small round of applause. Deirdre, however, forgot to take part. She was too busy, lost in deep thought. Professor Ketterdige's speech was not so difficult to understand, but it somehow felt as though there were a deeper meaning to it. Something else that wasn't quite clear to her yet, but was ever present in the words he had graced them with. It was like everyone else knew exactly what he was referring to, but dared not to speak of it.

Deirdre tore her eyes away from the stage, and felt someone nudge her shoulder. "Roast, Deirdre?"

The once barren plates in front of her were now plated with delicacies from all over. Her parents both had a passion for food. Her mother honed in on perfecting her culinary skills, and her father was more than pleased to be her guinea pig. Or literal pig. Secretly, Deirdre believed that this was one of the main reasons they got on so well in the first place.

But now the warm roasts, and other dishes Deirdre could not put a name to, were different. They seemed welcoming, and inviting - ridiculous, considering she was referencing food, but true nonetheless.

Perhaps, and this thought crossed her mind only for a moment before she banished it into oblivion, she was not only grateful for the delicious scents and tastes the food provided her with, but the fact that nobody around her was able to talk for more than a few seconds with their mouths full.

Dismissal from the Great Hall was a blessing. As soon as Professor Ketteridge waved his hand, Deirdre shot out of her seat and followed Eli down the corridor, or at least as far as was allowed of her. Eli, she learned, had already been promoted to his Second Year, and had, though perhaps not purposely, left Deirdre as soon as he was reunited with his old friends.

She found herself making another fruitless attempt at blending into the walls, and, though it was easier now that she had a crowd to blend into, it was nearly impossible to avoid her peers in a roomful of them.

The new students were to follow their house Prefect to their common room. In the case of the Slytherins, this meant a gangly fellow who called himself Kenton Willis. He led the students down moving staircases, through secret tapestries, and down sketchy hallways, all to arrive at a darkened corridor on the bottom floor. The dungeons, Deirdre heard someone say.

"Right, here's the Common Room," Kenton said, smacking his lips together with each word. "There's a new password every semester - so don't forget it, and don't start yapping with the other houses about it." He turned to the door, his robes fluttering around his legs.

"Password?" The portrait on the door drawled.

"Severus Snape!"

The man in the portrait, sat on a leather bound love seat, swung open and revealed a large hole in the wall, the gateway to the common room. Everyone barrelled through it, eager to see what awaited on the other side, and glanced around.

It wasn't extraordinarily different from the rest of the castle, save the embellishments of silver and green, but it was a sight to Deirdre nonetheless. Kenton lazily directed the girls up to their dormitories, and began to trudge up the staircase to show the boys theirs.

At the top of a stone staircase was a wooden door, and behind that door was an array of four poster beds, each of which had a different trunk at the end. Recognising one of these trunks as her own, Deirdre made her way to the bed in the corner, running her hand across the linen sheets.

"Ooh, I hate sleeping next to the doorway! Someone swap with me!" The voice was familiar, and Deirdre did not need to turn to know who it was. "Gen, would you swap with me?"

The girl who had just entered the room shrugged. "My bed is over 'ere," she said, walking up to the cot nearest to Deirdre.

She could almost hear the retraction of her request. "You know what, it's alright. If a murderer manages to slip in, I'll have a much better shot at escaping than you lot."

Deirdre bit her tongue, but then closed her eyes. She was simply too tired, worn out, and confused to put up a fight about sleeping arrangements. Without even bothering to change out of her robes, she collapsed onto the bed.

As she did this, her bed frame creaked, and drew the attention of the four other girls in the room. Silently, they looked to one another - wondering what the protocol was for a situation like this. Eventually, the majority of eyes in the room worked their way over to Genevieve, nominating her to figure it out.

"Er," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "'Alright, Deirdre?"

Deirdre took another breath, and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Tired." She heard mumbles commence, and rolled over on her side to block them out. Drowsiness and bloatedness eventually won over, and lulled her into sleep.

Authors Notes: Yeah, it almost physically hurts to put up this chapter without editing it properly, but I know that if I do I'll just end up harbouring it from you all for another week. So here it is.

Sorry that I haven't updated in a little over a month. Busy life, yeah? And I'm also sorry this chapter is probably not the most exciting, and maybe even predictable, but it's here, so yeah. I'll try and get the next update up as soon as possible, as I do have an outline ready for it, but no guarantees!

Leave a review if you enjoyed! - or not :)

DARK5hitfter: Thank you so much, it really means a lot to me! And I do intend on incorporating Dudley into this story a bit more, but not immensely so. Personally, I feel like as of now his opinions on the matter are just very scrambled, and they've probably been that way for a long time.

Guest: Initially I thought so too, and your review made me go back and check the facts. I think historically Thanksgiving is primarily for Canadians and Americans, but there are some Brits who apparently celebrate too - just because it's a nice idea I suppose? But yeah, I might go back and switch it out for another holiday later on.

MRSDARRENCRISS589: Hopefully the wait won't be too long this time! And thank you :)

OMGIluvreading: Thanks so much!

Ryuuohjin: :D Thank you loads