A Flower By Any Other Name
Chapter Three
Primrose's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun.
It was strange having a bedroom upstairs with the rest of the family. Dudley avoided her like the plague, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were so furious over the tail Dudley sported, and the fact that she was going to Hogwarts that they pretended she didn't exist, though at night she knew that someone was standing outside the door. They would hover there for a few moments before creaking away. It happened quite often.
Primrose kept to her new room, with her new owl for company. She had decided to call her Hedwig, a name she had found in A History of Magic. Her school books were absolutely fascinating, laying on her bed reading late into the night in a mad attempt to absorb all the knowledge she could, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before she went to sleep, Primrose ticked off another day on the piece of paper she had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.
On the last day of August she thought she'd better speak to her aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so she went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. She cleared her throat to let them know she was there, and Dudley gave her a nasty but lingering look. He was beginning to be more comfortable around her again, possibly because she hardly ever left her room now.
"Er - Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted, turning to look at her for a moment, lingering on her new clothes; a modest brown button up skirt with a white blouse, before focusing on the television again. Aunt Petunia had given her the most sourest of expressions when she realised that Primrose had bought new clothes the first night back from her Diagon Alley trip. They never mentioned it of course, but the displeasure was palpable.
"Er - I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to - to go to Hogwarts."
Uncle Vernon grunted again.
"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"
Grunt. Primrose supposed that meant yes.
"Thank you."
She was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.
"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"
Primrose didn't say anything. It would only make him upset if she told him that magic carpets were regulated and mostly found within middle eastern magical communities.
"Where is this school, anyway?"
"I don't know," said Primrose, realizing this for the first time. Hogwarts, A History didn't mention it. She pulled the ticket Hagrid had given her out of her pocket.
"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," she read.
Her aunt and uncle stared.
"Platform what?"
"Nine and three-quarters."
"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."
"It's on my ticket."
"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."
"Why are you going to London?" Primrose asked, trying to keep things friendly.
"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."
Primrose woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. She got up and pulled on a knitted olive coloured long sleeved dress which sat comfortably above her knee because she didn't want to walk into the station in her wizard's robes - she'd change on the train. Then checked her Hogwarts list yet again to make sure she had everything she needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Primrose's huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Primrose, not that he protested much, keen to simply stare at her thighs, which were visibly for once, (Dudley's hand-me-downs were too big for her small frame and tended to go down to almost her ankles) and they had set off.
They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Primrose's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for her. Primrose thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.
"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"
He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.
"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Primrose turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Her mouth went rather dry. What on earth was she going to do? She was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig. She'd have to ask someone.
Primrose stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when she couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Primrose was being stupid on purpose.
Getting desperate, Primrose asked for the train that left at eleven o'clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Primrose was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, she had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and she had no idea how to do it; she was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk she could hardly lift, and a large owl.
Leaning against a barrier in order to avoid the throng of crowds, Primrose squeaked as the wall gave way and everything around her distorted.
Of course. A magical platform.
She hurriedly went back through the barrier to grab her trolley, half cursing Hagrid for forgetting to mention it, then cursing 'Hogwarts, A History' for not mentioning it either.
Stepping up onto the train, Primrose looked around for an empty compartment but instead she opened one with a familiar face inside; the blonde boy from Madam Malkin's.
Gray eyes lit up in recognition, "it's you! come in," the boy drawled, standing up to help her with her trunk, she was blessed that his two companions were strong enough to lift it into the overhead compartment.
"Thank you," she huffed gratefully, partly relieved that she wasn't late and also because she was exhausted. Sitting opposite him, she relaxed.
"It's so uncivilised outside, you'd think they'd organise everything a bit better, instead it's like a human menagerie." sneered the boy, "mother and father thankfully brought me here a bit earlier to save myself from being jostled about."
"You're lucky, I wish I'd come earlier" Primrose replied.
The compartment slid open once more and a pretty girl with dark hair and blue eyes entered.
"Greengrass," greeted the boy cooly, the girl gave him a polite nod, "Malfoy," she answered back.
The train slowly started moving and before the door could close completely, another boy came inside with a pug faced girl. They all greeted each other with familiarity making Primrose feel out of place.
"Where's Nott?" asked the dark skinned boy called 'Zabini'.
"Probably held back by the large crowd in the hallway," said the pug faced girl called 'Parkinson'.
She turned out to be right as a brown haired boy soon squeezed himself inside. This most likely being 'Nott'.
"Who is this?" demanded 'Parkinson' finally noticing her and giving Primrose a rather not-friendly look. All attention turned towards her which made her tense.
"This is-" Malfoy started before frowning, "actually I don't think we exchanged names, I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and you are?"
"You didn't ask her name?" asked Greengrass, her eyebrow raised in surprise.
"We were rather preoccupied at Madam Malkin's." was his cold reply. Primrose couldn't help but prefer his smiling face to this one. He seemed like a completely different boy now from the rather open and friendly person she had met.
"My name is Primrose," Primrose interrupted, "Primrose Potter."
Seven pairs of eyes widened.
"Are you really?" asked 'Zabini' with a tinge of scepticism.
"No, I'm lying." she answered sarcastically giving him an expression she hoped conveyed 'are you stupid?'. He had the decency to look away, rather embarrassed.
"Forgive me," he said apologetically, "My name is Blaise Zabini, pleasure to meet you."
Primrose couldn't help but admire how fast he recovered, she gave him a friendly smile which made his ears turn a darker shade.
"My name is Daphne Greengrass, that's Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott." Greengrass said as she introduced the others, "Those two over there are Crabb and Goyle."
Primrose found it interesting that she didn't say their full names. Clearly they were lower in the hierarchy scale.
"Pleasure," she greeted.
"Is it true you have a scar?" Asked Parkinson, Primrose had a strong feeling she wouldn't get along with this girl. The room all gave Parkinson a discreetly dirty look, clearly she had broken some sort of protocol.
"I do." was Primrose's curt reply, not particularly feeling for this line of topic either.
"Well, show us then." demanded Parkinson rather rudely.
"I'd much rather not." she answered back as Malfoy said in a dry tone "I think we could all do without having Potter parade her scars around for our amusement."
They were thankfully interrupted as a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"
Primrose who did not have breakfast, stood up, as did surprisingly everyone else. Primrose was awed by the range of what the woman had, having expected Mars Bars rather than magical food. Bit silly of her really. What the woman did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Primrose had never seen in her life.
Not wanting to miss anything, she got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.
Primrose blushed when the group saw her rather embarrassingly large pile.
"I'm sorry, I've never had magical sweets before, I was muggle raised you see."
This made everyone pause.
"That must have been awful," Nott murmured with a distinctly pale complexion. "I can't imagine living like that,"
"how barbaric!" Parkinson cried.
"To think, Primrose Potter living with muggles," Malfoy spat rather disgusted, "what were they even thinking."
Primrose found it hard to disagree. The Dursleys were dreadful, and deep down she truly wished she had been taken in by a magical family.
"I wouldn't recommend it," she murmured, fiddling with the packaging of what was labelled as 'Ice Mice'.
"These aren't real mice, are they?" she asked with a tinge of shame at her ignorance, this made Malfoy scoff and Nott shiver at the thought of eating actual mice.
"No, they're spelled that way, but careful with that, they make your teeth 'chatter and squeak' like mice do," Said Greengrass, "they'll also make you rather cold. It's usually eaten during really hot days."
Primrose took a bite out of the squirming white mouse, feeling a bit ill at the concept of biting what appeared to be a moving creature, but then blushed as the most undignified noises came out of her mouth. The group smirked at her.
The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.
There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy came in. He looked tearful and also rather fearful when he recognised the faces around the room.
"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
"Longbottom," sneered Parkinson and the boy flinched.
"P-parkinson," he answered back with a stutter.
"We haven't seen your toad," she snapped, glaring at him.
"It'll turn up, maybe ask a Professor when we arrive," suggested Primrose, hoping to be a bit more positive.
"Yes," said the boy miserably before hastily inching out the door. "Well, if you see him..."
He left.
"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Malfoy as he bit into a liquorice wand, "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Not that I would have, mind you, my parents wouldn't humiliate me like that."
"Why are toads so looked down upon?" Primrose asked, curious.
"They're just embarrassingly archaic," he answered, "they also lack the intelligence that an owl or a cat has, they're possibly only slightly better than a rat and having a rat is highly humiliating enough."
"I see," Primrose murmured, looking out the window in thought. She was now ever more thankful that she had gotten an Owl.
Not long after, the boy came back, along with a bushy haired girl with a rather bossy tone, she was quickly told to get out by an irritated Malfoy. Something about her seemed to displease everyone around the room. Primrose hesitantly brought it up.
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families, some people, are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." said Malfoy, Primrose considered this.
At this point she was completely new to the Magical World, she was pitifully ignorant, but Malfoy had been raised in this community, he would know things only a true native would. It was highly tempting.
What he said also made sense. After all, the Dursley's also taught her that people had a hierarchy within the world.
"I wouldn't mind some help," she replied, "though don't expect anything, I like making informed decisions."
This made him smile as they shook hands.
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to blindly do as I suggest," he scoffed. "Only a fool would let another person control them in such a way. And definitely not Slytherins."
She was interested by the the fact that they pointedly did not look at Crabbe and Goyle who were demolishing the every flavour beans.
Primrose followed Greengrass and Parkinson towards the female bathrooms to change, they would soon be arriving at the station. When they returned, Primrose looked outside the window. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down.
A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Primrose's stomach lurched with nerves and she noticed that though the rest of the group were impeccably well-presented, they too looked rather pale as well.
They stayed in their seat until the train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform but Malfoy's group were more dignified and went at a slower, more civilised pace out of the train. Primrose shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Primrose heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Primrose?"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Primrose thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!"
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.
"Over here," Malfoy called in a boat with Zabini, Greengrass and Nott, Primrose gratefully got in with them. It was oddly pleasant being remembered and prioritised. Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle were in another boat with another girl that Primrose didn't recognise.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Longbottom blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Primrose's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Primrose could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Longbottom's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on a boy with red hair who had a rather visible smudge on his nose. Primrose nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber. Primrose swallowed.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" she heard a person ask the red haired boy.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Her heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? She was told explicitly that she wasn't allowed to practice magic at home- what on earth would she have to do? Primrose hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. Even Malfoy's put together face wavered a bit. No one was talking much except the bossy toned girl from the train, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Primrose tried hard not to listen to her. She'd never been more nervous, never, not even when she'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that she'd somehow turned her teacher's wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and she'll be lead in just to fail miserably. Unremarkable, useless Primrose Potter who would live the rest of her life weak and powerless.
Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air - several people behind her screamed.
"What the - ?"
She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Primrose got into line behind Greengrass with Malfoy behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Primrose had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Primrose looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard the bossy girl whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
No— Hogwarts, A History's bland description could never do this beautiful piece of magic any justice. She could spend the rest of her life without magic and would still feel blessed to have seen all that she had.
Primrose quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.
Maybe they had to turn it into something— what was it called, Transfiguration? Primrose thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing.
The piece was unique and though it's voice wasn't spectacular, it was still pleasant to listen to.
"Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends."
Something about those lines called to her in a way Primrose had never truly experienced before. It made her chest throb painfully and her eyes sting a bit.
'Real friends'
She tried her best to shake the emotion away.
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" whispered the red haired boy loudly, "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Primrose couldn't help but smile weakly.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause -
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Primrose saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Primrose could see a pair of red-headed twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. The girl who sat with Parkinson in the boat.
She was starting to feel definitely sick now. she remembered being picked for teams during gym at her old school. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked her. Terrible things happened to those who were friendly to her around her cousin. His rage rivalled Uncle Vernon's in aggression. No, Dudley had once whispered darkly during 'Primrose Hunting' that she would have no one but him and that she should be thankful that she was so 'protected'.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Primrose noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy that had been in front of Greengrass, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
The bossy toned girl with bushy hair almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Primrose heard the red haired boy groan. She resolved to not get into Gryffindor if she had a choice. It seemed he was vying for that particular house and she found him rather irritating. She also found the Granger girl irritating too.
A horrible thought struck Primrose, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if she wasn't chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over her eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she'd better get back on the train?
It made her hands shake at the thought, she couldn't bear the thought of it.
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
Malfoy sauntered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
He went to join Greengrass, Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. Glancing at her, he gave a nod of encouragement which she answered with a wobbly smile.
There weren't many people left now. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, at last -
"Potter, Primrose!"
As Primrose stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Primrose Potter?"
The last thing she saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Primrose gripped the edges of the stool and thought, please Slytherin! please Slytherin!
"Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "ahh yes, You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. Well, if you're sure - better be SLYTHERIN!"
Primrose heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table, sitting beside Malfoy. She was so relieved to have been chosen and placed within the house she wanted, she hardly noticed that the entire hall was deathly silent until she looked up at the shocked faces of everyone in the hall. Did she miss something?
Professor McGonagall stared at her with open mouthed shock.
Squirming in her seat, Primrose felt uncomfortably scrutinised.
Malfoy, finally getting tired of the silence began to clap and as if the entire hall were shaken out of a spell, suddenly Primrose was getting the loudest cheer yet. It seemed that the Slytherin table finally realised that they had been woefully unenthusiastic.
From across the Hall Primrose laughed as the red haired twins from Gryffindor began to comically wail and cry, "Slytherin got Potter! Slytherin got Potter!" they lamented dramatically. They were funny.
She could see the High Table properly now. At the end furthest from her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. He looked a bit shaken but he still smiled warmly at her. Primrose grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Primrose recognised him at once from the card Nott had gotten out of the Chocolate Frog he had eaten on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Primrose spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," an incredibly tall Black boy, joined the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was the red haired boy's turn. "Weasley, Ron". He was pale green by now. A second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Finally and lastly, "Zabini, Blaise" was called and made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
"Congratulations, Zabini" Primrose said as he sat across from her.
"It was as expected, but thank you" he replied, looking collected.
Primrose looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties and sweets seemed ages ago.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"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!"
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Primrose didn't know whether to laugh or not.
"Is he - a bit mad?" she asked Malfoy uncertainly.
"Mad?" Malfoy scoffed, "completely barmy would be a better fit! Father keeps hoping for the day the board can finally force his retirement. Would you like some potatoes, Primrose?"
Primrose's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
For most of her life, the Dursleys had fed her scraps off their table or cheap canned foods that they didn't bother heating up. It was a luxury to even sneak some
cheese and bread into her cupboard without detection. She had gone days without food once when she had particularly irritated her aunt. At one point she was so hungry she even agreed to eat out of Dudley's hands while on her knees. Anything to get something into her belly.
Now faced with all that she could possibly want, Primrose froze for fear of it being a fever dream.
"Come on, you're going to miss out on the food if you keep dawdling." said Zabini glancing at her. This shook her out of her reverie and she began to place items on her plate taking care to not rush. Everyone else on the table had an air of poise and dignity about them, eating with a level of etiquette which seemed like it was bred into them at birth.
Taking a bite of the roast potatoes, she couldn't help but close her eyes and bite back the noise which desperately wanted to come out of her throat. It was absolutely delicious. Opening her eyes she blushed at the indecipherable expression on Zabini's face.
"That good, huh?" he murmured throatily before focusing on his own meal, grabbing some potatoes for himself.
"I haven't eaten in so long," said an echoing voice beside her, Primrose almost jumped at the frightening visage of a ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood.
"W-would you like some, sir?" she asked out of politeness. The ghost gave a grim smile.
"There would be no point but I thank you for your offer," he said, patting her on her shoulder which made Primrose feel like she had been dunked in ice water before he disappeared.
"That was the Bloody Baron, our house Ghost" said Malfoy with a disturbed expression.
"How did he get covered in blood?" she asked with great interest.
"According to father, no one dares ask. He's absolutely terrifying." was his reply.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...
As Primrose helped herself to a treacle tart, her thoughts turned to families.
"So are you all descended from magical families then?" she had asked curiously.
"Of course! Greengrass, myself, Parkinson, Nott and most of those within Slytherin are Purebloods." said Malfoy smugly.
"Purebloods?" she thought it an odd phrase, they weren't like Aunt Marge's dogs after all.
"The term 'pure-blood' refers to a family or individual without Muggle blood." Greengrass explained cooly, "Zabini and yourself are considered half-bloods, as his father and your mother have muggle lineage."
Zabini gave Greengrass a rather displeased look. Primrose realised that perhaps being a half-blood wasn't exactly something in which people bragged about.
"He wasn't particularly relevant in my life, seeing as he unfortunately passed away before I was born." drawled Zabini frostily.
"Of course, it seems you're cursed, Zabini," Parkinson piped up with a cruel grin, "all your 'fathers' tend to fall to their demise quite soon after the wedding, don't they?"
"Such a shame, really, my poor mother grieves over each and every one." his response was spoken with an equally vicious smile.
There was silence before it quickly turned to lighter conversation topics.
Primrose, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher turned away from Professor Quirrell and looked at the Slytherin table, accidentally creating eye contact with Primrose who had been staring at him. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach, his expression full of what could only be described as longing and torment before he looked away, features smoothening out as if nothing had happened. Primrose felt her heart thumping madly in her chest.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" she asked Greengrass, who glanced up before quirking her lips in a ghost of what looked to be a smile.
"That is Professor Snape, he's our Head of House and teaches Potions. I suggest you read ahead, while he favours Slytherin, he expects us to know his subject."
Primrose made a note to re-read her Potions textbook. She wondered why he had looked at her in such a way.
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
"Ahem - 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. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Gryffindor twins.
"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."
Primrose laughed, but she was one of the few who did.
"He's not serious?" she muttered to Malfoy.
"Must be," he replied, frowning at Dumbledore. "Why else would he mention it. I wonder if Father knows anything, he's on the school board you know."
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Primrose noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
It was dreadful. The off-tune concoction which reverberated around the room was deafening and made most of those standing within Slytherin scowl. Yes, they did not join in.
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Gryffindor twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Slytherin first years were lead down into the dungeons by their Prefect Gemma Farley. They all paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
"Congratulations! I'm Prefect Gemma Farley, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House! Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures; our house colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance right here. The password is: anguis." said the Prefect, a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Shuffling inside they all marvelled at the sight before them. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several older Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.
"As you can see, its windows look out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake. We often see the giant squid swooshing by – and sometimes more interesting creatures. Now remember the password but if you find it particularly hard, don't worry. It changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries."
"Now! Here's a little-known fact that the other three houses don't bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house! Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth?
I didn't think so."
"We Slytherins look after our own – which is more than you can say for Ravenclaw. Apart from being the biggest bunch of swots you ever met, Ravenclaws are famous for clambering over each other to get good marks, whereas we Slytherins are brothers. The corridors of Hogwarts can throw up surprises for the unwary, and you'll be glad you've got the Serpents on your side as you move around the school. This isn't optional, you will move as a unit outside of this common room regardless of personal vendettas or you face the consequences of experiencing the wrong side of Professor Snape. As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours – one of the elite.
Because you know what Salazar Slytherin looked for in his chosen students? The seeds of greatness. You've been chosen by this house because you've got the potential to be great, in the true sense of the word."
"Well, I think that's all for now. I'm sure you'll like our dormitories. Girls dormitories are through the left hallway, boys are through the right. First years are on the first floor and subsequently the higher the year you're in, the higher you go up the stairs in each. Bathrooms are right at the end of each hallway. Have a lovely night and congratulations."
Primrose had never felt more proud in her life. She felt like she achieved something, she was part of the elite, she had potential. Looking around the common room, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
Following the other girls through the hallway marked with an elaborate silver sign above the entrance that read 'Girls', Primrose noticed that the doors all had silver placards with single surnames attached to it. She had assumed that they would be sharing rooms. Now she was pleasantly surprised. Strolling down, Primrose found the door marked 'Potter' and entered.
It was a small sized room with an ancient four-poster bed in the centre with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins covered the walls, and a single silver lantern hanged from the ceiling. There was a large window overlooking the inside of lake much like the one in the common room which replaced the entire strip of wall behind the bed, and at the foot was her trunk. To the right was a large wardrobe made from what seemed like the same wood as the bed frame and to the left was a modest desk and thin bookshelf of the same type. It was cozy, she could hear the lake water lapping against the window.
Grabbing a change of clothes and the small pack left on her bed with a toothbrush and toothpaste inside it, as well as the neatly folded towel, Primrose left her room and walked to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, which to her chagrin was actually pretty far.
She admired how large it was. Rows of stalls lined the walls, as did sinks. Half were toilets and the rest were showers. At least there wouldn't be a long line for either.
Primrose took a shower and sighed happily; the shower stall had a range of soaps, shampoo and conditioners readily available. There were also a few extra knozzles on the walls which made the water come out scented in various fragrances. She loved magic, but she also loved showers in general. The Dursleys were as stingy with them as they were with food and toilet breaks. It was nice to not have to rush for once. It was nice to clean herself with hot water as well.
When she finished she brushed her teeth before trudging tiredly back to her room and collapsing on the most lavish and comfortable bed she had ever experienced.
As she fell asleep, Primrose dreamt of green lights, cold laughter and the smell of rain mixed with cinnamon.
She didn't wake until morning.