Chapter Four
Thomas, much like many of the other first years, was in a daze. The boat ride, on which he'd learned of Minho's very acute fear of the water and spent half his time stopping FryPan from trying to tip their boat, Thomas had caught his first look at the gigantic castle on the cliffs which was to be his home away from home for the next seven years. It was lit by many tiny floating lights, wrapped in a thin fog like an interesting pebble glinting in a riverbed.
The darkness through which they travelled was warm and comforting, the stars in the sky reflecting in the glassy surface of the lake and creating an enchanted bubble. Stars above and below made Thomas feel like he was floating and falling at the same time and it was wondrous. Before he knew it they were standing on the marble floor of a massive Entrance Hall, huddled together and feeling small and anxious and awaiting direction.
Blinking fully alert in a moment of sudden panic, Thomas threw his gaze around, finding Minho right by his side. As though he knew, which he probably did, Minho placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. His friend looked almost timid, and although it was such a bizarre expression on Minho's face, it reassured Thomas that his anxiety wasn't entirely unfounded. If the great and confident Minho was nervous, then it really was okay for Thomas to be terrified.
Swallowing nervously, he looked around again, his eyes alighting on the odd boy from the train. He too looked worried, and although he was standing in almost the middle of the crowd, he looked as though he were off to the side, alone. His face was pale, and he was gripping his collar with both hands, fingers barely peeking from the billows of his sleeves.
As though sensing his gaze, Newt looked over, and their eyes met. Thomas could read the fear in the smaller boy's gaze, and as though they were speaking, he tipped his head, trying to smile. It'll be okay. It worked, and strangely enough Newt seemed to relax just a little, and Thomas could just imagine the Thank You. he could read in Newt's timid smile back. A hush fell over the already quiet crowd, and Thomas might have missed it, his eyes still locked on Newt's, if Minho hadn't nudged him gently in the ribs.
With a last second for luck, he tore his eyes from Newt to see what had Minho's attention. A tall woman was walking towards a podium that Thomas hadn't seen before, and when she reached it she eyed them all expectantly. Thomas held his breath without knowing he was doing it.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Her voice was sharp and stern but not unpleasant, and Thomas knew immediately that she was not one to cross. Her eyes were cool and sharp as she looked at them all.
"This will be your home for the next seven years. You will learn many things within these walls, and not all of them will be found in your textbooks. I am Professor McGonagall, and i will the one teaching you Transfiguration this year. In a moment, we will proceed through these doors into the Great Hall where you will sorted into one of our four Houses, as written by our Four Founders. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin built this school with the vision that witches and wizards everywhere would have a place to learn and thrive, protected by both the ancient magics here and by each other. Your House will be your family, and you will behave in a manner befitting that of a student of this school. Points will be given and taken away based on this and a great many other things, and i can assure you that winning the House Cup is a prestigious honour, and that your older Housemates will be most unamused should any of you become a reason why they will not win."
Here she paused, and then, very strangely, she smiled.
"So do us proud. Your Head of House will be your guide, along with your upper Housemates. Your Prefects will take care of you. We will now proceed into the Great Hall. When you are sorted into your House, please make your way to the House Tables. For those of you fortunate enough to be sorted into Gryffindor, you will be under my care. Now, make two lines, and proceed in single file. Good Luck."
She swept away, approaching the massive doors. They opened at she neared, and the sight before them caused many of the first years to gasp. Scrabbling into line next to Minho, Thomas looked upon the sight in wonder. The noise gushed from the open doorway, enveloping them as they walked into the midst of it, calls and waves and laughter reaching their ears. The ceiling seemed to contain the sky, darkest under the rafters and filled with glinting stars and thousands of floating candles, which flickered invitingly amongst the clouds.
Thomas took in the sight of the four unbelievably long tables reaching out from the door end of the ginormous room, and to his far left he saw Gally sitting halfway down his House Table, amongst his friends, clad in his black and green robes. His step-brother didn't call for him, or wave like many of the other older relatives were doing. In fact, much of his table simply sat, solemn and dignified, a contrast with the craziness emanating from the other three tables.
However, Gally's eyes were upon him, tracking his movement down the long aisle, and when Thomas met his eyes, Gally smiled at him. It was a small smile, barely there, but it was there, and Thomas grinned in return. As he passed Gally's level, the older boy nodded to him. And then they had passed him and Thomas turned his eyes to the from of the Hall, where Professor McGonagall was gathering them together. Behind her was another long table, lengthways this time, and occupied by a line of Professors who couldn't be more different in appearance or attitude if they tried.
When they were finally gathered at the centre of attention in the vast room, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. Silence fell, and Thomas was awed and frightened. If so many students fell silent at just that single small cough, he wondered what horrors could happen to those who did not comply to the sharp woman's wishes.
"When i call your name you will approach the steps, and sit upon the stool. Let us begin."
She unfolded a large roll of parchment, holding it out before her as she spoke.
"Michael Alice."
A large, broad-shouldered boy approached the stool, and although Thomas instantly got the impression that this boy was not to be messed with, he looked in that moment like he wanted the floor to swallow him up. He shook as he sat on the stool, eyes wide with fear and confusion as the Professor placed a worn, ugly old hat upon his head. For a heartbeat or two, nothing happened, and the silence continued, the first years too afraid to whisper to each other.
And then, to Thomas's utter shock, the brown hat moved. It shifted as though coming to life, and the creases wiggled and settled, as though creating a furrowed brow and mouth.
Through which the object spoke. The boy, Michael, almost toppling from the stool in surprise.
"Hmm. Interesting. I spy a Ravenclaw!"
The ensuing clamour made Thomas jump. He spun in surprise to see the long table occupied by whooping students in black and blue robes shouting and calling, a round of applause exploding from almost every student in the room. When turned back, the Professors were clapping too, all except a greasy-looking dark-haired man at the far end.
Michael jumped from the stool, not noticing the way in which his robes seemed to grow blue trimming, a badge containing a bird appearing over his heart. He made his way to the table in an almost-run, and was enveloped into a hug by the taller boy seated next to him. Thomas realised he was grinning, fear forgotten as he became eager for his name to be called and his newest family assigned.
The noise died down again, and the list continued.
"Jessica Avery."
A small girl with very red cheeks and dark brown pigtails made her way up, shaking so badly she had to try twice to climb onto the stool. The hat was placed upon her head and again it shifted and muttered a little before speaking.
"I call Hufflepuff!"
The girl deemed to deflate in relief, a grin splitting her face as she returned the Hat with a "Yesssssss!". She leapt down, almost tripping as she bolted to the Yellow and black table, enveloped into the middle of one side by two girls who looked very much like they could be older sisters.
A handful more names were called before Thomas realised they would be reaching E soon. For a rare moment in his life he wasn't worrying about the way people would respond to his surname, thinking instead of what House he really wanted to be in. True, it would make things so much easier with Gally if he was placed with him. A sort of loyalty, if you will. Something in common might make his step-brother go easier on him. Then again, he didn't know if he could achieve the whole dignified and cultured air that House seemed to exude, maybe if he-
"Thomas Edison."
His heart hammered and for a moment he couldn't move. Minho nudged him encouragingly, and with a quick glance at his friend he made his way forward. He could feel the burning of thousands of eyes, and the heavy anticipation in the air made it hard to take a proper breath. The stool felt like it was miles away, and his heart raced faster the closer he got. Just when he was starting to worry he would pass out before he ever got there, his fingertips reached out for the worn wood top. He swallowed, his mouth dry as he twisted, seating himself. His fingers fidgeted with his sleeve, and he could feel his face heating up as he faced the sea of faces.
The Hat settled on his head, and the movement of it shifting, even though he'd expected it, still surprised him, making him uneasy. His mind raced. What House? What House?
What House, eh?
The voice might have been spoken in his ear, or come from his head, Thomas couldn't be sure. His stomach roiled as he worried and waited.
Gally's in Slytherin. Gally's in Slytherin.
Yes indeed. I put him there myself. You're wondering if you belong there too.
Thomas swallowed again, biting the inside of his cheek. Hie eyes sought Minho, but landed on Newt instead. The smaller boy was staring at him intently, and when Thomas caught his eye he smiled, causing Thomas to miraculously calm down enough to think straight. With his eyes locked in Newt's, he spoke to the Hat in his head.
It might make him nicer.
You have so much potential that would be thrown away in Slytherin.
But-
If you really want to, then go ahead, but i would advise otherwise. Gally is Gally either way. You may be disappointed with the results of such a choice. You'd be so much more suited in-
Wait!
You should take my advice. You may find yourself happier elsewhere.
Thomas broke Newt's gaze to look at Gally, who was staring at him intently. He tried to communicate, to ask with his eyes a question he couldn't even word. Gally surprised Thomas for the second time that day. He twisted his lips, and then, as though he knew what Thomas was asking and after glancing to either side to make sure he wasn't being seen, he smiled a proper smile, his expression almost humoured as he tipped his head, jerking it towards the other tables. Thomas felt himself relax.
Okay. Okay.
If you're sureā¦
Before he could answer the Hat straightened up and its voice filled the Hall from flagstones to rafters.
"Get him a seat in Gryffindor!"
The declaration was met with a roaring of sound, a screaming clamour of whoops and calls and whistles, the loudest yet Thomas was sure. Such a loud House. He grinned at the Hat as it was lifted from his head. It seems it may have been right after all. From the crowd, Minho was clapping, and grinning like a lunatic. When Thomas looked for Newt, the other boy was smiling knowingly, nodding to Thomas as though to confirm he thought the right choice had been made. Thomas grinned back.
Sliding from the stool, he'd barely taken a step into the chaos before his robes began to change, a streak of glorious, loud red racing from each shoulder down to the hem and flooding the inside lining from collar to tails. As he strode towards his new family, Thomas grinned at the emblem appearing ver his heart, a vibrant golden and red lion prowling in a circle, head tipped back as though roaring before it settled in a rampant pose and went still.
He was greeted exuberantly by his Housemates, tugged and pushed in every direction at once as all within reach tried to hug him, shake his hand, ruffle his hair, knock his shoulder. He was flooded with a rush of pride and excitement, thanking anyone listening and grateful he had listened to the Hat. As the people around him, his Housemates, settled down and McGonagall continued, Thomas couldn't stop grinning, eagerly waiting through each name, applauding and cheering just as loudly as his Housemates had for him, when finally Minho's name was called.
"Minho Kakadashi."
He watched with baited breath as his friend strode forwards, and gave him a thumbs up as the Hat was put in place. Minho watched him nervously, and Thomas grinned brightly to reassure him.
"One more for the Birdcage, it's Ravenclaw!"
The noise again erupted, and Thomas rose to his feet, whooping and clapping. Minho shot him a look that was apologetic, and Thomas simply gave him a thumbs up, vaulting the bench to clap his shoulder as Minho deliberately walked the long way to pass him. Thanks, he mouthed, and Thomas shook his head. As Minho passed and Thomas made his way back to his own table, his eyes inexplicably sought out Newt again.
A flush of anger rose unexpectedly as he saw the willowy figure being shoved by a bigger boy with black hair, but before he could say anything McGonagall has started to speak again. The bigger boy drifted away and Newt rubbed at his arm, looking less than surprised. Thomas frowned, waiting through the next dozen or so names, half-hoping Newt would be assigned to Gryffindor so that Thomas could stop idiots like that from hurting him.
The feeling surprised him, and once he'd noticed his reaction was odd, he was doused in that uncomfortable feeling again. He shook himself, trying to shake it off.
"Isaac Newton."
The moment had arrived. Thomas leaned forwards, tense in his seat as the tiny figure approached the stool. Thomas hadn't noticed till now, but Newt had a faint limp. Not really all that noticeable, just a slight sway. He watched intently as Newt scrambled up on the stool, having to bounce on his toes in an awkward sort of twist-bounce. Faint sniggers reached Thomas's ears and his eyes narrowed.
Now that was just mean.
His frown cleared, however, when those large dark eyes sought him out. Newt looked incredibly nervous, fidgeting tensely, his pale face worried. Thomas smiled gently, encouraging, and he saw Newt take a deep breath and close his eyes. He saw the way the slight boy jumped at what must have been the Hat's voice in his head. He watched Newt's expression moving anxiously, hoping.
Newt's eyes flew open and landed right on Thomas and he held his breath as the Hat opened its mouth to speak.
"Better make some room, Hufflepuff!"
Thomas was caught off-guard by a wave of disappointment, and he felt his face fall. It didn't last long because Newt was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and Thomas forced himself to grin, joining in the applause.
Newt slid down from the stool, almost losing his balance, his arms out to steady himself. There was a round of laughter, but Thomas didn't care because he was too busy watching the brief flash of pain that passed over Newt's face, before clearing into a grin.
The yellow flushed down the black of his robes, bright and cheerful just as Thomas had found him to be. He sighed to himself. It seemed the Hat was pretty good at what it did, really. It would still have been nice to have Newt in his House though.
As Newt passed the end of the Gryffindor table where Thomas was seated, the Gryffindor leaned as far out from the table as he could, reaching out his hand. Newt laughed brightly as he completed the high-five, his eyes dancing with mirth in his flushed and excited face. Thomas grinned, rewarded with that smile as a flash of affection flickered in his chest. He sat back, watching Newt being welcomed into his new House with an enthusiasm that actually outstripped the way the Gryffindors had accepted Thomas himself.
He grinned. Gally had mentioned Hufflepuff a few times, always in a sneering and condescending manner, and although he wholly disagreed with Gally's opinions, the idea he had mentioned that they were all friendly and close rang true. Thomas was pleased. Newt had looked so lonely on the train, and on his own in the huddle of first years, but had been so friendly and cheerful when Thomas had visited his carriage. He was glad that Newt would have a whole House of potential friends.
