Outsider Chronicles: Soul in Red
A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. On the other hand, there are plenty of skills I can pick up in this world to make sure that I don't end up dead in a ditch. This is gonna be fun!
And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
Hogsmead Station was dark and slightly chilly as we made our way off the train among our fellow students. The new crop of Firsties quickly started to congregate in one area, looking around nervously. Fortunately, Hagrid arrived before some of the more nervus looking students could work themselves into a state.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads, his eyes scanning the gathering of shivering shrimps before him.
"C'mon, follow me," he said, "Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Honestly, it wasn't to bad though, no worse than some of the paths around where I grew up the first time through. It was pitch black though, so that made keeping ones footing a tad hard. Nobody spoke much, being more interested in not slipping over. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!" and I can honestly admit that I was among them. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time in person was, pardon the pun, magical. It truly did look like the sort of place that magic was made. Hagrid gave us a couple of moments to take in the gorgeous sight before shepherding us into the boats at the waters edge. I ended up in one with Ron, Neville and Hermione. Once we reached the other side, Hagrid lead us up a long flight of stone steps to where Professor Mcgonagall was waiting for us.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, indicating to us with a huge wave of a hand.
"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here," said the Transfiguration Teacher, before turning to us, "Welcome to Hogwarts. 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 rule breaking 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 Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose, before turning and vanishing into the Great Hall, leaving us to talk amongst ourselves. I mostly ignored the buzz of chatter between my classmates in favour of regulating my breathing. Despite knowing what was coming, I was nervous. I could happily ham it up with the best of them, but the idea of standing up in front of who knows how many young people, all of whom knew my name and face and already had unreasonable expectations of me was more than a little intimidating. I even managed to ignore the ghosts as they floated through talking loudly. It took Mcgonagall re entering the room and Neville poking me in the side to snap me out of it.
"We're ready for you now," said Mcgonagall.
She lead us through the doors and into the Great Hall which, I have to admit, took my breath away, despite the fact I knew what to expect. As with the first view of Hogwarts, there was just something about the magnificent room that simply could not be replicated by Hollywood.
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, tables laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting in front of the four massive hourglasses that served to count the house points. Professor McGonagall led us straight up towards the head of the hall, in full view of everyone else, hundreds of faces staring at us, shining like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, we reached the head of the room where the Sorting Hat sat on the four-legged stool, looking just as frayed and dirty as I was expecting. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched and a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and 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 Gryffindors 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 whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song and bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.
"Told you," I muttered, earning myself a glare from Ron.
Professor McGonagall 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. Their was a moment's pause, before...
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry 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. The Sorting continued in this vein, with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis ending up in Slytherin before Hermione's name was called. Then things got...interesting.
The moment the hat touched her hair, it perked up and looked rather surprised. A moment later, it seemed to grin and opened its brim.
"SLYTHERIN!"
That went over about as well as you'd expect.
"WHAT?!" roared someone from the Slytherin table, "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! SHES A...MUGGLEBORN!"
It was clear from his slight hesitation that he wanted to say something else, but restrained himself.
"You are quite correct Mr Avery," said the Hat, turning on a stunned looking Hermione's head, "However, despite the common beliefs, pure blood is not actually a necessity to get into Slytherin and Miss Granger here is the single most well qualified individual to enter Slytherin in nearly a century."
He fell silent for a moment, before Hermione nodded and stood, removing the hat and heading over to join her new table. Naturally, she ended up being glared at, but a few people seemed more intrigued than annoyed.
With that out of the way, the Sorting continued and eventually reached Neville.
"GRYFFINDOR."
Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Then, at last...
"Potter, Harry!"
I stepped forward, ignoring the whispers that suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The last thing I saw before the hat dropped over my eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at me. Next second I was looking at the black inside of the hat. For a moment there was silence. Then…
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
That was shouted out to the entire hall if the muttered reactions were anything to go by.
"Found something interesting?" I thought.
"I...what...how…?"
"Not a clue," I said, "But if you tell anyone…"
The hat shivered on my head as he picked up on what I had in mind for him.
"Oh don't worry Mr...Potter I suppose since thats who you are now, I am bound to keep any secrets I find in a student's mind. Hmm, this is fascinating and rather horrifying stuff. I assume you intend to do what you can to avert some of these disasters?"
I snorted.
"That'll depend entirely on the sheeple," I said, "If they annoy me to much I'll leave them to their fate and bugger off to Japan or something."
"Albus won't like that," said the Hat.
"He can suck a fat one," I said, "I could care less what that crusty old man wants. If he wants Riddle dealt with, he can damn well do it himself."
The Hat chuckled.
"I have a feeling that you're going to do a real number on the status quo," it said, "Now, lets get you sorted. I admit, I expected to have some trouble with you, but frankly, this is easy. Just like Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom, you are very much the sort of person the Founders would love. True, your a little less qualified than them, but even so, you're perfect for RAVENCLAW!"
The table in blue immediately erupted into cheers as I stood and moved over to join them, ignoring the howls of disappointment from the Lions and the strange look I was getting from Dumbledore. I absently returned an older boys handshake as I sat down in a free seat and glanced up at the Head table. As I did, I met Dumbledores eyes without meaning to. Before I could break eye contact, Dumbledore jerked slightly and looked away, rubbing his eyes. I blinked. I didn't have anything in place that could get that kind of reaction. I shrugged off the curiosity for now in favor of dinner. I could deal with Dumbledores apparent inability to read my mind later. Right now I was more interested in filling my belly.
Eventually, the food faded away and Dumbledore stood to do his announcements. Don't go in the Forbidden Forest, no magic in the halls, certain death, etc, before having us sing the school song. I did to the tune of Still Alive. No idea why, it just seemed appropriate. With the torture to our eardrums done, we were sent off to bed like good little children.
It took surprisingly little time to reach Ravenclaw tower and the prefect turned to face the gaggle of first years following her.
"Unlike the other Houses, our Common Room doesn't have a password," she said, "Instead, to get in, you must answer a riddle. If you can't get the answer, you'll need to wait until someone comes along who can."
She turned and knocked on the door. The knocker animated and spoke in a smooth, feminine voice.
"What herb cures all ailments?" it asked.
"Thyme," I said before anyone else could say a thing.
"Correct young Warrior," said the knocker and the door swung open.
A few people shot me curious looks as we trooped inside, but mostly everyone just wanted to go to bed. The common room was pretty much what I was expecting, a round tower room with a large number of study desks and bookshelves, a statue of a woman who could only be Ravenclaw in an alcove against one wall and a number of comfy looking blue armchairs near the fire. The room was painted in cheery blues and the wood was a soft looking white colour. Above the fireplace was a painting of a beautiful woman with tanned skin, blue eyes and a nasty looking scar over one eye sat at a table in what looked like a bar with a map pinned to the table with a pair of daggers in front of her. She had long, black hair tied back under a green bandana and was wearing simple chest bindings around her breasts, elbow pads, fingerless, leather gloves, dark green pants and was barefoot. A pair of sharp looking knives with curved blades were sheathed at her hips and black tribal tattoos and knife scars covered her visible skin. Compared with the elegant and comfortable room, the painting of the rough looking woman was glaringly out of place.
The woman in the painting looked up, as if sensing my gaze, and our eyes met. Despite the fact she was just paint on canvas, I couldn't stop myself from taking a step back under the intensity of her gaze and got the urge to check my pockets.
"Are you OK?"
I turned to see that everyone in the room was looking at me strangely.
"Y-yeah, fine," I said, "Um, who exactly is that?"
The perfect glanced at the painting and frowned.
"I have no idea," she said, "No one I've asked seems to know either and a few people have mentioned how creepy she can be. No one can remove it though, so we'll just have to put up with it."
"Is that a fact?" I muttered, eyeing the painting with new interest.
Now I was really curious. I wonder if anyone's ever just asked the painting who she was? Considering how lacking in logic Wizards tended to be, I suspected it was worth a try at least.
I yawned widely. However, that would have to wait for a bit. I was exhausted and was looking forwards to sinking into my bed.
That night, I would dream of fighting powerful monsters alongside my friends, along with intermittent flashes of red clothes and a glowing crystal in a void.
Hermione
Down in the dungeons, Hermione's night wasn't quite as peaceful. As you might expect, after Professor Snape had greeted everyone and layed down the law, she had found herself being targeted by the Pure Blood idiot faction in the Dungeon, intending to 'show the Mudblood her place'. She had responded by blasting the leader with the same bolt of energy she'd created by accident on the train.
Hermione knew how to read people, it was a talent that she'd always had and had been nurtured by the years of bullying at the hands of her peers and that talent had allowed her to deduce that most of the House didn't actually care that she was a Muggleborn and were just waiting to see if she was worth befriending. She needed to make a good showing to prove her strength to get the respect of those who were nutrail and the fear of those who were stupid enough to buy into the Pureblood dogma. That said, she was glad that the Slytherins got their own rooms.
"This is gonna blow," she groaned as she dropped onto her bed, "Why did I let the Hat talk me into this?"
"Oh, don't feel so down my dear, its not that bad!"
Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice and shot upright, her fingers groping for her notebook. However, she paused when she saw that the source of the voice had been the formally empty picture frame next to the door. The formally blank background of a map of the local area and an empty chair was now occupied by the occupant of the large painting above the fireplace in the Common Room lounging in the chair.
He was a rather handsome young man who, oddly enough, reminded her of Harry, despite the fact they looked nothing alike. Despite his young age, his hair was pure white and his eyes, behind round glasses, were bright green, not unlike her neighbours cat. Not helping the comparison with the feline was the catlike ears sticking out the top of his head and long, fluffy tail that was waving lazally below the chair from under his maroon robes. A large, leather bound book was hanging from his belt in a specially made holster.
Hermione had read a little about the Miqo'te, the cat-like race that worshiped the sun and moon and held a great deal of respect in ancient magical society. Of course, these days they had a lot less respect and tended to be regulated to the shady side of life, which didn't help their reputations. Considering their reputation and the reputation of Slytherin house, seeing a painting of one in the House common room was rather a shock.
"Um, who are you?" asked Hermione.
"Ah, such funny things names," said the Miqo'te, "They have so much power to change things and shape the world. You may call me K'rhid Tia for now."
"Thats not your real name, is it?" asked Hermione.
"Actually, it is," said K'rhid with a grin that showed off his fangs, "However, I do have another name that you might recognize. I'll keep that to myself for now thought."
Hermione sighed. This was going to be...interesting.
"Alright, what do you want?" she asked.
K'rhid's smile vanished and he lent forwards a rather odd glint in his eye.
"That was an impressive trick you pulled off in the Common room," he said, "The spell was a little sloppy, but impressive for someone who only recently started studying Arcanium. Tell me, how long have you been studying the art?"
"I only found out about it this morning," said Hermione.
K'rhid's eyebrows shot up.
"Really?" he asked, "My, your talent is incredible! The fundamental basics of Arcanium are simple enough to grasp, but to be able to create even a basic Grimoire and cast a spell, even one as simple as Ruin after a single day's study...the last person to manage that was, well, me!"
Hermione blushed at the unexpected complement.
"Um, thanks," she said.
"So tell me Miss Granger," said K'rhid, his eyes sparkling enough to make Dumbledore feel inadequate, "How would you like to learn what an Arcanist can really do? I have no doubt that someone with your talent could go far with just books, but with a teacher…? You could become the single greatest Arcanist ever to live!"
Hermione didn't even have to think about it.
"When do we start?" she asked.
And done. Phew, that was a pain in the arse to finish! Oh well, its done now.
I was tempted to add in a scene with Neville, but I decided to hold off on that for a short while.
Hmm, I wonder what relevance the paintings have. As if you can't figure it out! I bet you can also figure out why I had Hermione end up in Slytherin, right? It'll make for some interesting chaos, thats for damn sure!
Anyway, once again I find myself unable to come up with anything witty, so I'll just sign out. Don't forget to leave a review on the way out!