Let me just say that I haven't ever published my writing before because I'm my own worst critic and often embarrass myself. That out of the way, I wrote a sorting hat song for this chapter and your guys' support about the other chapters (plus my beta, NinjaDevil2000, and her kind words) is making me feel confident enough to post it.
Hermione made her way up the marble steps and, splitting off from her peers, went into the antechamber across the hall. The room was already filled with first years, all awaiting instruction.
"Are they ready for us?" One of the first years asked in a high voice. She turned to look for the girl who asked the question, but found it was a young boy instead.
She smiled. "No, you'll know when it's time."
When she remained standing there, the first years looked at her, puzzled. "Are we in trouble?" Another student asked.
"You're not in trouble," she assured them, "I'm being resorted." Being in this room once again made that statement feel more real.
They looked around at each other, whispers breaking out among them. Several started to ask her pointed questions. They seemed to think that Hermione had done something bad and she had to be resorted as a punishment. She began to reassure that nobody else had ever been resorted before and that they would all be fine, but was cut short.
The door to the room opened and Professor Sprout walked in. She shot Hermione a look of pity before squeezing her way to the front of the overfilling room. Hushing the students, she addressed the crowd. "Hello! My name is Professor Sprout. In just a few moments, you will be sorted into one of the four Hogwarts houses. While you're here, your house will be your second family. Good behavior will earn points, while bad behavior will lose points. You'll learn more soon about the houses, but for now, they are as follows: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."
The young students began talking wildly, not allowing Professor Sprout to continue. Hermione felt bad for her. When McGonagall led the sorting ceremony, first years grew quiet after just looking at her. It seemed as though Sprout couldn't put off quite the same effect.
After several moments of chaos in the small room, a few students managed to shush most of their peers to silence.
"Now," Sprout raised her voice, "It's time, so if you would follow me, please." After getting to the door again, she walked out into the hallway and into the Great Hall.
As soon as the doors opened and the entire school was staring at them, Hermione realized just how big of a height difference there was between her and the first years. Once everyone realized she was among the group, whispers broke out all around the hall as the other students tried to guess what was going on. It felt as though all the blood in Hermione's body rushed to her cheeks. She tried to hide her face within her hair but was unsuccessful.
Once they were gathered in front of the staff, McGonagall called for silence.
The Sorting Hat broke out in song, not unlike years past.
Several thousand years ago
came four minds together as one
and founded a school just for fun.
Now here I am, where do you belong?
Try me on, never have I been wrong.
So which will it be?
With four houses as possibilities:
Those Gryffindors from wild moor,
Fought bravely in the wizarding war.
Those of undying valor and passion,
Would do well in red and gold fashion.
Then there's brilliant Ravenclaws from the glen.
They came to the aid of others again and again.
Those who value learning and wit,
Would do best in the blue and bronze outfit.
Loyal Hufflepuffs from the valley,
Were certainly there for the war finale.
If you yourself are tenacious and fair,
Yellow and black are the colors to wear.
Then came along Slytherin from fen.
Their subtle cunning became essential once again.
Those of resourcefulness and sly,
Will tomorrow be wearing a green and silver tie.
In whatever house you find your clique,
Branch out. It's other houses you should seek.
It's time to smooth things over,
You should be laughing together, growing closer.
So which house will it be?
Try me on and we will see!
After the Hat was finished, Sprout stepped forward. "In a few moments, I will call your name and you will come sit on the stool. I'll place the sorting hat on your head, it will sort you, and then you'll join your house table."
Hermione could feel the first years trembling all around her, and hoped she was still. She felt just as nervous.
"Gail Abbott"
The young boy walked up the steps to the sorting hat and was sorted into Hufflepuff. He ran off to sit with his sister, Hannah.
Tessa Bennett was sorted into Gryffindor and Hermione tuned out.
Standing here in anticipation for the sorting, Hermione felt like she was 11 years old again. Was a change in heritage really worth being resorted? Why did Dumbledore feel this was necessary? She still had the same personality and personal values, so what was this going to prove?
The rest of the sortings went by ordinarily, quite a few of them being sorted into Ravenclaw. Once Lance Whitman had been sorted, and Hermione was the only one left, Sprout called her up.
"Hermione. . . Nott."
If the hall was loud before, it was roaring by this point. Not only was Hermione being resorted, but now she was a Nott.
"What if I refuse?" she asked McGonagall, who stood at the podium with a deep look of pity. She almost had to yell to be heard over the students at this point.
"Hermione. . . if you are not resorted, I'm afraid you cannot attend Hogwarts."
She still hesitated, but couldn't deny herself the ability to take her N.E.W.T.s and become a healer. Giving in at last, she made her way to the stool.
Once the hat was on her head, the crowd fell into silence in anticipation. Her face became red with all the attentive eyes on her. Was this what Harry felt like first year? The pressure was incredible.
Well, well, well, the Sorting Hat cooed in her mind, something tells me you're quite different this time around. I've sorted all the Notts into Slytherin, you know.
-No! She thought back, Please, just put me back into Gryffindor. I'll do anything.
Anything? Well that sounds quite ambitious of you. And- placed into Slytherin, I have no doubt your ambition will come in handy.
Please, she begged.
You sure showed quite a bit of resourcefulness last year, Miss Nott. And casting a memory charm on your own parents? Are you sure you belong in Gryffindor? The Sorting Hat asked her.
She had to think quickly. If you sort me into any other house than Gryffindor, you're admitting to being wrong the first time. The Sorting Hat prided itself on always being a good judge of personality and character.
Manipulation. Hmmm. Clever manipulation, at that.
There was nothing she could do to change the hat's mind. It had already been made up. Everything she was thinking was working against her.
"SLYTHERIN," the hat shouted.
The table on the far left erupted into applause, but didn't overshadow the rest of the hall, which was booing. Of course there were some students that weren't, namely a few from Gryffindor, but it looked like she was on her own from now on. Voldemort was defeated, but prejudice still existed.
She turned around slowly, wanting to see McGonagall's face. Her former head of house approached her, taking out her wand. McGonagall flicked her wand toward the younger girl's clothing and Hermione looked down to see the colors green and silver, as well as a snake on her house badge. She slowly looked up, taking in the older woman's features, which held a sad gaze. On wobbly legs, Hermione feigned confidence and walked to her new table.
In the shock of everything, she forgot her anger toward Theo and collapsed on the seat next to him.
She waited until the room calmed down. "A couple start of term notices," McGonagall announced, "We have a few new teachers I'd like to introduce. Taking over for Transfiguration will be Professor Spalding."
An older man with tired eyes struggled to stand up, but managed. His long grey-streaked hair was tied back in a ponytail to reveal his kind features. He waved to the students and sat back down.
"This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, and good friend of mine, Professor Platt."
A young, rather attractive man stood up next to Professor Slughorn and nodded at the students, making half the girls swoon. He had rather angular features, softened by shaggy brown hair and stubble.
"Alchemy is being brought back to the schedule by popular demand. For seventh years taking this class, Professor Bell will be your instructor." She nodded toward the young woman to her right.
Professor Bell didn't stand up, but waved to the students. Her resemblance to Katie Bell was undeniable and Hermione wondered whether they were sisters or of a different relation.
"Okay! Let the feast begin," McGonagall spoke into the hall. The plates along the centers of the tables filled with food.
Hermione was in a daze and stared at her empty plate. How could this have happened?
"Hermione," Theo nudged her. "You need to eat."
"Huh?" She looked up. "Oh." She put some food on her plate and ate in silence.
"Hi," the dark, pretty witch in front of her said, "I'm Daphne Greengrass. Welcome to Slytherin."
Hermione barely looked up, as she was still absorbed in her own thoughts, which were running wild.
"Later, Daphne," Theo told her out of the corner of his mouth.
Why did I have to be resorted? she thought to herself. I'm still Hermione. I still have the same personality.
Despite what the Sorting Hat said to her, she didn't see any of her traits as being particularly Slytherin-like. Resourceful? She only did what she had to while on the run with Ron and Harry. Ambitious? She just liked to put her best effort forward. Manipulative? Well. . . besides blackmailing Rita Skeeter, she wasn't that manipulative.
She ate the rest of her meal without any of the other Slytherins trying to engage her in conversation. Once she finished dessert, Draco stood up from the table and walked toward the first year students. After exchanging a few words with that side of the table, the young students stood up and followed him. He then approached Hermione.
"I'm sorry, you may not be a first year, but you're a part of this group."
Hermione wordlessly stood and joined the first year students. Draco led them out into the entrance hall and rather than take the steps going up into the castle as she normally would, she descended into the dungeons with the group.
Draco led them past the Potions classroom and around a few corners. Eventually, he stood outside a stretch of brick wall. "This is where you will enter the common room. All you have to do is say the password, which is changed weekly."
He looked at the wall. "Basilisk."
The bricks slowly receded until an archway was formed. Through it, Hermione saw, was a dark and dreary room compared to the Gryffindor common room. They entered and she got a good look around.
The room was cast in a green glow from the green lamps hanging around the ceiling from chains. Stone walls surrounded the room on three sides, but the furthest wall was thick glass and looked out into the Black Lake. Curved, expensive green and silver chairs and sofas sat around the room, but didn't do much to make it feel comfortable. Tapestries hung around the walls, featuring shrewd looking wizards and witches. The only aspect of the room that resembled Gryffindor tower was the fireplace, which had an elaborately carved mantelpiece and cast green flames.
Draco stepped into the room and told everyone to sit down. The first years seemed to be staring at the surroundings with as much fear as Hermione, which didn't do anything to calm her down.
Over the course of the next ten minutes, the rest of the Slytherins had came into the room and gathered around the first years. This definitely wasn't a part of Gryffindor tradition, so Hermione was wracked with anticipation.
"Everyone here?" Draco asked. Blaise Zabini nodded. "Okay. Listen up, everyone. I'm sure you noticed the entire school booing at you?"
The young students nodded.
"Well, you don't need to worry about them. We Slytherins protect our own."
One of the newly-sorted Slytherin girls was close to tears. "Why would they boo at us?" she blubbered. Pansy Parkinson rushed over and put a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Because there have been some bad people in the past who have been Slytherins," he told her softly.
Hermione was wildly impressed with the way Draco was handling the first year students.
"Now, if any of you are bullied or taunted by another house, let us know. We have all gone through it."
The first years nodded again, some silently crying. Hermione imagined what it would be like to go to a completely unfamiliar school and be instantly hated by everyone for something you couldn't control. Honestly, she hadn't given it much thought before.
"Are there any other questions?" Draco questioned. When there were none, he led the boys to their dorms while Pansy led the girls, still supporting the one crying.
Hermione joined the group and found her room, which she soon learned she shared with Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, and Millicent.
The only differences between her room in the dungeons and the room in Gryffindor tower were the colors and lack of windows. While the red hangings on her four poster bed invited her in, the green that now surrounded her mattress made it feel cold. She sat down on the bed anyway, too tired to transfigure the colors.
"I had no idea you guys talked to first years on the first day about bullying," she admitted, "That's messed up you have to do that."
"Yeah, well," Pansy said from her own bed, "We all had to go through it. We survived"
Millicent scoffed from across the room, half dressed in her pajamas. "Some of us better than others, though, right?"
Pansy shot her a venomous look. "I'll admit it. I was the first year crying on our first day, but what can I say? The dungeons are depressing."
All the girls agreed to that, which certainly made Hermione feel better. She lay her head on the pillow and quickly fell asleep without bothering to get ready for bed, despite being in unfamiliar surroundings.