AN: Well, it seems like the interest in this story isn't really dying down. To be honest, I had thought about abandoning this story, but I looked back over it, and my passion seems to have returned. Please, my lovelies, lend me your suggestions, critizisms, and feedback, as I do take them into account when forging a new chapter. So, after a year of waiting, I won't keep you any longer. On with the show!

- Vincent Argeneau

Chapter 11: Diverging from the Path

As the great wooden doors of Hogwarts opened, Coline shielded her eyes from the candles' glare and made out a familiar figure standing in the doorway. Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat after meeting Coline's stare, and addressed the gathered children. "Welcome to Hogwarts, students. I am Professor McGonagall, and I will be teaching you all Transfiguration from your first day of class until your graduation in your seventh year. I am also the deputy-Headmistress, so should you have any concerns your prospective Head of House cannot manage, please come see me in my second floor office, or have your Head of House arrange an appointment. Now, please follow me in a two-by-two line to where you will be waiting until we are readyfor you to be sorted." Without further ado, professor McGonagall turned around smartly and made her way through the entrance hall, the students following like goslings after their mother.

Coline could hardly keep herself from turning her head backwards as they passed suits of armor, display cases, moving portraits of all things, banners, and tapestries. Hogwarts was every inch the wealthy king's home that Coline had always imagined the inside of a castle to be. She was suddenly very happy with the thick robe she was wearing over her clothing though, as the hallways were slightly drafty, especially so near the front doors. In short time, however, the group (conspicuously missing Hagrid) made their way to a small room that had one other exit, through which the cacophany of a great deal of teenagers could be heard.

Coline made light but nervous conversation with Hermione, Ron, and Neville so as to not think up with terrifying sorting tests like some of the other students she could hear. She opened her mouth to respond negatively to Ron's suggestion (the idea of fighting a troll to be sorted into a House was preposterous), when suddenly a small group of ghosts popped through the wall opposite the one the students would go through soon. A tiny, squeaked-out shriek and the thump of a child's body hitting the ground later, there was chaos as the muggleborns pushed past one another in their attempt to get out the door they'd entered through. This caused two of the ghosts to chuckle.

"Heh, no need to be frightened children, we're only ghosts. Nothing scary about beings that can't physically interact with you! we're harmless!" Exclaimed the portly ghost in loose fitting, old-fashioned robes. "We're just passing though, as it were. Good luck with your sorting. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!"

A slender, male ghost with a goatee and ruffled collar harrumph-ed. "Harmless, he says. Tell that to Peeves. Though, I should hope some of you are worthy of being in Gryffindor this year."

With that, the ghosts phased through the door though with the students' voices could be heard. "Coline blinked after them, then turned toward where she had heard the thump. Most of the others in the room were wide-eyed and frightened, others were smirking and shaking their heads at the first group, and the rest were slightly disheveled and confused as to what had just happened. Hermione picked herself up off the floor, huffing in irritation. "Well really," she started, "how those idiots expected to trample over one another, it just..." Hermione huffed again and brushed some dust and some of the indignity of being knocked down off her skirt.

Hermione was still grumbling and giving some of the other students glares that promised retribution should they entertain even the merest notion of stampeding again, when the door opened and professor McGonagall motioned them through with a short warning. "It is time for you all to be sorted. Please line up single file in front of the staff desk, and do not even think of pulling any shenanigans." Seeing the greater majority of the students were sufficiently cowed, Minerva moved out of their way, and the children filed out, getting their first view of the Great Hall.

There was a collective 'ooh' from the first years at the sight before them, and some responsive sniggering from older students that had heard them. Before long though, the first years were lined up in front of the staff table, and a hush fell over the crowd of students. An old man carrying a stool and a tattered bit of cloth on a cushion came from a side room and set the cushion on top of the stool next to where professor McGonagall was standing with a rolled up scroll. She tucked the scroll under her arm and unrolled the cloth on top of the cushion, which turned out to be a hat, of all things.

And then the hat burst into song.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge by 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,

But 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 find your true friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afriad!

And don't get in a flap,

You're in safe hands (though I have none),

For I'm a thinking cap!"

Coline was in shock. The hat had just sang a song. Like a person. And they were supposed to put it on? Coline looked up and down the line, and even behind her at the students arranged at the four long tables. Somebody was pranking them. No possible way was a singing hat... no. An ugly singing hat going to determine somehow what character qualities she had that would define what house she was put in. Coline thought there was more chance of the Hat giving her lice than that happening.

Coline snapped out of her reverie as professor McGonagall finished speaking. "...come up to the stool, and I will place the Hat on your head. It will then determine which House you will be placed in. Please keep in mind that your House will be much like your family. It is where you will spend the majority of your free time, where you will study the most, and where you will sleep. Your diligence and classwork, or lack thereof," the professor shot a glance at a pair of identical redheads who waved merrily at her, causing her to scowl, "will, respectively, gain or lose points for your House. We will begin now."

Coline listened as the names were called. It seemed that a large amount of students were being sent to Hufflepuff, but by the time the elderly woman had made her way to "Granger, Hermione!", five students had been sent to Gryffindor, and a couple each had gone to Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The Hat took about a minute before delaring Hermione a Gryffindor. Neville was also sorted into Gryffindor, but was so excited he'd taken the Hat with him to the table in his haste to get a seat across from Hermione and had had to trot back embarassedly to professor McGonagall to give it back to her.

Only a few other sortings were of interest to Coline, one being an aristocratic blonde boy she'd seen looking up and down the line a few times. The hat hadn't even had to touch his head before it screamed out "SLYTHERIN!" Draco Malfoy sauntered toward the green and silver table, a smug expresion across his face. The other two were "Patil, Padma!", and "Patil, Parvati!". Interestingly, despite being twins, they were sent to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively. But Coline put those thoughts out of her mind as she knew she would be called shortly. Then, something happened that she'd half expected and half hoped could be avoided.

"Potter, Harry!"

There was silence in the hall. The hushed conversations from before were entirely gone as students looked up and down the line, craning their necks for a sight of the Boy-Who-Lived. A few moments passed, then, pursing her lips, the professor called out again "Potter, Harry! Please come forward!" Coline remained steadfastly in place. After about a minute, professor McGonagall glared at Coline. Coline maintained eye contact, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Sighing, professor McGonagall strode to the Headmaster and had a whispered debate with him, which the students noticed caused a frown to settle on his normally jovial face. Dumbledore silenced her with a sharp cutting motion of his hand and dismised her back to the podium.

The students looked on in confusion as professor McGonagall cleared her throat and muttered something unintelligable. Then, looking at the scroll in her hand, then to Coline - who raised her eyebrow again with a look that said I dare you to say that name one more time – then back to the scroll, shook her head and said in a loud, exaggerated voice "Potter, Coline!", and returned to glaring pointedly at the girl in question. Coline, to her credit, put her most winning smile on her face, and skipped up to the stool, hearing the faint chucking of the headmaster before all noise was muffled by the ratty hat being placed on her head roughly.

'I am not ratty, thank you. I am well broken in.' Coline flinched at the aged, mascline voice in her head, wondering whether it was the Hat speaking to her. 'Yes, yes, you got that faster than some this year. Now, where to put... no! I will not give you lice, you little chit.' Coline's eyes widened, then narowed behind the cloth of the old cloth hat. 'And don't you try lecturing me on language. You are four hundred years too early to be lecturing me on anything, child. Now, quiet down as I do my job.' Coline felt a niggling in her mind, almost as if something were riffling through her head. It was an altogether unpleasant feeling.

After a few moments, the hat spoke again, this time in a more subdued voice. 'Ah, young lady, what a rich life you've led. How the founders would have loved to get their hands on a witch like you. But I am left with a dilemma, young one. You fit the criteria of two Houses above a third, but it is the third you seem set on joining. You are intelligent, and greatly so. Ravenclaw would put you in a position to put that mind to use in ways unimaginble to you at this moment in time. And you are loyal to a fault, as evidenced by your mental prods to join your friends, so Hufflepuff would fit, if not as well as Ravenclaw.' Coline shook her head at both options.

But I am here to set you on a course that will determine your academic future,' the sorting hat coninued. 'not pander to your yearning to be with friends. You could do well in Gryffindor, but I feel that you would be better placed in Ravenclaw. It would...' Coline clutched the sides of the stool with both hands and screwed her face up, willing the tattered old hat to bend to her wishes. In fact, she was concenrating so hard, she didn't hear the hat hollering at her until it yelled physically. "...FINE!" Coline relaxed. 'fine, you devil witch-child. If it will get me off your head, you'll go to' "GRYFFINDOR!"

Coline pulled the hat off her head and thew it back down on the stool triumphantly, then turned to head back to the tables to take her spot amongst the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor House. But she paused as she noticed all eyes in the Great Hall trained on her with varying degrees of shock, incredulity, curiosity, and anger on their faces. Coline squared her shoulders and strode purposefully to the Gryffindor table. As she sat down next to Hermione, professor McGonagall cleared her throat and anncounced the next first year.

Coline paid no attention until her heard "Weasley, Ronald!" Turning her head, she was able to see Ron grin as the the hat pronounced "GRYFFINDOR!" As Ron took his seat and the last name was called, Coline leaned over with a whispered congratulations. The four looked back up at the head table to watch the headmaster make the beginning-of-term announcements. Coline wondered why a forest would be off limits, then raised her eyebrow at the warning to stay away from the third-floor corridor.

After the headmaster finished his speech and the students sang the school song (which Coline thought was completely absurd), Dumbledore waved his hand across the room horizontally and the plates and platters in front of the students were magically laden with the most delicious looking food coline had ever seen. So good did it look, she was too busy asking for different dishes to take a sampling of to notice a distinctly sarcastic clearing of the throat behind her. It wasn't until she looked over at Neville to ask for the salad and noticed his pale, frightened expression looking at something behind her, that she was made aware of a rather imposing person standing behind her to her right.

"I see you've finally deigned to honor me with your attention, miss Potter," said the pale, greasy black-haired man behind her. "Let us hope your attention is better focused in your classes." Reaching into his billowing, but still rather tight-fitting robes, he pulled out a small, stiff leather container with a silver buckle holding down a top flap in the front, and held it out to Coline. With a small roll of his eyes, he introduced himself.

"My name is Professor Snape, and I am the resident potions master." Shaking the pouch in his hand then setting it next to Coline, he continued, "While it may have escaped your knowledge, the Headmaster was in contact your guardian, and I was provided samples of your... medications. This is a one month's supply of an adequate substitute for your muggle prescriptions. Instructions are written on parchment inside, along with the neccessary equipment to administer doses yourself.

Madame Pomfrey, the medi-witch on campus, has informed my that you are to keep a journal, which is also included, to take down your times of consumption, and should you experience any complications, you should report to her immediately. Do you understand?" Coline nodded, nonplussed at the evidently rude teacher, looked down to the pouch, then turned back to thank professor Snape, when she was interrupted before she could even begin.

Sneering slightly, Snape spat out "These potions took me nearly a month to create, and you should be grateful that they are even ready for the beginning of term. To the best of your likely miniscule ability, attempt to not destroy or misplace these, and report to Madame Pomfrey should you require more." Snape then turned on his heel and strode away.

Coline blinked thrice at the empty space professor Snape had just occupied, then narrowed her eyes at the unfriendly man's back. She scowled lightly, then decided she would deal with the situation later. Turning back to her friends, she stated, "Well, that man wasn't very polite." and finished filling her plate. The Gryffindors around her stared incredulously at her, not having words to explain what just happened.

Coline, finished filling her plate, and having poured what she assumed was an exotic fruit drink into her goblet, turned her attention to the clutch-purse sized pouch in front of her. She unclasped the buckle, and regarded the contents. In the back of the pouch was a small pocket containing a leather-bound journal with a piece of parchment sticking out of the top. In the front were two corked glass bottles, one filled with a clear, pale blue liquid labelled 'female hormone', and the other filled with a opaque white liquid labelled ' male hormone blocker'. These two bottles were flanked by a glass and rubber pipette on either side.

Pulling the loose parchment out of the journal, Coline unfolded it and read the instructions, thich turned out to be very brief:

Warnings:

Under no circumstances should these two substances make undiluted contact with each other or any part of the body.

Each dropper should be assigned to a bottle. Do not use one dropper for both bottles.

Directions:

Your potions should be administered in two drop doses each to your first morning and evening beverages. And complications, wrongly administered doses, or missed doses should be reported to Madame Pomfrey.

And that was it. Coline understood the instructions, and tucked them into the back of the journal while pulling out the two bottles. She added the two potions to her drink, mixed them in with her spoon, and downed the beverage as quickly as she could while still being polite at the dinner table, vaguely noting the drink tasted strongly of pumpkin. As she poured another drink and put her medications away, Neville asked the question all of Coline's friends, and really, all of Gryffindor were thinking; "You take long-term potions? Why?" Coline looked at Neville with a raised eyebrow. "You remember the conversation we had on the train?" Neville nodded slowly. "That's why." She said. "My body requires the medications to develop properly. I'll fill you all in more later, when the conversation won't be so public."

That said, Coline enjoyed her dinner and made small talk with the Gryffindors, pointedly ignoring any and all questions about being Harry Potter.