Chapter 24
Ekans slowly walked up the steps to the stool.
She noticed how Professor McGonagall took a few steps backwards, as if putting a few inches between them would stop her from being hurt. Ekans kept her eyes on Dumbledore, who looked at her with a mixture of panic and fear. The greasy guy's black eye's kept on flicking from her to Dumbledore.
Something was definitely wrong here - Severus thought to himself. He had never seen either of his colleges so afraid before.
She cast Minerva a disgusted look. Was she trying to draw attention to herself or something? It was common sense that even Ekans couldn't hope to win if she attacked either of them in front of the whole school.
She sat down. Glaring moodily at the doors. Let's just get this over.
Shaking, Minerva slowly began to lower the hat pausing every now and then; afraid to drop it and afraid to touch her.
When Ekans eventually felt the heavy, leathery weight of the hat push down onto her head, the whole school had already put two and two together and figured out that something was wrong. A few murmurs drifted up from the tables, curling through the air like mist.
Wonderful. There went Ekans' plan to mingle like a perfectly normal student.
Ekans blinked and continued her glaring. How immature, did none of these people know it was rude to stare let alone whisper at the table.
"Well, well, well," The sorting hat began in it's raspy voice which sounded rather like someone had sand-papered the insides of their throat, "I never expected you to come along. Marvolo's little sister, am I right."
Ekans smiled to herself and chucked darkly. Any thought that this was a coincidence should have vanished from their wrinkly old heads now.
The sorting hat waited for the signal. For the unfolding of this child's destiny. The unravelling of one of the four words in it's mind like spilt paint on a fresh canvas; Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Slytherin.
Nothing happened.
It waited, flicking absent mindedly through the child mind and froze.
There was nothing.
It looked again. Flicking through important memories as it hoped desperately that this was not what it thought.
But there was no denying it.
There was no secure destiny for this child. No solid brick road for then to walk. The sorting hat, for the first time since it's creation, had to chose by itself which path to set the child on.
And for the first time it was silent. The silence itself was deafening, suffocating even. Every second that was sliced away a reminder that this was not supposed to happen.
The sorting hat struggled to clear it's head as it evaluated this child's mind. Trying to find some sort of lead among the memories of darkness and death.
This child, if that was the word for it, could go into any of the houses and they would let a different path in each. There was the bravery of a Gryffindor, the knowledge of a Ravenclaw, the kindness of a Hufflepuff but... When the sorting hat imagined packing then off into one of these houses, they simply couldn't hope to expect anything good.
This child, had been raised to kill and hurt. They had seen too much death to have the hardened, unbroken innocence of the others. Also, the sorting hat felt this with the same grim knowledge that Ekans did, that war was coming. And this child couldn't die. They would change the wizarding world and for once, there was thanks in this mind. Someone who understood the tiredness of the sorting hat, to see so much, to hand out so many futures, and to never be thanked had come. And such a person could not go unnoticed.
Slowly, the sorting hat opened it's mouth and for the first time, it's mouth felt dry.
The whole school; both teachers and students, all lent in a little to hear what the sorting hat would say.
"The power of silence," Magnus whispered, afraid to break the quiet and cast a knowing glance at Galacian.
"Slytherin." The hat whispered, it's voice echoing around the hall.
And then words did form.
Thank you.
The hat smiled.
...
Ekans walked down to the Slytherin table. Every eye that watched her do so felt more like a needle pressing into her skin.
She sat down at the table. She did this as unceremoniously add provide but showy, people on either side of her moved away slightly, as if whatever it was that she'd done was contagious.
"That's polite!" Galacian commented sarcastically, "dumb whores."
The rest of the names were called out. But it did not go unnoticed that professor Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall were not as at ease as before.
It was being too bore Ekans. She just wanted it to be over.
As soon as the last one was sorted, Dumbledore stood up to make his speech as usual. A glass full of wine clenched in his hand. Though it did not go unnoticed that he was shaking.
"D-dear students," Severus rolled his eyes, not this crap again, "I am pleased to announce that anopther school," He accidentally glanced at the Slytherin table and had to take a large gulp of his wine, "year has began. This year Professor Gilderoy Lockhart has been chosen to be the dark arts teacher-" this was interrupted by squeals from some students and murderous glances from Snape- "As you have noticed this year we have a transfer student who has been transfered from home education, "his hands shaking so much that wine splashed out of his glass onto the satin tablecloth as he pointed with a quivering finger in the direction of the Slytherin table. Everyone turned to gape at Ekans who attempted to glare at everyone at the same time.
"I am sure that you will make them feel very welcome and may the feast begin." he finished his speech hurriedly and with simple flicks of his hands the food appeared on the plates. But perhaps it didn't look as delicious as it was supposed to.
Dumbledore grabbed McGonagall's hand and ran up the parting between the tables. Staying as far away as possible from the Slytherin table.
Ekans smiled to herself as mutters of worried conversations filled the air.
The taste of fear wasn't one she'd tasted for quite a while.
Even if it wasn't hers.