Part I: Reticent

Chapter I: In Which Corinna Gets Sorted

Corinna Crouch looked forward to going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had been counting down the days in her plain calendar since she received her letter in the beginning of July. It was all a whirlwind of getting her new books and supplies. She, of course, lingered at Eeylops Owl Emporium, but her father gave a firm no on that.

"You can just use the school owls," Mr. Crouch said in slight annoyance. He had only asked for the morning off as he needed to sit in a few important meetings that afternoon. "Who would you need to contact besides me?"

Mr. Crouch asked this as a test. Corinna caught on quickly whenever this happened. "No one," she said simply, but she stilled dreamed about having an owl of her own. She thought the snowy one sleeping near the door was beautiful.

"That's what I thought," he said, and it was as if he had taken a spoon and scooped out Corinna's heart. "You have all the books? Potion supplies?"

"What about my robes?" asked Corinna, looking forward to going to Madam Malkin's. She looked forward to all of it, even the mundane. It was not very often she left the house, so each time it happened it was a bit of an adventure.

"Your robes are fine," said Mr. Crouch dismissively as he looked over the file in his hands, expecting everyone else to dodge around him in the narrow alley. Corinna apologized on behalf of him, not wanting people to feel any ill will of them. "You just need black ones anyway, which is all you have."

"It's all you would let me have," Corinna muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" asked Mr. Crouch sharply. Guess he was paying attention more than Corinna expected.

"Nothing," she added quickly. "Are we going to get my wand now?"

They went to Ollivander's. The only place, according to Mr. Crouch, that was worth getting a wand. Corinna was most nervous about this part of the journey. Ollivander dotted over her as he took measurements and asked her questions like which was her wand arm and explaining what each wand was made with at its core.

"Try this," he suggested. "Walnut and phoenix feather, nine-and-a-half inches, flexible."

Corinna took the wand and waved it around, but before she could even complete the arch, Ollivander took it from her.

"Not quite, not quite," he muttered as he went about the shelves to look for another. "Chestnut with dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, firm."

It felt like Corinna tried a million different wands and she could feel Mr. Crouch growing impatient behind her. Finally, with a slight shake of his head, Ollivander grabbed another wand with a bit of apprehension. "Hawthorn with dragon heartstring, eleven-and-a-half inches, reasonably supple."

Corinna took the wand and immediately sparks flew from the tip. "Oh, excellent," he said. "I would normally not give a hawthorn wand to an inexperienced witch or wizard, but it seems to be the perfect fit."

"Thanks," she mumbled, not quite sure how to interpret that one. It seemed that Ollivander wanted to say more, but Mr. Crouch was hurrying them along. He gave Ollivander the gold for the wand and they moved on.

After the morning spent at Diagon Alley, she was excited to tell Barty all about it. It wasn't one of his more lucid moments, so Corinna gave him a play-by-play without stopping or waiting for commentary as it was never going to happen.

Corinna kept talking, it was easier than looking at her brother. He could only not wear an invisibility cloak while in his room where the curtains are always drawn. Whenever she asked what was wrong with him, Mr. Crouch would simply say that he was sick and to quit asking so many questions. And to also never mention him outside of the house. No one can know that he was sick.

But she talked to him anyway. He was her only friend, after all.

Corinna talked and talked, moving on from the lackluster Diagon Alley onto the latest book she was reading. It was late in the afternoon when Winky apparated into the room. "Master Barty must rest, Mistress Corinna. Winky take him now."

And just like that, Corinna was alone, marking another day until she went to school.

August was only punctuated by various tutors that Mr. Crouch assigned to Corinna. She always went to their houses, as others were not allowed to visit Crouch Manor. It was mostly languages, and some of the tutors were muggle, and Corinna had to especially be well behaved during those lessons. She had a few with magical folks and one that Corinna always thought was odd for her to learn: occlumency.

September the first did not come fast enough. Not soon enough, Corinna was taking her trunk and school bag into King's Cross. She asked if it would be possible for Barty to go with them, but Mr. Crouch did not even grace the idea for even a moment. "What part of 'no one can know about him' do you not understand, Corinna?"

And that was it for that.

She was going through the station with only her father. He kept looking at the time even though they had plenty of time before the train was set to depart. It seemed that he was unable to get the whole morning like he had when they went to get her school supplies. Corinna tried not to let it show how much it bothered her.

They found the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten. There were other young witches and wizards who were eager to cross over to the other side, they just had to wait for the muggles to be distracted long enough for them to slip through. She shifted her weight uncomfortably as she watched a couple of students rush up and then disappear beyond the brick façade. Corinna never watched someone do that before, and she felt a slight shiver run down her spine. Before she could fully process what was happening, Mr. Crouch grabbed her arm and ushered her through the barrier. She blinked and it was over. She was on the platform with the scarlet steam engine, glistening with golden letters advertising the fact that it was the Hogwarts Express.

"I will see you for Christmas holidays," said Mr. Crouch easily. "Be careful what you say in letters home." With that, he Apparated away.

"Bye, I guess," Corinna muttered as she stared at the space her father used to occupy. She turned back to the train and stared at his magnificence. She woodenly stepped on and found the first unoccupied cabin. She struggled to get her trunk into the overheard. She put everything, save for her Potions textbook, above her and sat down on the bench. She opened it to the bookmarked page and tucked in.

It was only a few minutes later when there was a gentle knock on the glass door. Corrina looked up to see a bushy-hair girl and a confused-looking boy standing behind her. "Do you mind if we sit with you?" the girl asked, and immediately lit up when she noticed Corinna reading one of their textbooks. "Oh, our Potions text. I found that a very interesting read. I cannot wait to make some of the potions, but they will probably start us off on Wiggenweld."

Without even waiting for Corinna's confirmation, the girl sat down, and the boy shuffled in as well. For what it was, Corinna stood up to help them get their trunks secured. "I'm Corinna Crouch," she greeted them finally. "And you are?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she answered, sounding rather rehearsed. "And this is Neville Longbottom. Him and his grandmother helped me onto the platform. I was thankful since this is all so new to me and my parents."

Corinna paused as she looked over Hermione. "You're Muggle-born?"

"Is that what it's called?" asked Hermione, looking positively thrilled at the notion. She was so naïve that Corinna hoped that she never heard what some wizards call those with non-magical parents. She remembered her brother saying it a few times during his lucid moments, and she told him to not say that. "Isn't that fascinating? That someone without any magical lineage can be born with magic?"

"Sure," Corinna said, wondering if all the Muggle-borns were going to be like this. Would she be like this if she had no idea that she had magic coursing through her veins? Her magical lineage was something she had always known about. Pretty much the only thing that her father ever talked about with pride. They were Pureblood and should be proud of it, but Corinna did not see what the big deal was. It did not helped her brother in the slightest.

"Does that mean both your parents are wizards?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Corinna, feeling a tad awkward at the question. She did not know much about her mother since she was so young when Corinna died. She sometimes felt like she never even had a mother since her father did not speak much about her.

"What about your parents, Neville?" Hermione asked.

In response, he turned red in the face and Corinna decided to change the subject. That did not seem like anything he wanted to talk about.

"That's not typically something you go around asking people," Corinna told Hermione, something she wished she would have thought to say after Hermione asked her in the first place. "If people want you to know, they will tell you."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "So, which potion were you reading about?"

They went on about this as the train gave off one last whistle and started off away from the station. It was easy for Corinna to talk about potions. Although she was fascinated by all their subjects, she was drawn towards potion-making. She had even tried a potion she could make using the potions kit that was required, but it turned into a smoking, solidified mess in the bottom of her cauldron. Winky had to help her clean up the mess before Mr. Crouch got home.

The hours seemed to eat away, which was fine with Corinna. Hermione had read all their assigned texts from cover to cover and was more than willing to part with the knowledge, so Corinna just had to sit there and listen to the girl prattle on. It took the food trolley stopping at their compartment that they realized the time had gone on.

"Oh, my goodness," Hermione said as they were laden down with sweets from the trolley. "We should put on our robes. We should be there soon."

Neither Neville nor Corinna had a reason to dispute that, so they went along with it. They shrugged on their black robes and Neville began looking around wildly. "Where's Trevor?"

"Who's Trevor?" Corinna asked, looking confused.

"My toad," he explained. "Gran is going to kill me if I've already lost him."

Much to Corinna's annoyance, they agreed to split up and look for the toad. Corinna went down the train towards the caboose, asking various groups of people, knowing full well that she was now going to be known as the first year who asked everyone about some other kid's toad. All she hoped was that people understood that it was someone else's toad, not hers. Not that anyone cared, really. All anyone was really talking about how the boy who lived was on the train. It took her by surprise that she was, if the rumors were true, going to be in the same year as that boy who defeated the darkest but greatest wizard of the age.

The sky steadily grew darker as they approached Hogsmeade Station. She met Hermione and Neville back at their compartment, neither of them having any sort of luck with finding him.

The pulled into the station with the two girls reassuring Neville that they will find him in the castle, not that Corinna believed that unless there was some sort of magic involved. They took their trunks to the designated area where they would be taken to the castle when they heard someone calling for "firs' years."

Corinna did not expect to meet a giant. Well, he seemed like a giant of a man being twice as tall as any man and three times as wide. He had a happy, ruddy face underneath the bush of black hair as he called forth the first years.

She got separated from Neville and Hermione as she was ushered onto a boat with a couple of talkative girls. Corinna paid them no mind as they went around the bend and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came into view. It was even more breathtaking than she ever imagined with its spindling towers, glass lit up with an orange glow, and the castle so vast it was hard to take it all in at once.

One by one, they filed off the boats and made their way into the entrance hall surrounded by twinkling lights. They approached a stern looking woman, who seemed to survey them all with a critical eye as if she were determining who would be the ones to cause trouble already. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and Corinna immediately decided she was never going to cross this woman.

Corinna barely registered what was said after she mentioned the sorting. It was the only thing she was really dreading about coming to Hogwarts. As both her father and brother like to mention, they were a proud Slytherin household. Embedding the core beliefs of cunning and ambition should not have been something to have distaste over. Rather, it left a bitter taste in Corinna's mouth on what the house seemed to mean nowadays. But what was she to do: honor her family's legacy or find her own path? The problem being: where did she belong?

She did not even notice the professor leaving to check to see if the others were ready for the first years. Corinna was dragged by her reverie by some ferret-faced jerk talking loudly. "You wouldn't want to be seen with the wrong sort, would you?"

Even on her tiptoes, she was unable to see who the punk was talking to, since he was being flanked by a couple of human-shaped boulders. But she could not help but smirk when the boy he was talking to said, "I think I've gotten that sorted out for myself, thanks."

It seemed like the ferret boy wanted to say something else, but he was interrupted by Neville loudly shouting "Trevor!" just as Professor McGonagall returned to bring them into the Great Hall.

Corinna felt like her heart was lodged in her throat as she shuffled along with the other nervous first years, dreading what was to come. They all gathered towards the front where a stool sat with a shabby looking hat perched on it. The last thing she expected was the hat to open at one of the seams and start to sing. As she was at the edge of the group, she glanced over at those sitting at the nearest table. They seemed to watch the hat with disinterest, so it was something the article of clothing did often. Simply, she did not think there would be any more surprises when it came to the world she grew up in.

"When I call your name, you will sit the hat on top of your hat and you will be sorted into your houses." Professor McGonagall looked over a list. "Abbott, Hannah."

Corinna took in a sharp intake of breath. It was in alphabetical order. Oh, how she wished her last name started with something other than C. She became aware how she was running out of time. One by one, the students went up when called, all looking nervous at the prospect. Her heart really started to race once McGonagall had moved on from the B's and went down the short list of students whose surnames started with C.

"Crouch, Corinna."

It was a good thing that this happened before they ate dinner as Corinna felt like she was going to be sick. She had to push her way to the front, feeling like every eye in the Great Hall was on her and her alone. She sat down on the stool and looked down at the floor as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on top of her head. It slid down her eyes, obscuring the students in her peripheral.

The last Crouch. Corinna did not like how the hat said that into her ear, almost as if that was condemnation for what was to come. You are a difficult one. You would do well in Slytherin. Your family has been in that house for generations. But you don't seem to think so...

Her brows knit together as she tried to figure out the hat's words. Of course, she was dealing with an article of clothing, and an ugly one at that.

Watch what you call ugly, said the hat, and Corinna paled at the idea that this hat was somehow reading her mind! It knew all about the inner turmoil she was dealing with when it came to which house she was going to be in for the next seven years of her life.

But no matter. I've been called worse. I see it all in your head. A sharp tongue such as yours would do well with Slytherin where you can hone your cunning and ambition.

No, she thought desperately. She knew she should make her father proud, but that was far from what she wanted. She liked to stand up for what she believed in, even if she felt like she lacked the courage to do such things, such as how her father treated her brother and Winky.

Yes, yes, the hat continued, and Corinna felt as if she had been sitting there for hours, you do have courage within you, you just need to find your way to it. Gryffindor would help you with that, even if Slytherin would be a better choice given your true nature, no matter how much you want to deny it's there.

Is that what she was afraid of? Being just like her father? Cold and distant to his children, especially to Barty. If Slytherins turned out people like her father, she wanted no part in that.

"Better be...GRYFFINDOR!"

It took her a moment to register that the hat had said her house out loud until Professor McGonagall had taken off the hat. She woodenly walked to the table that was cheering loudly. Even as she approached the smiling faces of the other Gryffindors, she still felt like she had done something wrong. She sat down next to Lavender Brown, the first sorted into Gryffindor.

Corinna scantly paid attention after that. However, she did notice that the two people she sat with on the train were both in Gryffindor along with her. As the ceremony continued on, she wondered if she could retroactively change her mind and redo her sorting when Professor McGonagall called out, "Potter, Harry."

The hall had never been quieter before that moment as a scrawny kid with jet black hair approached the stool. Corinna craned her neck over the other first years to see and she could not help but think...that was it? That was the boy who defeated the Dark Lord, who everyone called the Boy Who Lived. It looked like a light breeze could knock him over.

Much like with Corinna, it seemed to have taken the sorting hat a tad longer than others to place. He was, of course, sorted into Gryffindor, as anyone who had stopped the most powerful wizard in the world as a baby would be. He excitedly joined the Gryffindor table, which erupted into the loudest applause yet. He seemed relieved to be there, and she wondered where the Sorting Hat wanted to put him instead of Gryffindor.