Hogwarts and Hufflepuff
"There it is! I see it!" Ron shouted. I hurried over to join him next to the window and stared out the pane, which was smeared with dreary rain. The sky, overcast, blocked my view from my new school.
"Are you sure?" I asked, squinting up at the huge hill where a thicket of trees obscured my vision. "I don't see it; those trees are in my way."
Ron frowned. "I know I saw it. We must be entering Hogsmeade now."
"Hogsmeade?" I asked, frowning. Now what was that?
Harry sidled over to me. He grinned at my confusion. "Hogsmeade is the nearest wizarding village with a train station. It's quite close to the school actually. When we leave the train, we'll get on carriages that will take us up to Hogwarts."
Hermione jumped in. "Did you know that Hogsmeade is the only completely wizarding community in Britain? And history is abundant; Victor Row is said to be the street Winston the Wise lived on in 1736, the year that the International Confederation of Warlocks-"
"That's great, Hermione," Ron interrupted. "But Opal probably doesn't want the detailed recount of everything that's ever happened in Hogsmeade; she'll want to know about the shops!" At this, he turned to me, his brown eyes lighting up. "You'll never believe the stores they have there- you'll love it, I swear- they've got a gigantic candy store and the best joke shop and an awesome restuarant-"
I laughed happily as Hermione and Ron competed for my attention to tell me how great Hogsmeade was. I'd gone with Harry, Hermione, and Ron to be introduced to everyone on the train; then I gone back with them to their compartment, the very last one in the back, telling George I'd meet up with them later.
"So, Opal, what year are you going to be in? You never told us," Harry asked.
I blushed and took a deep breath. Glancing at them, I said softly, "My fourth year."
"All right!" Ron cheered. "That's what year we're all in."
Hermione smiled. "I thought you were going to be in your sixth year. That's what year George, Fred, Alicia, and Lee are in. Angelina's in her seventh."
My stomach dropped. Positive now that the group I'd previously met would shun me since I was so young, I sighed deeply and fell into a seat. Harry looked concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down next to me.
I half-smiled. "I'm just worried all the others will be upset because I'm so young. I became really good friends with them, and..." I trailed off, staring into space as the train came to a grinding halt.
Harry stood up, sticking out his hand to help me. "Well," he said with a shrug. "I guess we'll see. But Ron's brothers and his friends don't seem like the type-" he stopped talking when I grabbed his hand for him to pull me up.
Frankly, I would have stopped talking, too. As it was, I could hardly breath. My hand was burning- it was on fire- my skin felt like it was melting with pain-
"Ahh!" I moaned loudly, wrenching free of Harry's grasp. He was groaning, too, clutching his wrist and staring at his palm, where a huge red blister was quickly disappearing. I glanced down at my own hand, where a blister just like his was shrinking. When I looked up, Harry was staring at me, a mixture of fright and fasination on his face.
"Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely. Glancing behind him, he pulled the sliding door to the compartment shut. Ron and Hermione had already left, leaving their trunks behind to be magically transported up to Hogwarts.
"I was just thinking the same thing about you," I retored, sitting slowly. My knees felt like they were going to give out any second. "That- was impossible- how could our skin react so violently to each other?"
Harry had gotten a faraway look in his eye, like he was in deep thought. I sat there quietly, waiting for him to snap out of his reverie. Finally, he said, slightly reluctantly, "Well, something happened like that to me before, but-"
He was cut off by George Weasley. The red-head leaned into our compartment, smiling gamely. "C'mon, you two! Let's go, the rest of the students have cleared off- there, that's it, grab your bags, but leave your trunks-" With that, he led us off the train and into the pouring rain.
The carraiges had already started to leave. Harry and I quickly climbed into Ron and Hermione's, which had stayed behind to wait for us. When we'd climbed in and settled down onto the damp velvet seats, Hermione asked, "What took you two so long?"
I gulped as Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. "Er, one of the straps on Opal's bookbag broke, and we had to pick up all the stuff and repair it." I nodded vigoriously in agreement. Ron and Hermione shrugged, and I elbowed Harry in the ribs.
Giving him a warning look with my eyes, I muttered, "We have to talk." He nodded, his eyes wide, and put a finger to his mouth, glancing at Hermione and Ron, who were deep in an argument about something Ron had said.
Licking my lips, I smoothed down the front of my robes. I'd changed on the train right before Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken me around to introduce me to everyone. Pulling a small mirror out of my bookbag, I groaned. I was a mess. My hair was wet and hung in soggy chunks around my face, and my face itself was pale and drained of color. I slipped the mirror quietly back into my bookbag. Glancing at Harry, I caught him eyeing me, chewing on his bottom lip in though. I turned to the window.
The scenery was extraordinary. The path the carriages were taking up the hill was packed dirt. The road was lined with small goblins holding torches. When I made eye contact with one of the rounded, dumpling creatures, he smiled and waved, bobbing his head, which was covered in a plumed purple hat, and kicking up his tiny legs. The trees alongside the road teemed with life. Birds of all different colors and sizes called out to each other and insects buzzed noisily. It sounded like an exotic forest. I saw one bird which made me smile. It looked just liked Kenny's from back in the States. It had three feathers, one each of the primary colors, sticking out from it's forehead and a bright blue plummage. It's tail feathers were the same color as it's beak: a bright, violent, orange. I smiled, remembering Kenny.
When we broke through a patch in the trees, I caught my first glimpse of the school. My breath snagged in my throat as I stared, wide-eyed, at the huge, towering castle that rose mightily from the top of the hill. A silent crack of lightning illuminated it from behind, and my eyes feasted hungrily over the huge stone building. Hundreds of windows glinted with a warm, yellow light, casting squares of gold on the ground below. There were many entrances; some blocked off with thick gates, others tiny and out of place. Towers rose off the sides, and one with scarlet shingles stood out in particular. A banner flapped in the window from one of the windows.
"Nice, isn't it?" Ron's voice said suddenly, making me jump. "Yeah, that tower's Gryffindor. The best one in the school, if you ask me." His chest swelled with proud. "That's the house all three of us are in."
I let out a long breath, my eyes still wide as I admired the view. There was so much to look at! A deep green lawn, thick and luxerious, stretched downward towards the patch of woods we'd broken through. On the other side of the woods, a huge lake, glinting like silver liquid in the moonlight, shimmered and reflected the moon. A low, swirling fog writhed and twisted a few feet above it. Off to the side of the castle (way, way off to the side) hunched a forbidding and dangerous-looking forest. It looked off limits because of it's distance from the wide lawn that stretched out in between it and the castle. As the carraiges pulled up behind the castle, coming to a stop on a soft brick, cobblestone turn-around with a fountain in the middle, I got to see the back view. It was identical to the front, except instead of the lake, a garden-courtyard twisted away and out of site, all kinds of flowers blooming out of the sides. Paths stretched throughout this maze of nature like ribbons. And in the place of the patch of woods we'd burst free of stood a small, warm-looking hut.
Harry caught me admiring the nice house, which seemed to radiate life and joy. "That's Hagrid's hut. He's the gamekeeper here at Hogwarts," here he rolled his eyes. "You'll meet him later. Right now he's leading the first years across the lake in boats. From Hogsmeade." I admired the hut a second later before turning back to the large group of people facing the side of the castle.
Suddenly, a stern face woman appeared out of the middle of nowhere. She was tall and stick thin. She stood romrad straight and her bony shoulders were pointed through the thin, cheap black robe she wore. A wind ruffled the fabric and it made snapping sounds as it flapped around her legs. This woman's hair, a deep, even gray, was pulled into a tight, small bun on the top of her head. Perched on the tips of her nose were wire-rimmed, steel glasses, square and compact.
Severe blue eyes; gun metal eyes; icy, rigid, narrowed eyes stared into each and every one of us as we stood silent. Only the sound of the howling wind, which has started up when she popped into sight, could be heard whining and whipping around us.
Suddenly, this harsh woman broke into a smile. It didn't exactly reach her eyes; nor did it fit well with the sharp lines and pointy edges of her countenance. But this fluid expression, which glided onto her lips easily, immediately put me to rest. She obviously wasn't a bad guy if she smiled at us.
"Professor McGonagall! Professor McGonagall!" Hermione jumped up and down frantically, waving her hands above the crowd, trying to get the woman's attention. Professor McGonagall noticed the commotion in the back of the group and smiled wider at Hermione.
"Ah, Miss Granger!" she said as she neared Hermione, Harry, Ron, and me, standing around in the cold rain, shivering and craddling our bookbags and coats. "It is ever so good to see you." Her eyes roamed over Ron and Harry, and she seemed not to notice me. "All three of you."
Harry glanced at me and cleared his throat. "Um, Professor, we have a new student who doesn't know what house she's in. Opal Harris, her name is, Professor. She's a fourth year, just like us."
I turned to Professor McGonagall, a ready smile on my face and my hand, damp and slimy with the rain, outstretched for her to shake. The strict teacher spun around gracefully, a thin tendril of gray hair escaping her bun. The smile slid off her face as she stared at me in shocked horror.
I withdrew my hand, replacing my friendly grin with a look of confusion. "Excuse me, Professor? Is something wrong? Am I... in the wrong place, or something?"
Professor McGonagall drew in a shaky breath, regaining her composure, her mouth in a tense, thin-lipped frown again. She ran her hand down her robes and tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear. "No, no, nothing's wrong. I'm sorry, dear, you just reminded me of someone. And I thought I recognized the name... but no, of course not, you can't be her."
She turned back to the large group of students who stood, shivering, talking animatedly amongst themselves, getting reaquainted with old friends. She clapped her bony hands twice. Everyone quickly stopped talking and swiveled to face her. I was impressed with the way she handled things so quickly. This was obviously a stern teacher who knew how to control her students. She opened her mouth, and I, too, tuned out the wind to listen in rapt attention. "You, my students, are my entire fourth year. And I, as many of you already know-" she shot me a quick look- "am the Head of the House of Gryffindor, as well as the Transfiguration teacher, the Headmistress, and the Fourth Year Councilor."
A buzz of excited chatter and whispers flew around the group. Ron leaned in to tell me what was going on, but Professor McGonagall clapped her hands once more and the group stopped talking. She said, "Yes, this is the year that your class will have a councilor. At our school, that refers to the teacher that helps you plan for your O.W.Ls next year and constructs a guided path for your future career, if you choose to take it. Each house will be talking more about it at their own in-depth seminar, held in the Hogsmeade Town Hall. Students who do not have a legal guardian's permission should talk to me as soon as possible."
She clapped her hands again. "Now, there are still a few messages that need to be announced, but I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will take care of those at the Feast. If you will stay with the people of your house, please follow me." She briskly slipped through the crowd and snapped her fingers. A large golden key appeared in her hand and she pushed it into the rusted lock dangling from the heavy gray door.
I grasped onto Ron's upper arm as he begin to move away from me. He nodded at me and pulled me through the crowd, apparently following Hermione and Harry in their pursuit for the people of their house. We stumbled upon a small group of teenagers, about ten, that looked about the same age as us.
Harry smiled at all of them as the wind mused his hair, pushing the thick black locks in every direction. He glanced at me, and I blushed, looking away. For him to catch me staring at him... he might think something of it. Obviously, he'd already come to some sort of conclusion about me. What had Harry said on the train? "Something like this had happened to me before..." I didn't even want to think about what it could mean. If I'd learned one thing in the wizarding world, I'd learned that there are too many possibilities to imagine.
Hermione introduced me to everyone in her dorm. The five girls all shared a circular room and attended classes together along with the five boys in the fourth year of Gryffindor. "Oh, okay, so this school is sort of like teaming?" I asked, nodding to verify the assumption.
A girl named Lavendar flipped her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and smirked. She was a clear as glass to read; a rich British snob who thought she could get anything and everything she wanted from her Mummy and Daddy's pocket. "Whatever that is... some sort of States thing, I suppose," she trailed off uninterested, studying her nails.
"Actually," I explained. "it is. See, at some schools, the classes and kids are divided into groups, randomly picked from a computer. These classrooms are all in the same basic area so the kids won't get lost and the students have basically the same classes together. This way, the students get to know each other better. And the teachers get to know the kids, also, on a deeper level. It works the same for witching and wizarding schools as it does public schools."
Hermione seemed very interested in this tidbit of culture, but just then the line started moving into the castle and the topic of the conversation switched gears. Ron rubbed his stomach and stated loudly, "I bloody don't care what we're having; I'm starved!"
Harry laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I don't get fed to well at the Dursley's."
"You don't?" I blurted out without thinking. I couldn't help myself. A part of me had to know how he couldn't get much to eat in a family like that. Especially with the dinner that I'd witnessed.
The green-eyed boy raised his eyebrows at me. "Nooo...." he said, long and drawn out, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes. "Why?"
I shrugged, slipping into my jacket as we entered the freezing room. "I don't know. It's just, well, uh, a lot of teenagers eat tons of food, and, well, you look like you need some more of it, and..." I stuttered off, ducking my head down in a cascade of blonde hair to hide my bright pink face.
"I know exactly what you mean," Harry agreed, much to my surprise. I snapped my head up. He was smiling at me kindly, patting his stomach. "I do look half-starved, don't I? Well, it's not my fault. No matter how much I eat, I stay skinny as a string bean."
Ron and Hermione laughed as we moved from the large subterranian garage area we'd entered up a set of narrow steps into a huge hall. It was warm and snug in here, and I gazed at the ceiling, walls, doors, and grand staircase in awe. Happy, chattering voices emitted from behind the two biggest double doors, which were off to the right of the hall. The doors were a deep mahogany, with large golden doorknobs and intricately designed and hand-carved patterns lavishly decorating it's surface. As for the other surfaces of the room, the walls were a rich, velvety brown with dark brown knots in them. I ran my hand over the smooth, glassy, well-oiled teak wood.
"This," Hermione whispered in my ear, spreading her arms out wide, a smile of enchantment written all over her face, "is the entrance hall."
"Home to me," Harry added in a low voice as they waited patiently for me to absorb all of it.
Richly painted and hand-knitted tapestries lined the wall, so tall and so wide they seemed as big as slabs of parking lot, though quite more beautiful. Instead of the dull gray, the colors were deep and bright: velvety maroons, cold silvers, creamy whites, sparkly navys, and glowing greens. And in place of the gritty gravel parking lots often used, the texture and feel of the hanging rugs were extremely warm and unbelievably soft, with thick gold tassles lining the bottoms. I wished I could run my hands over each and every one of them, but I knew that could take hours.
I stared down at the floor, which was an ivory-and-gold tile inlay with a slick embossed surface. Suits of armor stood in corners and lined the wall, gleaming and shiny for the start of the new school term. Small tables and coat racks of all sort were artfully arranged so that they provided elegant eye candy.
And the grand staircase. Grand was an understatement. It rose in front of me, wide enough for about twenty people to walk up at it at the same time. The steps, which were covered in a red velvet rug, were a hard, unyeilding marble. At the top, the staircase broke off into three others, each exactly like the main one. The banister was smooth walnut, shining with wax, the ends rolled and curled under like paws.
"Do you know how much fun that is to slide down?" a voice whispered in my ear. I jumped back, frightened, disturbed. I spun around to face my intruder. George's twinkling blue eyes, filled with warmth, stared down into mine. He was standing extremely close to me.
I melted.
My mouth transformed into a smile. "George!" I scolded lightly, slapping him on the arm. He winced in pain. "You scared me."
"I could tell," he smirked.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall interrupted us. "Hello Weasley, Harris. Mr. Weasley, sir, I do believe your house is settling down into a delicious meal?"
George nodded and left, but not before giving me another heart-stopping smile behind Professor McGonagall's back. She had turned to face me. "And you," she started. I stared meekly at the ground, my hands clasped behind my back. "Come with me."
I followed her. She led me through a smaller door, off to the side, behind a pillar. When she pulled open the door, a collective gasp rose up from the occupants of the room. When she allowed me to enter, I was staring at about forty ten year-olds who looked extremely scared. A small, shivering boy, wrapped in a huge moleskin coat, was curled up in the corner, his bottom lip quivering and beads of water- or sweat?- rolling off his forehead.
McGonagall clapped her hands. "Hello, first years. I am Professor McGonagall, your Transfiguration teacher. You will soon be divided into one of the four houses here at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. In just a moment, you all go through that door right there-" at this, she pointed one long finger at the thick back door tucked in a corner. "-and sit down on a stool. You will then proceed to place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will tell you which house you are to be in. Does everyone understand?" I could tell that many of the young children did not know what this strange woman was talking about, for they couldn't have even known what lay beyond that door, but fear silenced them. No one spoke a word as Professor McGonagall turned to face me.
Her voice and face got much more stern. "I'm not sure what you are doing here, young lady, and you will talk to Professor Dumbledore about this later, but for now, all I can say is that you better be sorted with the first years, since you don't even know what house you're to be in. Just do as they do."
I nodded, embarrassed that I had to be told to do as the younger students were doing. Surely everyone would laugh when they saw me on the stage, cold and wet, sitting down on the stool in my damp, soiled robes. George would be so humiliated he ever talked to me he wouldn't be able to look at me again, ever.
"-by alphabet," I heard Professor McGonagall tell the group. I guess that meant I would be somewhere in the middle, my last name being Harris and all. She continued, "when I call your name, just walk through the door." With that, the Professor touched her ear with her wand, mumbled a charm, and pointed toward the wall. It burst open suddenly, and she walked through it calmly.
A moment later, a song started from the stage. I stared in bewilderment through the open door. It appeared that a ragged hat, which the teacher had placed on a worn stool, had burst into song. It's voice was rich and loud, carrying far. A minute later, it finished. I gulped. Yeah, talking hats alright... this school was weird.
Then Professor McGonagall began to call the names. When they reached, "Gareth!", I prepared to go out on the stage. But the next name called (there was a slight pause before it, as if the Professor was unsure of herself) was, "Henley!"
I slumped against a wall, rolling my eyes. Of course, something else to totally throw things out of wack. They skipped me. Now Professor Dumbledore would think I was some kind of criminal, or something, sneaking onto the Hogwarts grounds. He would have me expelled and sent back to the States, where I would have to live with my mother again.
"Prever!"
In that awful, huge house, where it takes fifteen minutes to get from the kitchen to my bedroom. And I would have to go to Yolanda's... that would be something alright. I would stick out like a green thumb. All those stuck-up snobs, only caring about clothes and make-up and boys...
"Yawitz!"
Or maybe, unfortunately, I would change. I would turn into one of them. And I would never get to see my Aunt Kella again... that would be awful. I loved her warm, comfortable house. And I wouldn't see George or Harry or Ron or Hermione. Or the wonderful entrance hall at Hogwarts. Hmm... Hogwarts was finally starting to grow on me...
"Harris!"
I snapped my head up. Pulling my mind from the cloud of dejected thoughts, I glanced around. Okay... I was the only one in the room. A white fog was starting to circle my feet, tugging me toward the door. Had I just heard my name? Apparently, I wasn't leaving England! I was staying! That must mean they put new students last.
I walked out onto the stage after a delayed pause. Squinting into the bright flourescent lights, I noticed George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, Angelina, and Lee all waving their arms at me. Alicia sat there, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. That was the last thing I saw before I dropped the ragged hat on top of my head.
Suddenly, a tiny voice filled my mind. I realized the hat was talking to me. He murmured, "Well, oh my, there's a lot of emotions in here... there's a good strong pull to get what you want in life, and an even stronger urge to achieve this shrewdly, that would be good in Slytherin, yet it doesn't match everything else... but then there's a sharp mind and a quick, dry wit- that would fit well in Ravenclaw... let's see, look at that courage and bravery, that honesty and chivalry! Perfect match for Gryffindor... but the most I see is a loyal friend, someone who will stay on your side, patience... diligent... that's the most, for Hufflepuff, but there's all the others... I guess... well..."
The voice was quiet for about fifteen seconds. I thought something must have gone wrong. I could feel the crowd's insecurity, almost see their baited breath. No one before must have ever taken that long. What's it gonna be? I said to myself.
The hat must have heard me, because it said, "What do you want?"
I thought. "Which house is George Weasley in again? Gryffindor?"
The hat responded quickly, "That's not the way to decide! There's a lot of other people in that house also- his troublemaker brother Fred, smart little Hermione, and the famous Harry Potter."
My mind froze on the last name. The hat noticed. He took a deep breath and finally shouted his answer. I heard it, but my heart sunk.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"