Chapter 3
By Imp (With the
assistance of A small Bomb)
Note: Next chapter. Tom is finally sorted, after of course, a few more
students and a few more "problems". –Imp
~*~
At the Gryffindor table, a seventh year whispered softly to another boy sitting
next to him, smiling mischievously. "We haven't had this much entertainment
since the Weasley Twins! Did you hear that explosion from down the hall? I'd
bet my broomstick whoever sent those muggle-planes up there was responsible for
that too."
"Do you think so?" the boy replied. "But how could a first year cause
such a commotion? It must be Peeves."
"No," the seventh year contradicted. "Look." He pointed to the line of
students waiting to be sorted; there, a girl had just taken up the Hat, but the
seventh year was not pointing to her, he was gesturing to a boy, with dark hair
and a wrinkled, damp-looking robe, who looked as though he was absently playing
with his wand.
"You see there?"
"Yes," the other boy said.
"You see Professor MacAlistor?"
"Of course! What are you getting at Wesley?"
"She's tapping that boy on the shoulder, look how angry she looks."
"Well yes, but that doesn't – " They were both cut off suddenly as the
professor snapped sharply at the boy.
~*~
"Mr. Parkington?!"
Tom jumped. "W-what?" he said, quite startled.
"Those planes," Professor MacAlister said softly. "They didn't just
appear out of nowhere did they?"
"No, 'course not, Professor. I flew 'em up there." Tom said innocently,
waving his wand and bringing all the planes to a crashing demise in the centre
of the Hufflepuff table, where they caught fire after flying through the
candles and caused the disgruntled Hufflepuffs to dump their pumpkin juice
rapidly over the burning (amazingly) still damp paper.
The professor gave a strained smile and said in a low voice, " I will
speak to you later." She then turned away, back to the job of sorting the first
years in an orderly fashion.
~*~
"You see?" The seventh year exclaimed. "I told you it was that little first
year; he's going to be in a bloody lot of trouble once MacAlister's done with
him!"
"I suppose you're right – my gosh! Look, he's dumped the planes on the
Hufflepuff's table, and they've caught fire!" The other gasped.
"I told you he's going to be worth watching."
~*~
Larisa Farthing had been sent to Slytherin and MacAlister was continuing
to call up students, keeping a wary eye on Tom as he whistled the United
States' national anthem quietly to himself.
"Amanda, Hallion!" She called. Amanda went to Hufflepuff, as did the student
after next, James Jett.
"Illani, Evan!" Was sorted into Gryffindor after a long silence from the
Hat, as was "Inya, Junko!"
"Jones, Angelica!" The professor snapped. Tom's whistling broke off
abruptly and his face seemed to pale at the thought of ending up in the same
house, the same year as Angelica.
The Hat took a while on Angelica, and Tom could see her silently
mouthing "Gryffindor", why Gryffindor, Tom wasn't quite sure, but he didn't
think she fit the description of a Gryffindor at all.
"Sl-" The Hat began, but Angelica shook her head violently and it shut
its rip of a mouth and seemed to contemplate a bit further. "Ravenclaw!"
Angelica sat a moment, and then stood stiffly, set the Hat down a bit roughly,
and stomped imperiously to the Ravenclaws' table. Tom sighed; he didn't expect
to be sorted into Ravenclaw.
"Lorrel, Senna!" Was next; she went to Gryffindor and Tom saw a few
people at that table waving energetically to her as she happily skipped to her
new classmates.
"Madison, Daren!" Was immediately sent to Ravenclaw and "Marine, Lev!"
was sorted into Slytherin just as "Melnikov, Nikolai!" was. Jason Penn was sent
to Gryffindor, and Tom knew his name would soon be called…
"Parkington, Thomas!" MacAlister said, a sour look clouding her face.
Tom swallowed, but strode bravely up to the Hat and dropped it over his head
with a flourish. A small voice suddenly spoke in his mind; its light, almost musical
tone made Tom smile, but its words had a more dire affect on him.
Hmmm… Thomas James Laurence William Parkington, is it?
You're a hard one, boy. You don't meet someone like you often… Ha! I haven't
had such a confusing mind since Albus Dumbledore, although you're very
different… Ah, you're a bright chap, yes… Reckless, oh yes, quite oblivious to
unexpected challenges… Brave… Cunning… Loyal to a good friend or family member…
Again, dangerously reckless… The Sorting Hat's talk seemed a bit
confusing to the mind it spoke to; Tom twisted his face into an odd expression
and muttered under his breath, "Chatty little hat…" he sneezed. "And too
dusty!"
Dusty am I? You would be too if you were made of cloth and
had been around for hundreds of years… Oh yes, I can hear you. What do you
think? Do you want a certain house? No? You think the Hufflepuffs are boring
and the Ravenclaws too sedate? I see… But you don't mind the sneaky Slytherins
or the bold Gryffindors? You know you are a puzzle… I could put you any one of
the houses… Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… But, no? Ah… You're
hard-working, I see, when it suits your purposes…and you're extremely funny to
someone with a good sense of humour. Alright, how about…-
The Sorting Hat seemed to
yell something completely unintelligible, and then it corrected itself, and was
silent. Tom was quite bewildered, but he was determined to be either a
Gryffindor or a Slytherin, and so he imitated the hat's voice and cried,
"Gryffindor!" before jumping up and throwing the surprised Hat away. He raced
across the hall and stumbled into a seat at the end of the table to the sounds
of cheers from the other Gryffindors. But his housemates would soon find Tom
was not so much a blessing as they thought…
~*~
The next student to be
sorted was Zora Quorrel: she went swiftly to Slytherin and was followed by
Yelena Raikov, who was also sent to Slytherin. Leonard Rayle was sorted into
Gryffindor directly before Sabrina, Angelica's friend ended up in Ravenclaw
almost immediatly. The last three first
years took a bit longer though, but eventually the Hat sent two of them (Michael
Teil and Lana Vetteilian) to Hufflepuff and the last (Josef Zane), to
Gryffindor.
Tom meanwhile, was
wondering blankly why he had yelled Gryffindor instead of Slytherin and why the
Hat had not revealed the mistake and gotten him into even more trouble; vaguely
he saw Devin watching him, and he thought that if anyone had realized his
trick, it was Devin Avery. Tom decided stubbornly that no matter what the other
Gryffindors had to say about the Slytherins, he would still keep his contact
with Devin, there was no one else he knew that might assist him in his
trouble-making.
The feast had finally come
to the students' plates, how, Tom didn't know; he ate his desert and left the
rest; he was becoming quite sleepy… The thought that he hadn't actually had to
jump off the castle to enter Hogwarts drifted distantly through his mind and he
smiled a bit, thinking what he would tell Link, his little brother…
~*~
Tom woke with a start,
looking around confusedly, completely disoriented. He knew he was in Hogwarts,
and that he had been at the feast…but he didn't remember coming here.
The red drape of a
canopied bed met his sleep-clouded eyes and he looked down at his hands, and
then twisted around to see a large, fluffy white pillow with a dent in it,
supposedly from his own head. Was he already in his dormitory? Was it morning
yet?
He cleared his throat and
shoved the sheets and red and gold quilt off the bed in his haste to get disentangled
from them and found that he had, although he couldn't quite remember it, jumped
into bed with his robe on, and his shoes. He rubbed his eyes and blinked;
sunlight was filtering into the enclosed space of his bed and he could hear low
voices, whispering conspiratorially from around the other side of the red
curtain.
Tom finally got out of
bed, or fell out, to put it more precisely, startling his roommates who jumped
up when they heard him hit the floor.
"You certainly slept in.
Did someone slip you a sleeping potion?" One of the boys asked.
"Hey, you're that Parkington
kid who sent those paper-things up in the air before you were sorted, right?"
Another said.
"You're lucky we don't
have classes on the first day, you'd have already missed all the morning ones,
it's almost lunchtime!" The third muttered.
"Hello." Was all Tom
managed to say, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he surveyed
his new roommates. Should've gone to Slytherin… He thought dismally.
"Not very talkative, is he
Josef?" The first boy said, grinning.
"Nope. Hey, Leonard, do we
have any water to wake our half-asleep roommate up with?" Josef said.
"Uh-no." Leonard said,
looking out the window darkly.
"I'll wake my own self up,
thank you very much…" Tom muttered, turning and stumbling from the room.
The other boys were all
silent as he exited and after a few moments a loud crash reverberated through
the small dorm and the Josef broke into peals of laughter.
"Fell off the first step,
I suppose." Leonard said blankly, still staring out the window
"I'd say he did! Jason – " Josef gasped. "Remember last night! – "
"Don't remind me!" Jason
said sourly, looking almost as dour as Leonard.
~*~
Tom had, in fact, fallen
off the trick first step and tumbled down half the stairs before he could right
himself and stand, if a bit unsteadily. He wondered unhappily why he hadn't
been warned of such an obstacle and why he hadn't noticed it himself before
stepping off of it. He quickly pushed these thoughts from his mind though, and
decided to try and find the Great Hall to get something to eat; breakfast or
lunch, he didn't much care, as he was feeling quite starved all the same. Down
the rest of the steps, (more carefully this time) and into the Common Room Tom
went, ignoring the few odd stares he got from the older Gryffindors, he exited
through a hole in the wall, that he soon found was the back of a portrait, one
of a very large, smiling lady.
"I remember you," the lady
said as he began to leave her behind. "You're that boy that came up to me last
night and demanded to get in, but you didn't know the password!"
"That's nice…" Tom
muttered and wandered away, thinking that sooner or later, if he didn't find
the Great Hall, he would find someone who could take him to it.
~*~
Note: The end of chapter three.
Well, Tom has tricked his way into Gryffindor and is now not quite sure he
belongs there. What will he think up next? That's quite a mystery, even to him.
Well: comments, questions, suggestions, criticisms, praises…? They're all welcome
and I'm wondering why HP reviewer are so stingy, I know that Sida can't
be the only one reading this. Ah well, Tootles-IMP