A Squib's Proper Place
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
A sequel to "To Save A Squib"
Chapter 7: The Sorting
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
When I walked into the Great Hall, between Ginny and Hermione, I
was trembling. Dennis and Colin Creevey had rushed ahead of us to find
their seats, but the girls matched my slower pace. They were aware of my
anxiety.
"B-but will the Hat be able to find a House for Callandra?" I
asked them. "What if Squibs are invisible or immune to the Hat's magic?"
Hermione shook her head. "The Hat doesn't have that type of spell
on it," she said, sounding sure of herself.
"Did you read that somewhere?" I asked her.
"No," Hermione said. "But it stands to reason, doesn't it? The
Hat's purpose isn't to find the students. That's a different spell
entirely. The Hat's task is to Sort them once they're already here!"
Ginny patted my hand.
"Don't worry, Mr. Filch," she said. "You know that the Headmaster
wouldn't let Callie put the Hat on unless he was sure that it would be
able to find the right House for her."
Hermione had appealed to my sense of logic and Ginny, to my faith
in Dumbledore. I tried to feel reassured, but my heart was pounding
dreadfully.
Squibs don't get Sorted. Everyone knew that. Squibs aren't
*proper* wizards.
("Know your place, boy." "Keep your head low.")
The girls were both looking at me with concern. I suppose that I
must have been pale. But I told them I was fine, and they left me to
find places at the Gryffindor table.
Longing for the comfort of Mrs. Norris's familiar weight on my
shoulder, or in my arms, I walked slowly towards the Staff Table.
Severus Snape's place was empty. I wondered how he was coming
along with his anti-Cheering Potion. The other Professors were all
present and accounted for.
Smiling, Minerva rose from her chair and came towards me.
"It will be all right, Argus," she said. "Callandra doesn't look
worried. See?"
Callandra Moffitt, who stood beside the Headmaster in front of the
Staff table, looked excited and happy.
She was now clad in a black Hogwarts robe, her many long, beaded
braids streaming down onto her shoulders. I was sure that the poor child
must be nervous. She was just hiding it extremely well. At the moment,
she was exchanging an affectionate glance with Neville Longbottom, who
was watching her proudly from the Gryffindor table.
Then I saw her look over at her brother, Daniel, at the Ravenclaw
table. Callandra may not have looked nervous, but poor Daniel looked
like I felt. He was probably anxious enough for both of them.
Callandra grinned at Daniel, to reassure him.
The Headmaster gestured for silence, and the sounds of
conversation in the Hall grew still.
"Today," he said, simply, "Hogwarts is pleased to welcome a new
student. Callandra Moffitt."
Dumbledore gave Callandra a kind smile which she returned, shyly.
Hagrid rose from his place. The Sorting Hat was in one of his huge
hands, and a four legged stool was clutched in the other. The big man
gave first the stool, then the Hat, to Dumbledore.
The candlelight glittered on Dumbledore's silvery hair and beard
as he placed the stool on the floor in front of him. Then he put the Hat
on the stool.
Murmurs filled the Hall like the whispering of the wind through
tree branches. I doubted that there was anyone present; student,
Professor or ghost, who did not know that Callandra was a Squib.
I knew that I wasn't the only one who was wondering what the Hat
was going to do.
The rip near the Hat's brim opened, and the whispers died away.
The Hat sang:
"Rare among the Wizard-born, seldom revealed,
From both Light and Dark, ever well concealed,
But the Sorting Hat can see what is deep within.
I know the magic flows through your bones and skin.
So, no need to feel an ounce of dread,
When you place me upon your head.
Inside your heart, true magic calls.
Your House is here, within these walls.
Be you Patient, Ambitious, Brave or Wise,
Your proper place, I shall recognize."
The murmurs were louder now, and I heard some exclamations of
surprise too.
I found myself blinded by tears. My relief for Callandra's sake
was accompanied by a painful aching in my heart.
Hermione and Ginny had been right. The Hat had a song for
Callandra. She would have a House, just like any other student.
Would it have sung for me, so many years ago?
I would never know. Tears of joy and sorrow mingled on my face.
Minerva, Merlin bless her, seemed to understand my tangle of
emotions. Her hand found mine and held on gently.
Thus fortified, I shook my tears away. I wanted to watch Callandra
being Sorted.
She was now seated on the stool. Dumbledore placed the Hat on her
head.
With the benefit of hindsight, I could see that the Hat's choice
was clear and simple. Many people, including me, had already found
reason to notice Callandra's bravery.
The Hat shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!!!"
The Gryffindor table's wild cheering and clapping exploded
jubilantly into the silence. Neville Longbottom jumped to his feet and
held out his hand to Callandra, his round face glowing with delight.
With her head held high, Callandra went to him, and to their
housemates. She moved gracefully, straight and proud.
I wanted this for Callandra with all my heart. She had a place at
Hogwarts, a place in the Wizarding world that was far better than my
own.
Smiling, I clapped my callused, work roughened hands for her until
they ached.
*******
"Professor, you missed dinner. And the Sorting! Callandra's a
Gryffindor!" I said.
Severus did not seem surprised.
"Yes, I expected as much," the Potions Master murmured, matter of
factly. A faint smile still lingered on his face, but he seemed more
adept at fighting the effects of Black's Cheering Charm now.
Professor Snape leaned over his cauldron. He added a careful pinch
of something black, sharp smelling and crumbly to the bubbling mixture.
"You mean that it was obvious to you all along?" I asked him.
"Yes, Filch. The matter of young Callandra's House was quite
plain. It is also very clear to me where the Hat would have put you, if
Dippet had been as open-minded as Dumbledore."
I stared at him, wide eyed. "W-where do you think the Hat would
have put me, Professor?"
"Hufflepuff, Filch!" Severus said. "Did you think that I was going
to say `Slytherin?'" He laughed then stopped abruptly.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward again and inhaled the
acrid vapors rising from the dark, frothy mixture in the cauldron.
His expression, when he looked over at me a few moments later, was
nearly as dour as usual.
"Hufflepuff...?" I said softly.
"Of course. It's plain as the nose on your face. You're hard
working, loyal, patient. Rather slow on the uptake..."
"My father was a Hufflepuff. He would have been so proud of me."
My voice was wistful.
Severus sighed. Slytherins sometimes get that way whenever
"Hufflepuff" and "proud" are used in the same sentence.
"Well, Professor," I said. "your Depressing Potion does seem to be
working."
"Appearances can be deceiving, Filch. Believe me, I am continuing
to fight the Charm's effects. My mind is still filled with persistent
mindless good cheer! The potion needs to boil for a little longer."
He added another pinch of the crumbly black stuff and leaned over
to breathe the vapors.
"You can help. Talk to me. Give me some unpleasant news."
I thought for a moment.
"Snuffles has a fever," I said.
"That's NOT unpleasant news!" Severus growled.
Then he sighed again. "Unless you are telling me that his fever is
bad enough to be life-threatening? It wouldn't do for the mangy beast to
expire before I have a chance to get my proper revenge."
"No, he'll recover," I said, sharply. "But Potter left dinner soon
after the Sorting to go upstairs to help Poppy with him. Most of his
innards were being held together with healing spells even before he got
hit with those quills. He's in considerable discomfort."
"Don't glare at me like that, Filch!" Snape snarled. "I *heard*
what you said to me, earlier. I cannot forgive him, but I do not intend
to take my revenge on that creature any time soon. For your sake, I will
simply add this latest indignity to his considerable account."
"Someday," Severus continued, "there will be a proper reckoning
between the two of us. I can wait. For years, if I must. Hufflepuffs are
not the only ones who know how to be patient!"
"Thank you, Professor," I said.
He glared at me, while he continued to breathe the vapors over the
cauldron.
"You were right," Severus said, quietly. "I do have more pressing
concerns than pranks and revenge. Did you happen to observe Draco at
dinner this evening?"
I nodded. Anxious over how Draco and his closest friends might
react to Callandra's Sorting, I had spent a while watching the fifth
year Slytherins. The boy had been even paler than usual, subdued and
quiet. He'd spent much of dinner sitting with his head in his hands.
Even the fact that a Squib had just been Sorted into Gryffindor had not
seemed to penetrate Draco's distracted mood.
"His father's condition is ...unchanged?" I asked.
Severus nodded. "The Cruciatus is a powerful tool, Filch. The Dark
Lord can wield it as no one else can. He knows how to take the Curse
just far enough. He could have made Lucius's pain last for far longer
than he did, without allowing his victim to escape into madness."
He shuddered. Severus had been the Evil One's victim more than
once. The terrible memories were plain in his haunted eyes.
"Professor...?" I said, hesitantly, "Do you think that Lucius
Malfoy might die? I-I know what you owe him. Twice over. He's a
dangerous man. Perhaps it would be better if..."
Snape frowned. "I know precisely what I owe him, Filch. That's my
concern. Not yours."
"Please..." I said, plaintively, "don't try to tell me that you've
taken everything into account and the risks have been carefully
calculated. I've already seen enough of your `calculated risks' to last
me a lifetime."
"Filch," Severus said, very softly. "I cannot be certain what
Lucius will demand of me. But I do have my suspicions. I may not be
asked to do anything for him that I would not do of my own free will."
I shook my head at him in disbelief.
"There are two lives that mean even more to Lucius than his own,"
Severus said, quietly. "He may demand that I protect them in his place,
if he should ever be unable to do so."
"Protect them?" I murmured. "Or give your life to save them?"
Severus stepped back from the cauldron.
He did not answer me.
"Professor...?" I asked.
Severus took a deep breath. "My thanks, Filch," he said in an
entirely different tone. "Our little talk certainly has kept me from
feeling ridiculously happy. But the potion is ready now. I believe that
I have kept you from your rest long enough."
He saw the concern in my face, and acknowledged it with a wry
look. But all he said to me was,
"Good night."
*******
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
Author's Notes:
Jelsemium: Thank you!! You may not have signed in, but you still signed
your name! I knew that it was you! Ginny's kitten is going to be "Bastet
Norris," which will fit the regal little fluffball.
But Severus wouldn't use the Depressing Potion on poor Harry... he
prefers to depress the poor kid the old fashioned way.
As you can see, you were absolutely right about what house Callandra
would be Sorted into!!
Lataradk: Thank you!! Oh, you lucky person!!! The DVD won't be available
in the U.S. until next week!!!
You're right. Bastet Norris sounds better!
Elspeth: Thank you!! Gryffindor always seemed like the best choice for
Callandra. The first Squib student at Hogwarts needs to be brave.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Snape wasn't able to forgive Black, but he
did agree to delay his revenge, because Filch asked.
Awww, poor hippo. I hope that there wasn't any permanent damage done. It
sounds like you went to an interesting school!
Mystical Witch: Thank you!!
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!
Ryven: Thank you!!
Melodie: Thank you!! I would like to have Remus in a story. I do have
story-fragment ideas with him, but nothing else has jelled yet. I also
have fragments of ideas for confrontations with the Death Eaters. I'm
waiting for these ideas to get more focused.
Larania: Thank you!! Snape thinks that Sirius's Cheering Charms should
be considered an Unforgivable Curse!
Gramarye: Thank you!! Filch doesn't know about The Prank, and he doesn't
know that Black actually DID once nearly kill Snape. He really did not
understand what he was asking.
On the other hand, Snape understood how hard it was for Filch to burn
the contents of his cabinets, and he was moved that Filch did it as a
punishment/form of apology to show Severus how sorry he was. So, Filch's
appeal to Snape's honor didn't fall on deaf ears.
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, exactly. Sirius did not see the "dark side" of
his powerful Cheering Charm. Snape's protective Curses are certainly a
bit "overboard." Sirius can take consolation in the fact that anyone who
broke into Snape's office would be turned into a pincushion.
Besnaped: Thank you!!
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Loved your images of the Prank Apocalypse!!
Rabbit: Thank you!! And Thank you, to Jinx too!! Oooh, Alan Rickman
performing Noel Coward... I am drooling with envy. Heck, I am just plain
drooling.
One of my sons was reading reviews over my shoulder. Snape's
interpretive dance, "Spring Blossom" made him laugh out loud.
a Harry Potter fan-fic
by Ozma
A sequel to "To Save A Squib"
Chapter 7: The Sorting
Everything in this story really belongs to J.K. Rowling
When I walked into the Great Hall, between Ginny and Hermione, I
was trembling. Dennis and Colin Creevey had rushed ahead of us to find
their seats, but the girls matched my slower pace. They were aware of my
anxiety.
"B-but will the Hat be able to find a House for Callandra?" I
asked them. "What if Squibs are invisible or immune to the Hat's magic?"
Hermione shook her head. "The Hat doesn't have that type of spell
on it," she said, sounding sure of herself.
"Did you read that somewhere?" I asked her.
"No," Hermione said. "But it stands to reason, doesn't it? The
Hat's purpose isn't to find the students. That's a different spell
entirely. The Hat's task is to Sort them once they're already here!"
Ginny patted my hand.
"Don't worry, Mr. Filch," she said. "You know that the Headmaster
wouldn't let Callie put the Hat on unless he was sure that it would be
able to find the right House for her."
Hermione had appealed to my sense of logic and Ginny, to my faith
in Dumbledore. I tried to feel reassured, but my heart was pounding
dreadfully.
Squibs don't get Sorted. Everyone knew that. Squibs aren't
*proper* wizards.
("Know your place, boy." "Keep your head low.")
The girls were both looking at me with concern. I suppose that I
must have been pale. But I told them I was fine, and they left me to
find places at the Gryffindor table.
Longing for the comfort of Mrs. Norris's familiar weight on my
shoulder, or in my arms, I walked slowly towards the Staff Table.
Severus Snape's place was empty. I wondered how he was coming
along with his anti-Cheering Potion. The other Professors were all
present and accounted for.
Smiling, Minerva rose from her chair and came towards me.
"It will be all right, Argus," she said. "Callandra doesn't look
worried. See?"
Callandra Moffitt, who stood beside the Headmaster in front of the
Staff table, looked excited and happy.
She was now clad in a black Hogwarts robe, her many long, beaded
braids streaming down onto her shoulders. I was sure that the poor child
must be nervous. She was just hiding it extremely well. At the moment,
she was exchanging an affectionate glance with Neville Longbottom, who
was watching her proudly from the Gryffindor table.
Then I saw her look over at her brother, Daniel, at the Ravenclaw
table. Callandra may not have looked nervous, but poor Daniel looked
like I felt. He was probably anxious enough for both of them.
Callandra grinned at Daniel, to reassure him.
The Headmaster gestured for silence, and the sounds of
conversation in the Hall grew still.
"Today," he said, simply, "Hogwarts is pleased to welcome a new
student. Callandra Moffitt."
Dumbledore gave Callandra a kind smile which she returned, shyly.
Hagrid rose from his place. The Sorting Hat was in one of his huge
hands, and a four legged stool was clutched in the other. The big man
gave first the stool, then the Hat, to Dumbledore.
The candlelight glittered on Dumbledore's silvery hair and beard
as he placed the stool on the floor in front of him. Then he put the Hat
on the stool.
Murmurs filled the Hall like the whispering of the wind through
tree branches. I doubted that there was anyone present; student,
Professor or ghost, who did not know that Callandra was a Squib.
I knew that I wasn't the only one who was wondering what the Hat
was going to do.
The rip near the Hat's brim opened, and the whispers died away.
The Hat sang:
"Rare among the Wizard-born, seldom revealed,
From both Light and Dark, ever well concealed,
But the Sorting Hat can see what is deep within.
I know the magic flows through your bones and skin.
So, no need to feel an ounce of dread,
When you place me upon your head.
Inside your heart, true magic calls.
Your House is here, within these walls.
Be you Patient, Ambitious, Brave or Wise,
Your proper place, I shall recognize."
The murmurs were louder now, and I heard some exclamations of
surprise too.
I found myself blinded by tears. My relief for Callandra's sake
was accompanied by a painful aching in my heart.
Hermione and Ginny had been right. The Hat had a song for
Callandra. She would have a House, just like any other student.
Would it have sung for me, so many years ago?
I would never know. Tears of joy and sorrow mingled on my face.
Minerva, Merlin bless her, seemed to understand my tangle of
emotions. Her hand found mine and held on gently.
Thus fortified, I shook my tears away. I wanted to watch Callandra
being Sorted.
She was now seated on the stool. Dumbledore placed the Hat on her
head.
With the benefit of hindsight, I could see that the Hat's choice
was clear and simple. Many people, including me, had already found
reason to notice Callandra's bravery.
The Hat shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!!!"
The Gryffindor table's wild cheering and clapping exploded
jubilantly into the silence. Neville Longbottom jumped to his feet and
held out his hand to Callandra, his round face glowing with delight.
With her head held high, Callandra went to him, and to their
housemates. She moved gracefully, straight and proud.
I wanted this for Callandra with all my heart. She had a place at
Hogwarts, a place in the Wizarding world that was far better than my
own.
Smiling, I clapped my callused, work roughened hands for her until
they ached.
*******
"Professor, you missed dinner. And the Sorting! Callandra's a
Gryffindor!" I said.
Severus did not seem surprised.
"Yes, I expected as much," the Potions Master murmured, matter of
factly. A faint smile still lingered on his face, but he seemed more
adept at fighting the effects of Black's Cheering Charm now.
Professor Snape leaned over his cauldron. He added a careful pinch
of something black, sharp smelling and crumbly to the bubbling mixture.
"You mean that it was obvious to you all along?" I asked him.
"Yes, Filch. The matter of young Callandra's House was quite
plain. It is also very clear to me where the Hat would have put you, if
Dippet had been as open-minded as Dumbledore."
I stared at him, wide eyed. "W-where do you think the Hat would
have put me, Professor?"
"Hufflepuff, Filch!" Severus said. "Did you think that I was going
to say `Slytherin?'" He laughed then stopped abruptly.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward again and inhaled the
acrid vapors rising from the dark, frothy mixture in the cauldron.
His expression, when he looked over at me a few moments later, was
nearly as dour as usual.
"Hufflepuff...?" I said softly.
"Of course. It's plain as the nose on your face. You're hard
working, loyal, patient. Rather slow on the uptake..."
"My father was a Hufflepuff. He would have been so proud of me."
My voice was wistful.
Severus sighed. Slytherins sometimes get that way whenever
"Hufflepuff" and "proud" are used in the same sentence.
"Well, Professor," I said. "your Depressing Potion does seem to be
working."
"Appearances can be deceiving, Filch. Believe me, I am continuing
to fight the Charm's effects. My mind is still filled with persistent
mindless good cheer! The potion needs to boil for a little longer."
He added another pinch of the crumbly black stuff and leaned over
to breathe the vapors.
"You can help. Talk to me. Give me some unpleasant news."
I thought for a moment.
"Snuffles has a fever," I said.
"That's NOT unpleasant news!" Severus growled.
Then he sighed again. "Unless you are telling me that his fever is
bad enough to be life-threatening? It wouldn't do for the mangy beast to
expire before I have a chance to get my proper revenge."
"No, he'll recover," I said, sharply. "But Potter left dinner soon
after the Sorting to go upstairs to help Poppy with him. Most of his
innards were being held together with healing spells even before he got
hit with those quills. He's in considerable discomfort."
"Don't glare at me like that, Filch!" Snape snarled. "I *heard*
what you said to me, earlier. I cannot forgive him, but I do not intend
to take my revenge on that creature any time soon. For your sake, I will
simply add this latest indignity to his considerable account."
"Someday," Severus continued, "there will be a proper reckoning
between the two of us. I can wait. For years, if I must. Hufflepuffs are
not the only ones who know how to be patient!"
"Thank you, Professor," I said.
He glared at me, while he continued to breathe the vapors over the
cauldron.
"You were right," Severus said, quietly. "I do have more pressing
concerns than pranks and revenge. Did you happen to observe Draco at
dinner this evening?"
I nodded. Anxious over how Draco and his closest friends might
react to Callandra's Sorting, I had spent a while watching the fifth
year Slytherins. The boy had been even paler than usual, subdued and
quiet. He'd spent much of dinner sitting with his head in his hands.
Even the fact that a Squib had just been Sorted into Gryffindor had not
seemed to penetrate Draco's distracted mood.
"His father's condition is ...unchanged?" I asked.
Severus nodded. "The Cruciatus is a powerful tool, Filch. The Dark
Lord can wield it as no one else can. He knows how to take the Curse
just far enough. He could have made Lucius's pain last for far longer
than he did, without allowing his victim to escape into madness."
He shuddered. Severus had been the Evil One's victim more than
once. The terrible memories were plain in his haunted eyes.
"Professor...?" I said, hesitantly, "Do you think that Lucius
Malfoy might die? I-I know what you owe him. Twice over. He's a
dangerous man. Perhaps it would be better if..."
Snape frowned. "I know precisely what I owe him, Filch. That's my
concern. Not yours."
"Please..." I said, plaintively, "don't try to tell me that you've
taken everything into account and the risks have been carefully
calculated. I've already seen enough of your `calculated risks' to last
me a lifetime."
"Filch," Severus said, very softly. "I cannot be certain what
Lucius will demand of me. But I do have my suspicions. I may not be
asked to do anything for him that I would not do of my own free will."
I shook my head at him in disbelief.
"There are two lives that mean even more to Lucius than his own,"
Severus said, quietly. "He may demand that I protect them in his place,
if he should ever be unable to do so."
"Protect them?" I murmured. "Or give your life to save them?"
Severus stepped back from the cauldron.
He did not answer me.
"Professor...?" I asked.
Severus took a deep breath. "My thanks, Filch," he said in an
entirely different tone. "Our little talk certainly has kept me from
feeling ridiculously happy. But the potion is ready now. I believe that
I have kept you from your rest long enough."
He saw the concern in my face, and acknowledged it with a wry
look. But all he said to me was,
"Good night."
*******
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
Author's Notes:
Jelsemium: Thank you!! You may not have signed in, but you still signed
your name! I knew that it was you! Ginny's kitten is going to be "Bastet
Norris," which will fit the regal little fluffball.
But Severus wouldn't use the Depressing Potion on poor Harry... he
prefers to depress the poor kid the old fashioned way.
As you can see, you were absolutely right about what house Callandra
would be Sorted into!!
Lataradk: Thank you!! Oh, you lucky person!!! The DVD won't be available
in the U.S. until next week!!!
You're right. Bastet Norris sounds better!
Elspeth: Thank you!! Gryffindor always seemed like the best choice for
Callandra. The first Squib student at Hogwarts needs to be brave.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Snape wasn't able to forgive Black, but he
did agree to delay his revenge, because Filch asked.
Awww, poor hippo. I hope that there wasn't any permanent damage done. It
sounds like you went to an interesting school!
Mystical Witch: Thank you!!
UnrepentantReader: Thank you!!
Ryven: Thank you!!
Melodie: Thank you!! I would like to have Remus in a story. I do have
story-fragment ideas with him, but nothing else has jelled yet. I also
have fragments of ideas for confrontations with the Death Eaters. I'm
waiting for these ideas to get more focused.
Larania: Thank you!! Snape thinks that Sirius's Cheering Charms should
be considered an Unforgivable Curse!
Gramarye: Thank you!! Filch doesn't know about The Prank, and he doesn't
know that Black actually DID once nearly kill Snape. He really did not
understand what he was asking.
On the other hand, Snape understood how hard it was for Filch to burn
the contents of his cabinets, and he was moved that Filch did it as a
punishment/form of apology to show Severus how sorry he was. So, Filch's
appeal to Snape's honor didn't fall on deaf ears.
Demeter: Thank you!! Yes, exactly. Sirius did not see the "dark side" of
his powerful Cheering Charm. Snape's protective Curses are certainly a
bit "overboard." Sirius can take consolation in the fact that anyone who
broke into Snape's office would be turned into a pincushion.
Besnaped: Thank you!!
Lizard of Fire: Thank you!! Loved your images of the Prank Apocalypse!!
Rabbit: Thank you!! And Thank you, to Jinx too!! Oooh, Alan Rickman
performing Noel Coward... I am drooling with envy. Heck, I am just plain
drooling.
One of my sons was reading reviews over my shoulder. Snape's
interpretive dance, "Spring Blossom" made him laugh out loud.