Harry
Potter and the Liberi Fatali
Chapter One: The Sorting Incident
*~Charisma~*
_____________________________
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.
Cunae non sunt.
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.
Somnus non eat.
Surgite.
Invenite hortum veritatis.
Ardente veritate
Urite mala mundi.
Ardente veritate
Incendite tenebras mundi.
Valete, liberi,
Diebus fatalibus.
With arms still wrapped around his shoulders and clutching a piece
of parchment tightly in his hand, Harry Potter stepped off the train, peering up at the
sky. It was cloudy; much like the last time he had been standing there, but it wasn't
raining. The whole thing gave him chills. A booming voice reminded him that just down the
way was Hagrid, a person that would give his life for him. Maybe that wasn't as comforting
as it was supposed to be...
Harry hurried forward, catching up to one of the numerous black
robe clad figures, but with familiar flaming hair from his head. Ron turned, smiling at
Harry. But there was something behind it.
They'd never gone into Hogwarts without Hermione there. And this
year, she was gone.
Stepping through the huge doors that were the entrance to
Hogwarts, Harry noticed two figures dressed in black on either side. Immediately, he
shrank a little towards the center.
"I thought Dumbledore wouldn't allow dementors in here
anymore." Ron gave him a funny look before also noticing the two figures around them.
A small smile worked its way onto his face.
"They're not dementors Harry. They're Aurors. I've heard Dad
talk about them sometimes. But I don't know what they'd be doing here. They're supposed to
catch Dark wizards and things like that. Why would..." Ron trailed off as Harry tried
to keep the blush under his collar.
"Voldemort." Harry muttered, continuing towards the
Gryffindor table and seating himself.
"I would like to welcome you all to the first year of
Hogwarts!"
Harry glanced at Ron, who had just sat down. "Did you say
something?"
"No." A confused look was on his face and Harry shook
off the strange feeling running through his body. He turned his attention away from
himself, determined to make this the year where someone else got the spotlight. Anyone
else.
The first years scrambled inside; it must have started raining.
Hagrid managed to keep the majority dry, while a few on the outside had water sprinkled in
their hair. With direction from Professor McGonagall, the first years assembled into a
jumbled line. She brought out an old, tattered hat and set it on a two-legged stool
("How did they get it to stand up?" Ron asked) in the middle of the Great Hall.
Harry watched anxiously, wondering what song it had made up this time.
The dirty, well-worn hat, looking as if it might fall apart at any
moment, opened a wide tear along the brim, as if it were some huge mouth to engulf all
that it could.
Would you try me for a moment?
Stick me just atop your head,
I won't put you in a predicament, So come sit down instead!
I'll always know where you are
Whichever house you think
I have never been wrong thus far
And you are not going to be my start!
Will you take a seat at Gryffindor the bold?
Or make yourself loyal in Hufflepuff?
Will you be Ravenclaw, know the secrets of old?
Or will you be powerful in Slytherin?
Don't worry about the future
It's in my good hands
With time it will be easier
But as this is a first
I will try my best
To put you where you do belong
Not satisfied with the rest!
The Sorting Hat ended its song and Harry clapped hesitantly,
wondering just what the Sorting Hat was thinking of when it wrote that song. Ron, on the
other hand, was clapping as enthusiastically as the rest of the students.
And –though he didn't have that much experience- turned to
Ron and said, "Wasn't that the oddest Sorting song you've heard?"
"Just like the rest, a bit on the short side though."
Ron didn't turn to look at Harry, watching as Professor McGonagall unrolled a large sheet
of paper from a scroll. Harry --who had a memory that was sometimes too sharp for its own
good-- could recall that the list of names had been much longer last year. But, that might
have just been his imagination.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on
the stool. Your House will then be called by the Sorting Hat, and you will proceed to the
appropriate table," Professor McGonagall said, gesturing to the large banners above
every table that supported the names of the Houses.
"Atkins, Holly!"
A tiny girl, with choppy blonde hair and confidant steps, came
forward, placing the Hat delicately on her head. It took a while, with everyone leaning
forwards in their seats, waiting for the first name to be called.
Finally, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"
Even though Holly Atkins ran towards the Ravenclaw table,
stumbling a bit as she did, the whole Hall applauded (a few bored claps from Slytherin of
course). Harry tried not to dart his eyes around the crowd looking for Cho Chang, his long
time crush. He didn't find her.
"Bjork, Shane!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
It always seemed like the Slytherins were chosen in no time, and
Harry wondered if it was because the Hat just knew evil. Draco Malfoy (read: public enemy
number one) grinned and shook the boy's hand, who looked rather disappointed himself. You
were almost in there Potter, he reprimanded himself lightly. The Slytherin House was
supposed to be for people who wanted power and would do anything to get it, but now it had
gained a reputation for producing Dark witches and wizards more than any others. Everyone
seemed to notice Shane Bjork's reluctance and clapped unenthusiastically.
"Bolderg, Helena!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Callowan, Roger!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Chang, Li!"
Harry's head jerked up from making faces at himself in his silver
plate. Cho had a brother? He watched the boy walk proudly to the stool, sit on it wearily,
and place the hat atop his head. Cho came forward to the end of the table, clutching it
with her hands so hard that her knuckles turned white. Even from across the hall, Harry
could hear her chanting, "Be with me Li, be with me."
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted it so loud, that everyone
leaning forward sprang back.
The table roared with applause, everyone standing and welcoming
the small boy to the House. Faces were beaming as they welcomed their new member and Harry
glanced back at Cho, who was still staring at the stool that was Sorting Rupert Duadly.
Her face was pure white and she moved her mouth like she couldn't say anything.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The Sorting continued, they got a few more first years added to
the Gryffindor table, but not nearly as much as Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Harry watched,
counting the tally on his fingers and loosing count several times. It was either two,
seventeen or four hundred new Gryffindors.
Nearly Headless Nick, the mascot ghost of the Gryffindor House,
welcomed each student, that familiar panicked look crossing all their faces as he clapped
an invisible hand through their backs. It looked as if no one was worrying about anything
nearly as much as he was. Harry frowned at the reflection in the plate before him.
"MacNeill, Emma!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
It was Hermione. She would always have something factual to say
right about now, and Harry was missing her usual retorts with both him and Ron. It was
getting boring without her there. Like last year, when Ron hadn't spoken to him and he
felt like there was something missing, the same thing was happening again.
"These Gryffindors do look so much better than those of last
year. I believe we'll win the Inter-House Championship no contest." Nearly Headless
Nick said, grinning broadly to himself. He was decked out in full regalia, for tonight was
Sorting night. The Inter-House Championship was a yearly contest where the Houses competed
for the most points to win the cup.
Gryffindor had won three years in a row, not counting last year
because of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry swallowed a hard lump in his throat at the
thought of that Tournament.
"Pakelwin, Arias!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Quentin, Phoebe!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Quentin, Melody!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Sorting continued for only a short while after "Scwartz,
Sarah!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!") and ended with "Zelda, Queenie!"
("GRYFFINDOR!"). Harry removed his eyes from the two-legged stool (would it be
only one leg next year?) and stared expectantly at his plate, not bothering to watch
Professor McGonagall pick up the stool, hat and small mountain of paper.
"Hey Harry, what's Professor McGonagall doing?" Colin
Creevey, a fourth year who practically fell on his knees and worshipped Harry whenever he
saw him, whispered to him, elbowing Harry rather sharply in the ribs. Wheezing a bit,
Harry glanced over at the space that was used for Sorting.
Professor McGonagall was not exiting with the materials floating
in an orderly fashion behind her, but instead beckoning to something that stood in the
doorway. The Aurors around the door made a motion, like if she wanted them to pick
whatever it was up and forcefully bring it to her. She shook her head, no, it would come
on it's own.
Slowly, gathering all the attention of Great Hall occupants, a
figure dressed in snow-white robes lined with white feathery fur made it's way towards the
Transmogrification teacher in the center, inching as if the weight of the world were on
it's shoulders. A rush of excited and confused whispers spread throughout the Hall, making
it sound like thousands of ghosts were flying through the area. The noise gave Harry a
cold chill down his spine.
The figure sat on the stool and it wobbled albeit it hadn't with
anyone else. Professor McGonagall gently placed the tattered hat on the figure's hooded
head.
"I WILL NOT SORT A FIFTH YEAR!" the hat screamed, and
Harry half expected it to jump off the person's head and run away. Professor McGonagall
grabbed the hat and talked to it, using her wand quite a few times. Finally, she placed it
back on the person's head.
She said quietly (and no one would have heard if they hadn't all
been on the edge of their seats looking at both figures), "Valfreyja, Bryn."
Almost immediately, the Hat screamed in reply,
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry didn't know whether to clap or laugh or cry. So, he tried
for the same blank stare the rest of the table had. Malfoy on the other hand, seemed to
enjoy this turn of events greatly.
"I guess the winners all sit at that table!" He
shouted, laughing so hard that his pale skin flushed pink in his cheeks. His two henchmen
Crabbe and Goyle, guffawed with him. Soon, the entire Slytherin table was in a hoard of
giggles, almost drowned out by the now enthused applause from Gryffindor and the other two
Houses. Whether for Bryn Valfreyja or just to extinguish the noise from the most hated
table.
The girl closed her robes more tightly around her and took a chair
that was the farthest away from everybody, refusing the plate that a cheerful Queenie
Zelda offered her. She rocked back and forth, keeping most everyone away from her. Harry
tried to ignore her, but something at the back of his mind nagged him, like she was going
to cause some kind of trouble.
Dumbledore came forward, smiling and gaining the attention of
everyone. "As they say in France, which is a lovely place, bon appetite!"
Food appeared on the plate with rapid speed, but not everyone dove
right in. Perhaps it was the greyish-blue ceiling, rolling with clouds in a violent battle
that had seemed to give up on the trickle of rain for a more dramatic storm later. Or
maybe it was just that everyone was still trying to get a look at the mysterious Bryn
Valfreyja. Whatever it was, it soon passed and they began eating as rapidly as anyone
else.
"What's this?" Ron said, piling a large spoonful of
stuff from a container onto his plate and poking it with his fork (definitely the wrong
utensil to use).
"What's that?"
"It's a delicacy in Norway. You'll like it if you try
it."
"It looks like something my owl regurgitated."
"If you don't try it, I will shove it into your mouth."
"Ith's goo."
"It's from Norway. A delicacy." Harry said almost
instantly, spooning some onto his plate and taking a mouthful. It was good, very good
actually, and he got a little bit more.
"Foreign foods Harry? Sounds more like something Hermi-"
His stop was so abrupt that Harry froze. Hermione. It had been probably a full hour since
he'd last thought of her. Where was she? What was she doing? How was she doing?
Harry gently set down the fork and grimaced, pushing his plate
away. His stomach clenched violently and he put a hand lightly on it. Those last few bites
might be coming back soon...
Dessert soon came, but Harry ignored it. Instead, he focused his
attention on the table at the front, where all the teachers sat. The normal teachers were
there; Professor Flitwick sitting on his usual cushion and Professor Trawlany with her
large bug like eyes. Harry grimaced at the sight of her. Another year of predicting his
death.
"Take my body back Harry."
Next down the line a few professors, his eyes skimming too quickly
over Professor Snape, his least liked teacher, was Professor McGonagall, smoothing out her
black hair and readjusting her square glasses. Then came Dumbledore, who looked thoroughly
happy and brightened Harry's mood considerably. To the point where Harry picked a bit at
the truffle Ron had placed so delicately on his plate. Next to Dumbledore should have been
the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he was starting to wonder if no one
wanted it anymore, considering how cursed it always was. The chair was empty. Harry's eyes
made their way down to an unfamiliar person.
"An empty chair and another new professor?" He muttered,
taking a bite out of the chocolate without realizing it. Only when the sweetness
registered in his mouth did Harry glance down at the truffle in his hands, slowly sitting
the food in his mouth onto a napkin. If he ate anything, he wasn't going to be happy.
The new professor was wriggling in his chair. Not from being
worried or anxious, no, he was utterly excited. He was loud, with bright red hair (unlike
Ron's though, more fire engine red than the orangish color of Ron's hair) and glittering
hazel eyes. Harry almost scooted back his chair. This new professor was a bit intimidating
and, judging from the huge smile on his face, almost about to burst into a rainfall of
happiness.
One of the Aurors came towards Dumbledore, leaning forward so that
one black gloved hand was on the edge of his chair and its hood sagged to cover its face
even more. Harry shivered involuntarily: these Aurors were too reminiscent of the
dementors.
Just then, Dumbledore stood up, commanding all attention to him
with that simple movement. Each student waited quietly. Last year, the Headmaster had told
them all of the Triwizard Tournament. Who knew what awaited this year? Harry leaned
forward, crossing his arms under the table.
"As you have all seen, there are a few changes. Due to...
unfortunate circumstances of the past year, the Ministry of Magic has decided that having
Aurors posted around the school would lessen any chances of... misfortune."
Dumbledore chose his words very carefully and each student hung on them, leaning even more
forward. The professors, on the other hand (excluding the ball of energy), were stony
faced and staring straight forwards. Even Hagrid looked disgruntled. "Also, due to a
few past events, years five and above are being granted a new class: Studying for O.W.L.S.
which will be taught by Professor Wumbrivil."
The man who had been practically dancing in his seat sprang up,
grinning and sat down before he hit the ceiling. Harry's mouth wouldn't close. Dumbledore
continued, adjusting his wizard's hat atop his white hair.
"The position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor
has been, by order of the Ministry," the way Dumbledore said it, Harry knew that the
Ministry had no part in choosing the new DADA teacher, "filled by an Auror who has
taken a special interest in the Dark Arts, Professor Whitelighter."
The Auror who had whispered to Professor Dumbledore raised a
gloved hand slightly, to show who it was, and then quickly faded into the background.
Harry also noticed that a few of the Aurors had pulled down their hoods, smiling friendly
at the students. They were unnerving, like heads floating in the area without their
bodies.
"And lastly, the Inter-House Championship is on again this
year! I look forward to seeing you all compete." Dumbledore explained exactly what it
was for the first years and then gave a few more words.
With that, they were dismissed. One different thing however, was
that McGonagall led the Gryffindors to their familiar portrait of the fat woman in a pink
dress. Professor McGonagall had always gone off to that mysterious place that all the
teachers went (probably the teacher barracks or maybe she turned into the cat and prowled
around the school all day...), never had she come with them. Harry tried to lag behind
with Ron while trying to look inconspicuous. McGonagall was whispering to the strange girl
in the white robes.
Inside the Common Room ("Pixie Dust!" being said to the
fat lady), McGonagall stood in front of the fire, her entire face was lost and only her
silhouette could be seen. It was a very creepy image. Harry shivered again, counting the
number of times he'd been spooked already. It had to at least be four. What's wrong
with me? He thought absently, and then McGonagall began to speak.
"As you have noticed, we've received a student in her fifth
year." All eyes in the Common Room zoomed towards the shrinking girl standing almost
directly behind the Transmogrification teacher with an almost audible noise. McGonagall
continued. "She is originally from a school up in Norway."
"... not positive on the places around the world with
winter right now, but anything extremely north, like Norway..."
"It's a delicacy in Norway."
"All the way from Norway? What are you doing in
Scotland?"
McGonagall reached behind her and almost roughly put the girl in
front of her. She stood, clenched tight and hiding her face from everyone. Slowly, the
professor pulled back her hood to reveal a girl with light blonde hair that fell
underneath her robes and blazing eyes that were so blue; they started Harry a bit. She
looked extremely tiny, like she's snap if someone touched her wrong.
The girl's eyes drifted over the students, glazed and like a deer
that had just been surrounded by a pack of wolves. Unlike normal, she didn't hesitate on
Harry, or his scar and he frowned. She clenched her hands into fists in front of her and
looked up at McGonagall.
"Where is my room?" The words were carefully said, as if
she didn't want to mess them up. The professor asked Angelina to take the girl up to her
room. She then turned back to the accumulation of students, her face going hard.
"I expect for you all to be on your best behavior and
represent Hogwarts well. If I hear of any problems..." She let the threat hang off,
glancing at almost everyone directly in the eyes. McGonagall pointed her wand at Fred and
George, who barely resisted diving out of the way. "Especially you two."
George smiled uneasily. "Aww Professor McGonagall, you don't
trust us?" The look said, 'no'.
The teacher left and the room grew abuzz with chatter. Harry
dropped his head into his hands and slowly lifted it up, motioning to Ron. Ron came over,
dropping next to Harry in the chair.
"Something weird is going on here." Harry said quietly,
trying not to be overheard by any of the other students. Ron nodded.
"I can guess why Aurors are here, but I didn't know Hogwarts
accepted exchange students." Silence fell between them for a while. Soon however,
curiosity overcame them. Both boys gave each other funny looks.
"Do you think Aurors can see through Invisible Cloaks?"
Continued...
Like? I hope so. Tell me what you think below or
email me at angelfire2996@yahoo.com thanks!
P.S. if I spelled Trawlany or Flitwick or Aurors or anything else wrong, I'm sorry! I
can't find my books! ARGH! |
Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali
By: Notus Lethe