by: Star Bunny
rated: PG
Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy belongs to JKR... and so do most of my other characters... and quite a few of my plot devices... and a bunch of the quotes. But I do own Wade Wadsworth, the brave, heroic, and very cute. ^_~
Note: You'll notice that I'm taking quite a few quotes from the books, but I'm also making up some scenes. Anything I make up is subject to be revised should future Harry Potter novels contradict what I've written. I want this to be as close to canon as possible. :)
Spoilers: PS and CoS so far. Eventually all four.
Chapter 4 - Slytherin
Draco pulled his robe tighter as he looked around the cold station. He could see other students pushing to get off of the train, jostling each other and sometimes foolishly bumping into him. Draco sent them a look so dark that, had he not been a wizard fully in control of his powers, they might have found themselves on the bottom of the lake he had heard of - or so he liked to think.
Crabbe and Goyle had now joined him, but Draco was not interested in company just now. The huge man that he had seen in the robe shop with Harry Potter (Hagrid, was it?) was bellowing through the crowd in a most frightful way, casing Draco yet another distraction.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Draco was sickened at the way Potter waved back at the man - he seemed to actually like the company of the git.
"C'mon, follow me-any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
The group of first years, finally assembled, followed the giant down a narrow path through what must have been a forest. It was very quiet except for an occasional sniffle from a clumsy-looking boy towards the back and the rustle of the wind through the trees.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here."
And what a sight it was! Draco was quite speechless... Hogwarts was everything people had told him, and more. There was a collective "Oooooh!" from the students as they gazed at the castle across the lake. Draco did so appreciate beauty, and Hogwarts was exactly like what he would have wanted his school to be. He began to imagine himself sleeping up in one of the turrets, staring out at the lake and watching the stars. Yes, he could get used to this.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Draco was startled from his thoughts by the gamekeeper getting them all settled into boats to cross the lake. Draco climbed in to an empty one, the ever-faithful Crabbe and Goyle following suit. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who - much to Draco's amusement (the fat hairy lug!)- was in a boat by himself. "Right then-FORWARD!"
The boat ride was like something out of a dream - or perhaps like something out of one of his books. It was beautiful. The castle was at the top of a cliff that jutted out from the edge of the lake. The boats showed no sign of stopping as they neared the cliff, which dwarfed even the giant gamekeeper.
"Heads down!" called Hagrid, and Draco watched the first boats seemingly disappear beneath a thick growth of ivy. Draco ducked as he reached the ivy, only to find that it concealed a deep tunnel in the cliff face. The end of the trip was not nearly so breathtaking, although it was a bit thrilling to be riding in a boat underneath the school in a tunnel so dark you couldn't see the next turn. At last the tunnel widened to form a harbor, and the boats all slowed to a stop. Draco climbed out onto the shore as gracefully as he could manage.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid grunted from one of the boats.
Draco raised his head in amusement; bringing a toad to Hogwarts was tantamount to an admission of social ineptitude. The boy in question, the one who had been crying on the walk down, held out his hands excitedly, suddenly all smiles, and cried,
"Trevor!"
Draco openly smirked, the wheels already turning in his head. Here was a perfect opportunity for him to assert himself this year. He had heard that Hufflepuffs were easy to pick on, and if this boy weren't a Hufflepuff Draco would get a toad himself! He said as much to Crabbe and Goyle, who laughed stupidly and said they would do the same.
The trio followed the rest of the group to the base of the castle. The castle was even more impressive up close then it had been from their first view on the lake. As a child, Draco had thought that there could not be another building so great in stature as his home - but although he would never admit it to anyone, Hogwarts was nearly equal to Malfoy Manor in both stature and taste.
He walked up the front steps, taking everything in while feigning an air of indifference and superiority. Hagrid paused at the door and turned around.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Draco snickered, watching the 'toad-boy' clutch Trevor tightly. But his smile faded as Hagrid pounded on the door and a nervous hush fell over the group. The door opened to reveal a rather stern-looking witch with emerald green robes and a look on her face that reminded Draco of the look on his tutor's face when he had put two scoops of salt into his tea instead of sugar.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she said, pulling the door open. If Draco had any remaining doubts that Hogwarts was a castle out of one of his books, they were laid to rest with one glance at the entrance hall. The size was not so impressive - the entrance to Malfoy Manor was comparable - but the intricate detail of the marble staircase, the sheer height of the ceiling, and the warmth of the light from the torches hinted at something that Draco could not identify, but that he knew set Hogwarts apart from anything else of this world.
The group of first years followed the Professor into a small room, where they all crowded together nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said matter-of-factly. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Draco, who knew instinctively that her words could not be directed at him, watched her gaze rest on the toad-boy's askew cape and mentally congratulated himself on his constant attention to his appearance.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
As soon as she left, a slight buzz came over the room as groups of students began discussing everything from the Sorting Ceremony to their queasy stomachs. One girl with rather bushy hair was even muttering spells to herself, complete with descriptions of each spell's most common uses.
Draco hung back at the perimeter of the group, preferring instead to watch and listen. It was a skill he had learned at many a business meeting or dinner party. There was no better way to establish your position in a group than to let others voice their opinions - or in the case of the toad-boy, wear their fears on their faces. Of course Draco was nervous; the Sorting Ceremony had every first year student biting fingernails or nursing butterflies in their stomachs. But there was no reason for Draco to announce this to the others as they were doing to him. Better keep his silence and let others assume what they will.
As a consequence to watching and listening, Draco was also the first to notice them. Ghosts, about twenty of them, and all so busy in their discussion that they failed to notice the students at first.
"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-" said a rather portly ghost wearing the robes of a monk. The ghost he was talking to was wearing a ruff and tights, and Draco thought he looked at bit like a fully dressed turkey.
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"
The students looked at each other, each hoping that someone else would answer for them.
"New students!" the Fat Friar smiled. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
Draco nodded, along with a few of the braver students.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall, coming back into the room. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line and follow me."
Draco fell into line in between Crabbe and Goyle and entered the Great Hall. The ceiling was what first caught Draco's eye. It was amazing how much it looked like the night sky - in fact, had he not known better, he might have thought that there was not a ceiling at all. When he could finally tear his gaze off of the sky, he noticed the hundreds of candles floating over the tables, the numerous people watching him, and the impressive spread of plates, goblets, and empty platters.
At the front of the room sat the teachers. Draco recognized Professor Snape from the meeting with his father and Professor Dumbledore from his collection of Chocolate Frog cards. Of course, the Dumbledore on his card had seemed a bit more... eccentric than the wise- and impressive-looking Dumbledore in front of him now.
Professor McGonagall had set a three-legged stool down and a tattered, patched hat on top with as little ceremony as possible. However, the entire hall seemed to fall under an enchanted silence as they waited for... something. The hat suddenly twitched, and then it began to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The entire Hall burst into applause, and the Sorting Hat bowed in turn to each table. Then Professor McGonagall unfurled the scroll in her hands.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
Draco watched intently as a small girl with long blonde hair placed the hat on her head - it was too large for her, and fell into the eyes - and sat down on the stool.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
Well, now. That didn't seem too bad. Perhaps this Sorting Ceremony wouldn't be as bad as it had been made to be. He relaxed a bit as McGonagall called "Bones, Susan!" up to the front. She was a Hufflepuff as well, and went to join Hannah at the Hufflepuff table - a rather boring lot, in Draco's opinion.
Draco's attention wandered for a bit as "Boot, Terry!" and "Brocklehurst, Mandy!" became Ravenclaws, but the loud and obnoxious cheering coming from the far left table when "Brown, Lavender" was revealed to be a Gryffindor jerked him rather unpleasantly back to his surroundings. He noted with distaste that there were even a pair of twins at the table catcalling as she sat down proudly among them. What a barbaric house!
The next to be sorted was "Bulstrode, Millicent," a stocky girl whose face reminded Draco of a giantess eating a lemon. She was the first Slytherin to be chosen, and the table at the far right of the Hall erupted with cheers.
"Crabbe, Vincent!"
Draco watched Crabbe plod up to the stool only half-heartedly. There was no doubt in is mind which house his friend would be in. In fact, at this point he completely lost interest in the whole process. There were simply too many students to remember. He sighed, wondering when his name might come up. In the back of his mind, he could still hear the sorting ceremony ("Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"…"HUFFLEPUFF!"… "Finnigan, Seamus!" … "GRYFFINDOR!" … "Goyle, Gregory!"…"SLYTHERIN!"), but his mind was certainly elsewhere.
As Goyle clumsily make his way to the Slytherin table, Draco's attention was drawn to a girl at the Ravenclaw table who was clapping along with the Slytherins. Now that was odd. Draco had been under the impression that none of the other houses would dream of supporting Slytherin. And even though she was clapping lazily and almost half-heartedly, it was enough of a statement that she was doing it at all.
As "Granger, Hermione!" sat on the stool, and he peered at the Ravenclaw girl with barely concealed interest. What self-respecting Ravenclaw would clap for a Slytherin?
Suddenly the crowd burst out laughing, and Draco turned to see the toad-boy run back with the Sorting Hat in his hand, face flushing. Draco smirked as the boy made his way to Gryffindor. That was just like a Gryffindor. And before he turned his attention fully back to the ceremony, he once more caught a glimse of the Ravenclaw girl... and this time she was looking at him, too. Draco froze for a moment, slightly embarrassed that he had been caught staring. But then instinct took over and he flashed her a rather bold smile. To his surprise, her mouth turned up in what looked like an amused smirk - but her eyes locked on to his and did not move.
"Malfoy, Draco!"
Had Draco been an impulsive boy, he might have winked at her before he took the stool, but as he had been taught to present himself as a true Malfoy no matter the circumstances, he simply walked up to the stool with what he hoped was a fully confident, unruffled manner. He felt one brief moment of nervousness, but it was all dispelled when the hat yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" the instant it touched his forehead.
Draco smirked, feeling quite pleased that he hat had made its decision so quickly. His father would be proud of him... and he did not miss that the Ravenclaw girl was once again clapping, giving him a slow, easy smile.
Draco sat down at the Slytherin House table, glad that the stupid ceremony was finally over. Except that it wasn't. He had conveniently forgotten that there would be more first years after him, and he sighed with barely concealed boredom as "Moon," "Nott," "Parkinson," two "Patils," and "Perks, Sally-Anne" were called. Until finally, McGonagall called out in her much-too-serious voice,
"Potter, Harry!"
The entire Hall was silent for perhaps three tenths of a second as what she had said sunk in. Then, a collective murmuring as excitement began to build.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The boy sitting to Draco's right leaned in and whispered to him, "Harry Potter at Hogwarts! Could you imagine, if he were a Slytherin?"
"Doubt it," Draco grumbled. "He's a bit of a prat." The boy gave him a funny look and turned his attention back to the Sorting. After several very tense seconds, the Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and the table on the other side of the Hall burst into raucous cheers. The twins were once again making a scene, chanting in the most annoying fashion, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
"Of all the luck!" the boy next to Draco sighed. "He had to be a Gryffindor!"
McGonagall, who seemed hardly phased that such a celebrity had joined her house, continued on with the sorting. There were only four left now. "Thomas, Dean!" -- a Gryffindor -- "Turpin, Lisa," -- a Ravenclaw -- Ron Weasley -- a Gryffindor -- and finally "Zabini, Blaise," who was the final Slytherin. As she made her way to the Slytherins, Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll, picked up the stool, and left the Hall with the Sorting Hat.
Just then, Dumbledore got to his feet.
"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
Draco took back his previous thoughts about the Headmaster. The man was a lunatic! But as the old man sat down, huge helpings of food had appeared in the golden plates in front of him, and all other thoughts immediately left his mind. Draco loved steak, and he was especially fond of roast chicken. Within seconds, his plate was full and he mouth promptly stuffed.
The boy to his right, Draco soon learned, was fourth year named Peter Warrington who was a Chaser on the House Quidditch team. This sparked a quite enthusiastic discussion about Quidditch, favorite teams, and which of the first years were interested in practicing for a chance at a position next year.
"Our team is very competitive," Peter explained. "We've won the cup every year since that blasted Seeker from Gryffindor, Charlie Weasley, graduated a few years back. In fact, we almost won it his seventh year, the ruddy git."
"Greetings, young Slytherins." Draco felt a chill at the cold, solemn voice, and turned to see a pale, thin ghost with a terribly serious face and robes splashed liberally with silver blood. The hairs on the back of Draco's neck stood up, and he had to repress the shiver of distaste and fear that went up his spine. This was no ghost like the ones in the entrance hall. There was an air of nobility mixed in with the dark power that this ghost seemed to emanate that quite frankly made Draco very uncomfortable to be sitting next to him.
"Welcome to Slytherin House. I am the Bloody Baron, resident ghost of this House. We have won the House championship for the past six years, and I think you will find it is a privilege to be a member of what is indisputably the greatest House in Hogwarts history. I expect all of you," he paused here to catch the eye of every first year, "to bring glory to this house during your stay."
Draco's appetite began to fade fast as the implications of what the Bloody Baron was saying sunk in. The way he had said it sounded more like an ultimatum than a welcome speech. Once the Baron floated away, Draco turned to Peter. "Is he always this..."
"Oh, he's nothing. Wait until you hear what Snape has to say to us tonight."
"Snape! But he's harmless."
Peter laughed shortly, and shook his head. "You just wait."
Dessert was a bit ruined for Draco, but he ate heartily nonetheless. Once the desserts had all been eaten, Professor Dumbledore stood up once more and addressed the crowd.
"Ahern-just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"
Draco chose "God Save the Queen," as he had always been fond of that tune, and joined in with the rest of the student body:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.
The tune didn't really fit with the song, but it was strangely satisfying to sing to his own tune while everyone else sang to theirs. The last to finish, of course, were the twins from the Gryffindor table. They had chosen a funeral dirge which didn't fit the song at all. Dumbledore seemed to enjoy it, though, as he conducted the last few lines with then and clapped heartily at the end.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his tear from his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
~~~
To be continued...