"Your schedule's here."
Anne took the paper Mark handed to her, listlessly scanning over it. Her heart
leaped a bit as she noticed that the majority of her classes were shared with
the Gryffindors, except for the dismal exceptions of
Transfiguration and Divination. Mark, who was sitting to her left at the
Slytherin table the morning after the Sorting, noticed the delighted expression
on her face. A classic Malfoy sneer appeared instantaneously.
"Happy that you're with your Gryffindor friends?
Remember that it's still just us Slytherins at night."
Anne's hand rose to her temples, exasperated with Mark and the situation in
general. After a moment she lowered them, solemnly meeting Mark's eyes.
"I'm really sorry about what I said last night. I was just upset."
Mark cocked a brow. "Upset that now you're stuck with me?"
"Of course it's not you!" Anne exclaimed. She paused as she realized
how that statement sounded. "Erm, I mean, any of
your friends, too. It's just not what I expected, or anyone in my family for
that matter."
Mark shrugged. "Who cares what your family thinks?" An impish grin
appeared on his face when he observed her expression. "I get it, you do.
But your family doesn't always know what's best for you, you know. That's the
Sorting Hat's area."
The conversation ceased as Mark averted his attention zealously to his
breakfast. Anne, however, appeared to have lost her appetite. That's the Sorting Hat's area. He was
right, she realized. It was the Sorting Hat's purpose in "life" to
choose what house each student went to, and she had never heard of a mistake
being made before. So what did that mean about her?
That she was perfect Slytherin material, she realized dismally. The first Potter in her recollection to be in this house, the house
that was known for producing some of the vilest wizards of all time. Was
she as evil and manipulative as those who set the precedent for the sort of
people that entered this house? Heaving a great sigh, she rocked back into her
chair, gaze wandering around the packed Great Hall.
Anne's attention was perked by a group sitting in the row in front of her. Her
lip curled in disgust as she heard their cruel comments and crude jokes. She
wasn't like them, she firmly decided. She did not believe in what they did, no
matter what the Sorting Hat said. The mystery of why she was placed her was
still predominant in her thoughts, yet to dwell on it much longer would surely
shatter her fragile faith in herself.
Anne's attention was caught as she heard a particular word: Voldemort. A shiver of fear passed
through her, yet she listened attentively. The speaker was an older blonde
girl, surrounded by a close-knit group of young men and women around the same
age.
"They said think they've actually defeated us," she murmured, a smirk
appearing upon her face. "What simple minded fools. Oh," she
sarcastically began, "take out the mothership and the
rest will surely be defeated as well!" Her friends chuckled at her snide joke.
"Let them wait and see . . . the Dark Lord is coming back . . ."
Anne was confused by these comments, yet they filled her with a sense of
unease. Voldemort was gone. He wasn't even a factor in her lifetime! How could
he be coming back? She turned to Mark, excited to notice that he was listening
to the girl as well.
"What do they mean?" she whispered into his ear.
Mark turned quickly to face her, the intense expression on his face shocking.
"What did you hear?" he replied.
Anne nervously shrugged. "Everything, I guess."
Mark's eyes narrowed. "You're not supposed to hear stuff like that. You're
a Gryffindor at heart, you know. I'd give you ten minutes to snitch! Crap, you guys always want to take us down,
don't you?" His voice never raised above a
furious whisper, yet the anger in his eyes was shocking.
"You're the one who said that the Sorting Hat never makes mistakes,"
she calmly reminded him, shocking even herself. Was she admitting to this? No, of course not. "I'm in Slytherin, remember? Maybe
I'm not quite what you imagined I'd be."
Mark paused, appearing to be mulling over this fact. On odd expression appeared
on his face, and he finally shrugged, shoving out his chair and standing
abruptly up.
"You heard them. The Dark Lord is coming back." With that last
statement he walked away, leaving Anne all alone with this horrifying new
knowledge.
A/N – Um, kinda sad ending, but gimme
a ring of if can think of anything better! Oh, and by the way, I KNOW that first-years don't take Divination. Read the prologue.
