Disclaimer- JK Rowling, and those whom she's chosen to share them with, own the rights to the Harry Potter books and all content in them, including the mention of Hogwarts, its students, and its teachers, not I.
Reviews- Are widely welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
A/N- This chapter has only been written on a whim. I needed to fight off that muse with something. Mention of R/H just had to be included. Ever so sorry to those H/H or even D/H shippers out there.
Overshadowed, Overdressed
The next morning, Hillel woke groggy eyed and just as tired as he had been when he'd lied down to sleep the night before. He supposed it was his fault; he had stayed up for most of the night thinking back to the days in which he'd first found out about the wizarding world.
A few of his colleagues were still piled under their blankets, and Hillel supposed a bit more sleep might do wonders for his state of mind, but instead he took advantage of the empty bathroom and set to preparing for the day.
When he exited the bathroom, he seemed slightly more awake with brushed hair and a mouth free of morning breath. The others in his dorm had also awoken and they nonchalantly waved their fists at him, showing their displeasure at the long amount of time he'd spent in their only lavatory.
Still slightly bleary eyed, he didn't pay much attention to the dark robes he threw over his head. Stifling a yawn, he grabbed his Transfiguration text book and headed down the stairs of the boys' dormitory and past the yellow and black Hufflepuff common room out into the hallways spotted with cheery sunlight.
The circle of muses in the portrait he'd walked from giggled slightly at his retreating back, but Hillel paid them no attention.
Hillel felt a bit like the eleven year old boy he'd been five years ago, staring at his ruined birthday cake, as he sat down in the Great Hall, looking at the bowl of porridge in front of him. Taking an apple carelessly from the basket of piled fruit and allowing a third year to grumpily pick up the ones he'd made fall, he began to think of the day he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff.
He'd had a hard time concealing his excitement as he crossed the river in a small boat, accompanied by three other first years. They, however, didn't bother to mask their feelings and outwardly 'oohed' and 'ahhed' at the approaching castle.
Once inside, Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall and in front of a stool which sat a pointed wizard's hat.
'Weasley, Ginny!'
Professor McGonagall called, after a long list of various other names. Among them had been 'Creevey,' 'McDonnell' and 'Surgeston.' The Sorting Hat, an aged hat enchanted by wizards, immediately placed her in Gryffindor. While Hillel looked curiously at the freckled faces greeting her at the Gryffindor table, the professor called his name.
'Wizend, Hillel!'
As the hat whispered 'Humility.. And lot's of. You're of a kind soul.' Ginny's brothers were still whistling their approval for her and when placed into 'Hufflepuff!' it was barely heard over the racket.
He'd entered Hogwarts just as invisible as he was today.
Hillel looked up from his apple.
The hat had called him kind. What kind person allowed someone else to clean up after them? He decided it was the morning's doing and was about to apologize to the third year who'd neatly stacked the apples he'd cause to tumble when he noticed a laughter erupting throughout the Great Hall.
Curious, he looked around to see its source. Eyes of all sorts were pinned on him. At the Slytherin table, a seventh year boy, who Hillel knew as Draco Malfoy, stood. Allowing his voice to boom over the students' laughter he shouted to Hillel, "Trying to impress a professor, Ickle Hufflepuff?"
The comment was met with much laughter from different tables. Hillel didn't know which made him more furious. Being accused of trying to impress a professor (with what he didn't know) or being called an 'Ickle Hufflepuff', as he was only a year younger than Draco himself.
Riled up enough to retort, Hillel stood and finally noticed what the others had been laughing at.
In his morning haste, instead of his school robes, he'd thrown on his navy blue dress robes. They were surely appropriate for a ball, but not a morning breakfast. Doing his best to ignore the laughter, Hillel smiled lightly and left the hall, along with his Transfiguration text book, and walked with a more hurried pace than usual to his dorm.
In the brooding nature that so often consumed him, Hillel heard himself mutter "Not so invisible now, am I?"
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Dressed in the black school robes his mother had bought him just this past summer in Diagon Alley, Hillel once again left the Hufflepuff common room. This time he couldn't ignore the unusual noise made from behind him.
This time, however, it was not the muses' laughter. It was the mocking voice of Draco Malfoy.
"Next time, maybe you'll dress with your eyes open."
Hillel turned and frowned at the Slytherin boy, inwardly wondering what he was doing outside the Hufflepuff common room.
He then noticed his Transfiguration text book that Draco was tossing between his own hands.
"Thanks, then. For bringing my book to me."
Draco's mouth twisted into a cruel smirk and he tossed the book to Hillel who caught it easily in the air.
"Be sure to arrive tomorrow morning in a Muggle clown suit, mudblood. I'm sure it'll prove to be even more entertaining."
With his last comments said, Draco walked away leaving Hillel to wonder how he knew about his family history.
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Although taught well enough to consistently focus on the good in a person (although this was hard in Draco's case) Hillel couldn't help being a bit jealous of him.
Draco's reputation was not a good one, though. It was a known fact that he was the son of a pompous death eater and that he'd more than likely join his father once graduated from Hogwarts. Still, the infamous Malfoy name always caught more attention than the unknown Wizend.
Despite being scorned upon by most members of other houses, the female student body agreed he'd grown to be quite pleasant looking. He'd even developed into a fairly good seeker and managed to beat Gryffindor's famous Quidditch player, Harry Potter.
Draco's opponent on the Quidditch field was not only famous for his Quidditch abilities, but also his defeat of Voldemort. Although the evil presence still haunted the wizarding world, Harry had come out of top from battles with him more than once. It had all started when Voldemort had been unable to kill him as only an infant. No one knew how he did it, but the lightning scar on his head was evidence of a curse being performed on him that no one else had escaped from alive.
His two friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley didn't go without recognition either. Hermione was just about the smartest student Hogwarts had ever had and Ron had won a wizarding chess tournament just the year before and his face had been plastered throughout national newspapers. The romantically involved couple were always by Harry's side, and always providing assistance in the boy's opt for finding trouble.
Even Neville Longbottom, a horribly clumsy seventh year brought more attention to himself than anyone in the sixth year class. If only Hillel was a year older. Maybe then he too would be more than an anonymous face who one day accidentally wore dress robes to breakfast. He frowned at the thought as he trekked to his Transfiguration class, pushing the thoughts of the overshadowing seventh years away.