Chapter Fourteen:
Severus Snape sat uneasily in his high backed chair set at the far end of the staff table. His eyes wandered over the amassed student body, sitting in their houses at four long tables spanning the length of the Great Hall. His own house's table, adorned with banners and runners of emerald and silver conversed noisily, rudely ignoring Dumbledore's repeated calls for quiet. A shot of golden sparks erupting from the tip of the headmaster's wand brought about an instant hush however and the elderly wizard began his customary welcoming speech from his chair in the centre of the table.
"Students, I welcome you to another year at Hogwarts," his resonant voice intoned. "This year will be an uncertain one for many of us; the events of last term and the summer months have told us that much. The best we can do in the current situation is to carry on as normal, all the while hoping for and working towards a happy conclusion to this most unfortunate episode. Many of you will have questions that need answering, and I regret to say that I cannot provide all the answers that you so desire. However, this school has been and will continue to be a united community, and within our community I know that you will never find yourself alone."
The headmaster's searching gaze lingered upon the Slytherin table, where a great deal of nudging and smirking was going on. A blond haired boy leant over to his neighbour, a thick set boy with an out-grown pudding basin haircut, and whispered something to him, an unpleasant grin spreading over his pointed features. The pair snickered then turned the attention back to Dumbledore, still sneering nastily.
Snape frowned slightly at the discourteous behaviour of his house. At best, Slytherin were a dissentious pack of brats, most of them vastly over-privileged and under-disciplined. Malfoy was a prime example, he thought bitterly to himself. Though he undoubtedly favoured the boy in public, in private he considered him a thoroughly unpleasant young man, who bore a marked resemblance to his equally disagreeable father. His pale hands clenched under the obscuring folds of his robes as he watched Malfoy and his allies jeer at the headmaster's words, itching to slap the boy hard for his impertinence. That however, was something that he could never let himself do, so closely tied he was to Malfoy senior. The slightest hint of animosity shown to Draco would certainly result in a rather harsh retribution from his father, and he reflected, unconsciously running his slim fingers over his forearm, that was something he could do without.
Dumbledore had finished his short speech and had sat down, giving the platform over to Professor McGonagall who set down a rickety looking wooden stool and unrolled a large sheet of parchment.
"Antink, Camilla!" she called out to a now totally silent hall.
A tiny first year with long strawberry blond braids stepped out of line and walked nervously to the stool. She sat down, her legs swinging inches above the ground, and McGonagall carefully placed the decrepit old hat upon her head. A moment later it straightened itself out and raucously shouted "Hufflepuff!" A deafening cheer arose from he Hufflepuff table as the first student of the new year shyly took her place amongst her yellow and black clad housemates.
Eleanora stood at the very end of the line, leaning herself against the rough stone wall, her eyes curiously surveying each new student with interest. She caught the eyes of Ron, Harry and Hermione, sitting in the midst of the scarlet and golden Gryffindor table and smiled anxiously at them. Harry gave her the thumbs up as the last of the first years were sorted, and she drew ever closer to he front of the line.
As she let her gaze linger on the platform, she caught the eyes of the potions master, sitting at the staff table, a bored frown etched upon his face. Their eyes met and once again Eleanora felt an almost imperceptible skip in her already racing heartbeat, as he glowered at her. She tore her eyes away and instead concentrated hard upon the remaining first years.
However, Snape having allowed himself a small surge of satisfaction at his victory in their staring match, was unable to keep his eyes off her, standing as she was, conspicuously tall amongst the first years and radiant in the overhead glow of a thousand floating candles. The subtle shadows cast upon her face darkened her eyes and gave her face a depth that spoke to him of intrigue and enigma. He sighed inwardly and reluctantly turned to stare down at his as yet empty place setting. His eyes felt heavy and leaded from lack of sleep. He had tossed and turned for hours the previous night, his blood still simmering from his heated encounter with the girl hours before. He remembered how his breath had died in his chest as she had rummaged around the pockets of those scandalous shorts, and he chastised himself for the hundredth time, locking away the thoughts that he had no right to think, let alone mull over again and again the dark watches of the night, alone in his fire-lit chambers.
Dumbledore's voice rose again from down the table as he stood slowly and announced,
The next student to be sorted is Eleanora D'Souza. Miss D'Souza is a fifth year exchange student from Beauxbatons. As you know, exchange students have to choice of which house they are to be affiliated with, but Miss D'Souza has decided to place herself at the discretion of our Sorting Hat."
Eleanora felt her stomach constrict into a knotted rag as she stepped onto the low platform, the eyes of the whole school upon her. As McGonagall placed the musty smelling hat over her head, obscuring her gaze, she heard the low hum of whispered conversation running thought-out the hall.
"Crikey," a sandy haired boy at the Gryffindor table muttered, his eyebrows shooting up into his untidy mop of hair.
"Cop a load of that," the blond haired Slytherin smirked to his cronies, their faces agog in dumb fixation at the girl sat before them. A pug faced girl sat opposite him stared at her in intense dislike, her unattractive features creased with ugly antipathy.
Eleanora tried to block out the drone of voices and instead attempted to concentrate on the voice that now seemed to be coming from inside her own head.
"Interesting," mused the voice, creaking with age, "very interesting. Another D'Souza for me to place. Your father was a born Gryffindor if ever I saw one; brave, loyal and fiercely independent."
Eleanora's lip curled into a slight frown as the hat extolled the many virtues of her father. "You're meant to be sorting me," she thought hotly, "not my bloody father."
"Well said!" laughed the voice loudly. "You've certainly got a temper on you!"
The laughter faded into conspicuous silence, broken by the occasional pondering from the hat; "Bright" it asserted, "quick to act, not afraid of hard work, easily bored….My my, you are a tricky one. I'm at a bit of a loss to be truthful…Hmmm"
Eleanora suddenly became conscious that she had been perched upon the stool under the watch of the school for well over a minute now.
"What's taking so long?" she thought irritably to herself.
"Impatient too," the hat admonished. "Well, this isn't going to go down well at all, but I've got no choice but to sort you into:" It paused dramatically:-
"ARROWSBANE!"
A stunned silence descended over the hall immediately silencing the impatient whispers. Several mouths gaped open and other turned to stare at the house mates in confusion and bewilderment.
Eleanora tore the hat off her head, standing up suddenly, knocking over the unsteady stool. She stared at the now limp hat in her hands in bafflement, oblivious to the growing number of stares directed at her. She glanced over at her godfather who was looking at her curiously, his brow furrowed with puzzlement.
"What the hell?" she mouthed at him, her burgeoning discomfiture painting two vivid flags of pink across her cheeks.
Snape adjusted his posture, craning his neck to read the silent words formed on the girl's lips, the cogs of his mind whirring at extraordinary speed ruthlessly dissecting what he had just witnessed. An incident of this kind was unheard of, or at least had been until this girl had upset the system somehow. The Sorting Hat was never wrong, yet here it was placing a student, all be it an abnormal one, into a non-existent house. His thoughts were interrupted by Albus signalling for quiet once again and instructing McGonagall to take the hat from his god daughter. As she did so, she whispered something in the girl's ear.
"Don't worry dear, we'll sort it out and you can have another try." She smiled kindly at the flustered girl, before carrying the hat over to Dumbledore still seated at the table.
Eleanora felt supremely embarrassed, standing in the middle of the platform, the unwitting subject of the whole schools gaze. She caught the eye of Hermione who smiled encouragingly. She could not bring herself to return the smile and instead stared at her godfather who was waving his wand at the hat, positioned innocuously on the table.
When satisfied that he had corrected the fault, he handed it back to McGonagall who placed it once again on Eleanora's head. Almost before it had touched her, it screamed –
GRYFFINDOR!"
After a second's uncertain silence the Gryffindor table erupted into boisterous cheers, Harry, Ron and Hermione jumping up from their seats to congratulate her as she eagerly vacated the platform and half ran to the sanctuary of her new house-mates, Hermione's friendly hug fending off the inquisitive gawping of the other houses.
As she sat down between her new friends, amidst a myriad of whispered greetings from the other students, she allowed her eyes to traverse over the staff table and to rest upon her figure of Professor Snape. He sat, she noted, strangely erect, his obsidian eyes boring into her, though she was certain he could not perceive her gaze from his distant position. A strange expression marked his face, a mixture of new found interest and curiosity. Her heart skipping at the thought of being caught mooning at him in such a manner, she focused of the rapidly materialising platters of food that were appearing in front of her, eagerly immersing herself in conversation to drive the thought of the potions master from her mind.
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Worry not readers: All will be explained in the next chapter, should be posted in about a week's time. In the meantime, leave me a review! Go on, you know you want to!