Chapter Two: Green and Red

Lia ran a hand through her waist-long crimson mane, shifting her weight to her left foot. She wasn't nervous, but she hated being amongst all the younger children, as her impressive height stood out among them. Finally, her name was called. "Lupin, Fidekilia." A ripple of noise went through the great hall, all eyes trained on her. Remus, seated at the teacher's table, dropped his gaze to the floor. She looked far too much like her mother. He saw nothing of himself in her. Perhaps that's for the best, he thought, yet it pained him that she looked so like Ariel, and bore no resemblance to him. Maybe if I had been there for her...Maybe if I hadn't responded to Dumbledore's call that he was re-forming the Order...maybe she could call me father...maybe...
Lia scanned the staff table as she approached the stool and the singing hat. Her mother said that her father was a teacher, so which one was he? She hoped he wasn't the one with the greasy hair, or the short one. Somehow, she found it hard to believe her father had been short. NONE of these men looked like her father, not the abnormally large and hairy one, nor the youngish one with premature grey hair and ratty clothes. But one of them had to be. For the bazillionth time, she cursed her mother. Why couldn't she have just married another mermaid? Then, Lia wouldn't have the stigma of illegitimacy, and her own grandfather wouldn't cringe each time he chanced to look at her. She sat on the stool, and the old lady dropped the torn-up hat on her. It fell over her eyes, so she couldn't see anything. When a small voice whispered in her ear, she jumped.
"A bastard child, I see..." Fury filled her, almost so much that she was ready to rip that hat to shreds. And stomp on it with her new feet. "You are far from your home, in the sea, and you miss it, that's plain. Well, it's well known that bastard children are the most devious, so perhaps I shall put you in Slytherin. But.. this love of fixing things you have...most Hufflepuff-ish. And there's intelligence, oh, all that creativity...perhaps Ravenclaw? Ah, but you have the heart of a warrior, so maybe Gryffindor? Dammit, but you're hard to sort." Well, I'm so fucking sorry, she thought. She still hated this stupid hat. How dare it know so much about her? She wanted to just swim away...but they had taken her fins, her mother had done something and they were gone. All she had were these twice-damned feet. "That's harsh," commented the hat, "But I understand. You have lost your mother, you do not know you're father...poor child. I pity you. Well, I can see that the only thing I can do is leave the choice to you. Pick which house you want to be in." She was bewildered. How in fucking hell was she supposed to know which fucking house she was going to be in? She mentally thought about the tables in front of her, and the people in them. Which ones did she want to know? Well, hell to all of them, truthfully, but... Whatever. That G one. "Gryffindor?" said the hat. Yeah. Whatever. "Good choice. GRYFFINDOR!" screamed the hat, so everyone could hear. She yanked the hat off, threw it on the stool, then stomped down to the table where everyone was cheering. Why the fuck would they cheer for her? She was just a fucking bastard mermaid girl. She slumped onto the bench, staring at the table. The plates and cups were all gold. Tears sprang to her eyes, as she remembered her fins. They had gold on them, just like this... A boy next to her poked her on the shoulder. She dashed the tears from her eyes angrily and looked up into the greenest eyes she had ever seen.
"Excuse me, miss, are you all right? Why were you crying?" she was about to yell, but she was struck by his eyes, and his kind smile. She couldn't say anything, for a moment. The boy on his other side, with hair almost as red as hers,
"Yeah, does this mean you didn't want to be in Gryffindor?" The idea seemed to shock him, for some reason. She shook her head.
"I just want to go home." she said. The green-eyed boy shook his head.
"Hm. Hogwarts is my home. I hate going home for the summer." That was something she hadn't thought about. Would her mother let her come home for the holidays? She hoped so.
"Fuck summer. I want to go home now." They didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so Green changed the subject.
"Why did you just get sorted now? You're not eleven, are you?" She drew herself up, feeling insulted.
"Hell, no! I'm sixteen. And I just got sorted because...because my asshole of a grandfather exiled me." Red looked surlyy for some reason.
"What did you do to get exiled?" he snapped, suddenly hostile. She flared back at him, her temper as firey as her hair.
"Nothing except be born without a father!" Red looked immediately contrite and horrified.
"Oh-oh-I'm sorry..." he muttered. Green shook his head and held out his hand.
"Don't mind him. My name is Harry, Harry Potter." She disregared his hand.
"Fidekilia," she replied coolly. Red nodded at her.
"And I'm Ron Weasley." She nodded back. Well, if Harry thought this was his home, wonderful for him. For her, all she wanted was her mother's grotto, and something to fix, something to do with her hands. She twisted her hands in a knot. Even so, Harry reminded her of her pen pal back at home, Will Turner. Not that they looked a thing alike, but Harry had the same adventurous streak as Will. She loved Will, loved him with all her heart....but Harry was here, and Will was all the way back in the Carribbean. And another thing, if this was the Harry Potter, both he and Will were orphaned. Another reason they were alike... The old wizaard with long white hair and beard stood after everyone had been sorted. "Let the feast begin!" he proclaimed.