Again, as I have said, I do not own any rights to the HP storylines, characters, books or associated publications.
"So, what are your names?" she ventured, making a pathetic attempt at continuing the conversation. Of course, she already knew their names, as Severus ranted on about "Those bloody Gryffindors!" so much. He really should shut up about them.
"Um, that's Ron, that's Harry and I'm Hermione." the girl said quietly. She had obviously heard of Daniels reputation in the Wizarding world. Still, quite bravely of her, she extended her hand. Daniel reached out and shook it briefly. Hermione drew it away quickly. Too quickly. Daniel noticed and their eyes met briefly. Hermione wouldn't look at her straight. Harry, who was oblivious to all of this, (by the look on Ron's face, he knew all about her too)and not surprising as he lived with the Dursleys, asked,
"Where do you live then?"
"London." she replied curtly.
"Where in London?" asked Hermione, in the annoying tones of someone who thinks they have won something.
"In Oxford, near Bichester." she said smoothly.
"You live with your parents?" said Ron, in the same nerve-grating note of supremacy.
"What's with all the questions?" she asked quietly, staring absent-mindedly out of the window.
"Just wondered." said Ron.
As she continued to watch the blur of green fly past the window, the plump little witch with the sweetie-trolley came into the compartment. Refusing the confectionary, she glanced at her watch. Half-past twelve. Had an hour and a half really passed? It must have done. Watches rarely decide to lie. Unless they're wizarding watches, which occasionally stop or tell you the wrong time on purpose, just to make you miss an appointment, or just to piss you off. Watches have a twisted sense of humor. She felt someone tap her shoulder.
"We're going to arrive in Hogsmeade soon, so you better get your robes on." said Harry. The weather had changing dramatically without her noticing. It was pouring down. And she had to cross the bloody lake.
"Do you have to sorted?" said Ron.
"Yeah." she said gloomily. "And I have to cross that." She spat, pointing to the lake, which was being whipped up into a frenzy by the strong winds.
"See you in the Great Hall then." he said, walking over to one of those horseless carriages. She gave a small sigh, and walked over to the tiny little boats with the First-Years. Clambering into one, she waited for the hysterical little eejits to get in as well. Some of them recognized her from the station, and refused point-blank to get in the boat with her, even though they didn't know why. When three had finally settled in the boat, she began to try to negotiate the oars. Complicated business. She managed to get them halfway across the lake, when the waves got the better of them. And the rest of the fleet. Screams arose from the boat next to her when a small boy tumbled into the turbulent water. Well, if she was going to establish a reputation in Hogwarts, she might as well be a heroine. She gave the oars to her frightened crew, and dived in. She could she see the boy now, panicking, the worst thing (even though it's the only thing) to do when you're drowning. She grabbed him and shoved him into his boat. She glanced around for her boat. Bastards! she screamed mentally. They were nearly at the other side. She felt someone grab her arm and hoist her out of the water. She was dumped roughly into a boat and given an oar. It was the groundskeeper, Hagrid. The first years in this boat were soaked to the skin. The rain had nearly filled the boat. The weight got too great by the time they reached the far shore. The boat actually sunk when the water was still about twelve feet deep. They had to swim to rejoin the rest of the throng. She didn't mind though. The tallest first year was up to her elbow. They walked up to the castle, and were joined by who was obviously Professor McGonagall.
"What happened them Hagrid?" she asked worriedly, looking at the all them little cold faces, and listening to the sound of collective shivering.
"The storm happened, Professor." he said.
"They look like drowned rats." said a familiar voice behind McGonagall. Severus Snape stepped out of the shadows in the doorway. Professor McGonagall gave a small jump.
"I didn't see you there Severus." she said, her voice had that almost relieved quality of a shocked person, who realizes there was nothing to be very shocked about.
"That was the intention." he said quietly, scanning the crowd. Daniel giggled, and his head snapped around to look at her. He always acted as though he were a supreme being, indulging himself in the company of mere mortals. "Is something amusing you?" he snapped, acting as though he didn't know her.
"Oh no, of course not, Professor." she had a way of saying 'Professor' as though it were the worst insult on earth.
"Well, I think we had better get this lot inside before they all catch pneumonia." said Professor McGonagall briskly. Ushering the crowds inside, she said something to Snape.
(A/N: From now on, to avoid confusion, Professor Snape will be referred to as such, or just Snape. Any other Snape mentioned will, of course, be Daniel.)
He nodded, and strode off towards the Great Hall.
"Daniel!" called McGonagall, walking quickly over to her. "You will be sorted last, separate from the first-years."
"O.k." she replied in a small voice. She wasn't exactly keen on being sorted at all. She'd be in Slytherin anyway. No question about that.
She wasn't looking forward to mind-wrestling with that damn Sorting Hat. Who would guess that a piece of clothing a beggar wasn't fit to wear would be so bloody pompous? The doors in front of them swung open, and they filed into the Hall. The first-years walked down between the tables as though they didn't really want to be seen. Daniel had never understood this. They were what this whole ceremony focused around. They couldn't 'not' be noticed. She was aware of the eyes watching her, and the excited whispering between the testosterone-fuelled population of the Great Hall. Someone had the audacity to wolf-whistle. They reached the clearance where the Sorting Hat rested on a small stool.
One by one, the first years skulked forwards to be sorted. When it came to her turn, Dumbledore stood up.
"I would like to take this opportunity to welcome two people to the Hogwarts community." he said smiling down at her. She pleaded mentally not to mention her, even though she knew he was talking about her and Mad Eye Moody, who was sitting beside Snape. She looked more carefully at Snape. He was trying to sit as far away from the man as he possibly could without sitting on Professor Mc Gonagall.
"The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Moody." he continued, Daniel clapped. Anyone who scared Snape was worthy of applause.
"And a fourth year student who is being transferred from Durmstrang Academy, Daniel Snape."
There was no applause. She suddenly felt very embarrassed. As the pupils began to realize what was required of them, they began to clap. More people wolf-whistled. Several members of the faculty clapped, even Snape did, but only because Moody had elbowed him in the ribs when he didn't. Professor McGonagall motioned for her to put on the Hat. She walked forwards and put it on. Almost immediately, it yelled out,
"Slytherin!"
Looking relieved, she walked down to the Slytherin table amid cheers, claps, and more wolf whistles. The only available seat was beside Draco Malfoy, which she occupied reluctantly. After Dumbledore expressed his delight at them all returning this year, the trays filled up with food. The people surrounding her immediately began bombarding her with questions, which she answered as best she could with a mouthful of chicken. She kept certain details private though, the obvious stuff. Family, address, phone number, and the location of Durmstrang (she knew of course). When dessert arrived, she simply couldn't eat any more. Having consumed almost an entire roast chicken, (she was rather addicted to chicken) and broken the wishbone with a boy across the table called Blaise Zabini, (she won, and wished there was more chicken) and then ate about four baked potatoes with various fillings, (chicken, chicken and cheese, chicken and beans and salad cream with those crispy breadcrumb things) she was stuffed, and could barely move her torso. As she watched the ice cream melt, she felt strangely empty. Stupid hyperactive metabolism. She felt hungry again. She ate a slice of Black Forest Gateaux, and then bet Malfoy ten galleons that he couldn't eat the remainder of the cake. He couldn't. It was always a satisfying feeling, getting money from a Malfoy.