Chapter 4 - Sortings and Surprises
The door swung smoothly open to reveal a tall, older witch in green robes, black hair held back in a tight, neat bun, eyes stern behind square spectacles.
Hagrid inclined his head to the woman muttering, "Professor," then rushing off through a doorway to the right where the drone of hundreds of young voices emanated into the hall. And speaking of the hall, it was huge, definitely in Cat's top five biggest rooms ever seen list. It was lit with torches, braced along the walls and, looking up, Cat could see that she actually couldn't see the ceiling. Before them, a great marble staircase led to the upper floors.
The professor surveyed the group of first years, her eyes coming to a rest on Cat with that same unreadable expression she'd seen in Hagrid's eyes.
Finally, she motioned for the students to follow her across the stone floor to a smallish room off the hall. They crowded in, Cat hanging back near the door while the professor turned to address them:
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."
At this point, the Professor McGonagall started to describe a bit about the Sorting and the various houses. Cat had already heard all she needed to know from Draco. You put on a hat and it tells you your house based on something in your head. Draco, apparently, was confident that she'd be put in Slytherin, like every Malfoy who had ever attended Hogwarts. Cat certainly hoped not. Slytherin seemed like nothing but a Junior Death Eater factory, from Draco's tales.
The professor finished her little speech and left briefly. She returned to lead the now lined-up students out of the room, across the entrance hall and into the Great Hall.
Cat allowed herself to feel a bit of awe as she took in the thousands of floating candles, the students ranged out at four long tables and finally the ceiling which seemed to open right onto the sky. Cat could tell that it must be some kind of illusion for the rain, which had been falling steadily since that morning, stopped several feet above her head. Finally, Cat looked up to the head table in the centre of which sat the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He was old, no doubt about that, Cat thought, look at that beard. But his eyes told a different story.
Professor McGonagall was now placing a three-legged stool in front of the line of first years, on top of which she placed a patched and frayed Wizard's hat. I've got to put that on my head! It's dirty!
For a moment there was complete silence as everyone in the hall stared at the hat. Suddenly, a rip near its brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat sang:
Though I may not be looking great,
You'll have to understand,
I've been around a good long while,
Been passed from hand to hand.
My job here at this School of Craft
Is one of great import.
I put the people in their place
My job here is to sort.
Yet before I set right to it
Let us keep this all in mind,
That we must stand united,
Leave what differences you'll find.
Now the Sorting must be done,
The students must be placed,
Come put me on your head,
I'll give your thoughts a taste.
Be you bold and brave of deed,
Or cunning as a snake,
If knowledge is what you most crave,
Or loyalty in your make.
When it seemed the hat had finished, the students broke into mostly enthusiastic applause. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat once the clapping died down and stepped forward.
"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted," she said. "Alder, Carey!"
As each name was called out and the student to which it belonged was sorted to applause from one table or another, Cat looked around at the students who would be her peers for the next two years. She could see Dean sitting beside his friend, Seamus, smiling at her and waving subtly. She smiled back, trying to impress that image on her brain. She was sure she wouldn't be seeing it directed at her again. Finally, her name was called, "Malfoy, Caterina!"
Cat fixed her eyes on the hat as she walked towards it. She didn't want to see Dean's reaction. Just before she lowered the hat over her eyes, they met with Dumbledore's, seeing a certain curiosity mixed with...was that hope?
The hat lowered, blocking her view and a small voice spoke inside her ear.
"Well, this is new. Ah, but a Malfoy eh? No question there. SLY-!"
"Wait!" She whispered vehemently. "Wait, please, don't judge me for my name. I want to be sorted fairly."
"Fairplay? From a Malfoy? This is new! Alright then, girl. Let's see what's in this head of yours. Well, your certainly bold, and I see a certain courage their too. Nerve, talent for sure. Lot's of independence. I can't believe I'm doing this but...GRYFFINDOR!"
Cat smiled slightly, then composed her mask before removing the hat. The first thing she saw was Dumbledore's face looking strangely content. She then turned to take in Draco's expression of shock, visible even from her vantage point. She allowed herself a small smirk as she walked quickly to the Gryffindor table. The smirk melted when she saw Dean, eyes downcast, his friend Seamus glaring at her. She sat down at the very end of the table near a couple of first years. Well, no one ever said being a revolutionary was a pleasant task. Nor a popular one. The thought was entirely unreassuring.
Cat's thoughts were interrupted as Professor Dumbledore stood, commanding the attention of every student in the hall. His twinkling blue eyes surveyed all before him,
"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts. As most of you know, the Ministry of Magic has now officially acknowledged the return of Lord Voldemort." He continued, seemingly unaware as most of the student body flinched, "Know also that while you remain within the walls of Hogwarts, you are safe. As such, visits to Hogsmeade village will be cancelled. I realize that many of you will be disappointed at this, but after much deliberation, it has been decided that your safety was just a smidge more important," He smiled slightly at that. "Also, as usual, the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden, and severe punishments will be given out to those who transgress this rule. I would also like to welcome the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody, who, you may rest assured, I have made absolutely sure is really Mr. Moody. That said, let the feast begin." Dumbledore resumed his seat as food appeared on the plates before them. Some, indeed, most of the foods were quite foreign to Cat but she decided to throw caution to the wind and try everything. Cat ate in silence, as the first years around her chatted and got to know each other. Occasionally one would look at her curiously but she ignored them, concentrating instead on her dinner. Finally, just as Cat was about to sample some sweet looking substance that sat before her, one of the first years turned to her, apparently nervous, judging by the way he kept looking back at his fellows,
"Er, excuse me, but we were all just wondering...I mean to say, why aren't you with the rest of the older students? If you don't mind... I, er, don't mean to be rude or anything," the young boy gulped slightly, looking slightly afraid. Cat thought about how she should answer this question. She could be a typical Malfoy and tell him to shut his trap. But then, if that was what she really wanted, why hadn't she just let the Hat put her in Slytherin? The answer of course, was that she didn't want to be a typical Malfoy. She saw no attraction in being a Death Eater, having witnessed to many times her parents coming home after being punished for their failures in Voldemort's service. She'd kept up her cold demeanour while at Malfoy Manor to allay any suspicions from her aunt and cousin. She certainly didn't need them knowing that she didn't share their beliefs, not while she was required to live under their roof. But now she was at Hogwarts. Things could be different here. Granted, Draco was here, and would probably be keeping an eye on her, especially now that she wasn't in Slytherin. But, maybe, she should just ignore Draco. By the time the end of the year came around, she'd have inherited all of her family's wealth as she'd be seventeen. She could easily live in the old house, or sell it and find herself something smaller and closer to Hogwarts. It was this last that decided her. She could be totally independent of her family, and of the prospect of joining Voldemort. Finally, she turned back to the questioning boy, who was starting to look sick with apprehension, and smiled.
"The truth is, I don't really know any of them. Well, I do sort of know one of them, but I don't think he wants to be my friend any more."
Emboldened by her answer, he perked up and the sick look disappeared from his features, "Why?"
"Because I'm a Malfoy, and they think that automatically means I'm not a very good person. My family is sort of notorious for being....bad. What's your name, kid?"
"Clayton Swett. What's yours?"
"Caterina. Call me Cat though. Well, what about the rest of you?" The rest of the first years who had been looking at Clayton with a sort of awe on their small faces now started to sit up and introduce themselves. Cat was pleasantly surprised by the total lack of prejudice that they presented her with. She knew it would be spoiled soon enough but she revelled in it for now.
***
"Come on, mate, let it go. You barely even knew the girl, it's no great loss really. I mean, she's a Malfoy, for goodness sake." Dean looked up at his best friend, Seamus, as he tried to comfort him. He shook his head and continued to absently put food into his mouth. He didn't really want to talk about it with Seamus. He didn't understand. He'd been lied too. She'd claimed to be someone she was not, and Dean was left wondering whether any of what she'd said during the train trip was true. And with her being a Malfoy, he wondered idly whether she would even have given him the time of day if she'd known he was a Muggle-born. Then he realized that she must have known he was a Muggle-born, with the way he'd been talking about football and things from home. This thought left him even more confused as he looked down the length of the table where she sat now. He was surprised to see her, a group of first years gathered around her, talking animatedly while they seemed to hang on her every word. Why couldn't she have been something other than a Malfoy?
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Special thanks to flying-piggy-123 for reading and reviewing. At least I know someone appreciates my story. :-) I hope you enjoy this chapter.