Chapter 1
As they got off the train, Icea chatted with Harry, Ron and Hermione. A heavy rain was falling and they rushed to get in the warmth and shelter of the Thestral Carriages. Icea was startled as she saw the grim and solemn horses; she had seen many foes of her father die.
'Icea,' said Harry, 'What year do you reckon you'll be put in?'
'I'm in sixth year. What's your age?' Ron asked.
'I turn sixteen in April,' replied Icea.
'Come on, people, and follow me!' Hermione said, pulling Icea by the hand, into the magnificent Hall. Students bustled about, calling to old friends. Harry set off toward Gryffindor table and Icea started following him, but Professor McGonagall grabbed her arm. 'Are you Icea Vester?' said the old woman.
'Y-yes… yes, I am.' replied Icea.
'You're to be sorted with the First Years, girl.'
Icea sat on the rickety stool with the ragged hat on her head. She sat amid snickers of students her age, laughing at the image of a grown fifteen-year old girl sitting on the stool like a snotty eleven-year old. Not that it made any difference, really.
The hat started whispering…
So you're Voldemort's daughter, are you? Would you like me to yell it to the whole school?
'No,' thought Icea silently, 'Please, no…'
Of course… would you like to be in Slytherin? The best place, if you ask me… but I see courage and kindness in your heart… maybe Gryffindor?
Before Icea had time to say something, the hat had yelled, 'GRYFFINDOR!' to the whole hall. Echoes ran through the walls.
Icea ran to Harry, Ron and Hermione. As she ate the delicious feast, Icea thought that now, finally, she was truly happy.