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Harry was gob smacked. After he had got over the disappointment at finding there was no child who looked remotely similar to him his gaze fell upon a dark haired girl. She did seem to have strangely familiar bone structure and dark messy hair. The answer to why came as her name was called out to be sorted and it was not even one of the possible reasons Harry expected. She was a Dursley! A Dursley at Hogwarts! He watched her as she sat chatting to a boy who resembled his old friend Justin.
Harry's pity went out to the young girl, the rejection she must have felt when sent her letter. He wondered if they'd moved her into a cupboard. The last time he'd encountered his darling cousin Dudley had been thirteen years ago when he left for his seventh and final year at Hogwarts (as a student anyway). He hadn't even returned after the year had finished to collect things from his room. Sadly all of his possessions could fit into a trunk. Harry was disappointed to realise that although he had shown politeness in inviting his 'family' to his wedding two years later, they had not shown him the same courtesy. He wondered who the lucky bride of the 'pig in the wig' was, for the young child was remarkably pretty, something unexpected when you knew the appearance of her father.
Harry's curiosity in the girl grew when she was, after long debate sorted into Hufflepuff. If she was anything like Dudley she'd belong with the serpents. The slytherins. He was extremely happy to see his cousin's daughter had not ended up in that house, particularly when the certain son of a certain arrogant blonde was in her year. Yet he, like so many others had noticed the hat's reluctance to put the boy in the house of his ancestors. Perhaps this Malfoy was from a new mould? Some things do change, Hell, there were Weasleys who weren't in Gryffindor. But then he glanced down the staff table. There sat Hermione, with a book on her knee, and Remus looking awfully pale as the moon drew near. As he was looking the black haired potions master caught his glance and glared piercingly at him.
'Some things change,' he thought, 'but some things never do'.
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Harry was gob smacked. After he had got over the disappointment at finding there was no child who looked remotely similar to him his gaze fell upon a dark haired girl. She did seem to have strangely familiar bone structure and dark messy hair. The answer to why came as her name was called out to be sorted and it was not even one of the possible reasons Harry expected. She was a Dursley! A Dursley at Hogwarts! He watched her as she sat chatting to a boy who resembled his old friend Justin.
Harry's pity went out to the young girl, the rejection she must have felt when sent her letter. He wondered if they'd moved her into a cupboard. The last time he'd encountered his darling cousin Dudley had been thirteen years ago when he left for his seventh and final year at Hogwarts (as a student anyway). He hadn't even returned after the year had finished to collect things from his room. Sadly all of his possessions could fit into a trunk. Harry was disappointed to realise that although he had shown politeness in inviting his 'family' to his wedding two years later, they had not shown him the same courtesy. He wondered who the lucky bride of the 'pig in the wig' was, for the young child was remarkably pretty, something unexpected when you knew the appearance of her father.
Harry's curiosity in the girl grew when she was, after long debate sorted into Hufflepuff. If she was anything like Dudley she'd belong with the serpents. The slytherins. He was extremely happy to see his cousin's daughter had not ended up in that house, particularly when the certain son of a certain arrogant blonde was in her year. Yet he, like so many others had noticed the hat's reluctance to put the boy in the house of his ancestors. Perhaps this Malfoy was from a new mould? Some things do change, Hell, there were Weasleys who weren't in Gryffindor. But then he glanced down the staff table. There sat Hermione, with a book on her knee, and Remus looking awfully pale as the moon drew near. As he was looking the black haired potions master caught his glance and glared piercingly at him.
'Some things change,' he thought, 'but some things never do'.
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