Ch. 6: Sorting
Hermione awoke sufficiently calmer than she had fallen asleep. More importantly, someone was there- good grief, she was in his lap- still stroking her hair, calming her.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?" Harry looked down, a deep concern showing in his eyes.
And something else.
There were a hundred things to say in that moment, a hundred paths and possibilities she could take. How could she possibly have been this stupid? All these years, and right under her own nose too…what a cliché, she realized. My best friend is in love with me, and I've been thick enough not to notice it.
Say something, something good, a voice urged. Anything.
"Uhm- have we stopped?"
Stupid git.
OhmyGodohmyGoddoyoujustfuckingrealizehespeaksfuckingShakespeareanddudewouldyoulookatthosefuckingabsyoucan'tevenstopcussingaboutthem
Damn.
Gwen's thoughts were going faster than her mind; (what a contradiction, a dry voice drawled) . But it was true. Everything.
"Miss Wood?"
"Hermione!" Ron ran to catch up with Hermione, who was snuggled carefully in Harry's arms. "Herm, I'm-"
Instantly Hermione whirled around, catching Ron in something almost comparable to Hagrid's hugs.
"-Sorry?" he wheezed as soon as he caught his breath.
"No-mmfm-Ron-hmm-I'm-mff-sorry-mff-mffmmm-I was-mffm-such a-mffm-bitch. How can I-hmmf-make it up t-mffm-you?" She spoke in staccato, kissing Ron's cheeks in between nearly every other word.
"Damn, Harry, I'm going to have to read your book," Ron said, snaking an arm protectively around Herm's waist. This was right, he realized, this role. Friend and champion, not enemy. Brother, not…
Not romantic interest.
But hey- the thought came on its own- that can be someone else's job. A certain someone.
"I heard we have a new student this year," Harry coughed, eyeing Ron's arm with something that mirrored contempt. "Sixth year, like us. Wonder what house she'll be in—maybe we should hurry to the, uhm, Grand Hall, we don't want to miss it and the first years have already been sorted-"
"Are you jealous?" Hermione asked, reading Harry's face as easily as Ron had. "Come here, Harry. There's room for ten of you." Blushing, Harry copied Ron's movement.
Shit! Ron thought, seeing the raw emotion in his face. Shitshitshit!
Harry was in love with Hermione.
"Miss Wood?"
Gwen's head turned nearly full circle. The Headmaster- what was his name? Dummeldore? - was motioning her to the stool.
A sudden queasiness found itself in her stomach. Why the nervousness? She thought. It's just a hat. Not a custom you're overly familiar with, but still…
"-Miss Gwenaëlle Wood joins us from Beauxbatons. Yes," he motioned for quiet as quiet murmurs spread across the tables. "She is a relation of a certain recently-graduated Quidditch captain, although I am certain that soon you will all know her for herself and not him. I should hope that whatever house she is Sorted into will welcome her with open arms."
And if it's Ron's, I hope a great deal more than that.
Gwen's eyes opened wide. Where had that come from?
Maybe it's the abs, the voice continued. Or the hair, or the laugh or the smile or-
SHUT UP!
To her surprise, the voice complied.
"Miss Wood, if you would be so kind…"
The hat slid right over her ears, encasing the entire world in darkness and silence. It wasn't either soft or hard but-
The word is pliant.
The voice was so much like His that she nearly started. Visibly, her pulse increased. Please, don't let me black out here, don't let Him come-
I'm not Him, whoever He is, although I could be if you wanted it that way. Though I doubt it would help…It paused, waiting for a reply. You're a hard one, I'll give you that. Not Hufflepuff, that'd never do. Ravenclaw? You have the brains, but…no, it doesn't work…
Ron's house?
Ron's house? Oh, the Weasley boy. He's in Gryffindor. I could see you there, yes, but…let's see your blood.
It stopped cold; Gwen could nearly envision it doing a double take.
Gods, that blood…
"SLYTH-"
The cheer from the right table stopped short, dying as soon as it had begun. All around, however, the whispers had started again. The Hat had never, ever stopped midsentence. A look of wry amusement played across Albus Dumbledore's face. Why, wasn't this an interesting turn of events. A little alarming that he hadn't seen it coming before, of course, but interesting all the same.
"Gryffindor,"
The Hat shuddered and fell to the floor.