Thanks to all readers and expecially to reviewers!
Chapter 3
Sorted
Life revolved around the library.
Every morning, Joad slipped from her room under the watchful eyes of Angela and went for a morning run around the grounds to the light of the rising sun. Every now and then, she spotted the old man Dumbledore standing out on the lawn, looking over the lake as the sun rose. He was troubled, and with good reason, but he was letting his troubled state show to all that cared to look. Emotions were weakness.
After her morning exercise it was breakfast, something Joad went to early and left the same way. She came to not enjoy the times when she was unable to slip away unnoticed and forced to sit out the entire thing, with Dumbledore talking to her as if trying to pry out her secrets. Sometimes, when he looked at her with the twinkle in his eyes the way he did, Joad got the horrible feeling that the old man already knew where she was from, what she was, both clone and bounty hunter.
After breakfast, she went to the library. Usually she would stay in the library until dinner; lunch was something she had not had the luxury of on Kamino, and the mere morning runs were not enough to keep her physically fit. She made up for the missed lunch by eating a large breakfast.
Then after dinner it was out to the grounds again. The second night of her stay, she had snuck out to the forest, stalking among the trees in her robes, trying to get closer to some of the unseen forest life. She had read of the forest in the book and knew of what horrors it held, so without armor and weaponry she didn't go far. The next night she donned her armor, ignored Angela's protests and scaled the wall three stories to the ground from her window. It would have been easier to just walk out, but someone might see her, and explaining her armor would be difficult. Besides, scaling wasn't so hard, and the stones were easy to grip. Stalking in the forest was fun as well. Each night, she went deeper and deeper into the foreboding blackness of the unforgiving trees and saw many things she had never seen the likes of in her space travels. More than once she had to fly to safety above the tree tops to avoid dying in a gristly manner in the hands of centaurs or paws of unintelligent beings. She tried her jetpack once on the grounds of Hogwarts and nothing happened and she ventured to try her blasters there too. Apparently nothing of her weaponry worked on the grounds, which was just a little unnerving.
The night's escapade always ended with a scolding from Angela. Joad remembered the first time she scaled to wall to the window, hoping Angela would be asleep; she should have known better.
"Three stories to the ground!" Angela had screamed at her the moment her head popped over the window seal. She continued to yell are Joad climbed into the room. "Me not knowing if you had fallen to your death! Where have you been, Joad Teff? The nerve of you slipping away like that without even a word to me! You young- young- you- arg!"
Joad slipped off her helmet and smiled wryly up at the flustered picture. "I see words fail you."
"You young ruffian! You should be happy I didn't report you to Dumbledore!" Joad's smile dropped from her face like a body sinking in a river with stones on its feet. "It's unnerving enough that you wake up so darned early, but now you jump out of windows with your whole getup. Don't look at me with that nasty helmet on, Joad Teff. And don't even try to tell me that that's New Zealand uniform."
"Don't worry, I wasn't." Joad looked at the room. All the chairs were gone and the window seat that Joad had slept on the past few nights had vanished as well, the window now flat against the wall.
"That's right," said Angela triumphantly, "you must now sleep on the bed. I have more power than simply talking you know. Tomorrow night, I'm locking the window. You'll behave like a proper young lady."
Joad had not the slightest idea how a 'proper young lady' should act, but she knew what to do. She fixed Angela with her most icy stare, than moved her head to looked pointedly at the blazing fireplace.
"You. Would. Not. Dare." Hissed Angela fiercely, separating each word.
"Care to make a wager on that?" Joad carefully made her voice monotone.
The room suddenly darkened as the fire spiraled slowly away, as if a tiny black hole was sucking it out from the middle of the hearth. The burned brightly for a second as a tiny pinpoint of light floating in the air, then with a low 'poof' it was gone.
"Yes," Angela replied icily. "Now, go to bed like a good girl."
Joad didn't take off her armor and sat down on the rug in front of the still warm fireplace, setting her helmet aside to stare up at Angela. As she prepared to lie down and sleep, the bed legs scrapped across the floor toward her.
Joad leapt to her feet only in time to dodge a blanket snapping out towards her foot. Pillows bombarded her head, keeping her from seeing. She felt a sheet wind around her leg and tug; falling to one knee, Joad grabbed the pillows while twisting around to loose herself from the vice-like grip of the bedspread. A blanket flew toward her, perhaps to wind around her arm and pull her to impending doom, er, bed, but she blocked it with the pillows. She jumped into the air, twisting her torso and leg, and then laded with the free foot on the withering sheet. Her leg was a little less captive of the sheet, so she repeated, blocking various attacks from the bedspread with the pillows turned shields.
Free from the sheet finally, the bed seemed to launch at full out attack. Even the draperies reached out and caught whatever they could. A blanket wrapped around her torso, sheets wound up her legs and tugged. Joad fell to the floor hard, twisted over on her stomach, grasping for anything she could get a hold of. She had to settle for scraping at the floor as she was dragged toward sleeping like a 'proper young lady.'
"Nooooooo!" Joad found herself wailing as she neared the bed, clawing at the floor for a nonexistent hold.
The drapes wound around her arms up to her armpits and pulled her to her feet, then up into the air. The blankets and sheets that had attached themselves to her unwound instantly and started rearranging on the bed. Meanwhile the drapes flipped Joad up into the air, and she ripped through the top of the bed, falling fully armored minus the helmet on to perfectly smooth sheets and strategically placed pillows. The moment she landed to a cloud of feathers (one of the pillows got ripped in the fight), the blankets raced up her body to her chin, then tucked themselves in tightly under the mattress, rendering Joad helpless and unable to move.
I got in a fight with my bed and lost, Joad thought blankly to herself as the bed scrapped across the floor so Joad found herself looking up at a sweetly smiling Angela.
"There, isn't that better?"
Once she got over being forced into bed, Joad found Angela interesting to talk to and soon found herself telling much of what happened to her.
"So you're from the sky? You fly around in the stars? They're so small...can you hold them in you're hand?"
So it had taken awhile, but Joad finally got a little of her life into the mind of Angela.
Previous life, she reminded herself. She was unsure if she would ever get back to her galaxy, her father, her profession. She had left the bounty hunter part out of the story, as well as the clone bit. She imagined that those would be a little too hard to Angela to swallow, especially all in one day.
Finally September 1st arrived. Like any other day, Joad went running in the morning, but was unable to slip out at breakfast. All of the teachers had been arriving the past few days, and the one table was full. Most were talking with each other, politely interested in the other's summer. An older woman with a tight bun and a wide-brim pointed hat was having a quiet, urgent conversation with Dumbledore and Snape. She saw Hagrid, the one who found her at the edge of the grounds, talking with an alarmingly short man whose squeaky high pitched voice could be heard from the other side of the table, though no words could be distinguished.
Around her the exchange students chatted amongst themselves; Xiu from China and Iona from Greece were trying to teach each other their languages, to much giggling and snickering. Joad imagined that what they were teaching each other was not so innocent. Nick and Makalo were talking like old buddies, discussing Quidditch and the latest racing brooms. Victor sulked on the outskirts of their conversation, occasionally pointing something out and coming up with a name of a player they had forgotten.
Joad had finished her breakfast, ate quickly and completely, and was now observing teachers more closely. She deduced that they all were teachers of previous years except one. She sat at the end of the table, posture erect and perfect, wearing what appeared to be a dress instead of the robes the others were wearing. She had hair so blonde it looked silver, with a thin neck and delicate fingers. She picked at her egg, talking to no one, her eyes downcast so Joad couldn't see their color. Snape keep shooting her looks of loathing.
On the outside, she appeared a delicate outsider, unsure of herself in this world of more experience teachers that she hardly knew, but when Joad looked at her, her gut tightened. It wasn't so much a warning of impending doom, as her gut so kindly warned her of when it approached, but more of a cautious warning. And, as her father always told her to, she trusted her gut. Only once had she not trusted her gut, and that had not turned out so well. That had been when she got that book.
After ages, breakfast ended, and Joad slipped away. After that, the day went by quickly. She spent it in her room, studying and asking Angela questions.
"This is the last time you'll be under my care," Angela said abruptly, her voice sad.
"What?" Joad looked up from her studying. She didn't mind loosing Angela, but loosing Angela meant loosing this room, moving to a different room.
"You'll be sorted tonight, of course. To your temporary house until you return to New Zealand, that's where you will sleep, study, do homework, and hang out with your new friends.
Joad said nothing and went back to her books.
"You're a cold girl, you know that?" She sounded angry.
"Yes."
"Nothing good comes from being detached." She was huffy now.
"What would you know? I've already told you my secrets."
"I don't believe them. You think I would be stupid enough to believe you were from the stars? I'm not gullible."
Joad looked up at Angela, her mind calculating. "You're right. How could I think that. I am Joad Teff from New Zealand, not from the stars." I am Joad Fett, daughter of Boba Fett, most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy. I will carry on his legacy...once I get off this rock.
"Lying is a bad thing. You must get out of the habit."
"I agree, lying is wrong." We agree on one thing.
"There's a good girl. You're just nervous about tonight."
A Fett is never nervous. Joad returned to her book.
Loosing Angela would not at all be a bad thing.
"Blimey!" Ron crashed down into his seat at the Gryffindor table in the great hall. "I'm starving! I could eat a whole dragon."
"I imagine so," snapped Hermione, sitting down across from him. "All you ate on the train was chocolate frogs. Honestly Ron, how unhealthy."
Ron looked like he was going to argue but didn't. "Anyway, I hope the sorting is fast."
"You always hope that."
"Well, I do!"
Harry joined his friends, sitting next to Ron, but did not comment on their bickering. Instead he scanned the teacher table. He eyes fell upon the you lady, knowing she must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She looked wispy, frail, unlikely that she would last even half the year, and a relation of the Malfoys.
"Whoa," said Neville, who sat down next to them. "Is she Malfoy's mom?"
Hermione turned and looked at the teachers' table.
"No, maybe a relative."
"Oh no, I hope not."
Harry remained silent. He looked down at his plate, unable to look at Snape or McGonagall, or even Dumbledore.
"Harry," Hermione whispered sympathetically. He thought she was going to say more but was glad when she didn't.
Sirius was dead. There was nothing anyone could do about it. And it was all his fault. All his and no one else's. His alone.
The sorting began, a much large group than last years. Hermione wondered out loud if it had anything to do with the public announcement of Voldemort's return. Harry didn't move throughout all the applause and cheering. Glancing across the hall, Harry felt a savage glee that Malfoy was not cheering either. He was sitting a little ways away from his peers, glowering darkly at his plate. Serves the slimy bastard right, he thought. His father deserved Askaban if anyone did. Hopefully he was getting the kiss right now.
After the serving, Dumbledore rose for his announcement of dinner, probably a few short words. Ron held his fork and knife at the ready, starring forcefully at the table, as if he could already see the food there or bring it before him by will alone while Hermione sighed, at a loss.
"I hope the hungry stomachs can wait just a few more minutes. We have yet one more surprise for you." Professor McGonagall had not yet moved from her position in front of the Headmaster, still holding the sorting hat and pulling another roll of parchment from a pocket.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron groaned and flopped forward onto his plate.
Through the door behind the staff table, the exchange students could hear Dumbledore's speech, though it sounded only like mumbles to them. There was no sign of the laughter and easy talk from breakfast; everyone appeared a little nervous. Everyone except Joad. She stood impassively in to corner, face in shadow, reviewing all the escape routes in the great hall. If something happened, she wanted to be prepared; she had seen people get trampled to death in stampedes of panicked people and she doubted that the people in the hall consisted of students didn't matter much in terms of stampede.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the room, magically amplified:
"Xiu Chang, from China."
Xiu was pale as she walked stiffly to the door, through which, when open, they could hear the curious murmurings of the students. Joad wondered how many of them had seen an oriental person.
A few moments of tense waiting then:
"HUFFLEPUFF!" A roar of applause and cheering.
Similarly went Makalo of Africa to Ravenclaw and Iona of Greece to Hufflepuff. Nick Sythe of America went to Gryffindor and the cheering seemed louder than any before.
"Teff, Joad, from New Zealand," rang McGonagall's voice.
Joad opened the door and strode across the floor to the hat. She made her face blank and hard, her eyes sweeping the students as the whispered to their neighbors. Her muscles were tense and she moved as if she was stalking her prey. She made sure she appeared calm and unafraid.
Fool, she silently chastised herself. You didn't have to stay here. You could have left and avoided this mess. And why is your stomach squirmy? Are you scared? No. Preposturous. Scared of a crowd of students poorly trained for combat? Get a hold of yourself Joad!
She put the hat on her head and was unsurprised when it spoke to her.
"Well, you are the odd one, aren't you? It's not many who come to me and can block me so well from their mind."
Joad didn't reply.
"Well, to sort you properly, I have to see what you've got in there."
She grimaced, but her wall wavered and the hat entered her mind.
"Ahhh..." he said, as if something once in the dark had just come to light and he finally understood. "You are a...a copy? You are odd."
Sort me, don't look at my past.
"You are afraid of hardly anything, I see. You are confident of yourself. You are smart and cunning. If there is one house you don't fit into it is Hufflepuff."
I knew that already.
"But what is this I see? Determination. A stop at nothing attitude toward your goal. And a brutal past."
I was happy.
"Happy bathed in blood? Well," he sighed, as if sad. "I guess that makes you..."
"SLYTHERIN!"
