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Demonphonix: Thank you for your review. Why is she mean? Hmm...Well, you'll just have to read and find out.
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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. That is J.K. Rowling's privilege ::runs away, crying::
The All American Rebel
Chapter Dos: The Sorting of a Different Sort
As Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked toward the seemingly horse-less carriages they heard an excited laugh.
"Oh my goodness! I so didn't know Hogwarts had Thestrals! How awesome!" a voice that they recognized vaguely as Hilary's sounded throughout the cold air. The trio momentarily stopped, as did many others, to ponder her reaction.
"She's happy?!" Ron said incredulously, looking between Harry and Hermione, as if they knew the reason behind her reaction. "Why the bloody hell would somebody be happy to see death?!" His friends shook their heads, at a loss for words. They continued their walk to the carriage, while Harry thought, Why? Maybe someone she didn't like died...Maybe she killed someone! He then realized what he had almost accused her of. Get a grip on yourself, Potter. She may just be weird. I doubt it, but still... He dazedly bumped into the kid ahead of him, who, after discreetly glancing at his forehead, gave him a dirty look. Harry caught sight of a silvery serpent on his robes. Slytherin...he thought disgustedly, walking away hurriedly to find Ron and Hermione.
Harry watched the first years interestedly as they filed into the great hall, most of them staring dazedly between the swirling grey clouds that made up the ceiling and the many students filling the table. He noticed Hilary near the back, waving to him widely. He waved back, face burning from embarrassment. She turned from him and, resting her arm on a first year's head (who scowled at her while she smiled widely), looked on in obvious boredom as McGonagall put a raggedy old hat on a small stool. The hall quieted down as a stitching near the brim opened, rather like a mouth, and began to sing.
Welcome students, small and tall,
Welcome to Hogwarts this fall,
The hat continued its song, but Harry did not listen to it, staring instead at Hilary's shocked face. Hadn't she ever heard a hat sing before? The singing died down, and –finally, as Ron reminded them- the sorting began.
"Ambrosia, Amber." McGonagall's voice rang through the hall, although she was interrupted by Hilary's short laugh. The American's face colored slightly as a shy, blonde first year gave her a dirty look, before being sorted into Ravenclaw. Harry smiled encouragingly in Hilary's direction; she shrugged, as if to say, 'what can you do?' and pulled out a pair of headphones from within her robe, all while still resting her elbow on the displeased first year.
After what seemed like an eternity to Harry's hungry mind, the first years completed their sorting, leaving only Hilary, smiling nonchalantly as she leaned against the wall, playing with her streaked hair, headphones around her slender neck. McGonagall picked up her paper once more and scanned it.
"Aparcar, Hilary" McGonagall yelled, obviously mispronouncing "Aparcar" as Hilary walked up to the raggedy hat, rolling her eyes to Harry. She sat down on the stool, winking at any guy she happened to think was cute, including both Harry and Ron (To Hermione's scowl). McGonagall whispered something into her pierced ear and the girl nodded, taking the hat from old, wrinkled hands and donned it in a stylish fashion, faded black contrasting against bright red bangs. She jumped a little, hearing a voice in her head.
Well, well, well, Ms. Aparcar. So we finally meet... Hilary gulped, but tried her hardest to appear unruffled. Well, you certainly have an interesting past, to say the least. At this, Hilary became intensely curious, although she covered it with anger.
What do you know!? Don't pry into my mind! The hat gave something which sounded vaguely like a laugh.
You don't know anything, do you? Well, I guess that makes sense...
Just shut up and sort me!
Very well, very well...The hat sighed, as if disappointed that he could not interrogate her further. Well, you seem to want to help others, and you are loyal...Extremely bright, yes, you certainly have potential, yes, lots of it...Hufflepuff, perhaps? Hilary, having calmed down, flared up once more. "Huff-" The hat began to yell, but was interrupted.
"Hell no, bitch!" Hilary yelled loudly, her voice ricocheting off of the stone walls; she was not pleased at all with the idea of Hufflepuff.
The hat quickly changed its decision, saying "Slytherin!" instead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at Malfoy in unison, smirking as Hilary took a seat next to the vexed prefect.
The students laughed at the quick change, as the teachers looked on disapprovingly, all except one, seated next to Snape. He had long brown hair pulled into a ponytail like Bill's and wore a plain black robe. His blue eyes, identical to Hilary's, contrasted against his tan skin. From one of his ears, there hung an earring, shining in the bright hall, but Harry could not tell what it was. The mysterious man looked at the temperamental American, who was currently making fun of Malfoy, to the laughter of her house table. His look could almost be called one of pride, although Harry wasn't quite sure why.
Harry pointed him out to Ron, who gasped. "Harry...." he breathed, eyes shining. "That's Franqueza Desafio!" Harry gave his friend a confused look. However, it was Hermione who answered his unspoken question.
"He's an American wizard of Spanish descent, and, from what I've read, he's got a fair bit of talent." Ron stared at her, slack-jawed.
"'Fair bit of talent'?! Hermione, they say he rivals Dumbledore himself!" Ron looked at the man in awe, watching as he talked casually to Snape, who was, for once, not scowling. In fact, he looked as if he were laughing, as unlikely as that was. Harry rubbed his eyes hard, so as to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. He wasn't; there Snape was, laughing and shaking the man's hand in a friendly manner. Ron turned to Harry, just as bewildered as the black-haired boy. A sudden question arose in Harry's mind.
"What does he have to do with Hilary, though?" In response to their slightly confused looks, he added, "He seemed to know her." The two shrugged and Harry let the subject drop, instead focusing on the newly arrived feast, which, he noticed, Hermione wrinkled her nose at, as if displeased.
