Chapter 4: Sorting Hell
Ron felt his stomach turn as he rubbed his sweaty hands down the side of his robe. He sighed as he examined its black material, frowning at the absence of his chudley cannons badges,There comforting orange writing missing from his sights, he'd have to fix that. Ron moaned like a wounded animal as the great hall appeared before them. He felt his hands shake with that familiar nervousness at the thought of meeting once more with that accursed hat.
Harry trembled. Where would the hat put him? Not Slytherin, it couldn't put him in Slytherin. But what if it did? Harry shook his head braking away from his thoughts. He peered around examining his friends faces. Hermione's eyes were glazed over, as if trying to digest alot of information in a small space of time. Time, that was what had gotten him in this mess, It was time that had ruined his life this time. what next? His life such a maze it was impossible to know when the next surprise was round the corner.
Draco fixed one of his famous hot glares on the door of the great hall. Heatedly fishing through all of this new information clouding his brain. Yet he felt comforted by the inevitable event of returning to his Slytherin common room, his sanctuary away from icy persona many thought was Draco Malfoy. Draco wasn't in the least surprised he had been chosen to be ice, It was pretty obvious to him. But the thing that troubled him was how he had left himself unguarded, how he had let down his walls surrounding himself, and actually displayed his emotions. His precious emotions, the very thing he had attempted to hide from his own father throughout his cold seemingly emotionless life. He had always envied Potter, for the simple fact that people cared enough about him, Enough to shield him from the inevitable war looming onwards, shadowing what was once a great flourishing empire of magic, that was now a torn kingdom, broken apart by silly, pureblooded beliefs.
Hermione leaned lazily upon the heavy stone walls of the small yet spacious anti-chamber. Trying hopelessly to keep her groggy Eyelids from sliding shut. She felt her body tense up as the great hall became unusually quiet, obviously waiting for Dumbledore to start his speech. She groaned lightly at the idea of over a thousand pairs of eyes staring at her and the others.
"Now, I realise that you are all growing teens and need your food like I need my sherbet lemons" McGonagall snorted loudly into her soup bowl.
"But I am afraid that I must ask you to wait patiently for a few moments as we sort some late arrivals"
At this the hall erupted into whispers, Hogwarts had never once hosted transfer students.
"They are transfer students from The Demonstric Valley Academy for Advanced Magic and will be in there sixth year here. There was unfortunately a very severe Death Eater attack and many students lost there lives in the battle. The four only survived due to there advanced skills and knowledge. I would advise you to not question them. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of one of there curses"
Dumbledore's Eyes twinkled mischievously, Knowing just how dangerous these new students probably could be.
"So may I introduce, Hermione Graypoint, Draco Millens, Harry Polenor and Ronald Weston."
Dumbledore watched as the four new students walked casually down the middle of the hall. Obviously unfaised by the number of eyes studying there movements. It was easy to tell the four had grown used to being stared at and didn't bother to care any more.
The four were perhaps the greatest mystery Dumbledore had ever tried to solve. All four young people were so alike, yet so different. All held the same Haunted look in there eyes,A look only a heavy burden such as war could give. All of them held the same expressionless face, As if they held no emotion whatsoever. Yet there personalities still seemed to shine through there heavy guards. But what intrigued him the most was the solid Occlumency and protective shields they surrounded themselves with, The future couldn't be so horrible that people as young as seventeen was forced to fight? And in there situation kill?
"Hermione Graypoint" Minerva Called out shattering his disturbing thoughts. The bushy haired girl stepped forward, Not in the least surprised by the old hat.
Hermione stepped forward Lazily placing the hat on her head. Ignoring the looks coming from the four tables.
Ah, how unusual a time traveller, I see you were a Gryffindor before, Well you are pretty bookish, But your bravery outshines it, Lets see. Better be-GRYFFINDOR!
Hermione shifted of the stool and walked to the all to familiar table, Taking a seat at the end anxious to get a good view of the sorting.
"Draco Millens" McGonagall called out in what Draco thought to be a good impression of Squawking bird. Draco sighed and sat boredly on the stool, Waiting to get it over with.
Hmm, I see, anotherone out of there time, You have alot of Slytherin Qualities. But also quite a fair amount of Gryffindor in you also.
Draco bit down hard on his lip. Praying to god the hat would choose Slytherin.
Lets see, no doubt about it I'm putting you in-GRYFFINDOR!
Draco's eyes widened in shock as he fell off the stool. He stared frozen at the hat,unaware of the laughter filling the Hall. Him in Gryffindor that hat must have gone barmy.
"Mr Millens, I would advise you to peel yourself off the floor and go sit at your table" McGonagall said, a smile twitching on her lips. Draco mentally shook himself before scrambling into the seat beside Hermione. He looked towards her, a smile spread across his lips as he saw the shocked expression she wore.
"How the Bugger did you get in Gryffindor!"Hermione whispered. Her Wide eyes darting back and forth. Malfoy frowned, anger evident on his pale features.
"How the hell do I know" He shot back. As he began to stab his plate with a fork. This sure was going to be an interesting year.
A soft wind blew past the library window, Stirring the crisp autumn leaves. The old man sighed and shook his head, as if annoyed by his thoughts.
"You Shouldn't worry Damien, its bad for your health" The young Professor Triblen told the aggravated headmaster.
"I know Terrence, I know. Its just frustrating knowing that I cant help them"
"I know, but at least you've got the book, at least your helping them in your own way" Terrence cast a glance across the room. A thick book lay open on a silver pedastel, a Phoenix feather quill currying across the yellowing pages.
Damien walked forward to the pedastel, gently holding a fragile page within his finger and thumb. A smile crawled onto his thin lips.
"Its amazing isn't it, There entire lives's, there every thought, recorded on these very pages. It wont be long before Voldemort seeks it out" A grim smile replaced his once happy one.
"We must prepare them" Terrence replied, in a calm statement. Yet the desperation still evident in his voice.
"All in due time"Damien answered gently letting his fingers brush the flames of the roaring fire.
"I dare say an old Elf like me has a few tricks up his sleeve"