CHAPTER 4 - THE SORTING

The Great Hall was huge - larger than the hall at the Castle, the common name for Malfoy Manor. The hall at the Castle would not be caught dead with an enchanted ceiling - really, it was so ostentatious, it was laughable - but then, the hall at the Castle was not normally seen by anyone other than the highest echelons of the High Clan.

Hogwarts, on the other hand, was home to the most curious mixture of people - high clan, upper and middle and lower class purebloods, half-bloods and even worse, muggleborns.

Children of the highest High Clan, Lucius and Luc watched with eyes coloured by prejudice, somewhat tempered by their father's odd policy of tolerance - he believed that even muggleborns had their place, just that they should not exceed it. Certainly, there was no need to go around wiping them out...just as long as they never mixed their non-magical blood with the pureblood of a Clan.

It was simple science - muggleborns had ancestors who had no magic. Therefore, if they intermarried with purebloods, they introduced the non- magical gene into the blood, and suddenly there was a chance of producing a squib.

And that would be unacceptable.

Nevertheless, there was a certain detached fascination about those people who had been born into a world with no magic. They thought so differently, saw the world with such a skewed viewpoint. Luc wondered, absently, what it would be like to not be able to do magic. And then he slammed the door shut on that particular thought - it was far too horrible to even think about.

Life without magic? It would be like life without sight, or sound, or touch - without such a necessary part of his soul, he would probably wither away...it was unthinkable.

He turned to his companions to see their reaction to the hall's ceiling, currently reflecting a clear night sky and full moon. Lucius, typically, was completely impassive. He might have been staring out the window of the train at absolutely nothing. Snape was looking around disdainfully, his almost sneer the very mirror of his father's - standing together, Lucius and Snape could have been mirror images of their fathers; he wasn't sure Snape would appreciate the comparison.

Lupin was staring in unabashed interest - Luc watched him closely for a moment. He was not High Clan, not even upper middle class, but something in his bearing, in his eyes, showed that he shared some of the High Clan mindset - no, not the prejudices, not the social thinking, but the deeper instincts and truths. Only the strong, the powerful, the cunning survived in this world, and the weak, innocent and pure survived only if they had powerful protection.

His eyes were much older than an eleven year old boy's should be, and filled with intelligence and knowledge - just as Lucius', as Luc's, as all the other children's in their group were. And Luc approved of that. Lupin was intelligent, well versed in the Dark Arts and, most important of all, he was a realist.

He would do well in Slytherin - but Luc, watching his eyes wander over to two boys clowning around and laughing, felt that perhaps he was not so accepting of the harsh truths of life as he should be. Exchanging a glance with Rayden and Brandon, both shrewd judges of character, he raised an eyebrow and indicated Lupin, specifically the direction his eyes were taking.

Brandon's heavy-lidded, languid grey eyes and Rayden's sharp, green eyes focused on the other two clowns - James Potter and Sirius Black, upper middle class, new money, fathers influential in the Ministry - and then slid back to the unconscious longing on Lupin's face. They came back to Luc, and Brandon shook his head.

Lucius, catching this, sighed softly. "Gryffindor," he murmured in his brother's ear. "Damn. He had such potential..."

Snape snorted softly, but didn't deny the assessment. His insolent black eyes looked over the crowd to where Black and Potter were waving at Lupin, and he sneered (really, he did it so well). Black, the more outrageous of the two, a half-blood whose mother had run off with an Irish muggle conman, scowled back at him and made a rude gesture. Then he grinned brilliantly, displaying all the charm of his Irish father, when Lupin snorted with laughter.

Dirk Courtney, insolent and mocking, and Shan Andahni, with his infectious laugh and grin, looked at Snape and wondered if it was safe to say anything. He looked murderous - his father and Black's maternal grandfather had crossed swords more than once, Snape senior coming out second best. Obviously deciding it was best to be discreet, Dirk suppressed a comment about love filled glances and crowded rooms. But Shan, who had had the same thought, could see it in his face and stifled a most dangerous chuckle.

House Snape was not the most popular of Clans, and not just because of their cutting sarcasm and insolence. However, they were quite powerful wizards, magically if not politically, and it was best not to offend them face to face. Especially if they had Malfoy patronage, as was indicated by the uneasy way the three of them stood - as if they had been told to form a group and learn to work together.

Speaking of groups, it seemed that this Lupin would not become part of theirs, after all...Shan was a little regretful. He had almost decided to like the odd, quiet boy - now he wouldn't get the chance to see if it could have worked out. Not as driven by ambition and the Game as his cousin Rayden, Shan could make friends without first knowing whether they could be of use...

Ah well.

He would be sorted into Slytherin, because the Andahni had been Slytherins since the Founding, and he would spend the next seven years alongside the rest of his High Clan companions.

Worse things could happen.

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The Sorting had begun - the mass of black robed first years, anxiously huddled at the foot of the dais, would be tested and sorted into the Houses; and the House they entered would probably decide the rest of their future.

Luc had no worries about his future. He knew exactly what he wanted, and had a general idea of how to achieve it...and, looking across the room at another first year, much as Snape had watched Black, he stared at a golden haired, blue eyed boy who seemed to stand in a perpetual spotlight, surrounded by adulation. Unlike Black, he was High Clan, and his charisma was all the stronger for it - those blue eyes came up to meet his, and they audibly clicked.

Recognition.

Instant hatred.

Both mouths, eerily familiar, curved into a very mirthless smile, a smile that promised no good and instant enmity.

Lucius, following his gaze, saw the familiarity between their features - black haired, grey eyed Luc could have been this blonde, blue eyed boy's brother...he did nothing more than raise an eyebrow fractionally. Snape looked at him, eyes mocking.

"That is the de Sauvigny heir?" he asked silkily, amusedly. "The legitimate brother?"

Lucius looked at him, but the black eyes remained fixed, laughing, on his. "Yes, that's Caine."

"Hmmm," murmured Snape, intrigued. The more he looked at Caine, Luc's half brother on his mother's side, the legitimate heir to House de Sauvigny because his parent's had been married, the more he disliked him. He glowed, and he knew it - basking in his own limelight, in the knowledge that he was rich, he was handsome, he was intelligent, and he would one day be very powerful...and that he would be a Gryffindor, one of Society's golden children.

Although the only difference between him and Lucius was that Caine's parents had both been Gryffindors, Snape actually liked Lucius better...and right now, that was saying a lot. Lucius at least did not expect adulation as his due. He didn't expect the world to fall into his lap, and he was...he was aware of his responsibilities, of his place in the world. It was an instinctive feeling, really - one of the indefinable things that was essentially High Clan Slytherin, and could never be explained fully to anyone not of the blood, of the circle. Lucius was everything a Malfoy should be, and Caine was a very pale imitation, mocking the original with his very existence.

Looking at the three half brothers, Lucius and Lucien and Caine (oh, yes, they all knew the de Sauvigny heir and his story) Brandon realized that Luc resembled both his half brothers - oddly, his features mirrored Lucius' and his profile mirrored Caine's...or perhaps it was his stance, his attitude, his mask that mirrored Lucius', and his resemblance to Caine was physical.

But no one would mistake their blood kinship, even with the dramatic difference in colouring, even though Lucius and Caine didn't resemble each other at all.

Rayden and he had wondered about this, once - but they were not Ravenclaws to be insatiably curious. Unless the resemblance hid or signified a great secret there was no real significance to it, and as all the world knew of Luc Malfoy's tangled familial bonds and the reasons for it, the secret had well and truly lost its power.

It was enough to know.

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Finally, the eye contact was broken when McGonagall, a strict, severe old witch buttoned up to her throat in all encompassing robes, called out "de Sauvigny, Adam". One of the admirers from the group around Caine walked up to the dais and sat on the chair, wincing a little when the Hat was lowered onto his head.

He need not have worried - the Hat wasted no time before sending him to the Gryffindor table. Caine himself, who was next, was barely seated on the chair and the hat barely lowered onto his head before it bellowed out Gryffindor. Luc smiled grimly, a little bitterly, as he watched the Gryffindor table cheer and reach out to enfold him.

Rayden wondered where that bitterness had come from, and just what Caine had done to provoke it...Luc was very even tempered, as were all Malfoy, (or perhaps it was safer to say they were very well controlled) so it must have been something major to induce the hatred he saw in those silver eyes as he watched the de Sauvigny heir accept his rightful place in society.

Still watching with a strange, self mocking smile playing bitterly at the edge of his lips, Luc watched "de Sauvigny, Dominic" walk up to be Sorted - a black haired, confident boy who stood tall and proud - and barely restrained himself to a blink when his robes turned green and silver, rather than red and gold. Dominic himself seemed to be stunned, but after one last glance towards his equally surprised cousins, whose eyes had gone blank, and then had begun to show signs of dawning suspicion and prejudice, he headed towards the Slytherin table, who were watching gleefully as one of the de Sauvigny, who had been self-righteous Gryffindors for generations, was finally sent their way.

His cousin, Michel, was also sent to Slytherin - the relief on Dominic's face was completely unfeigned and more than a little guilty. Luc watched puzzled - Michel, even from here, looked rather dreamy and less than calculating...

After the de Sauvigny, a pretty, red haired girl named Lily Evans was called, and placed into Gryffindor where she was welcomed with laughter and smiles from Sirius Black and the rest of them. Her sister, Katherine, was dark haired, and she threw a smile towards Lily as she sat on the chair, obviously confident about where she would eventually end up.

She was placed in Slytherin.

Incredulous looks came from the Gryffindor table, and dead silence from the Slytherin table. They were all racking their brains for any families with the surname Evans - and coming up short. No, it couldn't be, could it? Of course not. Mudbloods weren't allowed in Slytherin...but it was true, someone said. She had no wizarding blood at all...

Her steps faltered as she approached the table and she saw the looks in their eyes. This was not good. Not good at all...she chose a spot, sat down and avoided everyone's eyes.

Only mildly interested, Luc wondered just how long she'd last before she was torn apart.

So, Avery, Andahni and Courtney had been placed in Slytherin, as everyone had known they would, and Black went to Gryffindor as they had all foreseen. Lestrange joined his elder brother and his cousin at the Slytherin table, and then it was Lupin's turn.

Lupin didn't know what he wanted. He didn't want to be in Hufflepuff, he knew that much...but he couldn't decide between Slytherin and Gryffindor. He knew that in Gryffindor he would become great friends with Black and Potter, if he made it in. No doubt his days would be filled with pranks and laughter and all the immaturity of boys raised to be boys, not aristocrats.

He would feel ancient compared to them.

In Slytherin he would be among intellectual equals, with people who thought as he did, who knew of reality and life. But he didn't think he was capable of the dispassionate coldness with which so many Slytherins approached life - he knew that he wasn't capable of playing their power games and manipulations. He could learn, but it was more than ability, it was simply that he didn't believe he was suited to the necessary ruthlessness. As much as he appreciated their humour and their intelligence, he knew that they were much deeper than that, and the coldness went soul deep, was instinctive, ingrained by the customs and ways of a class that he didn't know, could never be part of.

He was not High Clan, and he never would be.

So he chose Gryffindor, innocence and friendship over Slytherin, cynicism and alliances. And he knew, even as he joined his cheering housemates, that he had made the right choice.

Finally it was Luc's turn.

As soon as he heard his name called, he heard the mutters, the speculation - not a whisperer was less than certain he would be a Slytherin. He didn't take offence - he was more than certain he would be, too. Not that all of Malfoy blood were automatically put into Slytherin - there had been one exception, in more than a thousand years, but he had not even been raised as a Malfoy - but Luc knew that he was a Slytherin. He could feel it, instinctively.

However, the hat was less certain. He heard its voice in his head as he watched the faces turned towards him from the Slytherin table.

"Hmm, a Malfoy! That should automatically qualify you for Slytherin, but wait, you've de Sauvigny blood...the de Sauvigny are a mixed House, producing both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Perhaps you would...? But no, there's too much ruthlessness here, even at eleven, and ambition, oh my, you've got ambition...You've a thirst to prove yourself, don't you? Courage, oh yes, but tempered by cold pragmatism, and a complete lack of scruples, oh my boy, I pity whoever crosses you... And yet, you've a strong protective streak, and you know how to love - you've got honour, but it's High Clan, Slytherin honour... You're too cold, too strong for Gryffindor, but Slytherin...you could rule Slytherin. Yes, Slytherin will make you great."

And his robes gained a green and silver trim, and he headed towards the Slytherin table, where his brother shortly joined him, followed in due time by Snape.

They sat in a group, all seven of them - the two Malfoy brothers, Snape, Avery and Lestrange and Andahni and Courtney - not a complete whole, but a slightly uneven group made up of two factions, which in themselves were not wholes, either.

Luc watched the two de Sauvigny cousins as they came to grips with the fact that they would be spending the next seven years with children from a completely different class - the House of de Sauvigny was a High Clan, but they were generally not from the hereditary Slytherin Clans, they were predominantly Gryffindor. They knew their housemates as acquaintances, people they met only socially because they moved in different circles and played different games.

He wondered, somewhat cruelly, if after being thrown in at the deep end, whether they would learn to swim or if they would drown. He couldn't care less - he was not part of the House, just because his mother was a de Sauvigny it didn't mean he had anything to do with its members. He was their closest blood relative in Slytherin, but that didn't mean he had any obligation to look after them at all.

Shared blood meant nothing when it wasn't acknowledged.

He avoided Lucius and Snape's knowing eyes when he made that resolve, and gave all his further attention to his food.

Just before they left the Hall to go to their beds, he caught a further glance of a dark haired girl, standing on her own, curiously alone and defenceless amongst the alliances and blood ties that tied all the other Slytherins together. She was even more helpless than the de Sauvigny, he realized - they at least knew their classmates and something of their ways. Coming fresh from the Muggle world, she would have no idea of how to survive, and she had no convenient blood ties unacknowledged or not, or anyone to act as a protector.....

He spared a moment to watch her, to notice how well she hid her fear, and when he was watching, her eyes lifted to his.

They were green, and he could see all the way through them into her soul.

Stunned, he tore his eyes away from hers, and hurried away, not looking back.

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Kate watched him go. She knew who he was, knew what he was - a scion of the greatest House in Slytherin, worldly, charismatic, ruthless and intelligent, but a bastard. He had no real power in this school, among these children, other than what he would win himself.

And it seemed, from the way he stood proud and arrogant among the group of seven boys, the dominant first years, that he had indeed carved himself out a position of his own. He was a player in his own right, not because his brother was the Malfoy heir.

Perhaps, just perhaps, he would be strong enough to shield her from the consequences of being a mudblood in Slytherin - being a Malfoy, he would have an automatic protection anyway, bastard or no, but Kate had no wizarding blood whatsoever. She had no protection at all - so that meant that she had to find herself a strong protector.

If she had to be in Slytherin, she was going to survive and she was going to triumph. She was not going to cower as they all thought mudbloods should, she was going to rule. If she couldn't do it openly, then she would do it through a strong façade from the shadows.

Katherine Evans was not going to give in – not to them. Oh, no, not to them…

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