Chapter Five – Everything in its Right Place
The
Hogwarts Express pulled up as Harry hurried to meet it, armed with a
huge trunk and Hedwig swinging precariously from his side. His
last year at
Hogwarts had well and truly begun. Spying Hermione
in the crowds of smiles
and chattering wizards and witches he
bounded towards her, his trunk
smashing occasionally against his
legs.
He
stopped slightly. She looked a lot more drawn than he was used to.
Her
opinion of him was obviously somewhere in the same region by
the look on her
face.
'Harry…' she said quickly. 'Are you okay?'
'I could say the same to you. You look terrible.'
'Thanks,'
she said slightly agitated. 'That's exactly what a woman wants to
hear.'
'Hey,'
another voice said softly behind them. Ron slowly walked towards
them, Ginny at his heels.
Hermione
launched herself at him and then stood back to assess his features.
His eyes had bags under them as if he hadn't slept for days and
his left arm
was obviously bandaged.
'What happened to you?' she asked shocked.
'Stupid
git thought it would be fun to attempt a huge loop the loop in the
confines of our garden,' Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione.
'Needless to
say, it didn't go quite the way he expected.'
'But the bandages?' Hermione asked suspiciously.
'Mum said they would help with the Muggle infection,' Ginny said swiftly.
Harry
and Ginny had so far refused to look at each other, but she flashed
him a quick smile to indicate her thoughts on Ron's stupidity
and Harry had
the good grace to grin back slightly.
'So
what do you have to say for yourself?' Hermione asked, giving Ginny
a
strange look before focussing her attentions on Ron.
'Boys will be boys?' He shrugged grinning at her.
Hermione
laughed, her pointy little teeth reflecting the light. Snape's
words had put her slightly more on her guard than she would
usually be.
She
hugged Ron again, being careful not to go near his bandaged arm, for
which he was very grateful. He was certain that it emitted heat
or otherwise
blared out 'I have a Dark Mark!'
Ron
dutifully removed Hermione's bag from her hands, sweeping away her
protests by rolling his eyes at her and climbed onto the train
after Harry
and Ginny. Finding a compartment, they fell to their
seats in an exhausted
fashion. Harry however, reluctantly moved
his weight from one foot to the
other and didn't sit.
Ron
looked at him with a question in his eyes and Harry simply replied,
'I'm
Head Boy, I gotta go and do Head Boy things.'
Ron
grinned happily and Hermione practically wet herself. Ginny however,
looked away and didn't say anything. Harry shrugged and moved
towards the
front compartment.
'I
knew he would be!' Hermione stated triumphantly. 'I wonder who
they made
Head Girl…'
'You mean it's not you?' Ron asked in surprise.
'They
can't have two Gryffindors as Head Boy and Girl, it would be
complete
favouritism. Head Girl would have to be from one of the
other houses.'
Just
then, Harry popped his head through the window, panting slightly as
if
he had run back with distinct speed. 'Head Girl is Susan
Bones,' he told
them. Then he gave them a mock salute, grinned
and jogged off.
Hermione
nodded appreciatively, 'Do you know… I really expected a
Slytherin.'
'I hope you didn't want one,' Ron told her.
'Of
course not! And now that she's finishing splinching herself in
Apparition, I think she's a good choice.'
Suddenly,
the door swung open again and instead of the expected face of
Harry,
Ron and Hermione stiffened slightly as Draco Malfoy stood in the
doorway.
'McGonagall
has pretty much ordered me to sit here.' He scowled and looked
at
the floor.
'No
bloody way! We don't let murderers in our…' Ron was quickly cut
off by
Hermione.
'Shut
up Ron. If McGonagall is making him, he has to sit here. You want to
get on the wrong side of the new Headmistress already?'
'Besides,
I'm not a murderer,' Draco said shakily sitting down next to
Hermione.
Ron
sent nasty looks at Draco who turned away to the window, appearing to
carefully assess the background.
'Oh
for goodness sake,' Hermione said exasperated. 'I'm not going
to sit
here whilst you two make it so uncomfortable. No one can
change what has
happened and I know that I can never understand
what kind of pressure you
were under with a Death Eater for a
father,' she said hoping that Malfoy
would accept her olive
branch.
'I don't need your defence,' he said quietly.
'You
may as well help us understand what you did.' Hermione was
desperately
trying to clear the air. Draco smiled evilly at her;
he had forgotten for a
minute that she knew a lot more than Ron
did. It was with enjoyment that he
remembered he definitely had a
hold on Hermione if he ever needed it. The
Ministry would be very
interested to hear that she had allowed Snape to
escape.
Draco
stiffened as he felt Ron's eyes burning into him. 'There's
nothing to
understand!' Draco shouted angrily, his temper
overshadowing his thoughts of
glorious revenge on the Mudblood.
'The Dark Lord told me I could either die like
my father was
going to or go on a mission for him.'
'Then you should have died, or let Dumbledore help you,' Ron said quietly.
'Easy
for you to say. It wasn't your neck on the line and it wasn't
your
family that would be killed if you didn't do what he
said.' Draco clenched
his fists. 'It was easier… yes
easier, to just pretend that I was the person
that could betray
everyone. Could you let your family die, Weasel, for the
life of
one person?'
'Yes!' Ron said. 'I mean no… I mean…'
'Not
so black and white is it?' Draco finished bitterly before turning
to
whatever was so riveting out of the window. He considered
something and
added briefly, 'I have to go through these
questions with everyone I talk
to, everyone I knew. If you take
anything from this… Just know that this is
killing me, okay?
You got what you wanted.'
'I'm glad you feel bad,' Ron said seriously with darkness in his gaze.
Draco
looked at him with emptiness in his eyes, 'Sometimes I doubt that
the
houses are anything but names.'
'What do you mean by that?' Ron asked sharply.
'It's
a Death Eater quality to enjoy the misery of others.' As he saw Ron
start to open his mouth he talked over him, 'don't say
anything, just think.
Death Eaters hold beliefs too you know,
they aren't just mindless robots.
They enjoy misery when they
believe that they are righting wrongs or
injustices, just like
what you're doing now. The difference between
Slytherin and
Gryffindor is simply appearances, and appearances are not
everything… not even close.'
Draco
gave Ron a scathing look and roughly opened the door of the
compartment, striding out. 'And as much as I want to be trusted
again.' With
this he rolled his eyes. 'Some orders are worth
disobeying.'
Watching
Draco's feet stomp away, Hermione turned to Ron bitterly. 'You
could have made a bit more of an effort.'
'It's not my fault!'
Ron
and Hermione spent the rest of the journey exchanging glaring looks
at
each other. As the tension was growing unbearable, the train
finally pulled
up to Hogwarts.
It
looked as wondrous as ever, but the feeling was slightly different
this
year. There would be no Dumbledore to greet them at the
start of term feast
and no Snape to glower from his perch at the
end of the table. Two of the
most influential teachers were gone
and no one knew just what to expect
anymore. Hagrid collected the
first years as usual, yet Harry noticed with a
sinking feeling
that there was a sadness in his eyes and a limp in his step.
He
had never thought of Hagrid as old, but grey was beginning to tinge
his
beard and hair.
Entering
the Great Hall, Harry, Hermione and Ron kept
their heads down and
found their places without a sound or an upward
glance.
Everything was so instantly recognisable and so irritatingly normal.
But Hogwarts was different, and the sooner they came to accept
that, the
better.
The
first years lined up as usual and the smiling face of McGonagall
attempted to welcome them as warmly as possible. They trotted
nervously into
the hall as though they expected to be under
attack any minute. The Sorting
Hat looked as tattered as ever and
Harry could swear that the stitches
appeared different, giving it
a sort of sad look. When the fear of the first
years finally came
to a climax in fidgeting and shuffling, the Sorting Hat
began to
sing:
'Now
I'm not entirely certain
when I first started this task.
Of
splitting up the first years,
seeing the soul behind the
mask.
This year I shall not bore you
with tales of bravery and
heart.
But simply ask the question;
is this the time to be
apart?
I beg you please don't hold me
in a view of truth and
power.
I've been wrong before, dear first years,
this sorting
could turn sour.
Two choices were the opposite
of what I should
have made.
I get to put one right today,
but can the other
still be saved?
Like Voldemort, this old brown hat
has been
swayed by what doesn't matter.
Corrupted by your wizard
views;
blood and family should not factor.
So I ask you, my
friend, to take
your sorting with a pinch of salt.
And I'll
just look forward to the day
when they finally call a halt.'
'Let the Sorting begin,' it said drearily.
'Doesn't seem so sure of itself this year,' Ron said.
'Who's
the hat talking about; two choices it made that were wrong?' Harry
asked puzzled. Hermione continued to stare at the hat, trying to
somehow
glean more information from it.
'I
dunno. I just can't believe it talked so openly about the Dark
Lord,' Ron
said without thinking.
'Since when do you call him 'the Dark Lord?' Harry asked incredulously.
Ron
shrugged quickly and tried to direct Harry's attention towards a
new
broom advertised in the Prophet. Harry was quickly engrossed
in a quiet and
excited discussion about its capabilities, but
Hermione studied Ron with a
mixture of worry and dread. She was
not so quick to forget the implications
of his turn of phrase.
The
first years took turns at sitting on the stool and the Sorting Hat
appeared to be having genuine difficulties at deciding which
house to put
people in. When finally 'Collins, Georgia' had
still not been placed in a
house after twenty minutes of wearing
the hat, McGonagall had a quiet word
with it. The hat, being a
hat, didn't really look any different from her
words but
appeared to be finally deciding. Ron picked his head up off the
table and Harry blinked his eyes back into focus. The Sorting Hat
leaned
back slightly, as everyone leaned forwards. Its mouth
opened and everyone's
eyes were suddenly on it.
'I
have no idea,' it announced authoritatively. 'Join whichever
table you
like.'
Georgia
seemed to be in agony as the entire school hall focussed its eyes
entirely on her and her decision. She turned to McGonagall in
fear and the
Headmistress pursed her lips and walked calmly
towards her.
'Do
you have any brothers and sisters here?' she asked discreetly.
Georgia
nodded.
'Then I suggest you go and sit with them,' McGonagall said kindly.
Georgia
walked off, ignoring the glares from the other houses as she sat
down with her siblings at the Ravenclaw table.
As
the hat continued to sort in a laboured fashion, Ron charmed a paper
aeroplane to fly repeatedly into Hermione's head to her
distinct annoyance.
Harry yawned and fell into a daydream
involving both Quidditch and Ginny
Weasley in a slightly
unconventional combination. As the hat took another
excruciatingly
dull fifteen minutes to sort the last person into the notably
bland
Hufflepuff house, everyone breathed a sigh of relief as the Sorting
was over.
As
soon as people began to stir, however, the noise of sharp quick
footsteps
sent everyone's attention to the entrance doors to
the hall. Draco Malfoy
strode purposefully towards the Sorting
Hat, keeping his head down and
ignoring several shouts that were
along the lines of accusing him of murder
and threatening to
disembowel him. Without even a glance to the people
around him,
he took a seat at the stool and put the Sorting Hat squarely
onto
his gleaming blond head.
Strangely,
this time, the hat's evaluation rang clear through the hall rather
than being a personal summary only disclosed to the person
themselves.
'I
hope you don't mind, but I'm going to let the others hear this
one. It
is, of course, the first time I've ever resorted a
student. Anyway, down to
business.
'Humility
is definitely different, seems to have replaced arrogance in a huge
capacity. Guilt remains the same, just placed differently. There
is sadness,
oh yes, that clouds a lot of your more… personable
characteristics, but it's
important that you learn from your
mistakes.
'Talent
is as I expected, but knowledge seems to have grown with age beyond
your natural capacities. Darkness is still there but redirected.
Anger has
greater emphasis than I would advise. Doubt overshadows
a lot of what I
missed before, and hatred still blooms clear
throughout your mind. There is
definitely bravery, oh yes, a lot
more than you would like to admit to and a
need to put things
right. Fear makes a thin film over everything and you'll
never
lose the paranoia in the back of your mind; circumstantial I'm
afraid.
'I'm
sorry Draco; I failed you the first time round. If I would have
looked
beyond your parentage, blood and how you've been bought
up to feel I would
have given you an unexpected, yet accurate
sorting. Your actions last year
showed that you would rather face
death than protect yourself when you
believe in something. It can
only, and has always been…
'GRYFFINDOR!'
