"We have to talk," said the Hat.
"No, we don't," answered Headmistress McGonagall simply, as she continued to write out a message on the desk in her office. Silence reigned, except for the scratching of her quill on the parchment.
"I'm a relic," said the Hat. "The House system is wrong. It divides us. If not for the quarrel between Salazar and Godric, House rivalry may not have become so strong. But the Battle for Hogwarts convinced me… the House system is wrong."
McGonagall continued to write, apparently ignoring the Hat.
"I've been mis-Sorting students," the Hat persisted.
McGonagall's quill paused.
"Peter Pettigrew, for example," the Hat continued. "What about him possibly seemed Gryffindorian to you? I wanted to see what would happen, if bravery could be encouraged in a boy who was quite bereft of it. I'm afraid that one didn't work out so well."
The quill resumed its journey across the parchment.
"Are you writing to Neville Longbottom?" the Hat queried. "Now I could tell you about him…"
"Shut up," McGonagall grumbled. One of the portraits giggled quietly. She ignored it and continued to write.
"I've been mis-Sorting for generations," the Hat started after another long pause, during which McGonagall slipped her wand into her hand. "For instance-"
"Silencio," McGonagall snapped, and the Hat became quiet.
"Now what are you supposed to remember?" Drucy's mother asked her, just after they stepped out of the fireplace leading to Diagon Alley.
"No Parseltongue," Drucy dutifully recited. "Don't draw attention to myself. And avoid strangers."
Drucy loved both of her parents very much, but she preferred to spend time with her father. He was calm, easy-going, and didn't fuss over things she didn't even understand. Her mother was stricter, and somehow Drucy always felt as if she was about to say the wrong thing when with her. This time, though, her big sister Esme was with them as well, and Esme had a way of making things easier. She patiently explained matters to Drucy, providing a bridge between her and their mother. Right now, for instance, she winked at Drucy and squeezed her hand just a little in encouragement.
Esme was a Big Girl, entering her fourth year at Hogwarts, and Drucy thought she knew everything. But… Drucy wasn't sure she liked her sister being away at school. It was nice to have her father's uninterrupted attention, but she could have done without her mother's extra scrutiny, and Esme had seemed different ever since she'd come home the first time. She was more distant, didn't spend as much time with the family, and talked frequently of a boy Drucy had come to hate because Esme seemed to like him so much… a boy who seemed to gain the favor of everybody in Slytherin and many other Houses besides. Now it was Drucy's turn to start at Hogwarts, and her first thought was to find out just what was taking her sister away from her.
For now, though… Drucy looked down the street in excitement. This time, she was going to be the "princess of the day", being given her brand new setup for Hogwarts, measured for robes, and given her very own wand. Her mother had an old wand with a dragon heartstring that had been passed down through the generations, and she planned to have it fixed up, either recored or re-wooded, depending on which part of the family wand was better, just for her younger daughter's use. Though a wand carelessly handed down to a younger sibling tended to be weaker than a new one, those who could afford to have an heirloom wand refurbished by Ollivander (or, increasingly, his assistant) were very lucky indeed. Drucy felt quite important, even though she knew that it would be a while before she was actually able to start shopping. Her mother, as usual, had to make a stop at Gringott's first.
It was a cloudy day, cooler than usual for late summer, with a distinct scent in the air that suggested a possibility of rain later on. Drucy begged her mother to be allowed to sit in the gazebo near the ice cream parlor instead of following her into Gringotts. She far preferred the little corner of nature to huge marble columns and goblins chattering endlessly about interests and financings and all sorts of stuff that interested her sister far more than herself. Esme interceded as well, and Drucy was allowed to sit quietly in the gazebo while her mother and sister entered that huge, gleaming building where their fortune lay.
"Ok," Drucy said quietly as she leaned back on the bench. "You can come out for a moment, it's safe." From inside her pretty blue robes, a small, emerald green snake slowly emerged. It wound around her arm and up into one of the vines climbing the bars of the gazebo. "It's going to be a long day for you," she told it. "And you'll have to keep quiet. When we're home, I'll give you some extra time in the garden." She had picked up this particular 'pet' weeks ago and was very carefully concealing its existence from her mother. Her mother 'freaked out' whenever she caught Drucy playing with snakes.
"What are you doing?" Another voice startled Drucy and she turned, glad that the little snake's green scales blended in reasonably well with the viney foliage. A boy stood there, about her age, wearing Muggle clothing. "Why are you making that funny sound?"
"Who are you?" Drucy asked in return, her voice a little sharp with a sudden nervousness. Had he seen her snake? Did he realize she was talking to it? "What are you doing here?"
"I'm supposed to be here, I think," the boy told her. "I'm a wizard." He said this proudly; hand on his hip, head up. Then the pride melted quickly into wry amusement. "I just found out a few days ago. It was kind of a shock to my parents."
Why would it be a shock to his parents? Weren't they… Drucilla looked at the boy's clothing and realized that she knew why. "You're Muggle-born, aren't you?"
"That depends," the boy told her cautiously. "What's a Muggle?"
Drucy gave the boy a quick primer on the heritage of wizards… pure-blood, half-blood, Muggle-born, and Squibs. "My sister says that the Hogwarts teachers told her that Squibs often marry into Muggle families, and then the magical ability springs out where it's not expected. I guess that's what must have happened to you. Are you going to Hogwarts, then?"
"According to my letter," the boy told her. He had taken a seat across from her during her explanation. He paused for a moment, then grinned. "Let's try this again. Hi. I'm Daniel Jacobs. And your name is?"
"Drucy Bulstrode. What kind of a name is 'Daniel'?"
"What kind of a name is 'Drucy'?" he returned easily. She looked at him again, noticing details she hadn't before. His hair was dark and rumpled. His clothing looked worn, his… leg things… torn at the knee. He had a bit of defiance in his posture, as if he was used to being challenged. "'Drucy' is short for Drucilla," she told him, a bit of defiance coming into her own posture.
"What kind of name is Drucilla?" he persisted, looking amused.
"It's a perfectly good wizarding name," Drucy retorted. "What are you doing here by yourself? Are y our parents at Gringott's?"
Daniel shook his head. "Dad brought me, but he stopped at the Leaky Cauldron for a drink," he said, an odd tone in his voice. "He's probably having another. Maybe another. I'm going to wait for him a while longer, but then I'll just go get my own stuff." The bravado resurfaced. "I can get my own stuff. I've done it before."
Drucy could read between the lines. She also completely lacked her sister's guile. "He's getting drunk," she said plainly.
From the look on Daniel's face, she thought at first that he might hit her. Her eyes widened. She'd never had anybody react like that to her before. Then he relaxed and nodded grimly. "Basically. Hey. If you weren't cute, I wouldn't have let you get away from that."
Cute? Really? Drucy felt immediately affronted for reasons she couldn't quite figure out. "If you keep that up," she informed him icily, "I will go away."
"Aw, no, don't," Daniel smiled again. "I'm sorry, you're not cute." That infuriated her. He was laughing at her! She suddenly wanted to hit him now, and she even drew back her fist before she realized what she was doing. He chuckled. "Go ahead, I deserved it. Give me your best shot."
Drucy shook her head, lowering her fist, rising to her feet. "I am not going to strike you," she told him in that same frigid tone. She reached out her hand to the vine, and her snake slipped obediently onto her hand and into her sleeve. Unfortunately, this caught Daniel's attention again. "Is that a snake?" he asked, his voice changing to enthusiasm. "Cool! Can I see? I'll be gentle. Please?"
His tone mollified her, and she settled down to show him the snake. "It's ok," she told it very quietly. "Go ahead."
He watched in wonder as it transferred itself to his arm, looking up into his face. "What a beauty," he said quietly. "You were hissing at it again. Why were you doing that? Can wizards talk to snakes?"
Drucy wanted to swear. "Oops," she finally said, furious at herself and horrified at his realization. "Please don't tell anyone. My mother told me not to do it in public. Uh, some wizards can talk to snakes. But it's rare, and… please don't tell."
She was afraid that he was going to make a joke, or hold a threat over her head. To her surprise, his face turned quite serious. "I won't tell," he said. "I promise I won't." He held out his hand, and the snake transferred back to her arm. Then it quickly slithered back into her robes, where she could feel it taking back its nice warm spot on her shoulder. She knew that it liked the dark warmth.
"Drucy! What are you doing?" Her mother's sharp tone cut the air, and Drucy turned to see her striding up to the gazebo with Esme in tow. "Talking to strangers!"
Before Drucy could speak, the boy had left the gazebo. He met her mother halfway and attempted a bow. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bulstrode," he told her with a bright smile. "My name is Daniel Jacobs, and I will be one of your daughter's classmates at Hogwarts this year. She was kindly telling me a little about the wonders that await me within the wizarding community." Drucy watched wide-eyed. She'd never seen a kid try to charm her mother like that before.
"Muggle-born, aren't you?" her mother replied, just barely keeping the sharpness out of her voice. Daniel took this far better than Drucy had anticipated.
"Yes ma'am, I know it's written on my forehead," he said wryly, but not without humor. With another bow, he turned and walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Drucy staring wide-eyed in mild horror, her mother watching with her mouth in a thin line, and Esme shaking with silent laughter.