Heiress to Slytherin's Legacy
Author's note: Hello there! So much for updating constantly, right? In my defense, I had exams last week, and well, you know how those get. In any case, enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!
-M
DISCLAIMER. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the OC belongs to me.
Chapter 2
Loraleen did not intend to reach Hogwarts through the Black Lake. She did not intend to subject herself to the embarrassment of being the only sixth year among a large group of jumpy first years. And she most definitely did not intend to find herself in the middle of a tiny boat when she could have been seated comfortably in one of those charming horseless carriages. But it seemed destiny enjoyed mocking her far too much as sitting in a boat was precisely where she was at the moment, much to her discontent.
After exiting the Hogwarts Express with her travel acquaintances, she had expressed her vehement desire to go unnoticed and ride a carriage as anyone her age would without much further ado. Unfortunately, her name had been loudly yelled before she could accomplish her goal by whom she now knew, was the current groundskeeper. Having been raised to adapt to unwanted situations quickly and smoothly, she had feigned delight at being informed the headmaster had required her to ride the boats as any new student would, never mind the fact she was actually five years older than the average.
Loraleen had glared at Snape upon spotting his laughing eyes before recovering her poise and politely biding him and Regulus goodbye, distractedly adding that she would see them latter as she was ushered forward by the groundskeeper, who had introduced himself as Hagrid and whom Loraleen highly suspected was a half giant based on his height. The man had told her just how much she would probably enjoy the ride and to find him if she had any trouble getting into the boats. Just after, he had bellowed for the first years to follow him and had led the way through a thick mass of trees. They had gone through a steep and narrow path, which seemed to be leading to the lake; upon reaching the shore gasps had been heard among the gathered group.
Imposing and arresting, just across the Black Lake, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry perched itself on top of the high mountain. Towers and turrets stretching into the sky, visible in the mist thanks to the bright light filtering through their windows. Stone carved walls composed the magnificent piece of architecture, irradiating old magic and inciting an unexpected sense of belonging in the new students.
Just like that, Loraleen had helped herself to one of the boats after Hagrid's prompting to do so and had found herself seated next to two little girls who were gossiping amongst themselves, their chatter halting only for a moment as the boats had been set in motion. As Loraleen contemplated her fate, her eyes scanned the dark waters surrounding her, the candle hanging from the boat's front casting earie shadows into the water. Unafraid and slightly curious, Loraleen stared, wondering at the ripples formed by whatever hid underneath the surface.
The girl's voice cut though Loraleen's thoughts, drawing her attention away from the water.
"My sister constantly speaks about a sixth year Gryffindor boy who is nothing but trouble, she told me to stay far away from him and his friends if I get sorted into their house."
Loraleen had civilly smiled in acknowledgment at the girls when they had boarded, making sure they would not think she was purposely ignoring them, but keeping to herself. The girls hadn't seemed bothered by her lack of interest and had continued with their conversation, which Loraleen had made a wonderful job a droning out until the little blond had picked her interest.
"I don't really know why though. She said they don't know when too much is too much and that she wouldn't want me to get hurt, apparently..." her voice halted upon hearing Hagrid's instruction to lower their heads.
Just below the cliff's face, behind the ivy, a wide opening hid, leading into an underground harbor. The group climbed out of the boats and followed the groundskeeper up a flight of stairs carved into the stone; their path lit by floating candles every few steps. Loraleen stayed at the back, letting the younger witches and wizards lead the way ahead of her, allowing the difference in height between her and the first years to make up for the distance to the front. The staircase opened into what she assumed was the entrance courtyard; grass surrounded the cobblestone square leading to the main entrance of the building, marked by a massive, oak door.
The 11-year-olds huddled around Hagrid as he knocked trice. The door immediately swung open, a tall witch with her dark hair in a tight bun and clad in green robes stepped out.
"Thanks for bringing the first years to the castle Hagrid," said the witch with a stern tone, managing to reflect her gratitude through it. "I will take it from here."
The witch, whom Hagrid had addressed as Professor McGonagall as he bid her goodnight, motioned for them to follow her into the entrance hall, her eyes stopping for a beat longer on Loraleen as she surveyed the group. Loraleen followed quietly, examining the ample space as she walked in. Torches lit the hall, barely managing to illuminate all the way up to the high ceiling. A wide marble staircase facing the oak door lead into the upper floors, where another set of staircases could be glimpsed. To her right a set of double doors remained closed, yet she could hear the voices of her soon-to-be classmates filtering through.
"This way," instructed Professor McGonagall as she led them in the opposite direction of the double doors and into a spacious antechamber. The professor waited by the doors until every student had walked through the threshold and settled inside, stepping though herself, she closed the door.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," started the witch addressing the group. "You will be joining the other students shortly for the start of term banquet. However, before you can take your seats at the Great Hall, you must be sorted into your Houses."
The witch made a pause, letting the significance of this formality sink in.
"The Sorting Ceremony holds great importance for every student, as it will define in which House you will be for the rest of your time in Hogwarts. Whichever House you go to will become your second family, you will take classes with its members, sleep in the House's dorm rooms, eat at the House's table in the Great Hall and relax in the House's common room.
The four Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. All them honorable Houses, praised through history for the outstanding witches and wizards they have produced. Each House has a Head of House, which is a professor in charge of overseeing the students in their House. While in Hogwarts, your achievements will grant your House points, any act of misbehavior will most likely cause deductions to your House's score. At the end of the year the House Cup will be awarded, which is a prize for the House with the most accumulated points.
Regardless of which House you go to, I hope you will make a nice addition and feel comfortable among your peers. As the Sorting will start shortly, I suggest you use the remaining minutes to straighten your robes and make yourself presentable," concluded the witch.
She made for the door but stopped as she reached the handle. Turning around, she faced Loraleen and said, "Miss Ollerton, a word if you please."
Loraleen neared the professor as the chamber erupted in low chatter.
"Professor McGonagall," addressed Loraleen with a nod of her head to show respect.
The witch scrutinized her with her piercing emerald eyes for a second, "Miss Ollerton, as your fellow classmates, you will be sorted in the Great Hall. It is usually done alphabetically but because of the uniqueness of your situation you will be sorted last, regardless of your last name. You might join me at the front of the line or wait by the end, it is up to you."
Loraleen assessed her options, not minding being sorted last. With her last name, she would have had to wait anyway.
"I would rather walk at the back, I wouldn't want to be in anyone's way," replied the sixth year sensibly. In truth, she couldn't care less.
"Very well, Miss Ollerton and welcome to Hogwarts."
"Thank you, professor."
With that, Professor McGonagall pulled the handle and left, leaving the new students to their own devices. The majority of the group was talking excitedly about the Sorting Ceremony and wondered aloud what it might consist of. Loraleen, amused, heard the brainstorm and laughed discreetly at the most farfetched ideas, marveled at their imagination. McGonagall came back after a few minutes and demanded the students form a line and follow her, leading them back across the entrance hall and through the open doors of the Great Hall. As she walked, Loraleen noticed the hourglasses standing tall by the double doors, two in each side. Each of them held different colored gems that stayed put as the seconds went by. Loraleen assumed the colors represented the Houses but speculated on what purpose they served.
Her attention refocused on the Great Hall as she crossed the threshold. Four long tables filled the length of the room with students sitting comfortably watching the progression. At the very front, a set of steps led into a raised dais, where another table, perpendicular to the other four, seated the professors and staff. Loraleen admired the enchanted ceiling, charmed to look just the like sky outside, and appreciated the thousands of floating candles which lit up the room with their warm glow.
She noticed the curious glances some students were throwing her way, and ignored them as well as she could, keeping her eyes fixed on the front of the room. She followed the first years as they lined up just in front of the high table and took her place at the furthest corner. On top of the steps, just in front of the professor's table, Professor McGonagall set a four-legged stool, placing an old hat on top of it.
The hall grew silent, everyone's attention focused on the hat. Loraleen stared as well and arched an eyebrow in surprise as a rip near its brim opened wide allowing the hat to begin to sing.
"If we go back, to founders' time
When my presence wasn't needed
We'd see our precious students
Being sorted by the leaders
The four heads of the school
Would choose just who to teach
For they sought different traits
In their prospective trainees
Starting with Godric Gryffindor
He'd focus on the brave
For those of great courage
He'd always have a place
Yet for Rowena Ravenclaw
The cleverest were her goal
For those wise beyond measure
Would prosper under her words
And still there stood the loyal
Who Helga Hufflepuff would teach
For their honesty and dedication
Were the true keys to succeed
Salazar Slytherin was the last
Who deemed worthy the ambitious
He would only accept students
Who complied with the old traditions
So, time went by and they realized
They would not always be around
Pouring their magic and their knowledge
They created the Sorting Hat!
Before you now, I proudly stand
Sharing a story of quite old age
For my duty is now to quarter
And to everyone give a place
Don't you worry, don't despair
For I know where you shall go
But before I can start sorting
A warning's waiting to be told
Darker times are fast approaching
Some would say it's much too late
But as long as we are in Hogwarts
We stand united nonetheless
Don't dare judge, don't dare forget
It's the same magic we all share
Inside these walls we'll make a stand
For a role we must all play
But in the meantime, let's enjoy
There's a feast waiting for us
With nothing else to say
Let the Sorting now begin!"
The hall erupted in loud cheers as the song came to a close and Loraleen found herself clapping along. The witch surveyed the tables and wondered at the cause of the slightly concerned looks in the older students' faces.
Professor McGonagall, unbothered, brought out a scroll and faced the students.
"Alton, Arcidel," bellowed the witch.
The little boy walked forward looking slightly nervous as he sat on the stool and let the hat be placed on top of his head. Barely a few seconds had passed when the rip by the seam opened wide and yelled for all to hear, "Ravenclaw!"
The Ravenclaw table applauded and cheered in welcome, the other Houses following suit in a less excited manner. Professor McGonagall called name after name; the hat sorting every new student into its House in matter of seconds and in selected cases, taking a few minutes. Loraleen recognized the blonde little girl who had shared the boat with her and smiled lightly as she was sorted into Gryffindor. Student after student, they found themselves seated into their respective Houses and soon there were no first years standing by the steps.
"Ollerton, Loraleen," announced Professor McGonagall.
Schooling her features, Loraleen went up the stone steps leading to the small wooden stool. Silence reigned across the hall as she ascended, curious eyes dancing at the prospect of gossip. Students being enrolled so far along their studies was a rare occurrence, almost as rare as receiving transfers from other schools and so it seemed both young and old at Hogwarts were eager to figure out which was the case for her.
Upon reaching the stool, she gracefully sat down. Back straight, hands on her lap, ankles crossed and the mere hint of a smile grazing her lips, simply put, the Pure-blood way. She felt the Sorting Hat being placed on her head, the worn yet soft material settling without a sound.
"Oh! Won't you look at that?" exclaimed a voice inside Loraleen's head. "Miss. Ollerton! I had lost hope on getting the pleasure of sorting you several years ago!"
Loraleen was taken aback by the exuberance in his tone but held her surprise down and marched on.
"We should never give up hope, should we?" teased the brunette.
The hat let out a chuckle.
"True, true, true, but let's get down to business," replied the hat. "Where shall we place you?"
A humming sound filled Loraleen's head, presumably the hat was perusing her memories striving for the perfect fit. Or if her suspicions were correct, for the highest match.
"Very astute, very astute. You would do wonderfully in Slytherin, seems like you have a penchant for perfectionism. Subtle yet driven, definitely traits of the house of snakes" his humming kept going, undecided. "You're hard working and honest yet your loyalty is conditional, it is quickly broken if you feel slighted. No, no, Hufflepuff is not it. Your wariness of manipulators points to Gryffindor, so does your strong moral center and passionate soul, you are willing to own your mistakes which is also a lion trait."
"Shall we analyze my Ravenclaw tendencies while we are at it?" Suggested Loraleen with amusement.
"Well, my dear Miss. Ollerton, being sassy is definitely one of them. You do exhibit a high level of intelligence and creativity, but your desire of learning is born out of duty not for the sake of knowing. Where, where, where..."
Outside their little world, the hall had started to whisper, minute after minute had gone by without so much as a flicker from either the girl or the hat. In the Gryffindor table a group of 6th years conversed animatedly, repeatedly being shushed by an exasperated read-head much to the formers delight.
"Can't you stay quiet Potter? Or is it too much to ask for you to show some respect?" snapped the fiery red-head, hair swishing behind her as she turned to face the laughing boy.
"You hurt me Lily Flower!" exclaimed the aforementioned boy laying his open palm on top of his heart. "I'd never aim to be anything but respectful towards our future classmates."
Lily Evans, 6th year prefect and student extraordinaire huffed at the declaration, clearly in disagreement but holding her thoughts to herself.
"In fact, I-."
"Gryffindor!" Interjected the hat, cutting Potter's sentence in half.
Gryffindor House cheered as Loraleen felt the hat being lifted from her head and with a satisfied smirk she walked confidently to her table. Determined to have dinner with people her own age she skipped the first years at the front and kept going until she reached a cheerful group that seemed more or less what she would expect the sixth years to look like.
Loraleen addressed the group and motioned to a vacant spot between a raven-haired boy who looked mildly familiar and a smiling girl.
"Do you mind if I-."
"Not at all!" exclaimed the raven-haired boy not letting Loraleen finish her question. "However, you must know, I am a free soul, our relationship must be strictly physical."
Loraleen arched an eyebrow at his lewd smirk, unimpressed. She looked him up and down, assessing him without qualms. He had clear, porcelain white skin and shining, shoulder-length black hair that seemed to fall effortlessly around his head. His eyes were a dark oxford grey color, unnervingly familiar, and his features and posture had an aristocratic air that screamed Pure-Blood raising from afar. Loraleen wondered if this was the guy the younger girl had been advised to stay away from and considered how to respond.
Going for her sassy side, as the hat had so kindly pointed out, she replied with seriousness, "It's a good thing we've clarified the nature of our future relationship this early on."
Her lack of outrage at his blatant proposition caused the group to stare at her in surprise.
She smiled flirtingly and added, "In fact," said the witch as she moved closer. "It gives me the right to take corrective measures."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth Loraleen smacked the back of his head, drawing back from him and wiping the flirting look from her face, replacing it with one of self-satisfaction.
"What was that for?!" exclaimed the boy, a frown marring his features.
"Whatever do you mean? You just told me our relationship was meant to physical, isn't this physical enough for you?"
All of them could tell she was playing coy, regardless of the innocent tone she used.
"Not the physical I implied, woman!" he exclaimed with an amused smile on his lips as he rubbed his head.
"Must be more specific in the future then," concluded Loraleen. "In any case, do you mind if I sit?" asked the girl, addressing the group once again.
"Be our guest," said the one with glasses. "Anyone who is immune to Pads charms is welcome to stick around."
Loraleen sat, simultaneously taking her cloak off and laying it across her lap as she replied, "Don't let your fangirls hear you say that, your fan club might become a disinterested club if they learn that ignoring your flirting is the key to gain your company."
"For that to happen they would need to have a fan club," huffed the read head sitting further down the table.
Loraleen eyed the group of girls sitting at the front, who did not seem to have anything else to do but to lovingly stare at the boys sitting around her and wondered if the red head was obvious to the stares or simply in denial.
"Oh, but we do, Evans. Must be quite popular in fact if Ollerton has already heard about it," said the boy. "But don't you concern yourself, my heart is only yours to hold."
"Shame I won't be doing any holding," replied Evans.
"Don't get so cocky," intervened Loraleen. "I had the pleasure of sharing a boat with two first years who had been advised to stay as far away as they could from some troublesome Gryffindors, which I suspect meant this group. Apparently, the girl's older sister is not particularly fond of your merry band."
"What can I say?" said the one with grey eyes as his arm surrounded Loraleen's shoulders, pulling her close to him. "Rejection by this gorgeous specimen is not taken well by everyone."
Loraleen rolled her eyes, ignoring the fact that they seemed rather unbothered by the fact someone had felt compelled to warn their younger siblings away from them, action the witch suspected, had nothing to do with their flirting.
"What's your name anyway?"
"Darling, you are in the presence of the one and only Sirius Black," replied the boy next to her.
"Black?" Loraleen observed him with a critical eye, his slightly wavy black hair, same grey eyes she had considered unique in the train, sharp features and confident air. "Are you Regulus' brother?"
Black physically withdrew, his arm retreating from her shoulders.
"You know my brother?"
His tone had lost its mirth and now it held a somewhat pained, somewhat angry undertone.
"I met him in the train." Contemplating the pros and cons she added, "Charming guy."
Black huffed and Loraleen could not help but notice how different their personalities were, as well as their interactions with strangers. One seemed to embrace Pure-blood culture and etiquette to introduce himself while the other seemed to go out of his way to avoid it.
"Ignore him, they have a complicated relationship." The sandy brown-haired boy explained. Black seemed to be holding himself back from elaborating on that statement. Or maybe it was on hers, she wasn't sure. "I am Remus Lupin, by the way."
Lupin smiled warmly at her, something about him making her feel immediately comfortable. His hair fell on top of his green eyes, slightly hiding them from view. Old scars littered his face, visible against his pale skin, yet his soft features made it pretty much impossible to think of him as anything but a friendly guy. She smiled back, turning her attention to the one with glasses across her, waiting for an introduction.
At the lack of words, Lupin sighed and opened his mouth.
"This is James Potter, the one to his left is Peter Pettigrew and as you can see, this lot has zero manners."
The one introduced as James Potter had, what Loraleen was starting to suspect was incredibly common, jet-black hair. Behind his round glasses, his hazel eyes seemed full of unspent energy, darting around the members of the table. He also possessed what her grandfather would define as proper Chaser's build and so she wondered if the was a Quidditch player. Next to him, Peter Pettigrew, lacked the charming vibe the other tree oozed. He seemed nice yet less confident, his mousy brown hair was tucked back, brown eyes following the conversation but not participating himself. He had a rounder build and Loraleen would bet anything he was shorter in height than his companions, but nonetheless taller than her.
"Oi!" Potter's exclamation drew her focus back to the conversation. "We have manners, in fact we are the most gentlemanly gentleman you will ever meet!" added Potter in mock outrage.
"That doesn't sound promising at all," murmured Loraleen.
The girl next to her laughed at her remark and introduced herself, "Marlene McKinnon, the fiery red-head is Lily Evans. We'll be sharing the sixth year dorm with you and another sixth year."
Lily Evans rolled her eyes as she heard the way she was being introduced but did not complain, probably used to it considering her hair was in fact, a vibrant shade of red. However, her red hair was not what caught Loraleen's attention. It was her lively green doe eyes what made her do a double take. Marlene also had red hair, but hers was a muted shade, probably best described as reddish brown and instead of being straight, like Evans was, hers was slightly wavy at the ends. Her eyes were a chocolaty color with golden specs framed by long lashes. She seemed to be more athletic, yet Loraleen could not define whether or not she was into Quidditch.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," said the witch addressing them all. As an afterthought she added her name at the end, meant as her formal introduction.
After Professor McGonagall removed the stool and everyone got settled, the wizard with the white beard and half-mood spectacles rose from the high table, making everyone quiet with a mere gesture.
"That's Albus Dumbledore," whispered Marlene next to her. "He is the headmaster."
Loraleen nodded, recognizing the name, her parents had mentioned him before, sometimes agreeing with something he did and sometimes critiquing his actions. He was the kind of wizard who could inspire both reactions.
Dumbledore spread his arms wide and said, "Welcome, to those who will walk these halls for the first time and to those who will once more. Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
Loraleen arched an eyebrow as clapping and cheering filled the hall at the wizard's choice of words, momentarily making her wonder at the sanity of the Headmaster and her peers. As the wizard sat back down the table in front of her filled with food, every previously empty inch of space filled with platers to everyone's delight.
The start of term feast had officially begun.