Before this installment, I would like to thank those of you who have reviewed and those of you who currently have my story on alert. It is a high compliment to a poor, first-time fan fiction author like myself and I do hope to find more reviews. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames . . . not so much.
Thank you.
Blackbird Fly
Three
Breakfast the next day saw Severus and Isolde sitting together, leaving the other Slytherins to puzzle over why he was sitting with her (as he usually sat on the outskirts of a small gang of seventh year boys) and why she was sitting with anyone. The conversation was shallow—discussing classes and such— until Dumbledore rose from his seat at the High table to stand at the podium.
"Students, if I could have your attention, I would like to make an announcement." The Hall gradually quieted, allowing Dumbledore to continue.
"Hogwarts has a new student! Miss Fermier, please come here."
The strange girl from the night before appeared at the doors to the Great Hall and began the long march to the stool next to the podium which Dumbledore had conjured for her.
"Professor McGonagall, the Sorting Hat, please." The witch rose and pulled a shrunken box from her robes. She waved her wand to bring it to its normal size and pulled the battered old Hat from it. She placed it on the girl's head, and the entire hall watched as a fierce mental battle ensued.
The girl twisted and turned in her seat, whispering something fierce to the Hat, which seemed to nod and frown, perhaps in confusion. It was easily the most curious Sorting any of the students had ever seen, not that Severus and Isolde were surprised. The Hat opened its brim, only to close it again when the girl whispered to him once more, shaking its tip in confusion. The battle between girl and sentient accessory could have gone on longer, but Professor McGonagall delicately cleared her throat, an obvious sign that the Sorting of one student had gone long enough; the Hat didn't seem to be paying attention, still embroiled in arguing with the girl over her House.
As if the Hat had read her mind rather than that of its current occupant, it came to a momentous decision.
"SLYTHERIN!" it bellowed, the girl flushed from the Sorting. Dumbledore removed the Hat and pointed her to the right table.
"I do hope," he said, addressing the Slytherin table, "that you will make your newest seventh-year welcome in your House. I understand that this is an unusual case, but I have faith in the good standing of Slytherin House."
And with that, he took his seat at the High table while the newest Hogwarts student tentatively approached her House table.
She went timidly and was hit with unfriendly glances from a few of the other girls; the tension and suspicion was creating a thick cloud of animosity around the table, giving outsiders around them a general feeling of discomfort and paranoia. Isolde and Severus exchanged a quick look before waving her over to the empty seats around them.
"Thanks," she said gratefully, sitting down and pulling a plate of pastries towards her.
"It's nothing. We found you last night and were hoping that you were alright," Isolde said, offering her a platter piled high with bacon and sausage. "Besides that, it's terrible coming into a new school."
"Yes," the girl agreed, "although it feels like I know Hogwarts already." She paused. "What's your name?"
"Isolde Chase," she replied, extending her hand. "And yours?"
"Helene Fermier." They shook hands, smiling, and Helene stared at Snape expectantly.
"Severus Snape," he said, scowling and offering his own hand.
Her brown eyes widened and she took his hand a bit more stiffly than she had Isolde's. "N-nice to meet you," she said, sounding a little choked.
Isolde tried to break the awkward moment, noticing her two companions' discomfort. "What are you taking, Helene?"
"Oh, erm . . . hang on," she said, digging through her bag. Severus leaned in, interested. Triumphantly, she pulled out her schedule and began reading. "I have Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, DADA, Potions and Ancient Runes."
"Well, Severus and I both have Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and DADA. I'll have Ancient Runes with you, but I don't have Arithmancy. I kept Divination and Care of Magical Creatures." Helene gave her a surprised look. "I'm good at it," Isolde replied defensively, "and the professor suspects I have Seer blood somewhere."
Helene and Severus both shook their heads, Severus rolling his eyes. "I have Arithmancy," he offered. "I can always take you there if you want."
"Thank you." She gave him a cautious smile, and he realized how pretty she was. He had noticed girls before (he was a teenage boy after all), but she was different. She was cute; even Isolde wasn't like that, she was just too unusual. Helene had wild hair that he wanted to touch and peachy skin that he wanted to caress and doe brown eyes he wanted to gaze into . . . Severus stopped the train of thought before he got too disgusted with himself for being so sappy.
Isolde stood up. "Time to go, kids; we'll be late for class otherwise."
She grinned as the two packed their bags, and the three left for Transfiguration, each reveling in the blooming friendship.
They were interrupted when Severus let out a quiet yelp. James Potter stood behind him, wand pointed at Severus's back. Isolde whipped out her own wand, quick as a flash, and sent a quick Tongue-Tying Hex at him.
"Potter," she snarled. "Attacking when your opponent's back is turned? That's low, even for you. Or maybe you just know that he'd kick your arse in fair combat."
Sirius Black stepped forward then. "That's unfair, Chase. He's done it just as often as James has."
"But you," she growled, indicating the Marauders gathered around James, "are four. He is one. Get over it, Black, and grow up." Her eyes were hard as she stared them down, fully immersed in the conflict, her mind screaming for battle. James sent her a pleading look, obviously begging her to undo the hex and set his foolish tongue free. A splash of red hair parted the sea of black robes forming around them.
Lily rushed forward, clinging to James's arm. "What the hell, Snape? What did you do this time?"
He ignored her, scowling. It was always his bloody fault, even when they were friends. How could she be so blind to the world around her and yet manage to manipulate him so easily?
"Ask Potter," Isolde drawled slowly, her voice dripping with sardonic amusement. Lily's eyes widened and she gripped her wand tightly, her knuckles white around the polished length of wood. She was a strong witch, that much was true, but she had the failing of impetuousness—a common flaw among Gryffindors.
As Isolde, Severus and Helene walked away, Lily raised her wand, lowering herself to the Marauders she had despised throughout most of her time in Hogwarts. Before she could shoot off a quick spell, the Hall rang with a sharp, "Expelliarmus!"
Helene Fermier was holding Lily's wand when the chaos calmed, a triumphant smirk marring her bubbly features. She casually tossed the wand back at the fuming Gryffindor as Severus watched, awe-struck.
Perhaps she would fit in with Slytherin House after all.