Read the disclaimer at the very beginning and Chapter 5: Let the Journey Begin to get up to speed.
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Chapter 6: Sorting and Ensnaring
September 1st (Evening)
The inside of the front hall was amazing in Margaret's opinion. The whole castle was tall; she couldn't even see the ceiling. She was staring straight up and all she could see were staircases. Hundreds of long staircases. And some of them were moving. On their own! If she hadn't been expecting more magical surprises she would have gasped in shock, like so many other students were doing. All along the walls, near the staircases and all around the atrium, were portraits. Some were of wizards and some were of witches. Some smiled some scowled. And most of them were moving around craning their two-dimensional necks around to stare at the new students. They were whispering and pointing and waving.
Morgan stood too close to her. She hadn't left Margaret's side since the first years had journeyed to the boats, with the giant man, Professor Hagrid. In the front hall, just on the other side of the huge double doors, and awaiting further instructions the first years huddled together in a mass, trying to seem inconspicuous to a few of the more menacing looking portraits, who were glaring in their direction. Because the groups of students were so closely packed together, it felt as if Morgan was cemented to Margaret's elbow. It wasn't as if Margaret was going to disappear, though with as annoying as having Morgan so near to her, she was considering giving apparating a try.
As most of the first years were keeping a wary eye on the painted scenes, they didn't here the low, tinny voice that sounded above them.
"Ooooo! Ickle Firsties."
The owner of the voice was an oddly shaped floating man. His head looked like a pale pastel blue balloon. He wore a formal suit of a coat tails and trousers. Loafers adorned his feet. Apart from his head, he could have looked almost normal. That was if his suit hadn't been a horrible shade of puce and lilac.
"There is so many this year. Peevsie counts them; one- two- three- four."
The man was bobbing up and down with glee. He grinned like a maniac down at them. When he reached the number five, he hurled handfuls of brown mush at the crowd. One glob of goo landed with a resounding slap onto the upturned face of a round blonde boy. Every head turned to look at him. Then in a split second, everyone scrambled away from him, scattering all over the foyer.
James and Braden pushed the twins over by a suit of armor. They were out of the line of 'Peevsie's' fire, for the moment. The floating man was cackling as he launched a series of brown projectiles. The purple and puce suited poltergeist turned to face a small group of girls, who had sought refuge in a dark corner. Peevsie took up a hefty load of brown slime and started to wind up, but paused at the sound of a booming thunderous voice.
"PEEVES! OUT! NOW!"
This voice was cold and alarming. The man who had shouted looked ghostly. He was tall (certainly not as tall as the giant Hagrid) and thin. He stood high above the ground level and glared over at the levitated prankster. He looked vampiric, dressed in a long black robe with his dark hair and eyes and his pale skin.
Peeves, who had stilled the instant the thin man had bellowed, glared at the man in response and flung a handful of goop into the long dark hair of an Asian girl, before he zoomed off in a whirlwind. No one moved. What if the Peeves man came back? No one wanted to tempt him back by even breathing too loudly. But they all scrambled up the staircase when the sickly man barked out at them.
"Well! What are you waiting for? We're late!"
--
Standing a few stairs below the sickly looking man, Margaret was both pleased and annoyed to find that Morgan was still glued to her elbow. They stood in near the middle of the group with James and Braden in front of them and the shushing girl from Margaret's compartment to their immediate right. The seven students who had been victims of the Peeves had been pushed up to the very front and the tall thin man had waved his wand at them, cleaning them with a lick and flourish. They were practically shoved back into the crowd.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Snape. I will attempt to teach you Potions, whether or not you learn anything will rest solely on how functional your brains are." Not one bit of his face moved when he spoke. Professor Snape's voice was not at all parallel to him as a person. It was strong and deep, resounding throughout the wide open spaces of the atrium, and he didn't look particularly strong or emotional, in fact if a word had to be given to describe Professor Snape, it would be disturbing.
He dressed in all black and it only highlighted his pale complexion. His sallow skin was pulled tightly over his face making him look like oiled leather. His hair was jet black and was grown to just an inch from his shoulders, it too was greasy looking. Professor Snape had beady eyes that were so dark they appeared black and looked tiny in comparison to his aquiline hooked nose. He seemed positively evil.
"In a few moments, I will lead you through these doors," he made an unnecessary gesture behind him. "Once in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. They are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor," he curled his thin lips in disgust, before giving the slightest hint of a smile at, "and Slytherin".
Professor Snape glared at them all, before turning on his heel and darting between the two doors. He shut them with an ominous thud. James and Braden exchanged a look with arching eyebrows. To Morgan the look stated clearly that Slytherin was not a desired place to be sorted. It sounded awful to her. And so did Professor Snape. He was all doom and gloom, not fun in the sun. So, if she had a choice, she would not be taking Potions. Anything to not have to be around Professor Snape.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Professor Snape returned, his long black robes sailing behind him. Every one of the first years stood taller, immediately. Professor Snape was one of those no nonsense people, Morgan could tell. She had a lot of experience with no nonsense people. Margaret was one.
"They're ready for you now." Snape said coldly. He turned his back to them, once more and laid his two narrow hands flat along the fronts of the doors and gave them a great shove, knocking them open.
Beyond the doors, from where the twins stood, they could see the Great Hall. It was large room, smaller than the front hall, but just as magnificent. It was a glowing amber color, because it was lighted by hundreds of floating candles. There was a walkway down the center of the room and on either side of it there were identical seas of black robes, wrapped around students. And at the far end of the hall, a high table was stationed.
--
Professor Snape stalked forward. And the mass of first years followed. The first thing Margaret noticed was the ceiling. When she had looked up at it, wanting to see the famous sight, she didn't see it at first. The ceiling was missing. Well, it wasn't really. The sky was in its place. The stars had turned brighter in the black sky. Dark bluish gray clouds were moving in, tiny little wisps of fluff that they were.
Beside her, Morgan brushed her shoulder with her own. Her twin looked up to see the high rafters and found herself looking up at the night's sky instead.
"Whoa," Morgan breathed. "That. Is. So. Cool."
Margaret rolled her eyes at the understatement. It was more than just cool. It was beautiful, it was magic.
Professor Snape stopped suddenly. No one bumped into him, as they had Professor Hagrid. It would be an action most regrettable, Margaret was sure. Professor Snape ordered the first years into a line, backs to the high table and facing the great mass of older students.
There was an old, wooden stool positioned in front of them and a ratty old hat was sitting on top of it. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at it, waiting. Professor Snape stood off to the side; a long scroll was clutched tight in his fist. He, too, was staring over at the hat.
There was a great resounding rip and the dusty old hat began to sing.
It was singing! The hat was singing! How on Earth a hat could sing, Morgan wondered. Well, duh! Magic. But it was still amazing. The tear that had been mended near the brim had become the mouth. And the leather-like folds near the point were now like dark eyes. Morgan was snapped out of the show by the thunderous applause coming from every direction.
Hogwarts School of Magic
Has tales both sweet and tragic.
Not long ago,
In these very halls,
All within were divided.
But I do hope
You all have learned,
We are better off united.
Gryffindors are brave and valiant
And cannot bear to hide it.
Slytherins are determined and sly
And mysterious too, oh my.
Honorable and devoted are those,
The ones that Hufflepuff chose.
Those who were sharp and clever
Ravenclaw did prefer.
Friends you can find in each.
Lines or boundaries you can breach.
Don't hesitate.
Please do make haste.
For troubled times
Are brewing.
And making enemies
Could be your undoing.
Just sit down.
Wear me as a crown.
Let me meddle in your mind.
I promise to be kind.
I know your mind and your heart.
Let the ceremony start.
Morgan had been so bewitched by the animated clothing that she heard absolutely nothing of the song. Margaret, however, did. She leaned over towards Morgan and whispered, "Did you ever think you'd get advice from a hat?" Morgan had no idea what Margaret had meant but she shook her head anyway.
Professor Snape cleared his throat and glared menacingly out into the crowd until every person had stopped clapping and was sitting quietly. He spoke, even more loudly and sternly than he had out on the staircase.
"You will now be sorted. When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and I will put the Sorting Hat on your head. When it announces your House, go and sit at the appropriate table."
He might as well have said, "Shove off," it would have sounded exactly the same.
The first years were all getting nervous. The Sorting Hat would chose where they would go. Was it a test? What if the hat didn't fit? What if it was too small? Too big? Would they fail? Would they not be sorted? Would they be sent home, without learning any magic?
"Anderson, Aeryn." Professor Snape declared. A blonde pigtailed girl jumped at the sound of her name. She was eight people away from Morgan. The whole line of students leaned forward and stared at the girl. All of them gave her frightened looks of sympathy. It was tough luck that, going first.
Aeryn Anderson's face was turning red. She started forward and nearly tripped. Beside Morgan, Margaret sucked in a breath.
Aeryn pulled herself up onto the stool. All the first years could tell she was shaking. And though they denied, they would be shaking too, come their turns. Professor Snape approached from Aeryn's left and lifted the Sorting Hat up to place it on her head.
Every student in the room watched Aeryn with bated breath. Aeryn, half her head disappearing into the hat, was sitting ramrod straight. Her pale blue eyes darted back and forth rapidly and every second or so her head would twitch. Nearly a full minute of silence passed before the hat screamed out, "SLYTHERIN."
The table to the far right burst into cheers and whooping. Aeryn hopped off the stool and bounded over towards her new housemates. Even Professor Snape gave that hint of a smile again, before glaring down at the scroll in front of him.
"Andes, Franklin."
This time it was a boy. He had long black hair and tanned skin. He had dark, little eyes, too. He was on the short side. And when he tried to hoist himself up on the stool, it took him a few tries.
Professor Snape set the Sorting Hat on Franklin's head. Like, Aeryn, Franklin's head moved around a lot as he sat on the stool. In half the time it took to sort Aeryn, the Sorting bellowed, "RAVENCLAW." This time the second table from the left erupted in enthusiasm. Franklin ran off to join them. Professor Snape allowed very little time for celebration before moving on to the next name.
--
Morgan couldn't be bothered with paying attention to everyone as they were sorted. She was sure they were only on the M's. She hoped. Behind her, the professors were seated.
She spotted Hagrid first. He was on the right side of the table, taking up more than twice the amount of space as anyone else. Morgan liked Hagrid. She could tell that they would friends no matter what. He knew about all magical creatures. So, he would know about dragons. Wouldn't he? He had to.
Hagrid must have felt Morgan staring at him, because he turned from watching the ceremony to look at her. Morgan smiled over at Hagrid and gave a brief wave, which the giant man returned.
Next to Hagrid, on his left, sat a man with black hair and matching eyebrows. His hair was incredibly messy and sat on his head in curved spikes, like horns. Even though he was sitting, Morgan could tell he was shorter than Professor Snape. He wasn't nearly as thin, though. He wore round, black framed glasses and dark emerald robes. The robes matched his eyes nearly perfectly. The man appeared bored. He was hunched over the table, leaning to the side; half of his face was smushed into his hand. His eyes were opened, but severely glazed over. Morgan knew, without a doubt, that the green eyed, black haired man was James' father; Mr. Harry Potter.
On Hagrid's right, sat a shabbily dressed man, followed by three ladies. The man had short shaggy, sandy colored hair and a stubbly beard. He had warm, golden brown eyes and a curved tilt to his mouth. He looked like he had been attacked this morning and hadn't bothered to do anything about it, now.
The lady closest to Hagrid and the shabby wizard wore long, shimmering violet colored robes. She was the only black professor. She had a long, lean face, and lots of kinkily curled black hair, sprouting from underneath her tall witch's hat.
Beside her sat a fierce looking witch, with a white and gray streaked pixie cut. Her nose was small and skinny, like her mouth. She didn't wear a hat and her robes clung to her, like a second skin. They weren't revealing they looked like they would function as a skydiving suit; wind resistant.
The last lady at this side of the table wore robes of a deep celestial blue and they were dotted with tiny yellowish white stars. Looking closely, Morgan could make out the constellation Orion on the woman's side. She had a round, pale face, like she didn't get enough sunlight, much like Professor Snape. Morgan couldn't really see any of her features as she was staring down at what looked like a chart of some sort. She was tracing lines with a long finger, and shaking her head every so often.
On Harry Potter's left, a tall, olive skinned man, sat upright. He had long black hair and round gray eyes. He was grinning like a mad man, beaming out over the table at all the students. His robes were a plain black, expensive; Morgan was sure, but plain. Like the shabby man, it appeared he hadn't shaved in a day or so. Whatever he taught, Morgan knew she would like. This was nearly bursting with enthusiasm and fun, and there was something else. It was in his grin. It was an ecstatic grin. It was a slightly mischievous grin, the same Morgan had whenever she had a plan to trick an opponent out on the football pitch.
The most severe looking woman Morgan had ever laid her large brown eyes on sat at the center position of the table. Her hair, which was completely gray, was pulled back into a tight unforgiving bun. She wore square spectacles, perched on the edge of her nose. She was tight lipped and rigid and shooting the grinning man glares everyone once in a while.
Next to the angry woman, was an empty chair, obviously awaiting Professor Snape.
Then there was a young woman. She had yellow blonde hair cut down to her chin. Big blue eyes stared out from behind thick blond lashes. She was watching the sorting ceremony with rapt attention. A small smile tugged the edges of her lips whenever Professor Snape announced another name. The smile, as small as it was, moved the tiny little beauty mark she had over her lip on the right side of her face.
Two men came next. They could have been brothers, Morgan thought. But there were subtle differences among all their similarities. They were both blonde with light colored eyes. They were within an inch of each other and athletically built. But the one closest to the blonde woman had shorter hair and softer features. The other had a pointy face, almost ferret like.
The last two professors at the table were women. The first was a tall, gangly lady. She had shaved her hair completely off. She had silver wire framed glasses and clear blue eyes beneath them. Her robes were brown, with silver clasps. She also wore long dangling earrings, which looked suspiciously like screwdrivers.
The last woman was a plump woman, round and rosy. She had curly gray hair beneath her hat and her hands were clasped around her middle. She wore forest colored robes. If Morgan wasn't mistaken, she appeared to be asleep, a root of some sort clutched in her hand.
--
"Potter, James."
Morgan whipped around to face forwards again. Nearly every drooping head shot up and eyes opened wide. Those sitting near the back of the room stood up in their seats or craned their necks in order to see.
Beside her, James stepped calmly forward. He approached the stool and slid up onto it. His feet were far off the ground and his brown eyes became wide with anticipation as Professor Snape held the Sorting Hat high above his head.
He lowered the hat slowly, as if in slow motion. When the very brim of the hat touched the edges of James' hair the hat pulled its rim upwards and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR".
The table that was obviously Gryffindor began screaming and jumping up and down. They were clapping and stomping. Chants of "We've got Potter" rang out.
Behind the six remaining first years, Mr. Harry Potter was applauding politely, all the while adopting the maniacal grin of the man beside him.
--
"Weasley, Braden."
For the second time that evening, the Great Hall went silent. Margaret knew that everyone was anxious to see where Braden went, because he was the son of two extremely famous people, as was James. Margaret knew that Braden's older sister and older cousins must have gotten the same awe-inspiring treatment as they were sorted.
Braden steadied himself with a deep breath before he went forward. When Braden sat on the stool, his feet were nearly brushing the ground, unlike every other first year's. Professor Snape dropped the hat onto Braden's head. Braden sat perfectly still for a few moments, then he relaxed and the hat bellowed out, "GRYFINDOR".
The shouting and applauding was not as loud or prolonged as it was for James, but even still it lasted for a great while. Professor Snape was quite unsuccessful in reining in the celebration. The Gryffindors had received fewer new students than any other house, and now that they had both James Potter and Braden Weasley, they were celebrating as if they had been the only house to have any new students.
Beside her, Morgan reached over the tiny space between them and grasped her hand.
"It's just us, now," Morgan whispered to her.
Margaret looked around. And sure enough they were the last of the first years to be sorted. Margaret had felt fine all day, but with the realization that she would soon be sorted, with everyone watching her. She felt sick. Without meaning to, she squeezed Morgan's hand. She was sweating now, breathing hard and fast, her stomach ached terribly.
"Wood, Margaret."
--
Margaret wasn't moving. The grips she had on Morgan's hand tightened. Morgan looked over at Margaret. Her twin was obviously nervous; something Morgan hadn't been a witness too since the first day of grammar school.
Professor Snape cleared his throat and glared at Morgan with a steely glint to his eye. It wasn't as if it was Morgan's fault that Margaret was acting like a loon. She tried to pry Morgan's fingers from her own. They might as well have been glued together.
"Morgan. Let go of me. It's your turn." Morgan hissed. "Don't be such a baby."
It wasn't perhaps the best thing to say, or the right time, but it certainly got Margaret moving. She stumbled her way forward and sat up on the stool. Professor Snape wasted no time and immediately plonked the hat on Margaret's wavy brown hair.
Seeing Margaret sweat in fear, made Morgan feel awful. She knew it had half to do with their twin empathy and shared experiences, but the other half had to do with what she had said. Morgan wasn't the apologetic type, but it didn't mean she didn't feel guilty for the things she said to her sister sometimes. It was especially hard to deal with when Margaret took what Morgan said to heart, even if she didn't mean for her to. And lately, Morgan had been saying quite a bit of things she didn't mean; the 'baby' comment was the least of it.
A shout of "GRYFINDOR", startled Morgan from her reverie.
When the applause died down and the Gryffindors were seated, Morgan was already by the Sorting Hat's stool.
"Wood, Morgan."
Professor Snape glanced over to where he last saw Morgan, an attempt to send a silent warning that she had better hurry it along. He looked around in wonderment, before he found her already sitting on the stool. He frowned down at her half smile. She was a cheeky little kid, wasn't she?
The Sorting Hat fell over her head and half hid her eyes. She could now look out at the other students without worry of them knowing she was watching them. Well, that was the plan, anyway. The Sorting Hat had other ideas.
Ahh, yes, your sister mentioned you. Let me see. Where to put Morgan Wood?
Morgan wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. Wouldn't she be with Margaret? But the Sorting Hat sounded as if it wasn't sure she would be with her sister.
You are smart, yes. Not quite as much as others, but above average. And you have cunning and drive, but Slytherin isn't for you.
Morgan was glad for that. She shot a quick glance to the Slytherin table. They looked like a grumpy evil sort, Professor Snape's cup of tea. And she was a little miffed that the hat had said her intelligence was only 'above average'. It was true, but she didn't need a hat to point it out to her.
You have a fierce loyalty to offer, but you tend to demand something in return. Oh, but what's this. A very strong willed determination to do what's right. Adventurous, mischievous, even. I can tell that you, Morgan Wood, would go to any lengths to save those in great need of it. There is only one place to put you. "GRYFFINDOR!"
Morgan hopped off the stool, snatched the hat off, and shoved it into Professor Snape's waiting hands. She was far too excited to see Snape's scowl or listen to the cheering and applauding of her new housemates. She slid into a seat, between Braden and a boy she didn't know and across from James, Margaret, and two new girls who had been sorted with the As and Bs.
The severe looking woman at the center of the high table stood up as Professor Snape sat down. The chattering and whispering tapered off as the woman got everyone's attention.
"I'd like to take this time to welcome our new students to Hogwarts. As they are new, I want for all our returning students, to remind them of our school rules. Here is the first reminder for you all." The woman took a deep breath, signaling that the list of rules was probably very long.
"The castle is your home and you should treat it as such. It is also your school, so you are expected to go to classes prepared for your lessons with homework completed. Excellence in any number of things will earn you house points, while disobedience and disruptiveness will lose you house points. At the end of the school year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup."
"The forest at the edge of the grounds is strictly forbidden to all students unless accompanied by a professor for a school lesson. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch," The woman raised her hand towards the back of the room. An old, scraggly man with a permanent grimace on his face stood up. A fluffy, equally scraggly gold and brown cat wound itself around Mr. Filch's legs. "has graciously extended the list of forbidden items to include the thirteen new products of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes and the six from Zonko's. This, of course, means that the list now contains one thousand and eleven items. The complete list can be viewed outside Mr. Filch's office."
The woman went on for quite a while about the rules. Before she got to the part that everyone was waiting for.
"Tuck in."
The food materialized on the tables in heaping mounds. There were sizzling plates of lamb chops and pork chops, beef casserole, roast beef, roasted chicken. Steaming dishes of shepherd's pie, boiled potatoes, peas, and carrots lined the far side of the table, in front of Margaret and James. Saucers of butter were spread out all down the table, as were pitchers of gravy. Towers of ice cream nearly toppled in their bowls and castles made of éclairs and tarts were littered throughout.
--
Morgan had never felt so full in her life. She doubted very much that she could make it up to the dorms tonight. But she was trying. At the moment the eight Gryffindor first years were following Braden and James' prefect cousin, Francine Weasley, up to Gryffindor Tower.
It was taking longer than Frankie expected as every staircase they encountered had moved off course, causing the troupe to have to back track over and over again.
When they did reach the entrance, Frankie stopped them all by holding out an arm, catching Braden and a boy Morgan hadn't been introduced to, in the stomachs. Frankie was waiting for something. The portrait of a very large lady was gazing out at them all, speculatively. She looked up at Frankie and asked, "Password?"
The prefect turned on the first years, her eyes hardened into daggers.
"I'm going to tell the fat lady the password, which you would do well to remember. If I find out that any one of you has told the password to any other student not in Gryffindor, you'll regret it," Frankie told them, her voice dripping with malice.
"What-what are you going to do," one of the boys asked. His voice wavered and his eyes were wide.
"First, I'm going to change the password so fast, it'll give you whiplash. Then, if that doesn't send you to the hospital wing for a week, I'm going to staple your lips shut, to ensure that you won't ever tell the password to anyone."
The wide eyed, tawny haired boy gulped and raised a hand to his throat. Frankie spun around and told the Fat Lady, "Pididdle". There was a silent pause, before the Fat Lady's portrait swung open to reveal a slight incline.
Frankie walked in first and the new students followed.
The room they now stood in was a huge circle. Near the windows on the right, six four person tables were situated, with red cushioned high-back chairs. The back wall, which had another staircase, was covered numerous moving photographs of Gryffindor alumni. The wall to the left had an enormous fireplace surrounded by golden arm chairs and crimson loveseats. The circular rug in the center of the room was braided with cords of burgundy, gold, and black. It stretched to four of the six tables by the window and nearly to the hearth, where a roaring fire burned.
Frankie turned on the eight of them once more, causing them all to shrink back in terror. "Right, well, boys your dorm is up the stairs and to the left; girls, it's the same on your right. Breakfast begins at seven-thirty. Don't be late; you'll want your class schedule. Have a good night."
Frankie flounced herself up the stairs and disappeared into the Girls' side of the dormitory.
A black haired boy turned to Braden and James, "Is she always like that?"
Braden and James exchanged a look.
"Ever since she hit thirteen," Braden answered, "Cassie's pretty much the same way".
--
Upstairs, the circular room, the girls would sleep in contained four beds, stationed around a potbelly stove. Each had gold embroidered crimson hangings that could be pulled around to close off each bed from the rest of the room.
Their Hogwarts trunks had been brought up and placed at the foot of the beds. Margaret's trunk was nearest to the door on the left. Between Margaret's bed and the exit was another door, which when opened, revealed the bathroom.
Morgan's bed was second from the right. A single bed separated Morgan from her twin. Not that she minded or anything. She just wasn't going to be the one to make a fuss about it. No siree. Not Morgan Wood. No way.
The other two girls had gone to their beds and had begun to retrieve their bedding and personal items. The first girl, with a bed across from Margaret's, nearest the exit, was tall and willowy. She had coffee au lait colored skin and long straight black hair. Her eyes were large, round, framed by thick black lashes and were an eerily dark brown, nearly black.
"Disidora Berkeley." The girl had introduced herself as, over dinner. She had told them all to call her 'Disi' (Dizzy). The other girl had an odd name too. Elysia Andrews.
Elysia was not tall or willowy. She didn't have black eyes. She didn't have brown curls like the twins either. She was shorter than the twins, rounder too, like James. Her hair was blonde, sunshine yellow. It probably hadn't ever been cut before. It reached well beyond her bottom, but Elysia had explained that she hardly ever wore down. Not even when she slept. Her eyes were a blue, like the pictures taken of the bottom of the ocean.
Margaret arrived at Morgan's side and together they opened Morgan's trunk and removed their individual bedding. Margaret's bedding consisted of pastel purples and greens, with frills on the edges. Morgan's consisted of royal blues and flannels.
After struggling to make their beds, Morgan ventured over to Margaret and her trunk. Opening, that one, the twins began removing Morgan's uniforms and casual clothes, pile by pile.
Then, all four of the girls took turns using the bathroom and changing into their pajamas. After everyone's hair was combed, teeth were brushed, showers were had, and pajamas were donned, the girls said good night and blew out the candles that lit the room.
None of them were awake to see the house elves pop in. Nor did they hear their trunks opening. Nor did they witness the creatures magicking their school ties to have crimson and gold stripes, or the similar magic placed on the hems of their skirts and sweaters. And certainly none of them noticed that their black robes now had the Gryffindor crest emblazoned below the shoulder above their hearts.
--
At breakfast the morning of the first day of classes, Morgan found herself sitting with the boys. Elysia and Disi sat with Margaret. The two boys Morgan hadn't been properly introduced to the night before were named Elliot Kluckhorn and Melvinius Haines the Third.
Elliot was the tawny haired boy who had been most frightened by Frankie the Enforcer (as the first years would be prone to her later in the year). He was just as tall as Morgan. And from the way he spoke in casual conversation, he was probably just as smart Margaret.
Melvinius had black hair that curled under his ears and hazel colored eyes buried under thick eyebrows. He thought he was the greatest thing since the Firebolt series (according to Braden, who didn't seem to think the world of Mr. Haines the third).
Breakfast was a feast only slightly smaller than dinner last night. Plump sausages and scrambled eggs made their way onto Morgan's plate. Margaret managed to place two slices of toast on the side when she wasn't looking.
--
This is how it would be for the next few years. Morgan would sit with the boys during meals and for most of their classes. She would run around outside near the Quidditch pitch and down by the lake with James and Braden. She would finish her homework with them, find odd moments in the hallways to talk Quidditch, they would sit near the common room ire and play Gobstones or Chess. And Margaret would constantly worry when Morgan would come back to the dorm late from exploring the couples and the grounds with her new friends. Only then or in the early morning would Morgan sit down to discuss what to write in the weekly letters home with Margaret. Every once in a while she would inquire about the days of Elysia and Disi to be polite.
--
Professor Snape glided over to the Gryffindor first years from the Ravenclaw table. Morgan was not surprised to note the sneer seemed to be ready so early in the morning. He was holding several stacks of parchment charts.
Melvinius was sitting completely erect, knowing that Snape was standing directly behind him. Professor Snape gave a creepy impish smile before allowing on large stack to drop in front of Melvinius' empty place setting, causing the brunette to jump.
"The first year schedules are on top, followed by the second. Individual schedules for third through seventh year are in alphabetical order. Don't be late."
Snape glided away and left Melvinius to fend for himself as all the rest of the Gryffindors stampeded toward him to get there itineraries.
--
The Charms Classroom was on the third floor. There were two staggered benches on either side of the room. Cathedral windows were stationed opposite the entry way, behind the Professor's desk.
Margaret and Elliot found sat front row center of the left side of the room. Elysia and Disidora sat with Melvinius in the front row, but all the way to the very end, closest to the door. And Morgan sat between Braden and James behind Margaret in the second tier.
They were sharing this class with the nine students in Hufflepuff, all of whom sat on the right side of the room.
The Professor was the blonde haired, blue eyed woman who had sat next to Professor Snape for the better part of the evening. Today she was wearing deep purple colored robes and sipping a mug of steaming coffee. She leaned back against the front of her desk, and gazed out at them all.
"Good morning, all. I'm Professor Zaas." The woman paused, taking another quick sip from her mug and smiling into its rim.
James turned quickly to Morgan and Braden and mouthed, 'Professor's ass'? Braden snickered out loud.
Professor Zaas coughed, calling all the attention back to her. She set her mug on her desk and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I see some of you got the pun," she smiled.
"Is that your real name," Morgan asked.
"Yes. I blame my father for it," Professor Zaas was still smiling, including the class in the joke. "I would allow you all to call me Eleanor, but Headmistress McGonagall frowns down on that."
The students exchanged smiles with one another, enjoying the small dig at their strict Headmistress.
"Enough small talk," Professor Zaas exclaimed. "Let me see who's here and then we'll get down to the nitty gritty that is Charms."
The rest of the lesson was much the same way. Jokes and smiles and giggles. Professor Zaas even grinned in amusement when a Hufflepuff student by the name of Olivia Hotchkiss managed to turn her feather into a tropical drink, though she meant to make it levitate.
"It was a wonderful attempt Miss Hotchkiss, but try saying 'Wingardium Leviosa', not 'Mimosa'."
By the end of the period, almost all of the students had floated their feathers to ceiling. James and Morgan had at least gotten theirs to race four inches above the tabletop. When Professor Zaas had asked for them all to levitate their feathers at once, only Olivia had a hard time. This time she was saying 'Lepriosa', causing all the stands to fall off the center.
--
After Charms, the Gryffindors walked down to the first floor to meet the Ravenclaws for Defense Against the Dark Arts. This classroom had individual desks, four rows with five desks in each. The Professor, Professor Lupin, wasn't in the room yet.
Bookcases lined the walls on wither side of the door, and all along the rest of the room were tanks of tiny animals and jars of petrified specimens. A long, winding skeleton of something was hanging high above their heads. There were two staircases that led to a closed door, probably an office.
Once again, Margaret and Elliot sat in the front of the room. Melvinius sat behind Elliot, splitting up two of the three girls from Ravenclaw. James sat in between Braden and Morgan in the second row. Disi and Elysia sat in the fourth row as far from the front as they could manage. Behind Morgan, in the third row, sat the four Ravenclaw boys.
Professor Lupin walked into the room, calmly. He bounded to the front of the room and picked up a piece of parchment from his desk. He scanned the list, then the classroom, counting names and heads. Satisfied, he paced through the aisles, hands folded behind his back.
"In Defense Against the Dark Arts you will learn how to recognize hexes, curses, and other harmful spells. You will learn how to cast some of them, but only to help you recognize them. Mainly, you will learn how to protect yourself and others from danger. This class is to be taken very seriously because the threat of Dark Arts has been, is, and will be a constant in our lives."
He stood over to the far left of the room, leaning his back against the wall of windows, gazing solemnly out at them all.
"This class will not be entirely doom and gloom and knuckle whacking. I do promise that we will have some fun. Now, on your feet!"
Everyone shot up out of their seats. More than one chair fell over onto the ground, and their former occupants reached down immediately to pick them up.
"We'll start with a relatively simple charm that can be used as protection against almost every hex and curse. To cast it you simply draw a large circle with your wand and pull it towards you. At the same time of your conjuring, you must say 'Protego'. Once you have finished speaking it, as with most spells, you must think what it is you want the spell to do; protect."
The first years stood absolutely still, listening with rapt attention.
"I'll show you how first."
Professor Lupin moved to the front of his desk. He drew himself up to his full height and pulled his wand from his robe sleeve. He started his circle high, declared 'Protego' in a firm voice, and finished the spell by dragging the glowing blue orb towards him at wand point. The blue outline of the circle shimmered briefly before filling itself in completely so that it looked like a solid shield. Professor Lupin held his spell steady for a few moments, before allowing his wand hand to relax. The action allowed his protection to disappear.
"Now, let's move the desks, and let you try it."
There was a great scrambling in the room, as the first years started pushing desks and chairs to the sides of the room all at once.
--
After lunch, the first year Gryffindors found themselves downstairs in the dungeons for a double session of potions with the first year Slytherins. The students arrived earlier than their Professor, Snape, so they chose their own seats.
Unlike before, when the students separated themselves by houses (like in Charms) because they wanted to sit with members of the same house, this time they separated themselves because they didn't want to sit next to anyone of the opposite house.
There were ten tables that had places for two people each throughout the room. The eight new Gryffindors quickly found seats together. Braden sat with James. Elliot and Melvinius sat beside them. Morgan sat next to her sister in front of the boys. Disi and Elysia sat next to them.
The Slytherins sat as close to the front as they could manage. The Asian girl, who had been splattered with goo by Peeves the night before, sat next to girls with short brown hair and narrowed eyes. The brunette sat perfectly upright with her arms crossed on the table. She had terribly crooked teeth and tended to clench her lips together over them, tightly. Aeryn Anderson had taken out her pigtails and opted to wear her hair down, behind her ears. She sat next to another blonde. Aeryn's table mate had large round eyes and a tiny nose. She looked perfectly normal and nice, but everyone knew that you couldn't allow how nice a Slytherin looked sway you from the knowledge that they were all probably just waiting for a chance to take advantage of you.
None of the Slytherin boys had blonde hair. The two that sat on the other side of the twins both had brown hair. One of them was built like a house, short, large and square. His arms were thick and long. The other was the first's complete opposite. He was skinny as a pole, and taller than even Braden was. His nose was even long and skinny as was his face. The second pair looked much like the brunette girl. The black haired boy had his eyes narrowed and his lips, though not clenched, were set into a thin frown. His table mate, a short brunette boy, looked as if he'd rather be asleep than in class. He didn't frown nor did he look particularly friendly.
Pickled animal parts floated in glass jars all along the two side walls. The back wall, which had the door, had two tables without chairs for display items. And the front wall was partially hidden behind a giant black chalkboard. The other side had another display table and a wide teacher's desk. It was colder down in the dungeons than in any other part of the castle, and it was darker too, despite the numerous wall lanterns.
Professor Snape threw open the class door so forcefully, it buckled back after it hit the wall. He strode in quickly, taking long and precise steps. His long black robe billowed behind him, floating on its own wind. He used his wand to slam the door closed and to turn up the lanterns to shine brighter. When he reached the front of them room he spun on his heel, causing the entire first row to shrink back slightly.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke firmly, but softly. His narrowed angry gaze made every student extra careful to catch his every word under penalty of something awful. He managed to keep the class silent without ever having to ask for it. "As there is little foolish wand-waving in here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
No one spoke after Snape's speech at all. Not one word passed from the first year's lips for the two hour double Potions sessions. They took so many notes so fast that several students hands had started to blur before their eyes. They read pages and pages on how to properly use their equipment. By the end of the lesson, the Gryffindors were finding shapes on their ink stained hands or counting who had the most paper cuts.
They hoped the next day would be better, but none of them got their hopes up just in case it turned out to be worse.
AN:
Okay so this is Chapter 6. It's about time. I know, I know. From now on, they'll be no promises on when things will be posted. Just know that I'm not planning to put this story on hold at all.
Next time: Chapter 7: We hear from the Aurors and our bad guy. It most likely won't be anywhere near as long as this. Then it'll be back to the twins… the first flying lesson and the other classes as well as the first full confrontation between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Onto review responses.
Charmedbaby11: Here you go. Not as soon as it probably could have been. Keep Reading and Reviewing
Joe and Izzy: Planning and writing are getting easier. I hope you like this Chapter. Thanks for your review.