Chapter Three: An Icy Reception
Christophers mother applied to the ministry for a portkey to Bulgaria, and the following week saw them in Gregorovitch's wand shop. This shop was also was stacked high with wands on shelves, but was much less dusty. A young man was in charge of the shop and took Christophers measurements all while talking loudly in Bulgarian to himself. He directed Christopher to a particular shelf stacked high with 13-14 inch wands and indicated for him to try them out at his leisure.
Three shelves up and halfway along, Christopher finally hit on a wand that sent out rich purple, gold and red sparks into the air when he waved it.
"Well that wasn't too painful," sighed his much-relieved mother as she counted out 9 galleons in sickles and knuts to the man behind the counter.
Christopher was rather proud of his wand, but couldn't help noticing the similarities between it and his fathers wand. Not wanting to upset, he didn't mention this to his mother, but it gave him a nasty sense of foreboding. What if he was destined to become a dark wizard like his father?
His wand you see, was also made of Oak and Unicorn hair. It was in fact 13 and one quarter inches, so not entirely identical to his fathers. Christopher knew that the extra one quarter only meant that he was expected to grow a little taller than his father grew, so this wasn't much consolation to him.
During the next month his muggle primary school classes came to an end and he regretfully said goodbye to his friends for the last time. His mother promised him she would buy stamps so that he could stay in touch with his best friend Andrew. He was going to do this by first sending the letters by owl to her, and she would put the stamps on and post them on Charing Cross road where there was a box.
Christopher had made up a story for his muggle school friends about how he was being sent to a private school in Scotland. It wasn't really a lie, they just didn't know the details, that's all.
When September the first arrived, Christopher had all his supplies packed neatly into his trunk, and was looking forward to his first day at Hogwarts. His mother had now told him quite a bit about the four houses of Hogwarts, and he very much wanted to be sorted into her old house, Gryffindor, and had told her so the day before.
It was nearly nine in the morning, and Christopher had been up since the crack of dawn. Emmeline had left to go into Diagon alley on a message just after eight, and he was starting to get nervous that she wouldn't be back in time to get him to the train station by eleven.
Just as he started to panic however, he heard the shop door open and his mother rushed inside. She was carrying a twittering black owl with small and scattered white spots in a cage.
"I thought you might like a pet," she said by way of explanation passing him the owl.
Christopher grinned widely, as this was the best present she had ever brought him, besides his wand, although that was a requirement more than a present.
"Thanks!" he gasped before taking his new owl and looking at it with admiration.
"I had wanted to get you a snowy owl, but this was the only decent owl within my price range – I hope it's reliable enough," she said looking at the small black owl worriedly.
It twittered it's approval of him, and Christopher grinned, wondering what he should call it, before hurrying to help his mother with the trunk with one hand, and his new owl in the other.
They took the London Underground to the station, and walked together through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters. Christophers breath was taken away when he saw more wizards his age than he had ever seen in one place before. He hurried with his mother to find a reasonably unpacked carriage on the train before hugging her goodbye, and letting her kiss him on the cheek, unembarrassed as she didn't usually display such affection for him.
After finishing his goodbyes, Christopher settled down in the train compartment his mother had picked out for him, getting ready for a long journey ahead. There had been no empty compartments, but his mother had put him in one in which there was both a boy and a girl already, who both looked like first years.
The mousy-haired boy sitting across from him first regarded him with curiosity, while the girls' reaction for some reason was puzzlement. Christopher tried not to stare at the two of them, but it was hard, as he was facing them both and realised that he would have to introduce himself so as not to appear rude. Just as he was about to look at the girl and put out his hand for a polite introduction as he had been taught, the boy sitting next to her opened his mouth.
"I'm Colin Creevey, and I only just found out that I'm a wizard! Isn't all this great? I haven't actually seen any real magic yet, but I did shoot some sparks out of my wand in Ollivanders, and I've taken ever so many photos already, and I've got loads of film so I'll be able to send them home to show my parents what I'm learning. My dads a milkman you know. So what's your name?" Colin said very fast, clutching one hand to his wand, and his other hand held what looked to be a very old muggle camera.
Christopher was momentarily stunned by this verbal avalanche, but soon pulled himself together and tentatively stretched out his hand.
"Christopher Black, pleased to meet you Colin. Both my parents are magical, but I live with my mother who owns a potions shop."
Colin shook his hand enthusiastically, and Christopher hoped very much that Colin, despite his initial over enthusiasm would soon become one of his first friends here.
The red haired girl was still continuing to stare at him with something in her face bordering between fascination and mistrust.
Instead of an introduction, as he and the other boy had clearly anticipated, the first words out of her mouth were instead quite different.
"You want to be sorted into Slytherin don't you?"
"Do I?" replied Christopher, momentarily taken aback for the second time in only a few minutes.
"Yes. Ginny Weasley," she said as an afterthought, extending her hand with slight distaste.
Christopher raised his eyebrows at her, asking the unspoken question as to why she thought he would want to be in Slytherin, while taking her hand.
"Mum keeps a comprehensive family tree in a book at home. My family is distantly related to your family – the Black family, whom mother says are all Slytherins and dark wizards, and always will be. Slytherin are known for it's dark wizards, and your name is on the Black part of the family tree at the very bottom," she explained curtly, looking at him as if she expected him to jump up and hex her.
"My mother was a Gryffindor, and I've already decided that that's what I want to be," choked Christopher, hoping that Ginny Weasleys 'always will be' wasn't really an 'always will be'. There was no way he wanted to turn out to be a dark wizard like his father had.
Ginny smiled at him then, and seemed to visibly relax, while Colin quickly demanded to know what these things called Gryffindor and Slytherin were, and why they were important. Ginny gave by far the best explanations, and Christopher and her spent the rest of the train journey telling him as much as they could about their world.
When the train finally drew to a standstill in the chill night air of Hogsmeade station, Christopher, Colin and Ginny clambered out gratefully, and headed down towards the boats that the gamekeeper Hagrid directed them towards.
The three of them clambered into a boat, with Colin sitting up front with his camera at the ready. Then, as the group of boats set off across the lake with Hagrids one foremost, Colin took a number of pictures, giving off bright flashes of dazzling light.
"BLACK, stop that!" boomed Hagrid loudly, turning around suddenly in his boat, nearly causing it to upturn. "I knew yeh'd be trouble fer all you're worth. Yeh'll have 20 points taken from whatever house you're sorted into tonight for hexing other students." He turned back to face the looming castle, mumbling to himself loudly, while the students in the other boats started chattering amongst themselves worriedly.
Christopher sat in his boat in quiet shock, as they continued to move towards the castle. Had he just been accused of hexing someone because of the bright flashing lights? On the first day? And had points taken from him before he'd even been sorted? That had to be some sort of a dreadful record. Colin at least had stopped taking pictures now that looming cliffs where obscuring the castle.
"I'm sorry Christopher, I guess he thought my flash looked like a hex," squeaked Colin, looking upset.
"Just make sure you don't get put in the same house I'm put in," snapped a straight haired girl to him, as they clambered up the stairs after disembarking the boats.
Christopher just pretended he didn't hear her, and followed the large gamekeeper called Hagrid up the stairs and into the entrance hall.
They were met in the entrance hall by a tall strict looking woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. She quickly explained that they would each be sorted into one of four houses, and to be on their best behaviour when they made their first appearance in front of the other students. Christopher was rather dismayed when her eyes settled on him, and she gave him a quick frown, as if she already had him down as a troublemaker, and wasn't at all too happy about his presence.
He didn't have much time to dwell on this though, as Professor McGonagall marched across the huge entrance hall to a door leading to a room beside the Great Hall and ushered them inside. Many of the students, including Christopher himself were reluctant to leave the entrance hall, as it was breathtaking in grandeur, and he had discovered to his pleasure, that when he looked upwards, he could see many stairways moving above, as far as he could see.
Professor McGonagall opened the side doorway going into the packed Great Hall, and lead them to stand in front of the students seated at the four tables. It was then that it occurred to Christopher that he may not get given a choice in what house he was going to be sorted into, and a cold feeling of dread settled in his stomach. It was a 'sorting' after all. That didn't imply that he had a choice, and he realised that he should have asked his mother exactly how the sorting took place so that he could have been prepared.
His feelings on the matter seemed to be confirmed when Professor McGonagall explained about the sorting hat and placed it on a wobbly three legged stool in the centre of the hall. Christopher realised that he didn't have much time to think when McGonagall started calling the names of the students in alphabetical order.
"Abbot, Elizabeth." A short blond girl pushed herself out of the line, and hurried up to the stool, where Professor McGonagall placed the shabby old hat on her head. It took less than a second before a bellowing voice rose from it shouting, 'RAVENCLAW!'
Elizabeth took the hat off and set off towards the cheering Ravenclaw table, before McGonagal perused the list for the next name. Christopher hoped it wasn't him quite yet, as he had a nasty feeling about this hat. What if it was true what Ginny Weasley had said about all his family being put in Slytherin - house of the dark wizards? He didn't like to think what he would tell his mother, or whether she would ever forgive him.
"Bell, Brian"
Christopher breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't him yet, and watched as Brian got sorted into 'HUFFLEPUFF!'
"Black, Christopher," said Professor McGonagall in what Christopher felt was a distinctly more disapproving voice than she had used a moment before for Brian.
Christopher took a deep breath and walked forwards. He did not fail to notice how Professor McGonagalls lips had thinned, and the old bearded man sitting in the middle of the teachers table – who could only have been the headmaster, had leaned forwards in his chair slightly as he surveyed Christopher intently over his steepled fingers. Christopher tried to ignore all this however, and concentrated on the hat and the stool, sitting down and waiting for Professor McGonagall to lower it onto his hair.
'Ah yes what have we got here?' said the hat immediately in his ear when it was dropped onto his head, making Christopher jump.
Please put me in Gryffindor, pleaded Christopher, assuming that the hat could hear his thoughts.
'Interesting, very interesting, Gryffindor eh? I remember putting both your parents in Gryffindor and now I see how similar you are to them both, especially your father - I can also see how well you would do in – say – Slytherin?'
Christopher felt his heart racing and a sense of dread overcame him at the thought of being put into Slytherin, so he did the only thing he knew, and wished feverently that he would not be put in Slytherin.
Anything but Slytherin
'Alright, alright,' the hat said to him, almost seeming to chuckle, 'Not really your thing is it?'
'GRYFFINDOR!'
Christopher breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the hat off his head, shoving it into Professor McGonagalls hands without a second thought as he rushed to make it to the Gryffindor table and start his life as one of them for the next 7 years.
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