A/N: Hola! This is chapter one of my story, which you should all review. This chapter is a little slow, but chapter two will be much more exciting. And I want to thank the person who put me on their favorites, darkwater567, and my one reviewer, bluejay123. And just FYI, I respond to all reviews, and as I will do so here:
Bluejay123: Thanks for the positive input! And to answer your question, there is a reason that Merope is named as she is. Read the summary very carefully and maybe you can figure it out!
And now, on with the show!
Chapter One
Unchained Subconscious
September 1, 2014
"Up, up, up, sleepy head! You're gonna miss the train!"
Merope Fallon groaned and stretched, squinting as light streamed in through her open window. Nella was standing over her, looking anxious and harried. Her makeup was half-done, her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair looked like someone had styled it for a monster movie.
Merope looked nothing like her aunt. She was of average size and weight with lank, dark, shoulder-length hair and gray eyes.
"C'mon, chop, chop!" Nella clapped her hands impatiently. "The early owl catches the flobberworm, you know!"
"I hate flobberworms," grumbled Merope, sliding out of bed.
"What was that?" Nella whirled around to face Merope, who quickly muttered, "nothing" and pulled on the nearest sweatshirt.
"Trunk packed?"
"Yes," said Merope in a muffled voice; her head was still in the sweatshirt.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Positive?"
"Yes."
"Would you bet your life on it?"
"Calm down, you'll get an ulcer."
"Ha, ha, no time for jokes, run, run, run!"
Nella grabbed Merope's wrist and dashed down the stairs, muttering wildly all the way. She released Merope at the foot of the stairs, and Merope dragged her trunk over to the fireplace, but Nella stopped her.
"No time for that! Grab my arm." Nella held out her arm, and Merope took it, handing her trunk over to her aunt's other outstretched hand. "Get ready now…" Nella pivoted on the spot and Merope sucked in a deep breath, preparing herself for the sensation of being stuffed through a tube the size of a doughnut hole. She shut her eyes and felt herself being compressed until it seemed she was completely flat. A second later she was released and standing in front of a plain brick wall at King's Cross Station in London.
Her pulse quickened. This was it. This was the wall that separated her from Hogwarts, the greatest place in the world. And, possibly, the answers to all her questions.
Nella had never told her why she lived with her, and not with her parents. Were they dead? Alive? In the hospital? In Azkaban? Whenever Merope brought up the subject Nella turned a deaf ear and started ranting about whatever was closest.
-Flashback-Six Years Previous
Merope: Nella, are you my mommy?
Nella: No, Mero, I'm your cousin.
Merope: Oh. Then who is my mommy?
Nella: You know what's the worst are these godforsaken Idaho potatoes! They taste like they came out of the ground! I tell you, Merope, if you grow up and go to Idaho, give them a piece of your mind for me. Like I always say, if they aren't grown right here in Ireland, then they aren't worth eating, aren't I right?
Merope: Nella, we don't live in Ireland.
"Merope?" Nella snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Mero, you still with me?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry," said Merope, shaking her head to clear it. "That's the platform, right?" She gestured towards the wall in front of them.
"Yes, now git through." Nella pushed Merope through the wall, dragging Merope's trunk with her.
"Here's your ticket, that's the train, and send a letter every week or you'll be deader than a possum under an eighteen wheeler!" Nella threatened, shoving a ticket into Merope's hand.
"See you in December," she said as the whistle sounded. Merope lugged her trunk onto the train as the doors slid closed and the red engine slipped away from the platform. She caught a last glance of her cousin waving goodbye before she slid out of sight.
"Kid, you gonna move it or not?" shouted a tall, weedy boy behind Merope. She jumped and stumbled quickly down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment. She found one at the end of the car and tried to stow away her trunk, but she couldn't reach so she brought it into the compartment with her. She opened her trunk and took out her wand, looked at it happily for a while, and then placed it on the seat next to her.
Merope looked out the window and gazed at the stragglers. Thanks to her Aunt's hasty goodbye, Merope was not the last one to board the train. Five children, two boys and three girls, were sprinting towards the Express while calling last-minute good-byes to their parents. There was a black-haired girl about four years older than Merope dragging what appeared to be her black-haired and green-eyed brother, closely followed by a dark-haired girl, a red-haired boy, and what Merope suspected as their brown-haired older sister. They clamored onto the train as the final whistle sounded, waving to their parents as the Hogwarts Express turned a corner and the platform was no longer visible. They looked happy.
"Erm…hello?"
Merope jerked her eyes from the view outside and turned towards the door. Standing there was a nervous-looking boy with overgrown brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing his sweatshirt inside-out and dragging his trunk.
"May I sit here?" he asked once he had Merope's attention.
"Yeah, sure," replied Merope. The boy looked relieved as he plopped down onto the seat across from her. "Your sweatshirt's inside-out, did you notice?" The boy looked at it.
"Oh, yeah, guess it is," he said, pulling it off and turning it right. "I'm Terry, by the way."
"Merope," Merope introduced herself. "Are you a first year as well?" Terry nodded.
"What house do you reckon you'll be in?" Terry wondered. "My mum didn't go to Hogwarts, but my dad was Gryffindor. Everyone says it doesn't run in families, but when you look at the Weaslys it's hard to believe that it doesn't."
"What's special about the Weaslys?" said Merope.
"All of them've been in Gryffindor for ages. They're friends of dad's. Two of the Weasly kids are in our year. Dan and MJ. Their twins; you see if their not in Gryffindor."
"I don't know what house my parents were in," said Merope, wishing that she had pestered Nella for more information on her family. "My cousin said something about Hufflepuff once, but that's it."
"Your cousin? Don't you live with your parents either?"
Merope shook her head. "It's nothing to be sorry about, or anything. I—either? You don't live with your parents either?" Terry shook his head.
"Adopted," he shrugged. "But I still see them and stuff, so its all cool."
"Yeah," said Merope, because she had nothing else to say. She wanted to get off the subject, fast. She liked Terry well enough, but she didn't want to have to tell him how little she knew about her parents after spending less than two minutes with him.
"Hufflepuff's not bad," Terry told her fairly, noticing Merope's stiffness. "At least it's not Slytherin."
"I always thought the whole Slytherin-prejudice thing was over."
"Well, it sort of is, but not everyone's forgotten, you know, people like Bellatrix Lestrange and You-Know-Who and the Malfoys." Terry scratched his head. "I know I don't want to be in Slytherin. I want to be a Gryffindor, just like my dad."
"Cool," Merope said. "Gryffindor would be cool." Merope noticed a Wimbourne Wasps sticker on Terry's trunk. "You're a Wasps fan?"
"Oh, yeah," said Terry enthusiastically. "You?"
"I support the Kestrels," said Merope. "The Wasps have been doing better this year, though."
"Did you see how they flattened the Harpies last month?"
"I heard, it sounded pathetic," Merope responded eagerly.
"It was," Terry told her. "Didn't you feel like kicking yourself when Calloway got knocked off her broom by Langston?"
"I didn't go to the match, Nella—my cousin—thinks Quidditch is rubbish."
Terry looked flabbergasted.
"That's awful!"
"I know. Can you fly at all?"
"A little bit," said Terry. "Whenever we stay with the Weaslys and the Potters for Christmas we play three-on-three."
"I've never even touched a broom," admitted Merope jealously. "I really want to play for my house team, though. Someday I want to be as good as—"
"Well, would you look at this, Heyman, all the blood traitors in one place."
Merope and Terry turned around and looked at the three people standing in the door of the compartment. The girl, who Merope was sure was the one who had spoken, was tall in comparison to herself with long, white-blonde hair nearly the same shade as her complexion and wearing very expensive clothes. She was flanked by two boys. The one on her left seemed to be Heyman, the one she was addressing. Heyman was taller than she was, and so broad that Merope was shocked he could fit through the doorway. He looked about three or four years older than the girl, who Merope guessed was a first year as well. The boy on her right was scrawny and around Merope's own height. He was unmistakably a first year.
"Who are you?" demanded Merope rather rudely.
"Shaela Malfoy," sneered the girl, "but no need to ask who you are."
"What's that supposed to mean? I've never met you."
"I don't need to ask because I don't care." The girl laughed shrilly, and Heyman and the other boy followed suit.
"Am I missing something here?" Terry murmured to Merope, apparently just as bewildered by the stupidity of the joke as she was.
"Unfortunately, I don't think so," Merope whispered back.
"If you're just going to sit here and laugh at your dumb jokes, then please leave," said Terry.
"You're mom laughs at dumb jokes," the scrawny boy retorted stupidly. Shaela Malfoy and Heyman laughed again.
"Get out," Merope snapped.
"You're in our compartment," sneered Shaela Malfoy, holding up a hand to silence her cronies.
"What are you talking about, you're first year!" said Merope. "You three are the stupidest people I've ever met."
"Ha! Show's what you know!" Shaela Malfoy said snidely. "Heyman's done third year twice." Heyman nodded proudly.
"I just learned this new spell, want me to try it on you?" he asked.
"We want you to get out," Terry told him for the third time.
"Wait, Terry, I don't think they can understand us," said Merope seriously.
"What?"
"Yeah, you're using words that are to big for them." She walked up to Heyman. "You." She said, slowly and deliberately, poking him in the chest. "Go." She mimed walking away from something. "Out." She pointed outside the compartment. Terry laughed openly as Heyman, Shaela Malfoy, and the scrawny boy looked livid.
"Here's a word I'll bet's to big for you," Heyman snarled, whipping out a wand and pointing it at Merope. Merope backed away as he advanced. Terry was no longer laughing. Merope tripped over her trunk and landed with a crash against the wall of the compartment as Heyman stood over her, wand in hand. Stupid as he may be, if he had been in school four years, he knew a great deal more about magic than Merope did.
"Explliarmous!" shouted a voice from the door, and a jet of light hit Heyman in the back. He was blasted back into a seat and his wand zoomed from his grip. Merope looked in time to see a girl with shoulder-length brown hair and dark blue eyes catch the wand, her own still outstretched.
"Heyman, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded angrily. "Stay where you are!" she shouted to Shaela Malfoy and the other boy, who froze in their attempt to sneak out the door. Heyman seemed to be at a loss for words.
"That's what I thought," she snarled. "Twenty points from Slytherin and detention for all of you on Saturday."
"What?!" yelped Heyman. "Malenkiv—from your own house?"
"Yeah, and if I ever catch you lot harassing any more first years I will hex you," she said dangerously.
"You can't, you're a pref—"
"Try me," said Malenkiv dangerously, cutting across the scrawny boy. She tossed Heyman's wand back at him. "Get out, now."
The threesome didn't need telling twice. They scrambled out of the compartment as fast as they could, looking over their shoulders at Malenkiv as though afraid she would curse their backs.
Malenkiv helped up Merope and Terry.
"Olivia Malenkiv," she introduced herself. "You'll be first years, right?"
"Yeah," said Terry. "I'm Terry."
"Merope," said Merope.
"A word of advice," she said. "Steer clear of those three, they've got quite a legacy. Jay Heyman's had to repeat third year and doesn't have enough brains to figure four plus four, but he knows a few pretty nasty curses. Zachary Zabini's had a brother come through here—he graduated two years ago—and if he's anything like Thanan, he'll be cursing your ears off as soon as he figures out how. And the Malfoy girl has two sisters. One of them's a second year, and she's alright, but the other's the incarnation of evil. Keep out of their way if you can help it, at least until you learn a few proper hexes."
Merope, not entirely sure if Olivia Malenkiv was joking or not, just nodded.
"Thanks," agreed Terry.
" No problem," she said. "You need anything hexed, just ask me." Merope wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, so she just smiled as Olivia Malenkiv left the compartment.
"I wonder where Shaela Malfoy gets her jokes," said Terry thoughtfully, "because I read a few on the back of a Lucky Charms box about a week ago, and they weren't nearly as good as hers."
Many hours and Pumpkin Pasties later, the train pulled to a stop at Hogsmeade station.
"Where to now?" asked Merope once she and Terry had fought their way out of the fray of students getting off the train.
"I dunno," Terry shrugged. "My dad said something about—"
"OI, TERRY!" bellowed a voice from across the grounds, and a second later, three kids were speeding towards Terry. Merope recognized them as the dark-haired girl, redhead boy, and green-eyed boy she had seen coming to the train late. By the lantern light she saw that the other two were rather taller than the green-eyed boy.
"Man, where'd you go off to?" asked the dark-haired girl, punching Terry in the shoulder.
"It's not my fault you guys got on the train late," said Terry defensively, rubbing his harm where the girl had hit him.
"Late, shmate, we made it, didn't we?" the girl scoffed as James nodded.
"Whatever. I got to King's Cross on time, and met Merope." Terry gestured towards Merope, who smiled awkwardly. The girl crossed her arms and gave her a once over.
"Merope, this is MJ Weasly—" he pointed to the girl, "Dan Weasly—" he pointed to the red-haired boy, "and James Potter." He pointed to the black-haired boy.
"Hi," said Merope. James and Dan nodded back, but MJ did not.
"Fantastic," she said unenthusiastically before turning back to Dan. "Didn't your dad say something about boats?"
"Don't take it personally," Terry muttered to Merope, "she doesn't like anybody."
Merope nodded, though she now felt a little bit put out.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here, eh?" Merope turned again and gasped, finding herself face-to-face with the largest man she had ever seen. He was at least three times her height with huge hands and friendly black eyes.
"Hey, Hagrid!" exclaimed James.
"Hello, you four," Hagrid said, gesturing to James, Dan, MJ and Terry. "Haven' seen ya since Christmas! Good holiday?"
"Yeah, it was brilliant," replied Dan. "George exploded MJ's puffeskin, and then she broke his arm!"
Hagrid didn't seem to have anything to say to this. Merope edged away from MJ as though afraid that she would break her arm as well. The conversation was cut short, however, by the arrival of the rest of the first years.
"Alrigh', everybody here?" boomed Hagrid, silently counting out students. "Come with me!" He trooped down the grounds, James, Dan, and MJ right behind him.
"C'mon, Merope," urged Terry, tugging on Merope's sweatshirt. She consented, though was sure to keep a short distance between herself and MJ.
They arrived down at the banks of the largest, blackest lake Merope had seen in her entire life. Docked magically along the edges were ten wooden boats that looked to Merope like they couldn't support the weight of a small rabbit.
"Everyone in!" said Hagrid loudly, clambering into one of the boats. "An' watch how many people yer putting in 'em, they haven' bin replaced in fifty-seven years," he added to a group of girls who were trying to fit seven in a boat. Merope looked around for Terry, but he had already gotten into a boat with James, Dan, and MJ. He caught her eye and gave her an apologetic glance, and then was jerked back into a conversation with James.
Merope climbed into the last open boat carefully; she didn't much like water. However, to her displeasure she was joined shortly by none other than Shaela Malfoy, now accompanied by a large, short-haired girl who was so pudgy that Merope worried that the boat would not support her weight.
"Well, look who it is," said Shaela, leering at Merope. "Mudblood ditch you?"
"Watch it," Merope snapped, "and Terry isn't even Muggle-born, idiot."
"Blood traitor, Mudblood, no difference," said Shaela. "Still ditched you."
"No, he's just got other friends than—"
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid. "Foreword!"
The boats lurched forewords, and began gliding of their own accord across the black lake. Merope was pleased to see that Shaela looked faintly green.
"Who're you?" demanded the fat girl as though only just noticing that Merope was there.
"Who are you?" countered Merope.
"I asked you first."
"I don't care," she said hotly. Merope glanced over at Terry's boat. James, Dan, and Terry were shouting at MJ who was, by the sound of it, trying to figure out the best way to capsize the boat.
The fat girl leaned against the side of the boat and it lurched dangerously. Merope grabbed the boat to keep from flying out, and the fat girl chortled.
"What, scared of a bit of water?" She reached over the side of the boat, causing it to lurch violently again, and splashed Merope.
"I'm not afraid of water," said Merope, annoyed. She crossed her arms as Shaela Malfoy joined in with the fat girl and splashed Merope square in the face. "Seriously, cut it out."
"Why? Scared yet, Fallon?" Shaela demanded.
"God, no, I just don't want to be—wait," said Merope suddenly. "How do you know my name? I never told it to you."
"Overheard the blood traitor talking to you," Shaela replied offhandedly. She splashed Merope again and cackled happily.
"That isn't funny," Merope told her, wiping her face on the sleeve of her robes.
"Oh yeah? Well this is," said the fat girl, and she reached over to Merope.
"Hey, wait! What the—AH!" Merope shouted in surprise as the fat girl sent her toppling over the side of the boat. Water so cold it seemed to freeze her eyelashes saturated Merope's robes, weighing her down. The lake was so dark she couldn't tell whether her eyes were open or closed. She kicked her legs furiously and tried to pull herself upwards, but her clothes were weighing her down. One of her shoes came off and fell away into the water.
Her head was swimming. Even the darkness of the lake was getting darker. Merope's lungs were on fire. She swam upwards, but her clothes were too heavy. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her back and she jerked around, afraid it was a grindylow or something equally nasty. The hand took the back of her robes and pulled her upwards, out of the water.
She landed on the bottom of one of the boats on her back, gasping, sputtering, and spitting out water.
"Are yer alrigh', kid?" asked Hagrid from above her once Merope's coughs had subsided.
"Yeah, fine," she replied a little hoarsely.
"Ya otta be careful with these boats," said Hagrid. "Lean over to the side to far an' then yer in the water."
"I was being careful, it was that girl who pushed me in!" Merope exclaimed indignantly.
"The Malfoy girl?"
"No, the other."
"Now why would she be doin' summat like tha'?" asked Hagrid.
"How should I know?" said Merope. "I was in the boat three seconds when she starts splashing me and the next thing I know I'm in the water!"
"Well, we're nearly up ter the castle an' yer cun git dried off up there," said Hagrid. "Here, ya can see it now."
Merope sat up, and sure enough Hogwarts Castle was looming above them. It was enormous and made of stone—exactly the way Nella had described it. She had even been able to produce a few pictures of the place, but this was nothing to turning the old, yellowing pages of Hogwarts: A History and staring longingly at the faded sketches. To Merope, Hogwarts was not a place you saw, it was a place you felt. It felt like a piece of something, a piece of history, something that Merope would soon join.
The boats lurched to a stop and Merope disembarked gladly, thinking of the warm entrance hall and the promise of a hot dinner. She wrung out her hair, trying to get out most of the water. When she looked again, Terry was standing in front of her. The two followed Hagrid up the castle steps and into the entrance hall.
"Are you okay?" asked Terry.
"I swear I'm going to murder that girl," grumbled Merope. "I'm going to die of hypothermia if it gets any colder—"
"Oi, Terry!" Dan Weasly shouted from a few meters away. Terry turned and saw that his friends were all waving him over. Terry looked guiltily over at Merope.
"I don't have to go with them," he started, but Merope cut across him.
"No, Terry, it's cool," replied Merope, "I'll see you later."
"You sure?" he asked, as MJ Weasly shouted, "Terry! You wanna see how many gobstones fit up Dan's nose?"
"Yeah, seriously, and if you ask again I'm gonna hit you," Merope told him, smiling slightly, and with a laugh Terry hiked over to his friends.
"What a jerk."
Merope looked to see who had spoken, but saw nobody.
"Over here, dolt," said the voice again, "on your right." Merope turned, and yelled in shock. Standing there was a translucent form of herself, though slightly distorted in a way that Merope couldn't put her finger on.
"Wha…who…huh?" she said weakly.
"I'm you, moron," the distorted Merope told her.
"How…what?"
"I'm you, how many times do I have to say it? Merlin's pants, you're slow!" the distorted Merope said impatiently.
"Your not me, I'm me," said Merope stupidly.
"Oh, please, its not like you're the only you," the distorted Merope scoffed in her annoyingly arrogant tone.
"What are you, my evil twin?"
"Of course not, this isn't a soap opera. You are you, but I am also you. You think of things in your brain, and I think of things in your brain. We have separate ideas and thoughts in the same head. Follow me?"
Merope stared at her translucent double blankly. The not-Merope huffed.
"I'm the voice in the back of your head. I'm the one with the second thoughts."
"Like my conscience?" asked Merope.
"No, your conscience tells you right from wrong. I give you my perspective on the things you think up."
"So…do I control you, or do you control me, or what?"
"You most certainly do not control me," non-Merope snapped. "This isn't about control, this is about ideas and thoughts! It's like your the emotions and I'm the logic."
"Like right brain and left brain?"
"No!" non-Merope looked annoyed. "Right and left brain control different parts of you. I just give you my input whenever I feel its necessary."
"So, you're the voice in the back of my head?" asked Merope incredulously. This had to be the strangest thing she had ever experienced. "Since when do you have a body? If I've been listening to you for eleven years, then how come your out here now?" non-Merope didn't reply. "Can anybody else see you?"
"I dunno," non-Merope shrugged. "I don't know everything."
"Your freaking me out," Merope told her. "Get back in my head, now."
"I don't have to listen to you," said non-Merope, "but I am going to go back now. You are attracting odd looks. This is not the last you'll see of me."
"That's not for you to decide!" said Merope, but non-Merope was already gone. In reality, Merope had no idea if it was for her to decide. She didn't know if she had imagined it or not. Was this normal? Was she going crazy?
'Going' crazy? said non-Merope inside Merope's head, and Merope jumped. You're already a nutter, don't fuss about it.
Who asked you? thought Merope angrily.
[all words inside the markings are non-Merope's thoughts
.:You did, dolt:.
Get out of my head.
.:I live in your head, idiot:.
Well, quit reading my thoughts!
.:You are stupider than I thought. For the second time, I live in your head. Reading your thoughts is my freaking job:.
You've never talked to me this straight out before. Shut up already. Your annoying me.
.:Quit arguing with me, your supposed to be listening to that professor up there:.
You're the one distracting me! Merope protested, but non-Merope was silent.
"—through those doors, and then the sorting will begin," a tall, weedy-looking female professor was wheezing at them. She spoke as if she had a cold. The students followed the professor through the doors and into the Great Hall.
Everywhere Merope looked were people, all staring at them. She couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. She tried to shrink behind the sandy-haired boy in front of her; she didn't like the feeling of being under a bright spotlight.
Nobody said a word. Merope wondered what they were waiting for. Then, suddenly, someone started singing. Merope wondered for a moment who it was, but when she looked over the sandy-haired boy's head, she saw that it was an old hat on a stool.
Greetings, I'm the Sorting Hat and I'll tell you of my history
The founding of this school is a famous allegory.
Hogwarts School came to be a thousand years ago
Built by four intrepid—
.:What an obnoxious song:.
I thought you were shutting up.
.:Did I say that?:.
I did.
.:That hat is really annoying:.
Good for you.
.:I wish it would shut up already:.
I wish you would shut up already.
.:Oh, aren't we little smart-asses today:.
I'm the smart ass?
.:SOMEONE missed their nappy…:.
Shut up.
.:I don't want to:.
Too bad, shut up!
.:Oh, look, the stupid hat is finished! Thank god…:.
I'm ignoring you.
.:Good luck:.
"When I call your—cough—name," said the weedy professor as non-Merope made snide comments in Merope's head, "come up and—cough—put on the hat. When it sorts you, go to the correct table."
The professor pulled out an enormous list that trailed onto the floor.
"Anderson, Andrie!"
A muscular but attractive brown-haired girl walked confidently up to the hat and stuck it on her head.
"Gryffindor!" the hat exclaimed, and Andrie joined the table that shouted the loudest.
"Arias, Rosalita!" A cocky-looking Hispanic girl sat on the stool. "RAVENCLAW!"
"Brookes, Kyle!"
The sandy-haired boy in front of Merope walked up to the stool. He didn't look as confident as Andrie at all.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat, and Kyle joined the table next to the Gryffindor table.
Jack Callahan and Forest Carson became Ravenclaws. Steven Emerald joined Kyle Brookes at the Hufflepuff table, and Jean Emmerson became the third Gryffindor.
"Fallon, Merope!" said the professor. Merope gulped, her stomach churning, as she sat on the stool.
"Hmmm," said a voice inside her head, and for a moment Merope thought it was non-Merope. However, she realized a second later it was the hat. "You are a tricky one, are you? Not Ravenclaw….Hufflepuff's no good either…Gryffindor, perhaps?"
.:What about Slytherin?:.
No! You shut up! Merope thought furiously. What was going on? She had always had a voice in the back of her head, but it had never spoken so directly—or so much. This was one time that Merope did not want her input.
"Slytherin? Hmm…that makes sense…"
Wait, what about Gryffindor?
.:I want to be a Slytherin. Put me there:.
Don't listen to her! I thought I told you to stuff it.
"Merope, do you have your mind made up?"
Yes!
.:Yes, Slytherin!:.
NO! Leave me be!
"I've been a hat a long time," said the hat, "and I've found that the voices in the back of people's heads are often very accurate…even if the person doesn't know it."
The voices in the back of most people's heads don't have death wishes!
.:Watch it, dumb ass:.
Can you shut up for ten seconds?
.:Probably:.
Please, not Slytherin!
.:Trust me. Slytherin is the way to go!:.
No! Don't listen to her, please don't listen to her!
"I think she's right."
She's not, she's wrong!
"The front of your mind is prejudiced. The back of your mind is not!"
The back of my mind is INSANE!
"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted, and the table furthest to the left screamed in delight.
Now look what you've done.
non-Merope did not reply. Merope angrily took off the hat and stalked off to the Slytherin table, sitting on the end, where the table was most empty.
"Finnegan, Sean" became a Hufflepuff, followed by two Ravenclaws, "Hartford, Evan" and "Jackson, Tracy." Stanley Larson joined Merope as a Slytherin. Then, it was Terry's turn. Merope hoped he would be in Slytherin, with her. But to her dismay, the hat shouted, "Ravenclaw!" and Terry went to join Rosalita Arias, Tracy Jackson, Evan Hartford, Jack Callahan, and Forest Carson.
To nobody's surprise, Shaela Malfoy became the third Slytherin. Austin Mason became a Gryffindor. Andrew McMillan was a Hufflepuff, and Natalie Nambly followed Austin to the Ravenclaw table while Keiko Okada became a Hufflepuff. James Potter, who Merope recognized as Terry's friend from the boats, became a Gryffindor.
"Ray, Mallory," the fat girl who pushed Merope off the boat, became a Slytherin. "Richmond, Donna" and "Santoni, Sarah" became Hufflepuffs. "Stevens, Nathaniel" became another Gryffindor. "Thomas, Emily" was named a Ravenclaw, while "VenTuri, Nalane" became a Gryffindor. "Weasly, Daniel," and "Weasly, Mary Joan," Terry's friends, went to the Gryffindor table. Finally, only two boys were left. Both, Collin Yu and Zachary Zabini, became Slytherins.
Merope paid them no attention.
I know you can hear me, she thought angrily to non-Merope. Why'd you do that?! I don't belong in Slytherin, I'm not Dark!
.:For crying out loud, shut up! Your incessant whining is getting really obnoxious!:.
I'm obnoxious? I control the brain you live in! I can be as obnoxious as I want to be!
.:In that case, so can I:.
What is your problem?
.:Well, I've got this continuing stomachache that hasn't gone away for about a week. Thank you for asking:.
Is anything that comes out of your mouth ever actually HELPFUL?
non-Merope didn't answer. Merope rolled her eyes and huffed, annoyed.
How long are you going to be this annoying for?
.:Dunno. Could be a week, maybe two…or fifty-two…forever is a definite possibility:.
Forever is a definite possibility. Merope did not like the sound of that at all.
A/N: So what'd you think? Like I said, next chapter will get more exciting. That's a promise! So why don't you give my self esteem a boost and review a bit?