Chapter Six

Chris's eyes stayed on the enchanted ceiling in Hogwarts, ignoring the whispers from the students and the nervous motions of the short first years around her. Her only thoughts were, Why didn't they do this over the summer so I could avoid the embarrassing moment. And she was mildly embarrassed at the fact that she was the oldest and tallest person waiting in line to wear a creepy looking hat.

She was painfully reminded of her old school back in Carolina, Four Trees School for Gifted Children. Of course, no one outside the walls really knew just how gifted the students were. And they didn't do a sorting with a hat. They sorted by a strength test. They put the potions people together, the transfiguration people together, and so on. She herself was a Charms student, with a flair for potions. She was in the Charms wing, with one roommate, Lisa. There was no sorting, no public display, and no fricking singing hat.

"Davis, Christopher," the old man with the funny looking bifocals called. All eyes were glued on her as she walked up to the stool and looked down. She leaned forward to the man and quietly asked, "Can I just stand, please, because I don't think I'll be able to get back up if I sit on that stool."

A few students must have heard her, because the front six rows laughed. The man nodded, and placed the hat on her head while she was standing. She listened to the hat as it thought.

"Arrogant and intelligent. Twisted and conniving, aren't you. And there are secrets, yes, many secrets you hide deep in your head, my dear. But brave, so brave. Slytherin would be a good place for you."

She didn't realize she had spoken aloud until it was too late. "I rarely get along with my own kind," she stated simply.

"Yes, that's all here too. You don't belong here," the hat told her, and she laughed. Of course she didn't belong there; she didn't want to be there. She wanted to be home.

"I guess I will stick you in GRYFFINDOR," the hat shouted the last word, and she was as surprised as the old man was as he took the hat off of her head.

The table to the left clapped and cheered, so she assumed that that was the Gryffindor's slice of the hall and joined them. She got a few pats on the back and a few handshakes. She really didn't pay attention as she sat down next to a few of the older guys.

"Aren't you a little old to be sorted?" one of them asked. She studied him for a moment. He had carrot orange hair and a pock-marked face. The latter was a tragedy due to the fact that if he hadn't picked at his zits, he wouldn't be a terrible looking boy.

"Aren't you a little too smart to state obvious questions?" she asked. Food appeared on the plates, and juice in the cups. She sipped at hers, but didn't eat. Chris had a feeling that she was going to be sick later that night, and didn't want to vomit more than necessary.

The people surrounding her laughed a bit at her comeback, but it died quickly with a sour glare from the pock-marked boy. Then he smiled at her and offered his hand over the table.

"I'm Weasley, Roy Weasley. And you are…"

"Again with the obvious questions. Chris Davis," she answered, taking his clammy hand briefly. Definitely a boy conversing with a pretty girl.

"Welcome to the house, Chris," Roy said, toasting her with a glass

"Thanks, Weasley," was all she said before her attention fell on the teacher's table at the front of the hall. The headmaster, Dippet, she recalled, had introduced the teachers. One of them was Dumbledore, and she wasn't sure which. She was betting the Charms or the Transfiguration teacher was Tom's favorite she wanted to check in on. Tomorrow, though, not tonight. Tonight she would suffer quietly through what she was sure was going to happen to Pierce.

She felt eyes drift over to her every so often, but after the sorting thing, she had melted into the crowd. Just the way she liked it. They ate, Dippet gave some sort of inane speech she really didn't hear, and they were told to go to bed. She glanced at her watch, it was barely ten. That wasn't going to happen.

Up in the dorms, she pulled her trunks out of her pocket and waved a wand at them to cast the growing spell. Chris checked inside to make sure her clothes grew as well. She didn't want a repeat of her junior year at FTS. She had to wear the same clothes for a week before she figured out what she had done wrong and could fix it.

Around the same time, the rest of the girls she would share the dorm with came in, chattering along like little birds. When they saw her, they kind of just stared, and then one of them whispered something and the other two started to giggle again. Chris didn't care; she didn't need to be friends with her roommates.

Deciding that maybe going to bed now could be a good idea, she slipped her shoes off and yanked back the covers. She didn't undress; she simply collapsed on top of the bed and pulled the curtains around her. The girls continued to speak in hushed tones, as if she couldn't hear their whispered questions about her and how rude she was not even to try to talk to them. As she drifted into sleep, the girl's started to quiet down, and go to bed themselves. She was fully asleep by the time the lights went out.

She got two hours sleep before the pain came and she made a break for the bathroom, hoping she could hold back long enough to get to a toilet.