When the boats rounded the corner and Jessie Seek caught sight of Hogwarts for the first time, she let out a loud breath of surprised air and grabbed hold of Lily's and Ella's hands on either side of her. It's beautiful gray stone walls, the perfect points of the tower roofs, the grand doorway up ahead . . . it was nothing short of a fairy tale.
"Are you crying?" Lily's face was twisted in a show of concern and distaste, like she couldn't imagine that negative emotions would exist in the same space as the magical school she had spent her life dreaming of.
Jessica wiped furiously at her cheeks and offered her new friend what she hoped to be a carefree, reassuring smile. But when she took a breath, something inside of her shifted, like all the broken shards of her heart were moving around and poking at her lungs.
Jane would have loved this. The thought was born before Jessie was even aware that it had been conceived. She had spent the entire summer avoiding the emptiness of the room next to hers, carefully tiptoeing around her father's grief, viciously shoving Jane's name and face and personality into a tight little box in the darkest corner of her mind. It wasn't fair to Jane, to try to forget so easily, to smile and laugh and discover magic as if she hadn't just . . .
Her eyes fell closed, blocking the elaborate castle from view as the little boat heaved with the lake's gentle waves. Hogwarts was a new beginning for her. One day. One day she would unpack that box and revisit that room and confront her father. One day her smile and laughter wouldn't feel so forced. But for now, for now, Jane could not follow her to Hogwarts. She needed to keep moving.
The hand she had forgotten she was holding gently tightened its grip on her. Opening her eyes, Jessica saw Elizabeth staring back at her. The smile on her face was small and warm and her baby blues filled suddenly with hot salted liquid, as if she somehow shared in Jessie's hurt-even without knowing the specific details. Not a word passed between them, of course, but Jessie felt suddenly as though she weren't quite alone as she had perceived herself to be. The smile came a little easier then as the boat thudded against the shore and Lily leaped from her seat, scrambling to be closer to the castle, and waving frantically for Jessica and Elizabeth to join her.
Standing sandwiched in between these two girls whom she had only just met, whom she already somehow loved, Jessie craned her neck back to take in the full expanse of her new school. The setting sun hit the architecture at just the right angle to cast an imposing, overwhelming shadow across the anxious children, blinding them with the last of its rays. Jessie reminded herself to breathe.
"Come along, chil'ens. Yer right on time."
The sight of a burly, giant man caught Jessie off guard. He was big enough that he probably wouldn't have fit through her front door back home and a good portion of his face was hidden behind a curly brown bush of a beard. She took an instinctive step backward, uncertainty clawing at her from inside. What had she gotten herself into? She glanced back where they had came from. Was it too late to-but the boats were gone, already halfway across the lake (though no one accompanied them to row).
"Great," she mumbled half to herself. But when she turned back to the man, she saw that Lily was running up to give him a hug.
"Ruby!" she called, jumping high to wrap her arms around his neck.
"Lily! It's good t' see yer!" Though his voice was as deep and loud as Jessie had anticipated, there was warmth in his beetle black eyes as he set Lily back on her feet. "How's meh favorite goddaughter?"
"Ready for the Sorting, of course!" she answered him, taking his hand in her own. "I suspect I'll be a Lion. Just like Mum and Dad."
"I'm sure yeh will be, Lily," and he was sincere.
"Oh! Ruby, These are my new friends! Ella and Jessie. This is my goddad Rubeus Hagrid."
Elizabeth, who had evidently been lip reading their introduction, stepped forward and extended her hand. She smiled pleasantly and Jessie followed suit.
"It's good t' meet yeh both! Excited for Hogwarts, I s'spect." He pulled what appeared to be a pocket watch out of the fold of his jacket and glanced at it briefly. "Blimey! We bes' be gettin' a move on it, Firs' Years!" This time he spoke to address the whole sea of nervous adolescents. Most of them seemed as apprehensive of the man as Jessie, but a few waved frantic hellos and called out his name. He individually acknowledged each of these students as he ushered them up a short set of stairs and to a doorway. Jessie looked up at him and smiled, deciding that she liked him and that she was ashamed of her initial reaction to his stature.
Hagrid lead them through the entrance and had them stop, single file, in front of what he told them was the Great Hall ("That's where we eat," Lily mumbled at Jessie's visible perplexity). The wait from there was short but the seconds dragged on impossibly as they anticipated the beginning of the "sorting ceremony."
Jessie felt sick. What if she didn't belong to any of the Houses? What if there was a mistake? Would they send her back? Could she survive that? She was only eleven. Going home would mean at least seven more years in that empty house, trying not to get in her father's way. Her stomach lurched. No. Even if there was a mistake, even if Headmistress McGonagall kicked her out of this wonderfully scary new place, she would not go home. Her resolve solidified, hardening like cement in her chest, and for a second she couldn't breathe.
And then the great set of doors in front of them lurched forward, parting to reveal a long narrow walkway in between four tables filled with hundreds of children in scarlet, emerald, yellow, or blue robes. The First Years shuffled after Hagrid, coughing and clearing their throats to mask the crimson tint of their embarrassed cheeks.
The Headmistress greeted them kindly and launched herself into what felt like a very long welcoming speech. Not a single word registered with Jessie as she stood with Elizabeth in front of her and a boy she didn't know behind her. She felt unsteady. She felt sick.
Please, she silently begged McGonagall, please hurry and get it over with.
As if she had heard Jessie's plea, McGonagall clapped her hands and said, "May the Sorting commence!"
August was distracted. Somehow, after the candy trolley left their compartment, he had found himself talking to David Hopkins as though they were friends, as though August hadn't spent the last eleven years of life strategically avoiding him. He wasn't even sure how it had happened. One moment he was telling the kid to mind his own bloody business and the next thing he knew they were trading sweets. Now, standing in the Great Hall, when he should have been mesmerized by the magic ceiling or shy under the smirking gazes of the older Years, he was busy ignoring the continuous noise of Davey Hopkins rambling in his ear about how nervous he was for the Sorting.
But, in truth, that wasn't even the most distracting thing about the whole ordeal.
The Muggleborn girl from the Platform was literally right in front of him. She had discarded her blinding ensemble for the standard black robes of a proper witch. Up close, he could see that her skin wasn't tan at all; it was brown. And her dark hair was so curly it almost looked unpresentable. Almost. She was shifting her weight from foot to foot and reaching up to finger a piece of jewelry-maybe a necklace-in an offhand sort of way that told him she wasn't even aware of her doing it. In front of her was Elizabeth Wright-a girl his father had told him about; apparently she was the start of some new inclusion movement at Hogwarts-and the loud, opinionated, really rather annoying Lily Potter.
He didn't know why his attention was so diverted by this Muggle. It wasn't that he thought the classification was below him or anything. It was just that she didn't look particularly different from any other eleven year old girl he had seen. And yet. The Sorting Ceremony was now in full swing and he was struggling to listen for his name. His eyes were trained, unwavering on her full head of curls, waiting for a name to be said and for her to respond to it.
August was vaguely aware of David's name being called and the nervous boy walking on visibly shaking legs up to where the Headmistress stood waiting. The Hat was placed firmly on Davey's head and promptly fell over his eyes; it sat there thinking for a moment too long before it called out in a decisive manner, "RAVENCLAW!"
Mia Ibbs was Gryffindor.
Dudley Jenkins was Hufflepuff.
Ethan Kent was Slytherin.
Michael Lemons, Henry Lakewells, Sarah Manshaw . . . On and on the list went.
Lily Potter, to absolutely no one's surprise, was Gryffindor, and on her way to the table Elizabeth and the girl each gave her a high five. Watching, his own hand tingled and he shook his head. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Disgusting, even. What's wrong with me? I'm acting like-ew-Ian.
But then-"Seek, Jessica."
And the girl's breath hitched and she-Jessica-was moving and his eyes were on her. She looked clammy and ill as she took her seat. Her knee bounced loudly, idly, anxiously as the Hat found its way on her head. It spoke to her for a long time, longer than anyone, but whatever it was saying seemed to give her some kind of comfort because part way through, she stopped shaking. Eventually, just when even McGonagall began to look impatient, the old dusty fabric shifted and a single word rang out: "HUFFLEPUFF!" When the Hat was lifted off her head, he thought he saw Jessica swipe at a tear on her cheek, but when he looked again her face was dry and he supposed he had imagined it.
Augustine watched her find a place with her House somewhat disappointedly. He must have looked too long though because she raised her head and looked right back at him. His heart stopped and for the first time in his life he went stupid enough to give Thomas a run for his money. For one, two, three seconds he didn't move and her eyebrows fell in confusion. He looked away scowling.
What. Is. Wrong. With. Me? He decided he would not look at her again the entire ceremony and all throughout dinner. He was here to learn and grow strong and make something out of himself. He had a plan. And Jessica Seek was not a part of it.
"Thornfield, Augustine."
The sound of his name shook him awake and he strode, head high and confident (just the way Dad had taught him). He didn't hesitate or shake like the other children. His nervous energy was bundled tightly inside his gut, never to be seen or felt by anyone except himself. . . And maybe the Sorting Hat.
The world went dark as the Hat-which smelled of dust bunnies and cheap shampoo-fell over his face.
"Ah," a small voice murmured in his ear, "Another Thornfield, I see. You come from a very long line of Slytherins. And yes, I see you have ambition, young one-lots of it. Maybe too much."
"You can never have too much ambition," August muttered back. "My father taught me that."
Strangely, the Hat seemed to laugh at his insertion, the fabric shuddering against his head in what seemed to be silent chuckles. "Ah, yes. Your father the Death Eater. A wise choice of role model you've chosen."
Was the Hat . . . being sarcastic? Angry indignation burned in Augustine's chest and despite his doubts-his fear that he knew better-he whispered back furiously, "My father was not a Death Eater."
"Oh, now, child. Don't go getting impulsive on me now; I'd have to stick you with the Cubs in Gryffindor." Before Augustine could even think about protesting, the Hat continued. "No, I see that Slytherin is where you will thrive and Slytherin is where you shall be."
His chosen House's name rang out in the Great Hall and seemed to echo inside his heart as McGonagall pulled the Sorting Hat away from him. This time, he shook just a little as he made his way, beaming in pride, to the table from which all three of his brothers clapped and yelled their approval. Ian pat him squarely on the back-"I'm proud of you, brother"-and Thomas threw a green rubber snake at him-"Good on ya, mate"-and even Oliver inclined his head, offering a rare smile. But Augustine took his seat and pretended not to care.
Eventually-after Elizabeth Wright had joined Jessica Seek at Hufflepuff and August broke his promise just long enough to see Jessie's face crumble in relief-the Sorting came to an end and a feast manifested itself before all four Houses.
August kept mostly to himself, silently observing the other Slytherin First Years as they piled their plates high and made stunted small talk with each other. Ian made an effort at conversation but August wasn't in the mood to talk and eventually he gave up and left to find his girl. After everyone had eaten their fill of dinner and desert, the food disappeared and McGonagall dismissed the students to follow their Prefects to the dormitories.
August shuffled along at the back of the group, walking at his own pace, and marveling at the reality that he was finally at Hogwarts. Laying in his bed that night, listening to the even breaths of his sleeping roomates, he smiled and pulled the blankets up tight under his chin.
He breathed in. He breathed out.
Everything was going according to plan.