The heavy doors swing open immediately, making Dru jump a little. Behind it in the doorway stands a tall, thin witch with a drawn face, round glasses perched precariously at the end of her nose and long black hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She tucks her wand away in a pocket of her brilliant green robes. Dru gulps as she surveys the students and Hagrid calmly. This woman looks more scary than her Uncle Lucius does, even when he flies into a rage.
"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid says after clearing his throat awkwardly, nodding his head at her in greeting.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
At McGonagall's gesture, the first year rabble troop warily through the door. Draco's hand finds its way onto the very edge of Dru's sleeve as they move, but Dru knows better than to point it out. Knowing Draco the way she does, he would only swear he was keeping his balance or something equally as stupid. Besides, the slight tugging at her sleeve makes her feel better too, reminding her she's not alone in all this. She feels Lilith move slightly as her robe shifts, and silently sends a message to her snake to stay calm as she walks through the doorway and into the hall beyond.
The Entrance Hall is massive, Dru thinks as she walks through the main doorway and into the building for the first time. Having grown up in Malfoy Manor, she had thought she knew what the word 'massive' meant, but she realises now that she was wrong. It dwarfs even the Malfoys' ballroom. The stone walls are lit with torches, old fashioned ones that she'd seen outside some of the shops in Diagon Alley, and they sit a few feet apart along the walls. They lead her eye along to the wall to a beautiful wide stone staircase- marble, perhaps? Dru wonders to herself- with intricate designs carved into the pillars of the banister. There are maybe ten stairs and then a huge room beyond, and in the dim light from the torches Dru can see portraits, moving around. They look like they are trying to catch a glimpse of the new students. There are also majestic stone staircases leading to the rest of the castle. Professor McGonagall gives them a few more moments to take in the enormity of the view, and then catches their attention and leads them across the huge stone flags past the closed door to the Great Hall. Dru gulps as she hears the buzz of the school behind the doors, and Draco's hand tightens on her robe surreptitiously. McGonagall leads the first years into a small chamber just along the wall from the Hall. The group crowds together tightly, wondering what comes next, peering around nervously.
Professor McGonagall clears her throat and looks down at the children once more. They fall into silence and look up at her expectantly. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she begins. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall through here, you will all be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is an important ceremony; while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time within your house common room."
Dru glanced around. It was easy to tell who was a muggleborn here; those that were looked utterly entranced.
"For the muggleborn witches and wizards among us, the four houses are named Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards throughout history. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes pick out a few students directly at her feet, and Dru notes Harry Potter and the newest Weasley brother standing a few feet in front of where she is, closer to the front. Potter's hands try to smooth his hair down to no avail. "I shall return when we are ready for you," she says finally. "Please wait quietly."
With that, she sweeps from the room. The whole room erupts into whispered conversation. Dru hears Potter whispering to the Weasel. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"
She rolls her eyes. Of course the great and mighty Harry Potter wouldn't know how they're going to to be sorted, she thinks. Ron mutters something back at him that she distinctly hears involving 'brothers', 'troll' and 'test' and she wants to hide her face in despair. Were all these wizards actually right when they said Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord?
Meanwhile, Draco rolls his eyes as he sees Potter talking to the redhead, and considering it a personal offence that the only living offspring of the Potter bloodline is talking to a blood traitor, he decides to make a move. He barges through the crowd of people to where Harry Potter stands, looking every part his father's son. Dru follows suit, if only because she wants to catch another glimpse of Potter's eyes- no, the scar, she corrects herself. She wants to see his scar again. Draco stops short just behind Potter in the room and taps him firmly on the shoulder. He turns, his face curious.
"Yeah?"
"You're Harry Potter," Draco tells him. Dru has to suppress a smirk as she realises what he's said is a direct echo of her first words to Potter.
Harry Potter rolls his eyes. "Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me."
"I'm Draco Malfoy. I don't suppose you're going to know much about the wizarding world, what with growing up with mudbloods," he says quite cordially, though Dru can hear the hisses and gasps of shock of the others who understand the weight of the word around them.
"It would be my honour to help you work out-" and here Draco pauses, looking at the Weasley coldly- "who it would benefit you to know. Who your real friends will be." He sticks his hand out for Potter to shake.
Potter looks at him for a moment, and the group around them holds their breath as they wait for his response. He looks down at Draco's outstretched hand and Dru silently wills him to take it and shake his hand. Come on, Harry Potter, she thinks. But he doesn't. After another second, he shakes his head just a little.
"Thanks, but I think I can work out who my friends are on my own," he says politely, and then he turns- he actually turns away from Draco to face towards the door Professor McGonagall left through.
Draco sputters silently, but by this point, the attention of the little group around them is focused firmly on the Sorting. Dru can hear whispered conversations from Potter and the people around him just in front of her, but they're talking too quietly for her to properly listen in. One of the girls near him with hair just as bushy as her own is muttering to herself. Dru barely spares her a second glance as Draco turns to her, scowling viciously.
"Damn Harry Potter! Who does he think he is, snubbing a Malfoy like that?! I'll make him pay..." Dru just shakes her head at him and then tunes his furious muttering out, thinking about the Sorting Ceremony ahead. She is about as far from focused as is possible when several people behind her shriek in fear. She leaps about a foot in the air, as do plenty of other people around her. They turn as one to face the back of the room to the sight of a large group of ghosts streaming through the walls. Numbering about twenty or so, they float towards the first-years. Dru boggles at their appearance. A foggy, pearly white colour and somewhat translucent, they look entirely ethereal. They are arguing, Dru realises after a moment, and she looks at Draco, confused. He stares back at her just as perplexed, and they turn back to the ghosts after a moment.
A tiny, stout monk dressed in a ragged old robe is speaking. "-forgive and forget. I say we ought to give him a second chance-"
Another ghost in a ruff and tights interrupts him. "My dearest Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?"
The monk grins as he takes in the sight of the baffled and silent students. "New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nod slowly.
"Well now! I hope to see a few of you in Hufflepuff! I'm known as the Fat Friar- Hufflepuff was my old house, you know."
Just at that point, Professor McGonagall sweeps back into the room. "Move along now, please," she tells the ghosts. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
The ghosts all nod or doff their caps in respect to her and drift through the wall towards the Great Hall. McGonagall watches them leave, then turns to the first-years. "Now, form a line, single file if you would, yes, that's right," she says encouragingly. "Follow me."
Dru jostles alongside Draco to get a place in the line without disturbing Lilith. She is jammed against Draco's back and behind her stands a boy with sandy coloured hair. Behind him stands Potter, and then the Weasley boy. She recognises the people from the carriage she sat in on the train towards the back of the line. The girl, Pansy, smiles at her as she catches her eye, and then they are moving into the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall leads them back across the stone flags of the Entrance Hall, her shoes clicking loudly and echoing in the space around them. She pauses for a moment and the double doors swing open. Dru's breath is taken away. Even in her wildest dreams- even with the descriptions that her Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius have given her several times over- she could never have imagined beauty like this.
The Great Hall dwarfs the Entrance Hall with ease. Dru looks up and swears to herself the walls keep on rising forever, roofless, into the clear skies of the night outside. Of course, her Aunt and Uncle have told her all about how the ceiling of the Great Hall is enchanted to reflect the sky outside, but she never really believed it would look quite this convincing. Professor McGonagall leads the first-years down a wide aisle directly in the middle of four long tables that stretch almost the length of the hall. On the table the far left of her as she shuffles down the hall, next to the wall, the benches are populated with students in robes boasting a rich green trim, and they watch the new students with an air of disdain, most sitting absolutely still. Slytherins, Dru remembers from her discussions with Draco in the car on the journey from Wiltshire to London. Closer to her, the middle table on the left, sit student with blue trimmed robes, and Dru notes that they watch the students curiously and they too sit reasonably still as they watch the first-years file in, as if a sudden movement might startle them into running. Like an experiment, she thinks. She swallows nervously. They can only be the Ravenclaws.
To her near right, the benches are stuffed with yellow-trimmed robes. Most of the students crowding these benches are smiling warmly at the newcomers, and one or two of them wave subtly at the students as they file along the hall. Hufflepuffs, Dru forces herself to recall to quash the butterflies in her stomach. Yellow is the colour of Hufflepuff's house. To the far right of Dru is the table with the most movement. The students seated there jostle for the best position to view the newcomers, and they grin and wave openly at the first-years, laughing quietly at their faces when they look over. The trim of their robes is red. Gryffindor, Dru thinks. When she sees a row of red hair and two identical boys waving excitedly to a point just behind her she sighs internally. Definitely Gryffindor, then. All of the tables are laid with hundreds upon hundreds of glittering golden plates and matching cutlery and goblets, and Dru wishes it could be time to eat as her stomach rumbles loudly.
Her attention shifts from the students and the tables to the Hall itself. It is lit with thousands upon thousands of candles, floating right the way across the Hall about six feet above the tables, bobbing slowly as they burn. The candles even float above the table at the end of the hall, which is stretched out horizontally. The staff sit there, Dru remembers her Uncle telling her, and sure enough, along the table sit adults. In the centre sits a regal man with a long thick beard- Dumbledore, she realises, as she's seen his face a few times on Chocolate Frog cards. Behind them, in the centre of the room opposite the huge double doors of the Hall, sit four enormous hourglasses. Each is filled with crystals of a different colour, corresponding to the four houses. Dru realises these must be the house point hourglasses that Draco mentioned from Hogwarts: A History.
Gryffindor's hourglass is decorated with gold filigree that curls around the base and top like flames licking at a log. The 'flames' fall about halfway down the top of the hourglass, but the shapes are hollow and the fiery red crystals can be seen filling the top. The base of the hourglass has thinner shapes and they only rise around a quarter of the base to allow students to see the fallen crystals in comparison to the other houses. Hufflepuff's has intricate straight line patterns forming strange rectangular shapes in a shining black in a thin rim around the top, bottom and the narrow middle, contrasting beautifully with the brilliant yellow gems that are encased within the top of the glass shape. Ravenclaw's has bronze feathery shapes that overlap around the middle and two plain solid bronze bands around the top and bottom of the hourglass, and like Hufflepuff's hourglass, the bronze is the perfect colour to compliment the glittering blue inside the top half of the hourglass. Slytherin's hourglass is the one Dru finds most beautiful, though. It has silver filigree, much like Gryffindor's, except instead of fire, the silver filigree looks exactly like a river. It flows- there is no other word for it, thinks Dru as she stares openmouthed at it- around the top of the hourglass, and in two or three thin strands, so as not to obscure the view of the crystals, it falls gracefully down the glass. Dru swears it looks like it is splashing as it curls around the glass base. Just like the others, the base is decorated more sparsely to allow students to see the crystals. And just as the other crystals are emphasised by the decorations, the green crystals contained within the structure are brought to life by the presence of the complimenting silver.
The students gather in the open space in front of the staff table as they reach the end of the hall. Dru stands close to Draco as they line up, facing the student body, the teachers behind them. The almost-silence of students falls away and Dru can hear herself breathing in the hall as Professor McGonagall fetches a high four legged stool from the side of the room. She places the stool loudly down on the cracked flagstone floor and then gently sets a beaten up old wizard's hat on top. The whole hall seems to hold its breath as it looks at the Sorting Hat, and then suddenly a wide tear in the brim opens like a mouth and the Hat bursts into song, filling the hall with a warm, welcoming voice.
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The hat actually bows to the students, who begin to clap and hoot thunderously. Once it has bowed to each four house tables in turn, it returns to being still, looking all the more hattish. Professor McGonagall steps forward as the applause dies away, holding an incredibly long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she announces. "Abbott, Hannah."
Dru watches nervously as a girl a few steps along from her with a ruddy pink face and blonde pigtails stumbles forward and clambers, shaking, onto the stool, stuffing the hat onto her head. It falls right down over her eyes. The whole room pauses and-
"HUFFLEPUFF!" yells the hat.
The Hufflepuff table erupts into cheers as Hannah Abbott lifts the hat gingerly off her head, sets it on the stool and scuttles off down the hall to the end of the Hufflepuff table, where the empty spaces for the first-years sit. Dru watches the Fat Friar wave at her from where he hangs in midair a foot or so below the candles.
"Bones, Susan."
"HUFFLEPUFF!" calls the hat after a moment.
"Boot, Terry."
"RAVENCLAW!" yells the hat barely a second after it touches Boot's head. Dru thinks Boot looks rather like a fish as he all but runs to the Ravenclaw table. As Boot sits at the table, Dru loses all interest in the Sorting. It's all the same to her what house people are sorted in. The only Sortings that really matter to her are her own and her brother's, after all. She half tunes out the other names and loses herself in her thoughts, waiting for her name to be called.
"Gaunt, Druella."
She gulps. Her time has come. Stepping forward holding her shoulders straight, pretending that she couldn't care less about the whole ordeal, she heads for the stool. Pushing herself backwards onto it, she lowers the Sorting Hat onto her head where it flops over her eyes just as it had with the silly Abbott girl.
"Hmmm," comes a voice in her mind. "So much potential."
"Are you the hat?" she thinks back at it curiously, too overwhelmed to feel much fear.
"Clever girl, yes, and the aptitude for asking questions too, wanting to know so very much! You'd go far in Ravenclaw, my girl... but then again I see the bravery of a lion in here, as well as the cunning of the snake! Congratulations on sneaking the grass snake in," it tells her cheekily, and she squeezes her eyes shut in fear.
"Don't say a word," she mentally hisses. "I'll get into trouble before I've even started and Aunt 'Cissa will kill me. Wh-where are you going to put me?"
"Well, well! Perhaps not quite the bravery of the lion yet, then... but certainly in time, yes. And the threat, oh poor old me, threatening a hat! There's nothing more for it then-"
Dru hears nothing but silence for what feels like an eternity and then:
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Slytherin table claps and cheers a little for their newcomer and she takes the hat off, places it gently on the stool and scurries down the hall and around to her new house table. As she walks, she realises the grey trim on her house robes is beginning to shift. It moves from grey to green as she walks and by the time she reaches the Slytherin table, she is wearing robes with a distinctive Slytherin trim. The grey striped tie around her neck has also shifted from grey to shades of green to match, and the Hogwarts logo has morphed into a Slytherin one, complete with snake.
"Granger, Hermione," is the next name called out across the Hall as she slides in next to a girl with long dark brown hair and big brown eyes, another first-year, who smiles wryly at her. "Hi," she whispers at Dru before turning to the Sorting again. Dru sighs in relief as soon as all eyes are turned back to the next first-year. Slytherin was a safe choice, one that Aunt 'Cissa and Uncle Lucius would approve of. She smiles to herself and turns to watch the other students being Sorted.
The rest of the ceremony flies by quickly after that, and Dru is really too relieved to focus on the names of anyone who. The only Sortings that Dru really remembers are:
"Longbottom, Neville." The hat sits on his head for a good five minutes before it finally announces "GRYFFINDOR!"
Longbottom runs towards the table with the Sorting Hat still firmly jammed onto his head, and has to walk back to hand it to the next student amid laughter from all the tables.
"Malfoy, Draco."
As Draco steps forward, Dru tenses. This Sorting is even more important than her own, as Draco's inheritance as a Malfoy basically rests on his becoming a Slytherin. Dru bites her lip as the hat is lowered onto his head, but it barely brushes his hair before yelling "SLYTHERIN!". Dru sighs with relief as Draco scurries over and sits down next to her, touching her shoulder and then her arm as soon as he's reunited with her. She hadn't really realised how much of the tension in her gut was for her adopted brother and whether or not he would still be accepted within his family until he sat down beside her and nonchalantly brushed her arm.
"Potter, Harry." At this, the volume in the Hall leaps higher as the whole student body dissolves into "Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? Really?" and strains to get a better look at the Boy Who Lived. He steps forward nervously and sits on the stool. The hat doesn't quite cover his whole face, and Dru sees him mouthing something- though she's too far away to see exactly what- as he engages in mental conversation with the hat. After a few more minutes of this, the whole school is on edge waiting to see the conclusion. Dru, too, is waiting for the result.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The roar that comes from the Gryffindor table is loud enough that Dru sighs, but she knows that really, the cheering would have been the same from any of the house tables. She can hear someone yelling "We got Potter, we got Potter!" in glee and shakes her head. Draco rolls his eyes and slumps forward towards the table gloomily, resting his pointed chin in his hand.
Dru really doesn't care about the other students, so when 'Zabini, Blaise' is announced as a Slytherin, she's relieved. Professor McGonagall rolls the scroll up and tucks it under her arm, then carries the Sorting Hat and the stool away. Dumbledore looks over the students and then gets to his feet. He opens his arms wide and smiles warmly at them, as though nothing could please him more then their being in the room with him.
"Welcome!" he announces. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Nlubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
As he sits down again, the hall erupts with cheers and clapping. Dru notes that the Slytherins look somewhat bored with him and merely clap politely, so she follows suit. She can see some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs laughing. As she joins Slytherin's quiet applause, Draco leans over to her.
"He's insane."
"He's a genius," says another first-year sitting nearby them, some girl with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. "I read about him in Hogwarts: A History."
"You don't have to be sane to be a genius," Dru replies curtly.
After another moment's silence amongst the first years, the large serving platters running along the centre of the table shimmer- or so it seems to Dru- and out of nowhere they suddenly hold piles of food- more than Dru has ever seen. The tables, old and well worn, groan with the sudden influx of weight. Dru's eyes widen as she takes it all in, and for a moment she is too shocked to move. The platters hold a mixture of food, most of which she was more than happy to eat. Roast beef, perfectly pink in the middle and sliced thinly, piled high with a drizzle of gravy, thick slices of roast chicken so juicy they didn't actually need gravy- there is a whole platter of chicken and turkey legs too, steaming hot and still with their with golden, crispy skin- and pork chops, too, a towering stack with the fat trimmed right down, so there is just enough to add flavour but not enough to make them greasy; lamb chops, so tender Dru watches as a student spears one with their fork and it falls apart on the journey to the plate. There is a pile of sausages so high directly in front of Dru she can't actually see the student on the other side of the table from her, and bacon cooked till it's crispy. There is steak, too, cooked to a variety of different tastes, all labelled neatly with a flag and spidering writing. The one closest to her says 'Well-Done' and Draco is poking at one of the steaks on the top with distaste.
"I want a medium steak," he complains, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than Dru watches the nearest 'Medium' steak platter send one of the top steaks, still juicy and hot, hovering to Draco's plate. It settles itself firmly on one side and Draco grins. "I could get used to this."
Dru just rolls her eyes and grabs some sausages, and a few slices of chicken. It feels good to not have Aunt 'Cissa watching what she eats, just in case she 'puts on weight'. She sniggers to herself as she piles the chicken high. Aunt 'Cissa had totally missed out on her frequent trips to the kitchen as a child with Draco in tow, begging sandwiches and sometimes entire extra meals from the house-elves.
"Potatoes, Dru?"
Dru looks up. As well as all the meat, there are boiled potatoes, fluffy mashed potatoes with extra butter on top, golden roast potatoes that are crispy beyond compare, thin chips with salt sprinkled on top... Dru spots a pile of Yorkshire puddings and grabs a couple, adding them to her plate along with carrots, peas and some broccoli. She picks up a gravy boat and douses the whole plate in gravy. Next to her, Draco has piled some beef on his plate and is looking for a pot of horseradish sauce. Again, as he asks for it, it jumps up from where it had been lounging further down the table and scurries to him. Dru has to remind him to say thank you. It crashes into a plateful of mint humbugs as it scurries to the next person who has asked, and Dru looks at the plate, bemused. She grabs a drink of pumpkin juice, but notes with happiness that there are other drinks ranging from water through to cloudy lemonade on offer for the students to drink. Just as she's reaching for her knife and fork, she realises that one of the students just a few seats away from her is halfway through a plate of food, one that looks very different to the food that she is choosing from.
"Why are you eating that?" she asks the other Slytherin. She looks like she's a second year, as she's sitting further up the table and appears to be used to the food's rapid appearance. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into a plait.
She looks up from her plateful and swallows her mouthful, looking at Dru curiously. "I'm a vegan. I can't eat meat, it makes me sick and I don't get any nutrients from it, so when I joined Hogwarts last year my mother asked McGonagall if there are allowances for special dietary requirements. Turns out, they have a whole separate kitchen down below for that. Like they do the usual kind of thing with no nuts in the food for the whole school and stuff, just in case, but if you've got really specific things like me, then there's a whole section of kitchen where they'll make exactly what you need. I can only really eat raw food, so I get platefuls of really nice stuff like this," she tells Dru with a smile. "There's students who won't eat certain meats because of religious reasons, and the Muslim witches and stuff, they get special meals served to them when they do that fasting thing, they get special passes for curfew exemptions and can come down to the Great Hall in the night, when they're allowed to eat. They get a timetable of their separate meal times. One of our Muslim students, Nasirah, does it."
"Oh, right. I'm sorry you can't eat meat," Dru tells her.
"I'm not. I eat just as well as you guys, and at least I know I'm not going to be in crippling pain tonight once I've eaten." She smiles again at Dru and then turns back to her friends.
By this point, Dru's stomach is doing the equivalent of yelling loudly at her to feed it, so she grabs her cutlery and digs in. She lets out a small hum of pleasure as she tastes the chicken. The food is utterly delicious. It doesn't take either her or Draco very long to finish a plateful, and just as she reaches for the chips to get seconds, a ghost sweeps down the table to study the first years. He is dressed in ancient clothing, and there is silvery blood over his clothing.
"You will all know me as the Bloody Baron. Slytherin house ghost, don't you know." he says by way of introduction. "If you need Peeves to stop doing whatever he ends up doing, send for me. I'm the only other one he'll listen to, except Dumbledore and those infernal redhead twins."
"A pleasure to meet you, Baron," says Pansy Parkinson haughtily. "Thanks for the tip about Peeves."
"Most welcome. Now, I should hope you will all help Slytherin continue their glory and win the House Cup. Six years running, we have won it! It's most excellent to gloat to Sir Nicholas over there- he's the Gryffindor house ghost, the one in the ruff, yes that's him. Nearly Headless Nick, the students call him."
Dru watches as he grabs his ear and actually pulls his head away from his body. It rests on his shoulder for a moment until he flicks it back into place and engages in conversation with the first-year Gryffindors again. Dru's eyes settle on Potter, who seems to be settling into Gryffindor with ease. He looks over at her and stares for a moment, until Nearly Headless Nick says something else. The Bloody Baron tuts under his breath at his actions and settles into the empty seat next to Draco. He lapses into silence and proceeds to stare blankly ahead, ignoring all that is going on around him. Draco cringes away from him, leaning into Dru.
Once the students finish their meals, the food and residue and gravy remains on the plates fades from view, leaving the plates and platters glittering and clean once more. Dru takes her goblet of pumpkin juice and finishes it, pouring herself a new one from the jugs that still line the tables. She looks up at the staff table to see that she can finally see all of them on their raised platform. Professor Dumbledore takes place of honour in the middle, with Professor McGonagall to his right, as Deputy Headmistress. The other staff members stretch out to either side of them. Dru sees Severus Snape- Professor Snape, she reminds herself- and nods to him quickly, glad to see a familiar face from around the Manor growing up. He looks directly at her, but gives her no recognition. After a brief second he turns back to a small, squirrelly looking man who holds his hands close in front of his chest as he speaks. He wears a royal purple turban on his head, and Dru wonders why he's dressed so strangely. Around her, the first-years have dissolved into conversations on blood purity. The girl sitting to her left is strangely quiet as children of the pureblood wizarding families proclaim their purity to the others.
"I'm Draco," Draco helpfully supplies. "Draco Malfoy, of course. We've traced our purity back sixteen generations."
"Blaise Zabini," says the boy opposite him. Dru remembers he was the last to be sorted. His skin is darker than hers and Draco's, a typically Mediterranean colour with big dark eyes and hair such a dark brown it looks black in the candlelight. His hair curls a little on the top of his head, but is cropped too short to be unruly. "We're an Italian family, and we go back at least fifteen generations. We'd go back further I'm sure," he says looking coolly at Draco, "except for the fact that some bumbling idiot sent a spell awry and burned down the Record Room at the old Zabini Villa near Sorrento in the early 1560s. They got the contemporaries on the lists again, of course, but many of the older family members were crossed off the list. Mother and I visit frequently."
Draco smiled politely and offered Blaise his hand to shake. "Fascinating. Do you speak Italian?"
"Sì, per lo più. Volte mi dimentico le parole." He shakes Draco's hand. Seeing Draco's bewildered expression, he translates. "Yes, mostly- sometimes I forget words. English is my mother tongue, and I learned Italian as a child, rather than growing up speaking it."
"Ah. Pleasure to meet you. This is my sister, Druella." He nudges Dru, who turns to face them.
"Dru, if you would. I hate Druella. Pleasure," she says, smiling sweetly and offering her hand to Blaise.
"Blaise Zabini. Druella Malfoy, then, I presume?"
"No, I'm Draco's adopted sister. Dru Gaunt. I'm a Gaunt. I'm told my bloodline is incredibly pure, but I have no family to ask."
"A Gaunt? Yes, I've heard of that name. Your family would be the oldest wizarding family I know of, if they were still a part of your life. It's a pleasure to meet you," he says to her kindly, shaking her hand as he had Draco's. His grip is firm and sure. Dru knows that he's done her a great favour by overlooking the lack of proof she has about her heritage, and that it's probably only her link to Draco as his adopted sister that led him to do so. She's more likely to make friends with the pureblood wizarding families if she has both a Zabini and a Malfoy backing up her claim to the Gaunt family heritage.
Pansy Parkinson, one of the girls from the carriage on the train, is sitting just nearby. "I should hope we are good friends, Dru," she says in a sickly sweet, sing-song tone. She's looking right at Draco, not Dru, and Dru sighs.
The other first-years nearby them introduce themselves, some more reluctantly than others. Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode all claim pure-blood status, and then there is a tiny smattering of muggleborn Slytherins, who all seem somewhat more reluctant to introduce themselves. The girl to the left of Dru is one such girl. When the little group around them turn reluctantly to her, awaiting an introduction, she sighs.
"Rosalee Elizabeth Dark, but call me Lissa. My family call me Rose and I hate it," she says by way of introduction, her gaze sweeping round the group.
"I don't recognise your surname," Millicent says after a moment. "Are you pureblood from abroad?"
"No," she replies calmly, looking every bit as comfortable among their group as Pansy or Blaise. "I'm a muggleborn." Her gaze somehow manages to get incredibly cold, as if challenging anyone to speak against her blood status, although Dru can't pinpoint a physical change in her appearance or body language.
The whole group is silent, weighing up the importance of her presence in Slytherin house against her low blood status. Dru realises that Lissa is shaking and decides to speak. "Dark, huh? That's a pretty good name for this house, I'd say. Do you know how far back the last wizard in your family was?"
"I haven't a clue," Lissa replies honestly, glad for the opportunity to talk. "I didn't even know that there had to be a wizard in my family at some point for me to have magical talent."
"Oh yes," Blaise joins in, obviously making his decision based on Dru's response to the girl. Some of the other muggleborn Slytherins have been entirely blanked from conversation at this point; Lissa is lucky. "The magical talent can lie dormant in muggle bloodlines for centuries. You may want to look into your family lineage. If you're related to a powerful witch or wizard from history, well, it would improve your standing in the house, to say the very least. Dark is a good name for a new wizarding family- it's a shame you're a girl, you'd lose the name if you married."
"I'll have to do that. I think my Aunt has my family tree, one that goes back quite a ways, I remember her saying she'd traced back to the 1600s. Thank you... Blaise, right?"
"Yes, Blaise. It's a pleasure to help. If you have any more questions about famous wizards, I'm sure one of us will be able to answer."
"If you want to look through the Wizarding Register, I think Hogwarts has an old copy in the library," Pansy tells her. She smiles gratefully and then stares into her goblet of juice.
"So, who's-"
Millicent is interrupted by the appearance of the desserts. Dru's eyes widen in surprise. There are blocks of ice cream in every flavour imaginable, kept from melting with Cooling Charms, and apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, jelly, rice pudding, and an assorted selection of fruit. Dru helps herself to a jam doughnut and an enormous slice of apple pie, lifting one of the jugs to find that what was gravy has been replaced with thick cream. She pours an obscene amount over her pie as she bites into the doughnut. Thick strawberry jam drips onto her fingers and she rolls her eyes, wiping the excess off onto her napkin before picking up the spoon and digging into the pie.
"Happy about the pie, Dru? I know it's your favourite," Draco asks her as she takes her first bite. She just mmm's at him and focuses on her food again, trying to work out how best to move to make sure she can secure a position of respect in the first-years' minds. The only link she currently has to ensure any respect from her peers is the tenuous sibling bond she shares with her brother. Sure, Zabini has publicly shown that he believes her claim of pureblood status is true, but that's mostly a ploy to show full respect for Draco, who's firmly in her camp, and also happens to be the heir to probably the most powerful English pureblood wizarding family, now Pavo has decided to disown the family. It's an act less about her, and more about her brother and his power. Dru knows the game well. Draco and Aunt 'Cissa spent hours teaching her it as a girl, and she can play it just as well as anyone. Draco has done her a great favour by introducing her to Blaise Zabini, because otherwise, she was unlikely to be a part of the group at all. She has already pushed what little luck she has in the group by speaking to Lissa instead of outright ignoring her as they had the rest of the muggleborns. Politics has already come into play in the pureblood elitists. Of course, slowly the personal ties would be built and politics would be less about status, Dru knows, but that will take some time, particularly in this group of friends. Even then, there would be battling for power regardless, but eventually the playing field would open up. Or so Dru hopes, at least, as she finishes her plate. She looks up just in time to see Potter clap a hand to what she thinks is the scar on his forehead and wince. She frowns, wondering what could have caused it to hurt.
Eventually, the students all finish their desserts and the plates fade once more to their original sparkling clean state. Professor Dumbledore stands and opens his arms wide once again, smiling broadly at the students.
"Ahem! Just a few more words, now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices for you. First-years should take note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that, too," he says, his eyes focused somewhere on the Gryffindor table. Of course, thinks Dru, it would be Gryffindors that think it's a lark to go into a forbidden forest.
"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, and anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch by the end of this week. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Dru stares at Dumbledore. Some of the students laugh, but they are very few and far between. There is some hissing from the Ravenclaw table as students start to wonder what exactly is in the third-floor corridor that could result in a 'very painful death'.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cries Dumbledore. Dru watches as the staff collectively paste a bland, polite smile on their faces and rise to their feet. Dumbledore pulls his wand out from his robes and flicks it once, as if trying to shake a spot of water off it. A golden ribbon flies out of the end of it and writes the words to the school song in the air above the table.
"Everyone pick their favourite tune," he tells them all with a twinkle in his eye, "and off we go!"
The entire room dissolves into the most discordant cacophony Dru has ever heard, with some students bellowing the song as loud as their lungs will allow and others genuinely singing the words. Dru can hear a soprano voice from somewhere in the Hufflepuff midst reaching a note she's not sure is even possible from a human, so she focuses on the words above Dumbledore's head instead of thinking about it further:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling,
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.
Sleepy and with a full belly, she can't pull a tune to mind straight away, so as Draco sings the song right by her in some tune from a nursery rhyme they heard as children, she simply mumbles her way through the words, speaking them aloud without a tune as fast as she can. The students all finish at different times until the rest of the hall awaits the red-haired Weasley twins, who appear to have chosen an impossibly slow funeral march as the tune for their Hogwarts song. Dumbledore conducts their last few lines with his wand, and as they finish, he is the one who begins the round of applause for them, and claps the loudest throughout.
"Ah, music!" he announces, wiping his eyes with his robe sleeve. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
"First-years! First-year Slytherins, if you would please follow us!" The Slytherin prefects call them over. The boy is a thin, angular creature with a distinctive scar on his left cheekbone and hair even paler than Draco's white-blond. The girl is his absolute opposite, her skin a chocolate colour and her dreadlocked hair pulled back from her face. "We'll wait here until the other years have gone and show you to the Slytherin common room," the girl tells them.
The Great Hall empties surprisingly quickly, and while the teachers linger in the room, soon it is just the four houses' first-years and their respective prefects. They all lead the first-years out. Dru notices that the Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors head up the moving stairs, all bundled together so as to fit on the stairs. Dru wonders where in the upper levels their common rooms are as the prefects shepherd them towards a flight of stairs. The hufflepuffs break away from them at this point and continue further down the corridor. The first-year Slytherins follow the prefects down the stairs and into what can only be the dungeons.
"Remember, guys, you're not going to find the common room unless you can find your way down here. There are markers to show you the way to the common room- the snakes on the torch brackets, do you see them here?" the girl pauses and points them out. The snake is an addition to the black metal brackets that seems to fit perfectly into the design, but is still noticeable if you are looking for it. The snake on the bracket nearest to them has its tail pointing down the corridor, and its head pointing towards the stairs behind them. "If you follow the snakes, you'll find the area with the common room in it. You'll be able to recognise the entrance if you're in the area once you've seen it. There are books, and a portrait of Merlin. He'll help you find the wall if you ask him nicely and he knows you're a Slytherin, but he can't tell you the password, he's not allowed. We look out for our own in Slytherin, and if you get locked out at any point and can't remember the password, Merlin has another portrait in the common room that he'll use to get someone to come out and collect you, as long as there is someone in there."
Dru files the information away as the pair lead them down the corridor. For all that the dungeons seem to sprawl forever with odd twists and spiral staircases down to lower levels- "they're off limits, and I wouldn't recommend going down there, I've heard tales of ghosts and other poltergeists who are less likely to prank you and more likely to... well, just don't go down there, okay?"- Dru realises that she's perfectly at ease knowing the path back to the levels above as she follows the other students round a maze of twists and turns. Anyone else... well, they'd likely to be uneasy at best down here. By now, Dru is so tired she's falling over her own feet, and she has to grab hold of Draco's arm, as he's walking beside her. He's just as sleepy, stumbling like she is, and after a moment- appearances and politics be damned- he grabs her hand. She can feel Lilith sliding round and round her arm, impatiently, but she understands that her mistress can't talk to her right now and stays quiet just as she'd been asked on the train. Just then, she and the others round one last corner into what looks like a secluded reading room. Dru is too tired to look at it properly, but she makes note of Merlin's portrait smiling fondly at them all.
"Welcome to Slytherin!" he booms at them from his comfortable seat in his portrait. Now you're here, I can go in for the night, correct?"
"Yes, sir," the male prefect says, stifling a yawn of his own and running a hand through his hair.
"Excellent. See you inside!" He walks away from the group in his portrait until he vanishes from sight. The clearly exhausted Prefects turn to the first-years.
"Remember the password, guys. Just in case you've forgotten, it will be on the house notice board until it's changed. We change it a couple of times a term, so keep it in mind." The two turn back to the wall just to the left of Merlin's portrait, and in unison speak the password aloud: "Opheodrys vernalis."
The wall shudders backwards silently, and then slides away to the left seamlessly, leaving wide corridor lit by lanterns floating near the ceiling like the Great Hall. Dru follows the others through, and once they are all in the common room, the stone door slides closed behind them. There are the odd few students still up, but for the most part, most of the students are at least shut away in their dorms. The prefects by this point look ready to drop. "Listen, guys. You know at least half as much about Slytherin as we could tell you. We're all shattered," says the boy. "Come back tomorrow evening for your welcome talk, okay? Honestly, it's against the rules but you can cope one day without a welcome talk. Girls' dorms are through the doorway in the dome on the right, boys' on the left. You all know your rooms, right? Good. Right, 'night."
Dru follows the girls round the corner to the right and into one of the rooms for the first-year girls, the one she will be spending the year sleeping in. Once the girls have each picked a bed, the trunks standing in the middle of the rooms levitate into position at the end of each of their beds. She barely even bothers to look at the other girls in her dorm while she undresses and pulls on her black pyjamas that the house-elves have taken from her trunk. The house-elves have also had the foresight to put Lilith's tank out, and return it to its original size from where it was. It sits on the windowsill to the right of her bed. Dru lets her snake slither off her wrist and into it once she has checked the heating spells are still working.
"Mistress takes a long time to put Lilith home," Lilith complains as she slides into the comforting wood shavings and grass on the bottom of her tank. "Lilith is hungry, Lilith is tired of hiding on Mistress' wrist, poor Lilith, so ignored and so lonely, not even permitted to speak..."
Dru ignores the presence of her room mates and decides to reply to her new pet, although she does so by leaning over the tank and whispering as quietly as she can. "Sorry, Lilith, I know it was a long day. Thank you for not disturbing me, though."
Lilith hisses appreciatively. "Mostly Lilith sleeps," she admits. "Mistress is warm. And Lilith is not so hungry really. Many smells, though, in the loud place." Lilith flicks her tongue out. "This place does not have so many smells."
Pansy notices Dru has smuggled a snake in. "You managed to get a snake past McGonagall? Nice."
"Thanks, Pansy. Her name is Lilith, she's a grass snake." Dru is relieved that Pansy either hasn't noticed her ability to talk to snakes, or at least is choosing to overlook it, and is also glad that Pansy seems to think the snake is a good thing. At the minute, any political points she can gain with the other pureblood students is a good thing in her eyes.
Pansy smiles at her, grabbing a sleep mask from in her trunk. "Lilith is a pretty name. I think I'm going to sleep now, Dru. Goodnight," she says to her, crawling onto her bed and sliding under the covers.
"Goodnight." With that, Pansy pulls the curtains on her deep green four poster bed closed, and aside from the others settling in their bed, there is silence.
Dru gives in and gets in bed too, although she's too tired to shut the curtains once she's managed to scramble on the slightly too-high bed. Instead, she settles under the covers, smiling at the fact that the bed is almost as big as her one at home, and is just as soft. The pillows behind her head are fluffy and clean. It takes moments for her to drift into sleep.