Something pokes my cheek, so I grumble and turn over. It pokes me again and I hide my face with my hands.
"Little American girl," A male voice coos, "Time to get up. We're almost at Hogwarts." I open my eyes to find the blond frog-predator standing over me. Everyone in the little room is staring at me; my face heats up and I turn to Anne for help.
"How long was I out?" I ask.
"Most of the trip." She smiles at me and my sudden shift in color.
I glance back at the rest of the party. Yep, they're all still staring at me.
"Did I… talk?"
She nods and giggles.
"What did I say?" Dread quickens my heart rate and I feel the blood in my cheeks. I don't normally talk in my sleep. This is a rare occurrence that only happens when I am very tired or stressed. I am currently both, so this news doesn't really shock me. I just hope I didn't admit that I think the blond is kind of cute …
"Something about revenge and clothing." I cock my head. Anne's face falls. "We were hoping you'd clear it up for us."
I shrug. "I don't know; I was asleep."
I notice everyone is wearing almost identical uniforms. I hug my stomach, feeling very comfortable in my soccer hoodie and jeans. I pull my robes out of my luggage, but don't bother to put them on. Why not just push the envelope a little more?
I stare blankly out the window for the last 15 minutes of the train ride, going over and over my final revenge plan to find and fix any faults. Yeah, I'm a bit obsessive, but everyone has their problems.
Anne grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room-y thing that I still don't know the name of. I see that everyone else on the train is wearing their uniforms. I hug myself tighter and stare at my black Converse. I watch as my new friends make their way to …wherever they're going. I was told to wait for the Deputy Headmaster by the train, so I wait and I don't follow Anne for once.
"Elizabeth?" a voice calls. It takes me a second to realize that this voice is talking to me. People don't usually call me by my actual first name. It's either "Bethany," the occasional "Liz," or my personal favorite, "Hey, you!"
"Yeah?" I answer. The voice seemed close, but I can't seem to find who or where it came from. Movement catches my eye and I look down to see a very tiny man rushing toward me.
"Are you Elizabeth Goldman?" he asks, readjusting his glasses.
"Yeah, but people usually call me Bethany."
He gives me a puzzled look then re-readjusts his glasses and nods.
"Follow me, please," he says, turning and heading toward a horseless carriage that I hadn't noticed before. He starts talking immediately after I get in.
"Welcome to Hogwarts! I'm Professor Flitwick, the Deputy Headmaster. We are so glad you chose to come here!" he says enthusiastically. He starts to say something else but I only catch half of it. The oh-so-familiar nauseous dizziness of motion sickness falls over me. Most of my concentration is focused on keeping my stomach contents inside my stomach.
We get off the carriage and I try to catch my balance. He leads me through the large front doors and into a small room. I close my eyes and try willing the sick feeling away, but it doesn't work. My stomach acid bubbles up with a mix of nerves and lingering motion sickness. It's a good thing that pumpkin thing was all I have eaten today.
"This is the Sorting Hat." I open my eyes to see a huge old hat sitting on a wooden stool. "It will sort you into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin…"
He says some more, but I zone out. I glare at the hat; it gives me the creeps. My gut tells me that this hat will give me nothing but trouble throughout my stay at Hogwarts and my gut is rarely wrong.
"Well, sit down!" Flitwick says happily, a quill and parchment in his hand. This school has a weird old-fashioned feel about it. At LSSM we used more up-to-date equipment, like ballpoint pens and spiral notebooks. I guess that may be because my old school is only about 50 years old. This one was built like … the day the world began.
I sit on the stool and hold the hat on my lap.
"I think I'm going to vomit…" I mutter.
Flitwick gives me a not-so-reassuring pat on the back
"No need to be nervous!" he laughs, "now let's hear what the hat has to say."
I place the old dusty thing on my head and it begins talking to me.
"Ahh … an American," it whispers.
My first instinct is to rip it off my head and throw it across the room, but I think that would make for a very bad first impression.
"An artist too, I see…" I grip the edges of the stool and beg it to work faster.
"Okay, okay…" it mutters, laughing at the obvious fear in my thoughts. It pauses for a second, as if it to take a breath, (for dramatic effect, I'm assuming) then screams, "SLYTHERIN."
I sigh and take it off, placing it carefully back on its little stool. I smile at Professor Flitwick, who looks completely baffled.
"Slytherin, eh?" he says, handing me a few ties and a scarf, all green and silver. "Good luck." He leaves the room and I reluctantly change into my uniform.
"What did he mean by 'good luck'?" I ask the hat, but it just sits there like a normal old hat. I leave that little room and follow the crowd to the dining hall thingy, but I swear I heard that hat laughing at me right before I left.
Everyone is seated, and they are about half way through sorting the little ones. I try really hard to slip in unnoticed, but obviously that isn't going to happen. Anne waves her arms over her head like she's directing traffic and grins at me.
"What house?" she mouths. I sit down silently and she seems to get the point. She looks unhappy and tells Bogo, who gives me a shocked look and proceeds to tell everyone else from the train my placement. They all look at me with more or the less the same reaction. Once all the beginning of term announcements are over, they all walk over to the Ravenclaw table and put money one of the girls outstretched hand. She looks over at me and blows a kiss.
Anne walks over, ignoring the hisses and dirty looks from my housemates.
"In case you were wondering, we bet on you." She says then walks away.
All the other Slytherins give me a who-do-you-think-you-are look, then go back to their food.
"Yeah I figured." I muttered, keeping my eyes glued on my empty plate. I miss my old school already.
