This chapter might be a bit slow, but things will pick up, I promise. R&R please!
Jas jumped when she heard someone knocking at her door. She was unaccustomed to having her own room and thus was unaccustomed to people knocking on the door. "Come in," she called out nervously. It was almost surely SF.
As predicted, SF stepped through the doorway. He walked into her room and perched awkwardly on the side of her bed, while apparently surveying her room. He shook his head and muttered, "Dumbledore."
Jas was momentarily confused until she realized he must be commenting on the decoration. It was true, the palette did not really match the rest of SF's quarters, but Jas found the décor quite pleasing.
"Jasmin, how are you feeling?" SF inquired, fixing his piercing gaze on her.
Jas was momentarily thrown off guard. She was certainly not accustomed to people inquiring after her well-being. "Er, I'm fine," Jas replied nervously. She'd only been in her room for about an hour, what did SF imagine had changed?
SF nodded. "Good. You should eat," he added, flicking his wand, causing a tray of food to appear. "It will remain warm. We will continue our conversation about your past later. The other students should be here shortly. You will take part in the Sorting ceremony and from that point on, you will be living in your House's dormitory."
"What's the Sorting ceremony? And what do you mean, my house?" Jas asked, confused.
"There are four houses at Hogwarts- Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. You will be sorted into one of those houses in the sorting ceremony. You will eat, sleep, have classes with, and relax with your house. Hogwarts, A History has more about the history of the house system, if you're interested," SF explained patiently.
Jas' brow furrowed. "But how are we sorted? Is it random?"
SF snorted. "Of course it's not random. You will see how it is done very soon." He stood. "I'm going to attend to a few things in my office. I will come get you shortly before the ceremony begins. You should put your school robes on." With that, SF swept through the door and out of her room.
Jas sighed and pulled her tray of food closer to her, knowing she would not get any more information out of SF. He certainly was not the chatty type. Of course, neither was Jas, so perhaps she should be grateful. On the other hand, she also wished SF was capable of displaying some emotion besides anger. When he was not cold and indifferent, he was angry. Jas scowled, reminding herself that it didn't matter if he was a sourpuss- what should she care? He was just another guardian who had no real desire to care for her. Nothing had changed.
In fact, she thought, viciously stabbing a piece of kidney pie, it was probably better this way. Not all of Jas' foster parents had been cruel to her- in fact, when she was younger, many of her foster parents were exploring the possibility of adopting after fostering a child. They had been the ones who had been most kind to her and treated her like their family.
Until she made all their vases explode or caused the curtains to go up in flames, anyway.
It was far worse to grow attached to someone only to later be rejected. It had been difficult for her to understand as a child; she did not understand why she was always 'returned' like a faulty Christmas present. After all, she never did anything to intentionally anger her foster parents.
But she'd found it didn't matter; that no matter what she did, odd things just happened around her and she inevitably was blamed for it. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons that she'd ceased caring about following the rules and pleasing adults- it was simply impossible to please adults. And no matter how she tried to explain to them that she hadn't done anything wrong, they never believed her.
So it was far better to have some sort of understanding of SF. Knowing that he did not want her allowed her to quash any hopeful notions she may inadvertently get about him ever doing more than simply tolerating her. In fact, SF barely tolerated her, as far as she could tell. Jas sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was an effect of living on her own for a few months, but she could not help but still wish that she had someone who cared about her- someone to worry about her well-being and who might feel at least a flicker of sorrow if she died. Jas frowned at her lunch. She should stop thinking about these things. It was rather depressing and very nearly self-pity, which Jas strictly despised.
Jas thought she definitely needed to eat more. SF had told her that she was going to be a third-year and she was blending in perfectly with the first-years. For that matter, there were a few first-year boys who were even taller than her.
The other students had given her odd looks when she was dropped off by SF, but they had appeared too queasy to care too much about the strange new arrival. Jas again wondered what the sorting ceremony consisted of. Perhaps she should have looked over Hogwarts, A History after all. Were they supposed to take some sort of test in order to be sorted?
A tall, thin woman with her black hair secured tightly in a bun entered the room they were in. "Now, form a line," the rather severe-looking woman said, "And follow me." Jas fell into a line behind a blonde girl in pigtails. She tried to push away her feelings of unease as the line of students slowly wound out of the small room.
They entered the Great Hall that Jas vaguely remembered being dragged through the previous day. It looked far more magnificent than it had that night, however. The ceiling depicted a dark blue sky with thousands of stars glittering in it. There were hundreds of candles floating near five long tables in the Great Hall: four tables for each house, Jas assumed, and the head table for the staff. Jas tried to ignore the hundreds of students that were staring at the newcomers. For once, she was rather glad she blended in with the first-years.
Her attention was drawn to a raggedy hat sitting on a stool in the center of the Great Hall, between the student and staff tables. To Jas' alarm, the hat broke out in song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan,
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell you where you belong!
(J.K. Rowling's sorting hat song)
Jas blinked. A hat was going to sort them into their houses? And, if she had just heard correctly, it could see into their minds?
She was beginning to think her thoughts would never be safe again, now that she had joined the magical world. SF could read minds, as far as she could tell, and she was sure this meant Dumbledore could as well, and now she found out an old hat could read her mind too?
Good grief.
"Archer, Everett!" the severe-looking witch called out.
A boy with mousy brown hair stumbled forward, sat on the stool, and hesitantly put the Sorting hat on his head. A moment passed, then:
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.
The table with a banner of a badger overhead exploded with cheers and the boy ran off to his new house.
Jas waited patiently while the witch called all of the first-years to the Sorting hat in alphabetical order. She wondered which house she would be in. She did not feel particularly brave or ambitious and she was not sure if she was a hard worker or not. She also wasn't entirely sure if she was 'clever,' either- she liked to learn new things, did that count? Jas chewed her bottom lip nervously. Perhaps the Sorting hat would simply say she didn't belong in any house.
Jas smirked to herself. That was just the sort of thing that would happen to her. SF would probably be angry and convinced she'd sabotaged herself on purpose. She wondered what house he'd been in. Had he even gone to Hogwarts when he was younger? Jas frowned, trying to remember how many schools of magic there were in Britain. She didn't think there was more than two or three.
A sudden thought struck her. What was her name? She was expecting them to use her old name- Jasmin Yates. But SF had told her that her mother's name was Andrea Scott and his name was Severus Snape, so how had her last name wound up being Yates?
Jas suppressed a sigh. There was too much she didn't know. It was annoying. Even more annoying, the one person who might be able to shed some light on the subject was infuriatingly tight-lipped about it.
"Snape, Jasmin!"
Jas jumped. Snape? She walked towards the stool, forcing herself not to shoot a glare at the table where she knew SF was sitting. She hadn't agreed to take his last name! She scowled as a murmuring broke out amongst the house tables. Of course, she thought irritably, I have the same surname as their professor! Maybe I can pass him off as a distant cousin, she thought uncharitably.
Still scowling, she jumped on the stool and jammed the hat over her head. It was larger than she expected and fell halfway down her forehead. Jas almost fell off the stool when a voice spoke murmured in her ear.
"Hm, well this is interesting. Plenty of cunning and survival instincts, you wouldn't make a bad Slytherin. Then again, you're very intelligent… yes, very clever indeed. You would make an excellent Ravenclaw. You've certainly got plenty of nerve and a good heart, though. Gryffindor would be glad to have you. Hm… so where should I put you?"
So you've only eliminated one house? Jas thought rather dubiously. She hoped the hat hurried up. She did not fancy sitting here forever.
The hat chuckled in her ear. "Yes, you are a difficult one, aren't you?"
You could always put me with the smart people, Jas suggested.
"Ravenclaw, eh?" the hat murmured. "Yes, perhaps. Only… I think you would make a better Gryffindor."
You just said I'd make an excellent Ravenclaw! Jas thought indignantly. Had the hat looked deeper and decided that she was dumb?
"Yes, yes, but Gryffindors can be just as smart as Ravenclaws. Yes…. I see it now."
Then, suddenly: "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, abruptly ending their conversation.
Jas took off the hat and wandered over to the table that was cheering, feeling a bit miffed. She was quite certain a talking hat had just read her mind and then proceeded to insult her intelligence. She was not altogether pleased.
She sat down with her new housemates, who were looking her with more curiosity then she would have liked.
"So you're a Snape?" a tall, lanky red-headed boy asked her.
Jas shot him a derisive glance. "I thought that would have been obvious," she informed him primly, still scowling slightly from her conversation with the Sorting hat.
The red-head turned to his neighbor and grinned. "Yep, definitely a Snape."
Jas now scowled at him openly. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
The red-head grinned at her. "Nothing… just you remind me a bit of Professor Snape. Are you two related? Snape's not exactly a common name."
A girl with blonde hair sitting across from Jas chimed in. "Is he like your uncle or something?" she asked, apparently intrigued.
Jas sighed. "I can neither confirm nor deny allegations of being related to Professor Snape," she informed them in a mock professional tone, hoping to avoid further inquiry.
This evoked laughter from two more red-headed boys sitting a distance away from Jas. She gazed at them with interest. They looked to be twins.
"Why didn't you come across the lake with the rest of us?" a first-year girl asked Jas curiously.
This attracted the other student's attention. "You didn't take the boats across the lake?" an upperclassman asked, puzzled. "Why not?"
Jas stared at her empty plate, wishing the meal would be served so the students had something to focus on besides her. "I was already at the castle," Jas said, deciding to stay as close to the truth as she could.
Apparently, this was not a good idea. "You were already at Hogwarts?" another student repeated disbelievingly. "As a first-year? Before term started?"
"Well, I'm not a first-year. I'm a third-year," Jas said, figuring that particular truth would come out anyway when she started attending third-year classes.
"How are you a third-year? Did you skip two years? I didn't know that was possible!" A bushy-haired girl exclaimed, looking affronted.
"Er, no. I went to Beauxbatons for two years," Jas explained.
"So you're a transfer student," someone said.
"I guess," Jas said, again wishing the meal would start. Everyone was staring at her like she was some fascinating specimen on display. "I suppose this means you guys don't get many transfer students?" she joked half-heartedly.
"I can't remember ever getting any," the blonde girl sitting across the table said.
Jas sighed. Lovely. She would be the center of attention for some time, then.
""Welcome!" Dumbledore boomed, silencing the students, to Jas' relief. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. As you will all be aware of their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban who are here on Ministry of Magic Business.""
(excerpt taken from J.K. Rowlings book Harry Potter and he Prisoner of Azkaban)
Jas gaped at the headmaster. Dementors? She shuddered. In France, witches and wizards looked down upon the use of dementors as prison guards. British and American prisons employed the creatures and the French often claimed the dementors would turn on innocent witches and wizards at the first opportunity. How could a school have them running around, on Ministry of Magic business or not? They were dangerous.
Jas blinked, realizing she wasn't paying attention to Dumbledore's speech. He'd just introduced two new professors. Not that it mattered to her- all of them were new, as far as she was concerned.
"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore said. "Let the feast begin!"
Jas gaped again as great platters of food appeared in the middle of the table. There was just about every sort of food- English food, that is- that one could imagine. Although she did miss French food somewhat, Jas had learned to be grateful for any type of food and she took a bit of everything to try.
"So why did you transfer from Beauxbatons?" the blonde girl across the table from Jas resumed their conversation.
Jas chewed her piece of roast beef slowly, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. "I live in England now," she stated evasively.
The blonde girl's eyes narrowed but she shrugged. "I'm sure you'll like it here. Hogwarts is great."
Jas snuck a glance up at the staff table. SF was glaring unpleasantly at a man in patched robes with an unshaven face. She snorted in spite of herself. She somehow doubted she would be able to enjoy herself with SF hovering around her. With any luck, he'd forget about her and ignore her.
"Your English is very good. I would've thought you'd have an accent," a brown-haired boy sitting nearby remarked while he served himself a heaping pile of mashed potatoes.
"I think- I mean, I was taught both French and English as baby," Jas explained. Actually, she was not sure that was true. For as long as she could remember, she had known both French and English, although she had always preferred English. She didn't know who had taught her English or French. She could only assume her parents- or whoever she'd been living with as a baby- had spoken both languages fluently. The group homes and schools she attended tended to be bilingual, so her preferring English had never been an issue.
As the feast was drawing to a close –along with Jas' eyes- Dumbledore bid them a goodnight and Jas followed the Gryffindor prefects towards the common room. She was too sleepy to pay attention to the moving staircases, the chattering portraits, and even the ghost that floated alongside the Gryffindors as they made their way to the common room. Jas absently thought she would definitely need a map. Perhaps she could use the portraits as landmarks. She'd never seen so many enchanted portraits in one place, but Hogwarts was very, very old, after all.
She was led into the girl's dormitory for third-years, where she discovered that her trunk had already been placed at the foot of one of the beds. She supposed SF had been eager to be rid of her. Jas sighed, changed into her pajamas, and collapsed on her bed before her dorm mates had time to interrogate her.
Jas opened her eyes groggily. One of the drapes on her bed had come loose and a stray ray of sunshine was glaring directly into her eyes. Groaning, she tried to jerk the drapes shut, only to have all of the drapes fall off and land in a pile of dust on the floor.
"Urgh!" Jas complained. She rolled out of bed, rubbing her eyes. She considered the drapes on the floor. She didn't have her wand and she didn't fancy trying to fix the drapes by hand. Jas glanced up to see that all of her dorm mates' beds were empty.
Jas blinked, then jumped out of her bed. She grabbed one of her Hogwarts' uniforms out of her wardrobe and hastily dressed, looking around frantically to see what time it was- how had she managed to forget an alarm clock? The bed next to hers had a clock, but instead of numbers, it had what looked like planets floating around the edges. According to this clock, it was Mercury, whatever time that was. With a frustrated huff, Jas ran a brush through her hair, threw all of her books in her bag, and sprinted out through the deserted Gryffindor common room and out the portrait of the Fat Lady that she vaguely remembered from last night.
Ignoring the Fat Lady's yells to slow down, Jas sprinted down the corridor and sped down the nearest staircase. She really did not care to be late on her first day of classes. After speeding down four staircases and running through innumerable corridors, Jas was forced to come to a halt, panting. Where was she?
She spied a portrait of a portly man wearing what looked like riding pants and a frilly white shirt. He was talking animatedly to a woman wearing a hideous-looking peacock hat.
"Um, excuse me?" Jas asked nervously.
The man and woman turned to Jas. "Hello!" the man boomed in a deep voice. "How may I be of assistance, young lady? Are you in distress? You look quite peaky."
"Er- no- I'm lost," Jas explained, looking around nervously. She was not accustomed to talking to portraits and was not entirely sure this was a good idea. She was vaguely aware with the magical process of creating a portrait, but she wasn't sure if they were reliable. "Could you tell me where the Great Hall is?"
"Of course," the man said graciously. "It's a Monday on an odd-numbered year, isn't it?"
"Uh- yes," Jas said, wondering what that had to do with anything.
"Then you just need to take this staircase down, turn right until you reach the statue of Lopgok the Leery, then go left, take the first staircase down, then…."
Five minutes later, the portrait was still talking and Jas was staring at him with a slightly glazed look. "Sir," she finally interrupted, "I'm sorry to stop you, but I've just remembered how to get there. Thank you so much for your assistance!" With that, she turned and sped away.
She may never find her way around this damned castle.