Disclaimer: I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money out of it. I disclaim any familiar characters and/or any plots you read that are associated with Harry Potter. All rights go to the amazingly talented author of the books- JK Rowling. Any original plots/ story lines are mine, and any new characters that we may stumble across that aren't mentioned in the book or in the movie are most likely my OC's. This is a work of fiction. If, in any way, it resembles your life or someone's you know, it is purely coincidental.
Chapter 4: The First Sorting
Date: Monday, September 3rd, 1973
Time: 20:30
The travel sickness was soon forgotten about as the friendly company had managed to steer away all thoughts and feelings of uneasiness.
Once the train had stopped, the first years were separated from the rest, meaning the youngest Black was forced to say farewell to her new friend, and were taken to school by magical boats, enchanted to float along the lake.
Nevertheless, it was a beautiful sight. The moon shone down on them and the stars twinkled above. The lanterns of the boats reflected off the still lake, rippling as each boat cut slowly through its black waters. The school itself was a sight to behold. It was a large, medieval-like castle that reached about seven stories high, and was dotted with hundreds of glowing windows. Its magical aura wasn't hard to miss.
Accompanying Hermione were two other witches.
The one sitting on Hermione's right was a shy, Hufflepuff-worthy muggle-born. She had pale, shallow skin and clear, crystal-like eyes that glistened with unshed tears. Her blonde hair was tied into a messy bun with blonde ringlets shooting out into different directions. Poor girl was as pale as a ghost and shaking uncontrollably from nerves!
Her stark contrast sat in front of them- a confident, pure-blooded witch. The girl's family was of both Egyptian and English origin, spanning from hundreds and hundreds of years. Unlike the other girl, she held her composure confidently with her head held high. She also had chocolate brown eyes, rich, olive skin and straight, jet black hair.
However, despite their very different upbringings and lack of similarities, conversation between the three of them, somehow, wasn't at all as tense as she thought it would've been.
"The name's Astrid Neferet," the brunette introduced, hands out towards both girls in greeting.
"L-laverne Des-s-s-coteaux," the blonde sniffed, shakily taking Astrid's outstretched hand. Judging by her accent and surname, Hermione deduced she was French, or at least had a French father.
"Well, Laverne, I think we'll be very good friends," Astrid said happily, not once making fun of the girl's tears. "I've heard about Hogwarts from my brother. It's just simply wonderful! There's no need to be upset, we'll help you, won't we...?" she trailed off, looking pointedly at the other girl.
"Hermione Black," Hermione chipped in.
"Interesting name- Shakespeare, I believe- and a pure-blood- anyway, nice to meet you, Hermione," she said. "You'll help, right?" she then asked, bringing them back to the topic at hand.
Hermione gave a comforting smile to the witch beside her, opting not to hug her in case she jumped from shock. Probably not the best thing to do since they were currently sitting on a boat. "My brothers said that Hogwarts isn't at all scary- companies not bad either- nor the staff," she told.
Laverne sniffed quietly and dragged a sleeve-clad arm over her reddening eyes. "N-no, it's not that- I'm glad to have been accepted into Hogwarts- really I am! It's just Eva and James- my foster parents- I really miss them."
Astrid, not wanting the girl to break into tears, flung her arms around her tiny, shaking frame. "It won't be too long till Christmas. And until then, you've got us!"
Hermione shook her head fondly. She had only just met Astrid but she could tell she wasn't like the other pure-bloods. She was kind of like the Potters in a way. She was confident, yet sweet and loyal to everyone she knew- stranger or not.
"Oh! Look, we're here!" she squealed, peering behind Laverne's back. "Come on you two!" Astrid yanked both of them up onto their feet the minute the boat's side touched dry land. For someone so small, she had the strength of a fully grown man.
/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\
The three girls, and the rest of their class, were all huddled together and waiting.
After being rounded up by a huge half-giant and taken towards the Great Hall, the first years were met by Professor McGonagall, the school's deputy head teacher.
She was a stern, No Trouble woman, with a warm heart. At first glance, she was strict, but really she was like a lovable grandmother who loved to spoil her grandchildren and who cared greatly for her house's welfare.
Gryffindor were lucky to have her.
"Alrighty then. I will call you all up in alphabetical order," she said from memory. "You will then proceed towards the front of the Great Hall where you will sit on a stool and have the Sorting Hat placed on your head to sort you. Any questions?" When no one put up their hands (it was a pretty simple instruction to follow) she started the sorting.
"Abe, Jenna."
Jenna, a tall red-head, eagerly made her way to the stool.
A few seconds passed until the hat's booming voice shouted "RAVENCLAW!" causing a huge round of cheering.
"Abbott, John."
Feeling at soft tap at her elbow, Minerva McGonagall looked down to see a young witch.
"RAVENCLAW!" Another round of cheering.
"Barton, Ella."
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall, but I was just wondering if you- by any chance- not say the name written on the list, but a different one?" Hermione asked.
Minerva looked at the girl calculatingly before shaking her head sadly. "I'm sorry dear. Unless you have adult consent, I can't do anything about it."
"SLYTHERIN!" Roars of delight tore through the Hall's silence.
Then, regrettably on Hermione's behalf, "Black, Ursula."
Hermione groaned, trudging her way over to the stool.
The students (well, most of them) waited in anticipation, wondering where the youngest Black was to be placed. Tension between both Slytherin and Gryffindor tables arose, as each Black brother (and co.) glared at each other, hoping to win their sister's loyalties through house ties.
"Another Black, I see," the hat's echoing voice sounded in her head. "Ah, but not only a Black, but also a Riddle. How… pleasant."
'I aim to please,' she remarked. 'Please don't tell anyone.'
"What takes place between us, stays between us."
A relieved 'Thank you' passed through her thoughts.
"Now, where to put you...?" he contemplated. "Brains and Knowledge is definitely your strong point, yet… you don't belong there. Hufflepuff would welcome you with open arm, but I have a feeling you just aren't right for it… I could always put you in Slytherin- as family is so very important to you," he teased.
Hermione couldn't help but think of her mother and the superior and prejudice thoughts she had drilled into her head at such a tender and young age. But she was so much like Sirius (attitude wise) that it didn't matter, she hated to admit. She never believed in blood-status like her parents.
"Ah, I see. A female version of Mr Black then. Your loyalties definitely do not lie with those cunning folk. So, the only house suitable for you is most definitely… GRYFFINDOR!"
Getting off the stool and rushing towards Sirius' side, she scanned the room quickly to catch a glimpse of a certain Slytherin.
The look Regulus gave her chilled her to the bone and broke her heart.
/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\
Loud, ear-splitting cheers could be heard coming from said house, whilst Slytherins looked on with unhidden shock.
They were so certain Hermione would be in their house.
Regulus Black rarely felt- no experienced- anger.
Not when his mother had killed his pet owl in cold-blood when it returned a letter late.
Not when his potions partner burned his skin raw with a faulty potion by 'accident'.
Not even when his brother told him he was a disgrace for wanting to associate with the superior pure-blooded, green, Slytherin idiots.
He felt betrayed.
His only sister, the only one in his family he actually trusted, had betrayed him. Left him for their elder brother.
He saw red.
Red.
But not at Hermione.
No.
At his blood traitor of a brother, Sirius.
And he was not giving up his sister without a fight.
/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\
Ten agonising minutes passed before Laverne was finally called up and Hermione, throwing the thought of her brother out of her head, sat at the edge of her seat in anticipation.
Lavern Descoteaux, the French, Hufflepuff-worthy, shy girl she had befriended on that small boat just half an hour ago, looked terrified and as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick.
Hermione just wanted to run up and hug her but Sirius, noticing her abrupt movement, stopped her before she could, though, so instead she sent her a huge smile and thumbs up.
The hat sat atop her head for the span of five seconds before yelling: "GRYFFINDOR!"
Well. That was unexpected.
Hermione, still questioning the hat's choice, stood up anyway and roared in happiness like a true lioness at the top of her voice. Laverne sat beside Hermione and hugged her tightly, squeezing the shaking girl with strength she didn't know she possessed.
Very soon after, "Neferet, Astrid", was called up.
Astrid bounced into the Great Hall and sat down on the stool enthusiastically. Her bright, toothy smile stayed put, even as the Sorting hat slid over her eyes, obscuring her view.
"SLY-", came out of its mouth but stopped before it could finish.
Gasps filled the Great Hall and students and teachers alike were wondering what caused the hat's abrupt stop.
Astrid looked tense as she had a mental debate with the magical hat.
/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\
"SLY-"
'No! Don't put me there! I can't! I won't!'
"But, Miss Neferet-"
'You know I can't. You've read my mind. I'm not like my parents- I'm not,' she persisted, stubbornly.
The sorting hat stayed silent as he went over her statement. She wasn't like the her of her family, it was true. She had befriended a muggle-born and a blood-traitor, so no not like her family in that sense. But she still held all Slytherin qualities- the cunningness and resourcefulness and ambition she possessed was outstanding for someone so young!
"Ravenclaw, then? Your ambition can be very useful in that house also," he suggested.
She shook her head grinning, knowing exactly where she wanted to be placed. Hoping her parents would be even more dissatisfied with their children, she asked 'How about…'
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\*/*\\
Not expecting little Miss Neferet to be in that house, were you?
Yeah, me neither. Originally she was meant for Gryffindor, but where's the fun in that? Plus, I haven't read enough fanfics with a Slytherin-worthy, blood-traitor, pure-blooded Hufflepuff, so I thought 'What the heck?' Also, Astrid, although she's just an OC, she has her own story to tell, so that's another reason why she wanted Hufflepuff house and not Slytherin.
Oh and I apologise. I know it's not very realistic, but I tried to base Astrid, Laverne and Hermione's first meeting on what I was like when I was a child. I found it was easier to make friends when I was younger compared to now because, to be honest, before I started secondary school and all the crap that comes along with it, I found it was easier to make friends then than it is now. I don't know why- the awkwardness of the infamous First Greeting perhaps? Or maybe it's the fact that most children are quite naïve at that age. I don't know. But that's how I think it would've gone if it were ever to take place. Which is unlikely.
Okay, so I've been working on this for literally hours and it's now 4am in the morning, I haven't had a wink of sleep, I have guests coming… today, and I can hear birds chirping.
See, never ever listen to music on the computer while you write, because it just gets you distracted and you end up on youtube for hours on end watching all sorts of videos and music videos and vlogs and stuff when you should probably be doing something else more cooperative and fun and revising or some crap and… word vomit done. Lesson learned.
Anyway, this chapter should be posted around sometime this afternoon since that's probably the time I'll wake up, so I hope to get some reviews since I've been going through all this 'pain' for you.
And this Author's note just got way to long, my head is aching and my eyes are stinging as I try to keep them open just to write these last words. Hopefully it'll be up before eight pm. Hopefully.
-Ebony'Wingz