Hey guys, 3rd chapter! If you want to read ahead, I have 7 chapters up on Wattpad, at MrsJaceWaylandHeron so you can check it out there if you want to read ahead. Leave me a review and tell me what you think! (:
To say that the castle was breathtaking would be the world's biggest understatement. It was dark and alluring, but at the same time gorgeous and whimsical. It sparkled under the full moon, the lights twinkling down onto the lake and gently carrying the small First Years across to their new home.
The old spires soared up and cut into the sparse clouds, making it that much more mysterious. Even from this far away, a mile or so, the ancient slabs of stone were prominent; ragged and unkempt in some areas, and smooth in others. The work put into repairing the castle after the Battle of Hogwarts did not go unnoticed by me. It must've taken a while to get everything functioning once more… But it showed the struggles that this place had been through, and overcome. It's the holiest place of learning in the wizarding world, and yet, it feels very homey.
Home. That was a way to put it; it looked so inviting, like it's been waiting for you for years, just to take you in and warm you up. It nearly brought tears to my eyes; I've never felt so comfortable and loved in my whole life, not even in my own home with my family who raised me. It's just… so much more. More than I expected, and definitely more than I am ready for.
The quiet conversations around me are next to nonexistent the entire ride up the cobbled path from Hogsmeade to the school, until it comes to a stop. The carriages end up doing a stop and go in front of the massive wooden doors of the entrance, letting students off carriage by carriage. Finally, ours halts and everybody jumps out.
"Harry?" I ask as he hops out. He turns to look at me up in the carriage. "Can you please…?" I ask awkwardly, holding out Thor's cage. His smile is dazzling as he takes the cat carrier, then offers me a hand to keep me steady as I hop off. Again, with the contact. It's infuriatingly amazing. And his hands are warm compared to mine; I'm surprised they haven't turned blue yet.
"Thank you," I drawl with a shy smile and take Thor back, who is whining and crying in his cage. I excitedly follow alongside Harry, just behind Hermione and Ron, the former chatting about school work. That's probably the last thing I want to think about, even though classes start tomorrow. Yay.
My head cranes backwards and all around me as I gaze upon the cavernous Entrance Hall, the beautiful arching hallways branching off into the castle. I turn around and see a large stained glass window depicting the ruins of an unrecognizable castle. A newborn Phoenix is among the rubble, spreading it's wings for the first flight. It's hauntingly beautiful, like fog receding into the tree line to reveal a crisp winter morning.
"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Harry asks quietly while looking up at the window with me. People push by all around us, but neither of us move.
"It is," I murmur back, sparing a glance in his direction. His green eyes are a tad dewy as he looks up. I return my gaze to the artwork and see a lake, recognizing it as the Great Lake on the south side of the castle. It's Hogwarts after the war.That makes the window all the more beautiful and inspiring; it's the birth of a new era. One without war, without Lord Voldemort, without fear.
In the far corner, among the rubble, are three small figures holding hands, looking over the damage. Almost as if they are the protectors of the castle. The only distinguishing parts are the hair. On figure has black hair, one has red hair, and the last has long, curly brown hair.
The Golden Trio, the Protectors of Hogwarts.
"Whose work is it?" I ask, turning to Harry finally. He looks at me and starts walking again, the wetness in his eyes gone, wiped clean like a chalkboard after class.
"Luna Lovegood. She was a close friend of mine. I'm not sure if she's coming back to finish, but she's been through a lot. She was ridiculed all throughout school, and then she was taken from her home and held hostage…"
"With Garrick Ollivander," I say, remembering reading article after article of everything that happened throughout the war… It was horrifying. That poor girl…
"Yes," instead of continuing the morbid conversation, I turn towards Harry to say bye.
"Thank you, Harry. For everything," I say with a sigh. "Ya know, for helping me in Diagon Alley and all that… and for keeping me company on the train. It was nice." I smile and look down before I can blush.
"Anything for a friend," he says with a cocky smile. "Better get going, the First Years are heading in." Harry points to the group of small eleven year olds shuffling in behind Headmistress McGonagall.
"See ya around, Potter!"
"Amelia," he yells my full name as I am walking away. "I really hope you get sorted into Gryffindor. Remember what I told you in Diagon Alley!" The Sorting Hat will place you wherever you want to go.
With that in mind, I enter the Great Hall alongside the newbies, but I'm sort of in the same boat with them, I suppose. I am completely new to this experience at Hogwarts, but not the wizarding world. Looking up, I can see the night sky, clear and smooth with the moon off in the distance. That's a pretty damn cool charm. The room is even bigger than the Entrance Hall with four long tables, one for each house, running the length of the room. At the far end is another long table, raised a bit higher for all to see; It's filled with older witches and wizards, probably the teachers.
I can see Draco Malfoy to my left, at the silver and green Slytherin table with his snotty smirk and crew of idiots. I mean, I knew most Slytherin's turned out to be followers of the Dark Lord, I didn't think it would be the whole entire student body. There are less than twenty people at that table, while the rest have mostly full tables. That's kind of sad. Those kids were raised by horrible people, so they never got the chance to be themselves. They're guilty by familial association.
I can't help to wonder what the elusive Draco Malfoy is really like, though. He's been the feature of many of the Prophet's exploits, including articles on his family's wealth, his charm and skill as a young wizard, and especially his association with the Dark Lord after the war settled. He's definitely good-looking if you're into the pasty bad boy. And his hair… I'll find out what product he uses by the end of the year; it looks so damned soft and smooth.
Anyways, Professor McGonagall steps up onto the raised platform and in front of a great podium where she clears her throat. In a thick Scottish accent, she begins her welcoming speech.
"Good evening, and welcome back to Hogwarts! I would like to welcome back all returning students, as well as the First Year students.
"You will find that Hogwarts has been through much change in the past year. The war raged on stronger than ever, and Lord Voldemort brought the savagery to our school, pillaging and destroying all that we hold dear. The war is over, and though the castle has been repaired, the memories will haunt us all. We shall not forget our fallen comrades, and we shall not let this war ruin what we have strived to achieve here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We will stand tall, we will stand proud, and we will stand together."
She, as well as many others, including myself, have tears in their eyes. The emotion and power behind her words are beautiful, and though I was not a part of this family throughout the bloody war, I feel as strongly about it as the rest. It was a horrible time. People died and lost family and friends, and yet here they are. Stronger than ever.
"It will be hard, but we will get through this. Together. Your house is your family, and you will create new bonds and friendships, and through that, you will move forward and you will succeed. My dear friend, and our late Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore once said, 'happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.'"
A roar of cheering and clapping and hugging and crying ensues, Professor McGonagall dabbing away her own tears with an old-timey handkerchief. Even I smile through shiny eyes and clap for the sake of clapping, if nothing else.
Nothing else matters but this fresh new moment in my life. A new beginning. A new school year with new people and opportunities, and I couldn't feel more delighted than I do at this very moment in time.
After the chatter and excitement of the speech dies down, McGonagall continues on with her speech, in a much brighter tone.
"That all being said, I believe now would be a splendid time to continue with the house sorting!" Again, students cheer, and clap while the first years look around and chatter nervously.
"Now, we have a few adjustments this year!" She says with a clap to gain attention again. "In order to bring more diversity into our old curriculum, Hogwarts is participating in a foreign-exchange program, and we are currently hosting a young lady in her Seventh Year from America! Now, I'm sure we will all be on our best behavior and treat Miss Amelia Tennant as one of our own. Come, dear, let us begin!" She says warmly and beckons me up to her. I entrust my cat to a sweet little First Year name Madeline who crouches down to pet Thor, and walk up the steps next to the podium and sit in the stool provided.
With the flourish of a wand, an old, dirty, brown pointed hat with a floppy brim is produced out of thin air and McGonagall holds it over my head before gently setting it down. At first, nothing happens. You can hear the whispers of students, but nothing more than that.
Then, a quiet whisper comes as I sit there, waiting for it to do whatever it's supposed to do.
"Well, what is it, then?" The voice is annoyed. I look over to Professor McGonagall, who stands a few feet away with her hands clasped in front of her.
"What?" I mumble back, confused as hell.
"Make up your mind, child! I can't sort you unless you decide," he says. What the hell? I guess I really do get to choose. "I don't have all night."
"How am I supposed to know? I don't really care!" I say.
"Oh, you don't care, is that right? Then you won't mind me putting you in…"
Maybe I should have just picked.
"SLYTHERIN!" Well, fuck. My mouth is hanging open in shock and I can't move until a few people clap unenthusiastically and the hat is taken off of my head. I slowly get up and go back down the center aisle, taking the cat carrier from the first year, and sparing a glance in Harry's direction. He sort of tries to smile but he looks sad.
He probably thinks I'm a lost cause if I ended up here. Why did I end up here? Why Slytherin? I mean, even if it was because I didn't pick, the sorting hat had to have had some sort of predisposition or intuition into my personality. What've I even done to be… to be shamed into this?
I turn away and continue walking down the row, turning to the right and going to the farthest table, where the rest of the Slytherin's sit. They glare at me in annoyance, and I set my face straight. They don't need to know how upset I am; they'll use it against me along with my blood status- I know how cruel these assholes can be- and that's the last damn thing I need.
So, I brace myself and walk along the table with cat in tow, sitting down in an empty spot. Of course, the snickering and whispering continues. It kind of pisses me off. I look up to see that girl from the Slytherin car earlier, glaring at me from a few seats away. She rolled her eyes before turning back to Draco Malfoy and saying something else, laughing obnoxiously. I will not let some pompous bitch do that in front of me.
I get up, leaving Thor there in my seat (there's so many protection spells on him already; none of these idiots could touch him). I stalk over to her and tap on her shoulder, plastering a fake smile on my face and leaning down to her height.
"Excuse me, what's your name?" I ask kindly. She snorts and looks away. "I asked you a question." She looks up again and replies.
"Pansy Parkinson, why the bloody hell does it matter to you, Mudblood?" she snarls. I smile again, then narrow my eyes.
"Well, Pansy, at least you have a fitting name," she looks confused. "Next time, if you have something to say, don't be a little bitch, and come say it to my face. Got it?" I ask, setting a clenched fist on the table and leaning closer to her face. She turns away, looking to Draco.
I look up and meet his amused grey eyes. This is supposed to be intimidating, not amusing… Though, I suppose being Voldemort's puppet makes a seventeen year old girl seem much less intimidating.
"I think you'll fit in here in Slytherin. You've got the attitude, that's for damn sure," he smirks and turns back to a boy on his other side. Pansy whacks him on the arm, hissing his name like he was supposed to scold me or something.
"Keep that in mind, got it Parkinson?" I say loud enough for a few other Slytherin's to overhear. And now, we sit back and let the rumours spread.