Chapter 6
I hopped out of the train without seeing the group of Slytherins again. There was a sea of black, dominated by a large silhouette hoarsely shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"
I was fairly sure I didn't count as a first year, so I headed towards a line of carriages near the gates. Emaciated things that resembled both horses and dragons, things I only recognized from books, drew them. Thestrals. I wondered how the school had managed to tame the beasts.
I hopped into an empty carriage, scanning the crowd. It was dark, and I couldn't even see faces. I nervously twirled my wand between my fingers. It was twelve and a half inches, English oak, dragon hearstrting, and surprisingly swishy. It was carved with the faint images of the tree's acorns. I hauled myself into one of the carriages.
"Lumos." It was dark, and the light from my wand tip flickered across the faces outside the carriage. One, a pale face with a shock of blonde hair and wide blue eyes, turned towards the carriage.
"Oh, sorry, do you mind?"
"No, not at all," I replied, scooting along the seat. One girl climbed in. She looked to be a bit younger than me, in Ravenclaw robes, with unusual earrings that looked like radishes. Based on that, I decided I liked her. "I'm Jack Harcourt. I transferred. Seventh year."
"Funny, never heard of anyone transferring before," she remarked.
"I'm kind of the first one who's ever done it. Um… Yeah. So. Hogwarts. What exactly do I expect?"
I saw the girl looking at me funny. I ignored it, hoping her curiosity wouldn't get too piqued. The conversation lasted the whole carriage ride as I peppered the girl with questions, all the way to the entrance hall. At the end of the ride, she introduced herself as Luna, Luna Lovegood.
A severe-looking witch stood at the front of a crowd of rather small black-robed figures. I stood awkwardly as the other three departed, noticing all of the house uniforms except mine. The witch in front of the first years caught my eye, and curled a finger at me.
"Miss Harcourt."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I am Professor McGonagall. You will be Sorted first. The Headmaster will announce you."
"Oh… Thank you, Professor." I cringed internally. Uncle told me there would be a little pomp and circumstance, but I still didn't want to be introduced in this way. I bowed my head, standing at the back of the group of first years. A few of them were staring at me; a few were whispering; a few I could tell didn't care; but most were fretting about the sorting. I was feeling the same stress. When the doors to the great hall opened, Professor McGonagall motioned for me to go through.
I stared straight ahead, trying not to look dignified and not look around me. The Headmaster I did not recognize- Dumbledore's death shook the Wizarding world to its core, and I didn't know who the replacement was. McGonagall followed me closely, steering me to the stool in the center of the room. The Headmaster seemed to have just finished a speech. He forced a smile at me, his black eyes examining me.
"And now," he said, "For our guest of honor. Joining us this year is Princess Jessica Artemisia Helena Ligeia of the house Harcourt, heir presumptive of the Britain's Wizarding Kingdom."
I smiled, as there was scattered applause. Shuffling up to the stool, Professor McGonagall held up a shabby looking hat. I sat on the stool, and she placed it upon my head.
A little old to be doing this, aren't we?
I smiled sheepishly and thought, I'm a rather recent transfer.
Ah, I see. New blood. Now, let's see… Exceedingly clever… a little lacking in the ambition department… but bravery, there's more than a little in there as well… I think… RAVENCLAW!
The last word was spoken aloud, and a table filled with blue erupted into applause. I quickly sat down in the nearest empty space, next to the girl from the carriage. "Hello, Luna," I smiled. I was terrible with names. She smiled back.
"Hello. I thought you looked familiar." She pulled her plate towards her, filling it up with food. "My father wrote about your parents once. I heard they didn't take kindly to it."
"Oh?"
"He said they were werewolves."
"Ah." I smiled and shook my head. "I wouldn't know, I didn't really know them. I wouldn't mind if they were, though."
"One of our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors was a werewolf. He was my favorite one."
"Exactly. But I doubt they were. I feel like someone would have told me."
"So, Jack," Luna helped herself to a serving of turkey, "If you're the Princess, why do you have an American accent?"
I smiled and started loading my own plate with food. "I was raised in western Massachusetts, and went to school in Salem. After You-Know-Who killed my parents, it was too dangerous for me to stay. My mother's personal bodyguard raised me. I was under the impression he was my uncle. We lived in the middle of the woods, in a five-room cottage. A fair jump from Windhithe, and a rather good hiding place from You-Know-Who. I didn't even know about the whole Princess thing until the middle of this summer, on my birthday."
"Really?" Luna seemed incongruous. I shrugged and nodded, shoveling food into my mouth. The etiquette lessons at Windhithe were forgotten. I was hungry.
I sank into one of the squashy chairs in the common room. It was comfortable here, with high windows and a fire roaring in the fireplace. There was a low buzz of chatter hanging about the room. Most of it was centered on the new Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. I cocked my head and listened. "Wait, you guys have had how many Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers?"
"Since I came… six, one each year. The one before that lasted a while, though. The position's cursed, apparently," replied Luna.
"So you guys ever speculate what's going to happen to the new one?"
A girl in the background scoffed, "Now that's just vulgar."
I laid my hands on the table, summoning a piece of parchment and a quill. "How about a betting pool?"
"That's absolutely terrible." For the horror of the statement, Luna seemed quite cheerful.
"Here's the deal-" The quill scratched against the parchment. "Whoever wants to take part puts a donation in, and signs under what they think will happen. Whatever happens, the money will be divided equally among the people who signed for that particular fate. It's a game that way- you can sign for the most likely one, but if everyone else signs for that one, you get less money. If you sign for an obscure one, you won't as likely win, but you'll get more cash. The categories will be…" I stuck my tongue out, thinking. "Fired, quit, kidnapped, killed, driven mad, arrested or consumed."
"Consumed?" another Ravenclaw asked.
"It's possible."
"We had one who was locked in a box for the year while a fugitive used the Polyjuice potion to pretend he was him," called a younger student.
"Fascinating, but not likely to happen again."
"The first one to go was possessed by You-Know-Who," called another.
"Oh dear, that sounds terrifying. I hope that doesn't happen again, though I am leery of the pair you have this year."
"You better not let them hear you say that," warned Luna.
"I hate to sound cocky, but I doubt they'll do anything too drastic." I shrugged, leaning back into my chair. "Can you imagine what would happen if they hurt me in any way? Why, they would be immediately identified as You-Know-Who sympathizers. Which," I dropped my voice to a whisper, "they may be, but that's hardly supposed to be common knowledge now, is it?"
