Chapter VI
The Sorting Ceremony
With a final heave, Charlie Weasley hoisted Rapunzel's trunk onto the rack overhead.
"You gonna be alright?" he grinned.
"Yes," Rapunzel replied. "Thank you, Charlie. I could have managed. You didn't have to."
"'Could have managed?' Little thing like you?" he chuckled. "It's no bother. Well, see you at school. Good luck for your sorting." With two thumbs-up and a wink he trotted off down the aisle of the train.
"Thank you, Charlie," Rapunzel repeated, though he couldn't hear her.
Turning, she gazed out of the window where many more students and their families were bidding each other farewell; at least until the Christmas holidays.
Rapunzel felt a sense of longing for her own family, though with the consideration that they had long since passed it would have to satisfy her to dream. She at least had Alan, but he hadn't said much in the way of a farewell. Perhaps, like the Dursleys, he would grow to be glad to be rid of her too.
In an attempt to take her mind off the sight before her, she surveyed the copy of Alice in Wonderland that Alan had gifted to her. From the looks of it it had never been read. No tears, no accidental stains, no dog-eared pages. Still, Alan may well have repaired the book before giving it to her, but from what she could gather about him it didn't seem as though he were the type to do much to books; that he might have simply given it a bit of a dust and given it to her.
In one respect, Rapunzel was apprehensive about even opening it, though curiosity got the better of her and she eagerly began to read, scarcely wishing to break free from the world she became so immersed in.
Of course, at some point, she had to, hearing a knocking on the window of her compartment and hearing it slide open.
"Oh, hello," the boy said. "Do you mind if I join you? It's a bit full everywhere else."
In silence, Rapunzel slowly nodded her head and gestured to the seat opposite.
"I'm Adrian Pucey," he introduced, offering his hand.
Rapunzel was apprehensive about engaging with this boy, however respectful and friendly he seemed. As far as children went, she'd never had much luck in the past and could barely comprehend anyone wanting to be her friend, even if she liked them.
Sensing she was unlikely to speak or shake his hand, he returned it to his side. "I'm sorry if I've offended you." He was hardly a nasty boy and Rapunzel could tell he was attempting to make a friend, though she herself was reluctant to do the same. (She did have the fear that she had both had and lost a friend in the space of five minutes when she was in Madam Malkin's robe shop.)
After a few minutes of awkward silence, coupled with the motion of the train pulling away from the platform and Rapunzel's focus back on her book, the boy spoke again.
"I've never heard of that," he said, a curious tone to his voice, and Rapunzel's eyes cautiously looked at him over the top of her book. "Alice in Wonderland? Is it a good book?"
Not that she was quite so willing to speak, Rapunzel did give the boy, Adrian, a courteous nod. After all, she certainly thought so.
"Is it from our world?" he asked, to which Rapunzel shook her head. "Oh. It's a muggle book then?"
Adrian seemed almost dejected when she nodded. "My parents wouldn't like me reading that. They don't think too highly of muggles. I've never met one, so I don't know." After a short pause, he spoke again. "Are your parents muggles?"
It was at this point Rapunzel realised she had to say something. He must have thought her terribly rude to speak only in gestures. "No," she said quietly.
"Oh, you do speak then?" he smiled, a light entering his dark eyes.
Once more, however, Rapunzel was back to conversing in nods and the atmosphere in the compartment became rather awkward.
"Do you read a lot?" the boy pressed. Slowly, she nodded. "Have you read any of our textbooks?" She nodded again. "What are you interested in learning?"
Adrian was desperately trying to make a friend and Rapunzel knew it, but how could she fully let herself do so when she'd been let down before; not only in the robe shop, but also all through her primary school life?
"Well," he continued, "I quite like the idea of Potions myself, but Mother doesn't think they're very important when we have potioneers to make them. Then again, Father said she's just sour because she was awful at Potions."
Rapunzel, in one vein, could understand that. In fact, Adrian's mother sounded a little like Aunt Petunia — if she had little understanding for something, she didn't have much good to say of it.
For about half an hour the compartment was silent. Rapunzel had returned to her book, as Adrian observed the rolling hills passing by through the window.
"Astronomy," she said, her voice so quiet the dark-haired boy before her almost had to strain to hear.
"What about it?"
"I think I like Astronomy," she smiled, slowly closing her book and resting it on her lap. She had an almost-dreamy expression on her face. "Are we alone in the Universe? What else is out there?"
"Darkness and gas?" he suggested, bluntly.
"It's just so beautiful and mysterious. History's mysterious too, so I think I'm excited to study History as well."
It was the most she had spoken since he had entered the compartment and, regardless of how 'away-with-the-fairies' she seemed when considering her own passions, it was evident the boy was relieved he could communicate with her.
"We did at primary school," she continued. "I used to like History there."
"What's your name?" Adrian asked, now that she had begun talking, however distracted she appeared.
"Rapunzel," she said, still somewhat lost in her thoughts. With so much time spent in her cupboard at the Dursleys over the years she often found herself lost in another world; sometimes without realising it. Of course, her latest seven-week stint had contributed rather significantly, though in Alan's presence she could usually remain focused enough to keep herself grounded.
"Rapunzel? Like Rapunzel Potter?" Adrian seemed quite surprised.
"That's right," she said, without looking at him. "I don't remember what happened."
Adrian's brow furrowed. "I never asked you what happened," he said in confusion, which seemed to snap Rapunzel from her reverie.
"Oh… I'm sorry," she said.
"It's alright. At least your talking now. Let's try it properly," he said, as he cleared his throat. "I'm Adrian Pucey. Pleased to meet you," and he offered his hand once more, which she gladly shook this time.
"Rapunzel Potter. It's nice to meet you too." She allowed herself a small smile, and felt herself turning slightly pink.
"I take it you're a first-year then?" he asked; to which she nodded. "Oh, back to nodding again, are we? Do you know what House you'll be in?"
"No," she replied, after a short pause. "I don't really mind. From what I've read, I don't think any House is better than the others. I think I could be happy anywhere, really. Yourself?"
"Well, my parents are both in Slytherin and I know they'll want me to be there." He sounded quite dejected as he said it.
"And you don't want to be in Slytherin?"
"I don't know. They'll be dead disappointed if I'm not. I'll probably get a howler if I'm not in Slytherin."
"Howler?" she asked. That's something that hadn't really come about in her discussions with Alan.
"It's a very angry letter that screams in your face," he said with a great deal of distaste. "And knowing my luck, I'll be getting them twice a week until I die."
As morbid as it sounded, Rapunzel couldn't help but smile, only for it to widen when an aged lady appeared at the door of the compartment with a large trolley stuffed with sweets.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked, kindly.
Rapunzel did have a sandwich in her trunk, but everything packed on the trolley, however different and mysterious it looked in comparison to what she might have expected to see in a local supermarket, was incredibly tempting.
"Pumpkin pasty, one cauldron cake, two chocolate frogs and a liquorice wand please," Adrian said, with a tone of confidence. "Oh, and I'll have some iced pumpkin juice too."
"Certainly, dear," the smiling witch said, handing over the boy's desired confectionery. "How about you, sweetie?" she asked, turning to Rapunzel, who looked rather puzzled.
"Well… Is there anything you might recommend please?"
"Cauldron cakes!" Adrian blurted out, mouth full of pumpkin pasty. "I only got one 'cause Mother says they make you fat."
Rapunzel hesitated. The cauldron cakes certainly looked inviting, but so did everything else. "May I have a bit of everything please?" she asked, a guilty expression on her face.
"Oh, of course, dear," the witch smiled. "That'll be eleven sickles."
Reaching into her pockets, Rapunzel rifled through the contents. "Would twenty cover Adrian's?"
Adrian almost lost his pasty out of the open window in shock. "What?"
"Please. Just take it," Rapunzel said, offering twenty silver sickles to the older witch, who seemed rather reluctant.
"As you wish, dear," were her last words before she continued on her way down the train.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," Adrian said, as more of a warning than an expression of gratitude.
"I know. I wanted to," Rapunzel said, reminded of her interaction with Charlie Weasley earlier.
"I'm glad they don't sell Cockroach Clusters on that trolley," Adrian said, seemingly disgusted by the very name. "They're revolting. Don't ever touch them. You'll be throwing up for the rest of the week."
Just as Rapunzel was about to try the liquorice wand, Adrian's words served to put her off, as she cast it aside and looked out the window.
"Oh," Adrian said, with a laugh. "Sorry about that. Should have kept my gob shut."
As the train ceased to a halt, Rapunzel moved to pull her trunk from the overhead rack. She wondered how Charlie managed to do it so effortlessly, but he was a stocky teenager with muscles; she was a small eleven-year-old with spindly legs and spidery arms. Of course, she was grateful when Adrian, whom she now considered a friend, was willing to offer her a helping hand. After all, it was only fair; she had bought him sweets.
"I don't know why you didn't just leave it on the floor, Rapunzel," he said, as he indicated his own luggage leaning up against the wall just below the window.
"Neither do I," she replied.
"Out you come, first-years," a girl in robes adorned with blue and bronze called down the compartment. "The groundskeeper's waiting for you. Just leave your things where they are. They'll be in your dormitories by the end of the feast."
Apprehensively, Rapunzel stepped out of the compartment, not quite sure where she was heading.
"You never been on a train before?" Adrian asked, as he walked a short way down the corridor to where the doors were being held open by some of the older students. "Come on, Rapunzel." She followed.
Stepping onto the platform, the crowd of new first-years in their black school robes, all uniformed; not one student standing out from the rest, were met with the sight of a very large, very hairy, bearded man carrying a lamp.
"A giant?" Rapunzel seemed rather intimidated by this man.
"Half-giant, I think," Adrian said.
"For half a giant he seems to be all there," Rapunzel said, prompting the boy beside her to look at her and laugh.
"As if he should come out with one arm, one leg and half a nose," he said. "Maybe we should call him Arthur, 'cause he's only 'Alf-a-giant."
"This way to the boats! Come on now! Follow me!" the half-giant (now cursed with the moniker 'Arfa') boomed, beckoning the nondescript mass of children into the darkness and heading towards a dark lake, where several boats bobbed on the surface. "No more'n four to a boat," he said, as the new students began to file into the small vessels; the half-giant taking one by himself.
Rapunzel and Adrian stepped in their own boat, followed by two other boys.
"Excited?" Adrian said, in a teasing tone.
"Nervous," Rapunzel replied, though she did begin to feel a bit more comfortable when he held her hand, as though he sensed she needed some source of comfort. Somehow he didn't seem to feel repulsed at the thought of even touching a girl, let alone holding her hand.
"Onward!" the half-giant boomed once more, as the small boats gently pulled away from the dock and across the lake.
As the new arrivals caught sight of the grand building before them, the castle itself was met with a chorus of awe and wonderment, as the students began chatting excitedly to one another.
Rapunzel, however, remained quiet, so moved was she by the sight of what was to be her new home; not only for the next ten months, but also until she came of age. She'd be an adult by the time she left and would never have to burden the Dursleys anymore. Of course, that was so far in the future that there was little point in thinking about it now, so simply kept her focus on the beauty before her eyes.
With little warning, the night sky fell darker still, as the stars disappeared and Rapunzel wondered if, with her hindered vision, she'd gone blind. As she began to panic, Adrian rested his other hand on her shoulder.
"No need to panic. It's just a boathouse." He seemed confused, but she hadn't told him of her eye issues and it didn't really matter much to him if she could see or not anyway.
"Out yeh get!" 'Arfa' called, as the new students abandoned the boats, and were led through a small archway and up a series of stone steps, many panting for breath after the first three flights.
Passing through a courtyard with an ornamental fountain, a loud rumble was heard, as two grand doors separated to permit the first-years entry.
They found themselves in a small room, as the half-giant left the scene.
They weren't waiting too long, however, as a stern-looking woman with rectangular spectacles and hair high in a tight bun, wearing emerald green robes came into view and scrutinised the large group.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she introduced. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Now, in just a few moments you will pass through these doors," she said, indicating another set of double doors, these more ornate than the outer ones, "and join your new classmates. However, before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your Houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
Rapunzel recalled the Houses, of course. They were mentioned in one or two of the books Alan let her read. "Now," the woman, Professor McGonagall, continued, "while you are here, your House will be like your family, your triumphs will earn you points; any rule-breaking and you will lose points. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up. Please wait here," she finished, striding off through the golden doors. Professor McGonagall certainly seemed to Rapunzel like a teacher she'd rather not cross.
The new students, almost to a person, hastily began fixing their attire. They had to look at least remotely presentable. Rapunzel, however, perhaps felt more self-conscious than most. In fact, she felt quite sick and had to suppress the bile rising in her throat. (Whether it was genuine nerves or too many sweets, she didn't know.) Adrian muttered something to her, though she didn't seem to have heard him.
A few moments later, Professor McGonagall returned. "We are ready for you now. Form a line and follow me." Quicker than any of them could blink, she had already turned on her heel and strode back through the big golden doors, followed by a somewhat-wonky line of eleven-year-olds.
The large room they had entered, the Great Hall, was cause for another eruption of awe, as students gaped open-mouthed at the ceiling, enchanted to reflect the sky outside. It was a sight Rapunzel might easily get lost in, as she had done so even through reading Hogwarts: A History.
Candles gently floated high above five long, wooden tables, and banners honouring the four Houses hung proudly overhead.
The group stopped before a three-legged stool, atop which sat a battered old wizards' hat, that might easily be centuries old — indeed, it had certainly seen many a child's head. Grimacing, Rapunzel pondered the likelihood of an epidemic of nits in the coming school year.
"The Headmaster would like to say a few words," Professor McGonagall said, as the bearded, bespectacled man in question rose from an ornate golden chair. (There was certainly a lot of ornamental furniture at Hogwarts.)
"Welcome, students, new and old," he smiled, rising from his golden throne, arms spread in a gesture of acceptance, as he surveyed the contents of the table (and the several adults sitting there) "and, indeed, some older even than that, to another year at Hogwarts. I would first like to introduce you to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alan Lowe." At this, Rapunzel stood agape, as her eyes quickly found the man in question, who winked at her, a gesture that went unnoticed by the majority.
"You never told me," she whispered, in complete shock.
The Headmaster continued. "I must also remind you all that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students." His tone had been so serious that Rapunzel wondered just how safe the school actually was.
As he sat, Professor McGonagall stepped forward to speak once more, seizing a scroll from the stool, which, when unrolled, tumbled to the floor. "When I call your name, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your Houses."
Rapunzel didn't pay too much attention to the Sorting. Oddly enough, she was possibly more fascinated by the teachers. There was Alan, of course — or Professor Lowe, as he would be known to her now. To his left sat a female teacher with wild hair and large glasses, who looked increasingly uncomfortable; as though she'd rather be hiding in a broom cupboard than on display.
On his right sat a sour-looking man clad all in black, perfectly matching his equally-dark eyes and long, seemingly-oily hair. On his face was etched an expression of loathing, which Rapunzel could hardly deny was intended for her. It were as though her very gaze made him so uncomfortable he had to somehow protect himself, lest she harm him in any way. To some he might have appeared unsavoury, but, having spent so many years living with the Dursleys, she pondered that perhaps the way he was raised had something to do with his demeanour. (After all, until Alan graciously accepted her, she had been deemed unsavoury herself by the majority of people she encountered.)
Respectfully, Rapunzel averted her gaze and continued observing her teachers. Of course, the empty seat to the Headmaster's side, she decided, likely belonged to Professor McGonagall, who had just called "Diggory, Cedric" forward, who left to the cheers at the table decked in yellow and black, as he was announced a Hufflepuff.
Rapunzel noticed a small wizard with white hair and a white beard, who may likely have been sitting on something, just to see over the table. In contrast, right next to him, sat the half-giant that had led her and her fellow first-years from Hogsmeade Station.
There was a male teacher who looked a little worse for wear, as though he'd lost many an appendage to some sort of violent animal.
Three female teachers sat to his right in succession, two rather stern-looking; the third with more of a calm appearance about her and, at her side, sat a nervous-looking young male teacher with a head of mousy brown hair, who seemed to be quivering in his boots.
As she continued to look around the Great Hall, watching people, she was jerked from her thoughts by a deliberate nudge. Looking to the source, she spotted Adrian, who was beckoning with his head to the stool.
"Potter, Rapunzel."
She hadn't even noticed the whispers circulating around the room.
Precisely what she was supposed to do, she didn't know. She hadn't been paying attention to her peers. With a gentle nudge from Adrian, the girl nervously approached the stool. Cautiously, she sat down, as though she might have been impaled by a poker if she did so any other manner. Slowly, she felt the grubby hat balance itself precariously on her pigtails, and heard a voice speak to her; a voice she alone could hear.
"Ah, well isn't this interesting?" it said.
"Are you talking to me?" she responded, nervously.
"Who else is listening?" It must have been the hat, she decided, and a somewhat sarcastic hat at that. "Very interesting mind here. I see loyalty is high on your list of values; knowledge too. Oh, and courage, yes."
"I'm not very courageous," she said.
"Courage needn't be at the forefront," the hat informed. "Ah, but I see ambition too."
"I'm not very ambitious, either."
"Oh, I beg to differ. There's something else here. Yes; something I can't quite place. Your mind is not unlike one I encountered many moons ago, yet is also very, very different. Where to put you…" The hat trailed off.
"I don't really mind where I'm placed, Sir," Rapunzel said, "but if you take requests I think I'd like to go to Hufflepuff."
"Hufflepuff, eh?" The hat seemed to ponder her fate. "The loyalty is there; the fairness, kindness, the hard-working nature, but perhaps Hufflepuff is not for you. The courage of Gryffindor shines through, but you don't belong there either. Ravenclaw? Creative, intelligent, a thirst for knowledge? Most definitely. But there is something else. Oh, yes. Yes, I know exactly where to put you. SLYTHERIN!" it cried, triumphantly, as the table decorated in green and silver burst into thunderous applause and cheers. Exclamations of glee at having the 'Girl-Who-Lived' in their House erupted, as a very nervous Rapunzel stumbled off the stool and headed in the direction of the Slytherin table, exceedingly uncomfortable at the attention.
At the teachers' table, Rapunzel shot Alan a forlorn look, though he didn't appear to be upset with her in the slightest, as was more than evident in his smile. The man beside him, however — the man in black — looked increasingly irritated; even disgusted. She didn't know why he appeared so upset with her, but she could handle his annoyance. With any luck, he may ignore her like Aunt Petunia did that same morning. Of course, she didn't know him, and without the emotional attachment to him, like she had with the Dursleys, he surely couldn't truly hurt her.
Considering the time she spent under the Sorting Hat herself it seemed as though Adrian was sorted in a split second, as he plonked himself beside his new friend.
"So we meet again?" he whispered, teasingly, though his tone immediately turned serious. "Best friends?"
Aside from Alan, Rapunzel had never had a friend, but she had spent the entire train ride with Adrian and she did like him. He certainly seemed friendly enough to her at the time. Of course, if he remained loyal to her, as she would to him, then she could only imagine they would be. "Always," she whispered in response.
Adrian continued to watch the Sorting, while Rapunzel focused on the dour man at the far end of the teachers' table. He looked utterly furious; as though he might be able to kill her with one look if he glared hard enough, though it were just as possible for Rapunzel's imagination to be working overtime.
As scenario after scenario entered and left her head, from the blurry corner of her eye she saw the Headmaster rise. "Let the feast begin," he announced, and, with a clap of his hands, all five tables were suddenly laden with silver platters hosting all manner of meats, water goblets filled with some sort of orange liquid, not unlike the pumpkin juice Adrian had on the Hogwarts Express, ceramic bowls stuffed with vegetables, gravy boats and small pots of apple, cranberry, horseradish, mint and tartare sauce.
With the Hall now engaged in chatter and many of her fellow students piling their plates up with food, Rapunzel sat in silence.
"Not hungry?" Adrian asked, bluntly, reaching for a chicken leg.
Truth be told, Rapunzel wasn't quite so hungry. She had eaten a lot on the train, including the sandwiches she'd bought before the journey, and she wasn't normally used to eating so much, unless Alan decided she needed fattening up during the day. In the same vein, however, she couldn't help but feel guilty for not eating, not wanting to seem disrespectful to the person, or persons, who made the spread available to all.
"Who put this together for everyone?" she whispered, in awe.
"House-elves," a feminine voice sounded from beside her, absently crunching on a piece of pork crackling. "They cook and clean everything 'round here."
Rapunzel turned her head to the girl. "Do they mind?"
"They don't complain. I swear, the moment they get freedom is the day the Dark Lord returns."
The Dark Lord. He was the one responsible for the deaths of Rapunzel's parents and the recently-announced first-year Slytherin felt a sudden surge of sadness overcome her once more.
"You're her, aren't you? The Girl-Who-Lived?" an older boy asked, excitedly, leaning across the table.
Rapunzel could only nod. She didn't feel exceptionally comfortable having eyes on her or people talking about her.
"How did you survive?"
"What does the Dark Lord look like?"
Such questions, and others of their ilk, were coming at her from all directions, making her feel acutely uncomfortable.
"You've got Killing Curse eyes, you have," a teenage student said, matter-of-factly.
Rapunzel wished only to sink under the table in that moment, or for the ground to swallow her whole, or for one of the ghosts now flying wildly around the Hall to kidnap her for immoral purposes or something. She didn't answer their questions or respond to their statements. How could she? They were grossly upsetting and she had to fight the urge not to cry, expecting them all to laugh at her if she did.
"Leave her alone," Adrian growled, sensing his friend's discomfort.
"Aw, is this your boyfriend, Firstie?" a sneering girl mocked.
"Leave her alone. If she doesn't want to talk, she doesn't have to."
However grateful Rapunzel was to Adrian for taking a stance against the nameless older Slytherins she still didn't say anything. She'd surely thank him later.
By the end of the feast, Rapunzel had somehow managed to ostracise herself from her peers. A vast majority of the Slytherin students at that table had turned their noses up in her general direction when she finally decided to speak. Apparently, the fact she was raised by muggles in a muggle town was more than enough reason to snub her.
Still, at least, she didn't seem to have offended Adrian too greatly, who remained by her side, even as all the students filed from the Great Hall and the numerous new first-years were led to their respective common rooms by their prefects.
Despite Adrian's company, Rapunzel did consider it a rather lonely trek from the warm atmosphere of the Great Hall to the Dungeons, where the Slytherin Common Room was located. It felt cold and damp; perhaps not so unlike her cupboard at the Dursleys.
Rapunzel heard a faint "Alihotsy" from the leading prefect, who, shortly after speaking, clambered in through the now-open portrait hole; the first-years following.
A somewhat long speech had followed, including even a seemingly-glorified character assassination of the Head of House, Professor Snape. Of course, Rapunzel didn't really know who this man was, though she rather hoped it wasn't the man in black who seemed to host such a distaste for her, for how was she to fare under the scrutiny of a wizard who held no tolerance for her?
"I have Alan," she reminded herself, in a whisper not even Adrian heard.
Rapunzel wasn't quite so interested in the gloomy Common Room; she really wished only for her bed and a chance to remove herself from the inevitable interrogation that was to come from the other first-year girls, whom she was to share her dormitory with.
Just as soon as the prefect finished her speech, Rapunzel made her way straight to the dormitory and, finding the trunk with her name on it, changed into her new nightdress and lay flat on the bed like a cardboard cut-out.
She could hardly say the bed felt uncomfortable, but she was used to sleeping on a cold floor in a cramped cupboard with nothing for warmth.
Still, she managed to avoid conversing with the other girls; a perk, she considered, having curtains around the beds.
Once the Slytherin residents had retired to their beds, however, Rapunzel made her way back down to the Common Room; searching for somewhere to sleep. It had to be a place out of the way where no one would find her should they have been curious enough to look for an oddball first-year.
Despite the cold, damp atmosphere of the Slytherin Common Room, she did feel a little more comfortable without the presence of others.
With tepid flames emanating from the stone fireplace, she found a spot under a desk by the large window. In the hope that it was unlikely to cave in and drown her, she eventually fell asleep to the sights and sounds of the Black Lake (which, from beneath ground level, erred more on the dull emerald side than the declared 'black') she and her classmates had sailed across earlier in the evening, an array of magical creatures swimming past every now and then, some in greeting, others in disgust.