Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Better Be Slytherin
By the time we reached Hogsmeade station, it was raining. And not just a light drizzle. The older students ran for the carriages, holding their robes over their heads as if they were umbrellas. While Hagrid stood in the middle of all the chaos, bellowing for the first years to come towards him. Unlike with Ron, I didn't linger behind to try to spot Ginny and make sure that she ends up where she needs to be. Ginny does have a little more sense than Ron. She should be fine. That's what I tell myself as Fred and George loop their arms through mine, and we run. Not even bothering to cover our heads. It's nothing a hot-air charm can't fix. Lee follows us. He raised the back of his robe completely over his head as we made a break for it. If there is one thing Lee absolutely hates, it's getting his hair wet.
With everyone scrambling to reach the carriages there was more of a delay than usual. But we managed alright. When it was our turn to load into a carriage, I was the first one in. In their haste to get somewhere dry, Fred and George practically picked me up and shoved me inside. Lee clambered in last, snapping the carriage door shut behind him. We sat similarly as we had on the train, except Lee and George were reversed. "Merlin", George laughed; still energized from his win. He shook his head, sending little droplets flying around the carriage. All of us were too wet to mind. "I'd hate to be a first-year right now. Imagine crossing the lake in this", he said, gesturing out the window to the downpour.
Shrugging, I fished out my wand from my robe pocket. "Welcome to Scotland", I said before casting the hot-air charm on myself. Immediately shivering when the blast of hot air came into contact with my skin. Lee, of a similar mind, did the same. Rain was common enough in the UK. But, still, to have a big storm on the night of a sorting felt a bit ominous.
Seconds later, Lee and I were dry and we turned our wands on Fred and George. Fred snickered to himself as the water evaporated from his clothes. "Poor Gin. She's going to look like a wet dog by the time they make it to the castle".
My lips quirked upwards as I agreed with him. "This probably isn't how she imagined her first night at Hogwarts", I added.
A roll of thunder erupted, shaking the carriage as Lee and I finished drying Fred and George. "Gin better be careful", said George. "If she isn't, Percy might try to force a pepper-up potion down her throat".
Lee snorted. In a far better mood now that his hair wasn't in danger. "Do you remember when Charlie made Percy take a pepper-up?" He asked. The question had all of us grinning. That had happened during our first year. At the time, Percy was a third-year, and Charlie was a sixth-year. Percy has always been able to zero in on one thing and ignore everything else. Including his own needs. He could zone out over a jigsaw puzzle, a book, or when writing an essay. During midterms in our first year, Percy had completely engulfed himself in studying. So much that he had a book open at mealtimes and black bags had started to form under his eyes. Charlie, always one for more gentle approaches, had first asked Percy to put the book away when eating. And he started to ask Percy to go to bed when he studied past ten o'clock. When nothing worked, Charlie had poured the pepper-up potion he had brewed for revision into Percy's pumpkin juice at dinner and then marched him to Madam Pomfrey for a lecture on self-care. It had made our day to see the usually so mature Percy being bossed around by our older brother as steam blew out of his ears.
"Maybe we should do the same to Ron", I said.
"If only to keep the tradition alive", Fred agreed.
By the time we settled into the great hall, the storm had grown to include lightning as well as thunder. The hall was dimmer than usual with the clouds blocking out the stars and the moon. With the same being reflected on the enchanted ceiling, it was hard to make out details from the other side of the room. Looks like it's going to be dinner by candlelight tonight. The rain was throwing me for a loop. In the book, it hadn't been raining when Ron and Harry had crashed the car into the Whomping Willow. And I couldn't for the life of me think of a reason that would cause the weather to change. Unless, if it simply hadn't been stated that it had been raining. Or maybe it did and I'm thinking about the movie.
A low murmur, suited for the ambiance of the hall, spread throughout as staff and students filed in and talked amongst themselves. Talking was the only thing we could do as we waited for the first years to arrive. Across the way, I could see Ron had his head bent together with Hermione and Harry. Faintly, I could make out the bushy-haired witch gushing about their new celebrity teacher. Wincing, I turned my attention to the staff table on the dais as Oliver Wood engaged my brothers and Lee in a discussion about quidditch. Apparently, when you steal his playbook, you are inviting him to talk your ear off about the sport. Lockhart was sitting amongst the members of staff. He was talking to Snape like they were old chums; seemingly unaware of how pained Snape looked to be in his presence. It made me wonder about what Lockhart had been like as a student. From Jessie's memories, I knew that he had been in Ravenclaw house. But had he gone to school when Snape would have still been a student? Snape looked a little older than Lockhart but not by too much. Though I doubt either teacher would tell us their age if asked. It was also nice to see that Lockhart wasn't planning on making some sort of grand entrance, considering that he was already seated at the table. Maybe he still had some respect for Hogwarts' tradition of sorting students.
Feeling eyes on me, I glanced over my shoulder. Looking past the Hufflepuff table, I lock eyes with the one Slytherin who doesn't look at the Gryffindor table with disgust. Caught in the act, Adrian smirked and nodded his head to his right. I have to look three seats down from Adrian before I see what he was gesturing to. Stimpson was sniffling into her empty dinner plate with her shoulders shaking. Merlin. I snorted and turned back around. I guess that means she remained upset for the entirety of the train ride.
We didn't have to wait too long. The double doors opened with a creak loud enough to draw everyone's attention. With McGonagall leading the short figures wearing black, identical, and drenched robes in the dim light, it looked more like a funeral procession than the welcoming of a new batch of students. Still, Ginny was easy to spot as the only redhead in the bunch. Side conversations puttered out as McGonagall stepped up onto the dais where the sorting hat was waiting on top of a stool. The sorting ceremony was such a ritual at Hogwarts that students never needed to be told to quiet down before it started. We just knew it was important to pay attention as we all remembered what it was like to be a first-year standing in the hall for the first time.
The hat sings its song; very similar to last year's version. We all clap and McGonagall calls the first name. Colin Creevey, who surprisingly did not have a camera in his hands, is the first to be sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood practically glides to the sorting hat when her name is called. Very quickly, the hat announces that her home away from home is with Ravenclaw house. Besides Ginny, those are the only two names I care enough to recognize. The sorting passes the same as always. Children are called one at a time, their house is announced, and the corresponding house table cheers. As the crowd of first-years thin, Ginny was able to spot the other redheads at Gryffindor table. She waves happily as if to say 'save me a seat'. Only Fred and George wave back. But it's enough to appease Ginny, who grins and faces forward once more. This year, there are no Zabini's waiting to be sorted. Making Ginny wait to be the very last one to be called. I understood how maddening it was to be last. I had been the last to be sorted in my year. I'm not sure what had been worse. Being the last one standing in the Great Hall for everyone to stare at, or watching Fred and George going ahead of me and worrying that we wouldn't be together. When Ginny's name was called, she rushed forward; eagerly sitting on the stool as soon as she reached it.
Poised as always, McGonagall takes her time as she places the hat on top of my sister's head. It slides down, covering her eyes. My stomach grumbles. I can't wait for this to be over so the feast could begin. But just like last year with Ron, the sorting takes longer than I thought it should. The sorting hat barely brushed Ginny's head before yelling out Gryffindor. And it didn't sit for a couple of minutes like it had with Ron before announcing the same conclusion. Slowly time ticked by, and only a random singular cough disrupted the silence. I shifted in my seat. What could possibly be taking so long? I asked myself. I had told Ginny the secret to the sorting hat that day in the hospital wing after my second seizure. And I knew that she wanted to be in Gryffindor. She told me herself. But the longer time passed, the surer I was that something had changed. Something right under my nose. It was unclear if the change was in the sorting hat (like it was no longer taking requests) or Ginny herself when the hat loudly proclaimed, "Slytherin!"
It was the quietest response to a sorting. The receiving house barely applauded as the Gryffindor table broke out in quiet murmurs. I think our table might have actually been louder than Slytherin. As far as everyone knew…. Hell, as far as we knew, a Weasley had never been sorted into Slytherin before. I think we might have one great uncle who had been in Hufflepuff, but other than that we were a scarlet and gold family. My eyes flashed to Fred and George. The two of them looked just as shocked as I felt. Ever since seeing Gryffindor tower last year, Ginny had talked about how much she was going to enjoy living there. From the four-poster beds to the warm fireplace in the common room. Everyone, from Mum and Dad to me and Ron, had just assumed that she would continue the Weasley's lion trend so we encouraged it. We hadn't even bothered to get Ginny more than one plain black robe to be magically charmed to match her house. Instead, her trunk was filled with the uniforms I outgrew. There was red trim on her stockings, on her skirts, and on her robes. She even had a collection of different Gryffindor ties that had belonged to many of her different siblings. We hadn't prepared her at all for any possibility other than Gryffindor. How the bloody hell was I going to fix this?
I reached up and tangled a hand into my hair as McGonagall reined in her surprise. This would be the only offspring of Mum and Dad that she didn't have in her house. She probably had been expecting the same outcome as the rest of us. McGonagall removed the hat from Ginny's head, revealing a tear-streaked face to the Great Hall.
Oh, Ginny. She sat frozen on the stool, staring straight ahead without actually seeing anything. It took McGonagall resting a hand on Ginny's shoulder to get her going. And she moved as if the floor was invisible under her feet. A clap of thunder sounded and a flash of lightning dashed across the bewitched ceiling. Still, the hall remained silent as Ginny made a slow trek to the Slytherin table. It was like she was being exiled to the dark corners of the world. Until one person started to clap; breaking my eyes away from the painful sight of Ginny.
From his spot at Slytherin table, Adrian had stood up. With his front turned towards Ginny, he beat his hands together as loud as he possibly could. His face was stone, and his body stiff as he made himself known to the entire school. At that moment, Adrian served two purposes. First, he served as a reminder to his house that they were currently in public, participating in a school event, and rather or not they approved of Ginny as a housemate, certain behaviors were expected of them. At a snail's pace, the clapping grew to hesitant applause as other Slytherins joined. Mostly, it was Adrian's quidditch teammates supporting one of their chaser's decisions. It was mildly horrifying to watch Marcus Flint stand up across from Adrian and applaud my little sister. Some of the new first-year Slytherins, the ones who didn't know any better, and the upper years that considered themselves to be above the drama of the younger years followed suit.
Adrian's second purpose was to give Ginny a focal point; acting as a beacon to my little sister who had unexpectedly found herself lost. Adrian continued clapping until Ginny reached the table. Before she could sit with the other first-years, leaving herself at their mercy, Adrian beckoned her over to his side with an open hand gesture. Ginny's steps were uncertain at first before she was speeding to his side. I don't blame her for the rush. Adrian's face would be the only familiar one at the table. The only one that Ginny knew for sure wouldn't be unkind to her for coming from a family of blood traitors.
At this point, McGonagall had retreated with the hat and the stool. Dumbledore stood up to bring the hall to order for his welcome speech. But other than quick glances to the front, I kept looking over my shoulder. I watched as Adrian supported Ginny as she climbed over the bench to sit down. He only resumed sitting once she was. Though he kept an arm over her shoulders, whispering to her until she appeared to respond. As Dumbledore started to list off Filch's friendly reminders concerning contraband, Adrian glanced back at me. Solemnly, he gave me one long nod. A silent promise that he was handling whatever this was. And, for now, it would have to do.
Gryffindor Tower doesn't feel as warm as it normally does. Which I know is ridiculous. The fire is burning bright in the common room as it always is. The couches and armchairs are just as plush as ever, and the students are amicable as they have always been at the start of term. Still, it felt like there was a crucial piece missing. Fred, George, and I head up straight to their dorm without any of us talking about it beforehand. We leave Lee behind, and I forgo the usual gossip catch-up I have with Angelina and Alicia in our dorm. The luggage has already been delivered, as evident by the sight of Fred's and George's trunks sitting next to the foot of their beds. Without prompting, I sit on top of George's trunk and slump my shoulders. This is all my fault. I can't think of a single way that it isn't. Fred digs through his trunk and pulls out a familiar wad of parchment as George sits behind me, on his bed. "I thought you said-" George started.
I cut him off so he doesn't have to be the one to say it aloud. "I did say Ginny would be in Gryffindor. She was in Gryffindor".
Meanwhile, Fred was tapping his wand to the wad of parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good", he said.
I cupped a hand over my nose and mouth and shook my head; lost in my thoughts. "Ginny… She looked devastated". I said to no one in particular as Fred watched the map reveal itself.
George placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. A kind gesture that I didn't deserve. "We should write to Mum and Dad", he said as Fred unfolded the map, looking for something specific. "Tell them what's happened. And some of Mum's baked goods would probably help Ginny feel better". I shake my head again, not really agreeing or disagreeing. If only baked goods could solve all of life's problems.
"She's in the Slytherin common room", Fred announced as he came over to show both of us the map. "Pucey's with her", he said, pointing out the two labeled dots to us. That did make me feel a little bit better. This would have been so much worse if Ginny hadn't known anyone from Slytherin house. "So, what do you think changed?" Fred asked.
George had to squeeze my shoulder to get me talking. "No idea", I admitted. "It could have been something that happened recently, like introducing Ginny to Adrian or intersecting the diary. It could be something that happened long ago, like-" I waved my hands to suggest just how infinite all the possibilities were. "Like we said something to her that made her grow up different. It could be something that happened before she was even born, like me. Either way, you look at it, the only changed variable is me messing with the order of things!" I dropped my head in shame. "I know we're trying to do the right thing. But we destroyed Ginny's life. I destroyed Ginny's life. She won't get to be on the quidditch team, she won't be able to become a professional quidditch player, and she won't get close to Harry. She probably won't marry him now that she's a Slytherin". I stopped just long enough for that thought to sink in. "Oh, merlin. Because of me, Ginny's not going to get to live happily ever after with the love of her life. It's all my fault". The comforting hand on my shoulder left and instead decided to harshly pull my hair. "Ow!" I complained as my hands shot up to defend my scalp.
"Stop regretting your existence", George demanded as he ended his assault on my hair.
"You're here, Holly", Fred continued. "You had no more say about which family you were born to than we did".
"So, stop acting like your life is an accident", George repeated his earlier sentiment.
"It's not going to help us figure out how we can support Ginny", Fred said, driving the point home.
I sighed but nodded. "You're right", I agreed, rubbing my forearm over my eyes in case any tears decided to escape. Besides, now wasn't the time to break down. Not when our little sister was probably feeling worse than we did, and there was a Horcrux hidden in George's trunk. Now was the time to plan.