(Coeus Black - PoV)
*Clap* *Clap* *Clap*
Despite the incredibly long-standing tradition, I am the only person in the hall to properly applaud Phoebe's sorting.
Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable.
A harsh glare at the nearest students gets them hesitantly going.
It takes entirely too long but, eventually, most of the hall joins in, if rather half-heartedly.
With the proper custom observed, Phoebe finally makes her way to the table and takes her place beside me.
"You didn't tell me you were going to do that," I half complain at her as she settles in.
She rolls her eyes.
"Of course not," she replies, "and you know why. The hat would have known about it then!"
"Bah," I ignore the ongoing sorting in favor of continuing the argument. "That's the best part! What would it have done about it?"
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"Call out my house before actually touching me?"
I shake my head.
"It could, but wouldn't. That would defy its purpose, its very reason to exist."
I smirk.
"Besides, I doubt it actually expected your trick to work. After all, it's the Sorting Hat. What kind of silly little First Year could actually best it?"
Phoebe returns the smirk, reclining in her seat.
"About that," an older student speaks up, drawing our attention to the middle of the table.
"What, exactly, did you do to it, if I may ask?" the dark-haired boy asks regardless.
Still, at least mildly polite of him.
I raise an eyebrow at Phoebe. Her trick, her decision...but I do hope she explains.
She leans back, appearing to preen in the attention, but I can see the far-off look in her eyes as she abuses her sight.
Her gaze eventually fixes on the older student. A Prefect, I realize, finally noticing the badge. She smiles.
"Oh, nothing much. The poor hat spends all its time stuck here in the castle. And while it is happy with its job, of course, it does have an occasional desire to see more, you know? To see the world, to experience what else is out there."
Her smile turns decidedly sharp.
"I figured I would grant its wish. After all, I have seen such sights, why not share them?"
She gives an innocent, half-hearted shrug. One beautifully contrasted with her smile.
"I don't think it appreciated them."
The table is silent for a time, as everyone attempts to imagine exactly what she has seen that managed to traumatize the Sorting Hat.
"I...see." The Prefect replies.
"You really don't," she tells him. "There's a reason most Seers are insane."
Her smile widens to an outright grin as she maintains eye contact.
The Prefect looks away first, clearing his throat.
I look over at Phoebe.
Bravo, sister. Bravo.
So how much of that was actually true?
That answers exactly nothing.
Glancing at me, she rolls her eyes.
"Applaud, brother. With enthusiasm."
What?
Another round of polite clapping breaks out. I quickly join in alongside Phoebe.
Glancing towards the hat, I find Daphne walking towards us.
Oh, blast! I didn't even hear her get called.
Thank you, Phoebe.
Elegantly sliding into her seat, Daphne does her hair flip thing, before half glaring at us.
Phoebe just smiles back silently, so I elect to follow her lead.
...
After several moments of silence, Daphne huffs, deflating.
The glare still continues, though is milder than before.
"You two are the worst," she grumbles.
I start to open my mouth to point out that she still came to join us despite the table not exactly lacking in space but Phoebe pinches me under my robes.
"You know you love it," Phoebe claims. "Really, would you rather be with the plebs instead? You saw how the Puffs react to a little excitement."
Grimacing, the blonde girl sends a dirty look toward the Hufflepuff table.
Tilting my head, I look towards Phoebe, but she shakes her own.
Not really important then. Or just regular Puff stuff.
Heh, rhymes.
Shaking her head, Daphne resumes her glare, actually focusing on Phoebe for once instead of me.
"Stop distracting me! The hat warned me about you, you know!"
Wait, really?
Phoebe giggles while the table, already rather quiet, goes virtually silent.
"Oh really," Phoebe replies. "And what did it have to say, hmm?"
Daphne blushes red.
"It...it...umm," she glances around, noticing we have everyone's attention.
"It doesn't matter," she finally finishes, straightening up and regaining her composure.
"Just how messed up do you have to be to get the hat, infamously neutral, to warn people about you?"
Phoebe's smile doesn't fade.
"Pretty bad, I would imagine. Almost as messed up as you need to be to immediately disregard said warnings and make a beeline straight for such a person."
...
"Ugh."
Disregarding decorum, Daphne drops her head onto the table.
"Today has gone on for entirely too long. Is the sorting almost over yet?"
"No."
...
She sticks a hand out toward me.
"Give me food," she demands.
This sounds like a good time for chocolate. Where's my trolley?
Ah, right behind me!
...
Since when?
Whatever.
Grabbing her favorite Honey-dukes bar, I place it in her hand.
Daphne still doesn't lift her head as she pulls the chocolate to herself and begins eating.
"This doesn't get back to my parents," she mutters. "Threaten them, or something."
I snort, before turning to look across the watching faces.
Removing my sword, I place it on the table.
"No one saw anything embarrassing or untoward, did they?" I ask, smiling pleasantly.
There are a fair number of shaken heads, especially amongst the younger and older students, before everyone goes back to talking amongst themselves or pretending to not pay attention.
Nodding solemnly, I choose to ignore the snorts that accompany some of the shaking heads, as well as Phoebe's amused smile.
The sword remains on the table.
It turns out that carrying a sword around is actually kind of awkward. Especially when it is clearly meant for someone rather taller than yourself. Still, I don't want to put it away just yet, so it can stay there for the moment.
Draco flounces into a seat across the table from us, glaring.
Is this going to be a thing?
"You didn't applaud!" he whines.
Oh. Oops.
I shrug.
"Sorry, w-" Phoebe elbows me.
"We were reassuring Daphne," she interrupts.
Blinking at her, I tilt my head.
Is that really so different from what I was going to say? We were dealing with Daphne issues, right?
I wince as she stamps my foot under the table.
Draco pouts.
"Hmph. Of course, she gets all the attention," he mutters.
I would tell him that I didn't actually notice Daphne get sorted either but that would just get her mad at me instead.
Phoebe raises an eyebrow at him.
"Draco, are you jealous? You are acting like a jilted girlfriend right now."
He reddens.
"Are Crabbe and Goyle not enough for you? I'm sorry, but brother is just not interested in you that way."
I'm really not.
"You could maybe try B-"
"Potter, Iris!"
Finally, a name gets our attention.
Phoebe cuts off mid-sentence as we both turn towards the center, watching Iris nervously approach the hat, the hall going silent for a long moment after her name is called.
The moment doesn't last, as whispers quickly follow. Whispers that quickly spread and grow into a ruckus as she makes her short walk.
Green eyes look towards us as she reaches the end and I give her a thumbs up.
She is far more confident when she takes her seat on the stool, allowing the hat to be lowered onto her head.
...
"Her you notice too!" Draco hisses behind us.
"Draco, everyone noticed Iris," Phoebe replies, having to speak up slightly to be heard above the noise in the hall.
"And you are still really not helping your case."
He goes quiet, but I can picture his annoyance.
I sigh.
He does have a point. Annoying as he can be sometimes, we have not been the best of friends lately. We will have to do something for him soon.
Maybe bring him when we sneak out to go flying? It would certainly annoy Sirius...
Frowning, I sit up in my seat, attempting to get a better look at Iris.
She looks rather tense now, clenching at the stool, with a rather unhappy expression on her face...
Phoebe nods before I can ask.
"It's "warning" her about us. Or at least me, specifically," she says, attracting a few looks once more from other students.
She smiles despite her words.
Daphne, who finally looked up to watch the sorting, glances over at us, still slowly, oh so slowly, eating her chocolate.
"You act like that is a good thing?"
Phoebe giggles.
"It's Iris. The girl is literally too stubborn to die," she replies, her eyes darting toward the eavesdroppers momentarily.
Her comment causes more than a few widened eyes.
"All the hat is doing is getting her mad and making her want to join us even more. She was kinda wishy-washy about the houses before, not really caring. Now? Now she is all for Slytherin, just to spite it."
Daphne slowly lowers her remaining chocolate, staring at Phoebe.
"You...played it."
Phoebe keeps her eyes on Iris, but her smile widens.
"The Sorting Hat. One of the most powerful enchanted objects in the world, able to bypass all known mental defenses...until today...and see straight into the heart of a person. To understand them utterly, with centuries of experience...and you played it."
Three of the house table are awash with "whispers" and speculation as Iris's sorting continues. The Slytherin table is dead silent.
"Of course," Phoebe replies. "You didn't think I would leave something like the Sorting to chance, did you?"
Closing her eyes, she gives a small, unusual laugh.
Several students scoot away slightly.
Phoebe reopens her eyes, looking towards the table as a whole, rather than at Daphne. They are as wide and wild as I have ever seen them, and even a muggle could see the magic dancing in them.
"After all, she is ours," she says, voice dripping with mania, her grin wide and threatening.
"SLYTHERIN!" the hat calls out.
Laughing myself, I wrap my arm around her waist.
"Ours," I agree.
Though your ability for dramatic timing is bullshit.
...
That is a fair point. I would never put in that much work to impress people I don't care about.
Iris stomps over to us, ignoring McGonagall's glare at her back for her rough handling of the hat, having jerked it off her own head.
The applause is...mixed, with half the school decidedly unenthusiastic about her going to Slytherin.
Iris appears to be ignoring everyone else, however, instead plopping down beside Phoebe with a huff, slamming her arms on the table.
"That, that, -" she begins.
"Unfashionable toerag, better used as a kitchen mop?" Phoebe suggests.
Iris blinks.
"Err...yeah. That."
She shakes her head.
"It...uh...you...?"
We nod.
"The hat is not used to someone getting one over on it. I am not surprised it tried to get some petty revenge. It also tried to "warn" Daphne."
She rolls her eyes.
Daphne waves.
Iris's eyes narrow on seeing the chocolate, quickly searching around before finding the trolley.
Ah. Damn.
She hasn't given up that particular quest then...
Noticing her attention stray to my sword, I move it well away from her reach.
Bad Iris.
Unfortunately, this merely attracts other people's attention to it.
"Coeus, why is there a sword on the table?" Malfoy asks.
"B-
"Because he's crazy, and an idiot," Daphne interrupts me.
I look over at her while she licks her fingers clean, studiously ignoring me.
Draco nods.
"That is a given,"
What?!
"but I was looking for specifics."
...
"It turns out, swords are actually a bit awkward to just carry around," I admit. "And trying to actually draw it while sitting at the table seems really annoying. So I figured I would just keep it here in case I need to stab someone in the face. Say, for insulting me?"
Draco pales a shade and looks away.
"That's why they tended to carry long daggers and such to dinners, I believe," Daphne replies.
Reaching over, she drags the sword towards herself.
Hey! That's mine!
She lifts it up and fiddles about with it a bit before nodding.
"Yeah, way too big to draw at a table," she says, dropping it with a thunk.
Snatching it back, I pull it in close.
Then push it back slightly, away from Iris.
...Damnit. This is becoming a lot more complicated than I expected.
Daphne sighs at Malfoys questioning glance.
"Astoria," she answers.
"Anyhow," I start, digging about in my robes, "If daggers are more appropriate, I have those too!"
Proudly, I pull out the Black family anti-were dagger, holding it out above the table.
"Oh, for fuck's sake..." I hear someone mutter.
Brandishing the dagger menacingly, I glare down the table but no one meets my eyes.
Hmph.
The hall suddenly quiets down, everyone's attention drawn to the front.
Looking forward, I find Dumbledore has risen from his seat.
"Welcome," he announces, looking out over the hall. "Welcome, to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words..."
He isn't using the voice, the dick, so I don't see any reason to listen to him. Instead, I look over the high table, examining the Professors.
Oh, and Grandfather!
I believe Grandfather once referred to his current expression as one of "polite neutrality."
Snape is frowning, as always.
Who is that in the turban?
The hall erupts into cheers and applause.
Blinking, I see Dumbledore retaking his seat.
Oh, he's done. Good, good. Food?
Glancing over the table I smile.
Food!
I begin filling my plate immediately.
Talk is limited for a time as everyone gathers their food.
Draco stares at me as I cut my meat.
"Are you using a heavily enchanted anti-were heirloom dagger to eat with?"
Taking a bite, I tilt my head.
Chew chew chew. Swallow.
"Yes?"
I mean, a knife's a knife. Right?
Ignoring the coughing from down the table, I notice Iris stuffing a biscuit in her pocket.
"You don't have to put it in your pockets," I tell her. "We have trunks for that!"
"Wha, what?" Iris asks nervously, shifting in her seat.
I roll my eyes before glancing at her plate.
Grabbing a platter from the table, I heft the entire thing away. Carefully balancing it, I reach into my robes before feeling a soft bump from behind. Turning I find the trolley still sitting directly behind me.
Right, this thing is (supposedly) made for this, isn't it?
I stuff the whole platter into the trolley before turning back to Iris.
"There, see? Anything else you want? The biscuits, I guess?"
She opens and closes her mouth a few times but doesn't say anything, so I grab the platter of biscuits and repeat the process.
Hrm. Some gravy wouldn't go amiss either. And maybe this one over here...
"You know, if you steal the entire Welcoming Feast you are probably going to get cursed."
An older girl, maybe fourth year, sitting a little way down the table tells me, her voice filled with amusement.
Looking around I notice several of the people around me becoming rather disgruntled but shrug.
"Anyone who tries is going to get stuffed in the trolley as well," I threaten, before resuming my hunt for preferential edibles.
It would be easier if I had a better idea of what Iris liked. She is not being helpful right now and I admit I haven't been paying the best attention to her choices at meals.
Too busy guarding my bacon from everyone else.
Even Ted stole some! Dad tax, he claimed. Bloody muggle inventions...
"Besides, won't the House Elves have this all replaced in a few minutes?" I ask.
The older girl shrugs.
"Usually, but they don't always send up the same thing that was emptied out."
Oh. Well, that's rather annoying. I should send in a complaint/suggestion. Hrm, would I send it to Dumbledore, the cat lady, or the elves themselves?
I think the elves. They probably don't get enough mail. I've never actually heard of anyone sending a letter to a house elf.
"Also, I have to ask," the girl continues, "how is being put into a cart filled with candy a threat? That is the candy trolley from the train, correct?"
A great deal of murmuring breaks out and the glares intensify greatly, now coming from much more of the table.
"Yup!" I announce proudly. "We never did visit the store in Diagon this summer, too much chaos, so my stocks were running a bit low. Moving that much candy seemed like a pain though, so I just bought the whole trolley."
I look the angriest seeming girl (a first year with damp hair and clothes, go figure) directly in the eyes and pick up another platter near her, maintaining eye contact while stuffing it in the trolley with a smile.
"As for why it's a threat? Well, the trolley lady, who might need a new name now that I think about it, did mention something about there being more to the cart than candy but we didn't really understand at the time."
I huff in mild annoyance.
"After it almost killed me, we think it was trying to eat me but are not entirely sure, we finally realized she had given us one of those really oblique warnings old mysterious figures are so fond of."
Giving a casual shrug, I hit the desserts, stuffing an entire pie of some sort into the trunk.
"Also, it turns out it is pretty much indestructible and autonomous." I pat the cart while continuing to make eye contact with the angry girl, whose expression now has some nervousness mixed in. "I named it the Death Trolley of Candy, and will happily feed it the bodies of my enemies."
Most of the hostile glares around me have become far more hesitant, especially as food begins to slowly reappear on the table...on very different styles of silverware.
Oh.
That may have been part of the reason for the delay. I was not only taking the food but stealing the platters as well.
...
Whatever. Mine now.
...
The Dread Pirate Black strikes again!
And right under Dumbledore's nose, hah!
Maybe I should grab a goblet too, complete the set...
The conversation moves on to more banal matters for the rest of the feast.
I don't mind, as it gives us time to actually eat.
Still, before long the food disappears, leaving empty tables.
Dumbledore rises once more and I sigh, immediately tuning him out.
Phoebe will let me know if he says anything important.
Humming to myself, I resume looking over the teachers.
Hagrid, Mckitty, uh, Hufflepuff plant lady, Flitwick...
Looking over the lot, I put faces together with names. Sometimes.
That witch is the flying instructor. No idea what her name is, but she has really cool eyes.
Hmm. Turban is either Defense or Muggle Studies I think, with that other witch over there being whichever he is not.
The noise level jumps suddenly, as everyone starts bustling about, grabbing things and/or getting up and holding conversations once more.
"Oh, is he done then? Anything important?" I ask Phoebe.
She shakes her head.
Draco blinks at us, halfway out of his seat.
"You don't consider any of that important? Anything?" he asks.
She looks at him.
"No. Why?"
He stares for a moment before shaking his head.
"Bloody Blacks..." he mutters.
"So where are we going?" Iris asks.
"Down," the Prefect from earlier replies. "Our common room is in the dungeons."
He looks over the table, making sure he has the attention of all the first years.
"Alright then everyone, follow me!"
He makes it all of two steps before being interrupted.
"Samuel," a voice calls, managing to be heard clearly despite sounding almost quiet?
Turning, the prefect gives a nod.
"Professor Snape, sir?"
We find the Professor standing behind us, being given a respectable birth by the milling students.
Grandfather is accompanying him...as well as Dumbledore and McKitty.
All are looking at us.
Crap. Did they actually notice all the silverware?
"Black, and...Black..." he not-whispers. "There is apparently an, issue, with your pet. The house elves request we, look into it."
We blink.
"What?" I ask. "We don't have a pet."
I frown.
"Andy told us all the ones we wanted are illegal."
The Professors stare at us, while Grandfather chuckles lightly.
"That, at least, does not surprise me," Snape answers.
Glancing at Samuel, Snape waves his hand.
"Resume, as usual. I will be along when this, mystery, is resolved."
Does he have a really weird speech impediment or is he talking like that on purpose?
"Got it. This way then, firsties!" Samuel says, leading the others along, with most of the non-first years reluctantly heading past as well.
The professors give Iris a look when she stays.
She looks back.
"I'm with them," she announces stubbornly.
Nodding, we wrap our arms around her shoulders.
"Of course you are..." Snape mutters.
Without another word he marches past, heading out the doors. The other professors follow, appearing mildly concerned. Grandfather looks amused.
I half glare at him as we follow after.
"You didn't tell us you were coming!" I complain.
"It was a last-minute thing, I wasn't sure if I would be able to make it. Ah, but I am so glad I did!"
He chuckles lightly, glancing over at us.
"I was expecting great things from you, of course, but once again you surpass all expectations. What a show, children, what a show. Hogwarts will remember it for generations."
Really?
I hadn't even considered that...
Awesome!
Oddly, the Professors lead us back outside.
Snape climbs into a waiting carriage without a word.
Sighing, Dumbledore pauses to explain.
"The pets are moved from the train the Hogwarts. The house elves will not move this one but did not say why. We have to go back to the train, to figure out why."
Ah.
"That certainly sounds unusual," Grandfather comments. "Has this happened before?"
Dumbledore shakes his head.
"Not like this, no. There have been dangerous pets that they can or will not transport, generally due to being on the list of banned creatures, but this case is...odd."
"I see, I see."
Snape and McGonagall's carriage takes off, leaving Dumbledore to take the next one with us.
I can feel Grandfather's smug.
He pesters Dumbledore with questions the entire trip.
Phoebe and I giggle when old goat all but leaps out the door when we finally stop, and even Iris gives a small smile.
"How rude," Grandfather feigns offense.
Climbing out after him, we all board the train, quickly finding our way to a massive holding area, several times larger than any of the actual train cars.
I cover my nose at the smell, eyeing the straw, roosts, chains, and empty cages.
Mostly empty cages, as one catches my eye.
"Over there," I point out to our group.
Making our way over, we find an oversized dog carrier, one meant for a particularly large dog, labeled Padfoot.
A familiar animagus whines at us from inside the cage.
"Oh dear..." Dumbledore comments.
"Is...is that?" McGonagall asks as if it wasn't obvious.
Grandfather sighs.
"A simple stray, then? Shall I put it down?" Snape suggests tonelessly, brandishing his wand.
Sirius growls lightly.
"Severus..." Dumbledore speaks.
"How did he even manage this?" McGonagall asks.
I snort.
"Probably tried to sneak aboard the train. Looks like she has quite the sense of humor."
I pat the nearest wall.
"Good job," I compliment.
Dumbledore waves his wand and the cage springs open.
Sirius lunges out, transforming immediately and falling to his knees, breathing heavily.
*Pant* *Pant* *Pant*
"D-Damn. Thanks. That was...the worst train ride...ever. Which is saying something..."
Everyone stands around, watching him, with expressions ranging from pity to contempt.
Snape's wand remains in his hand and it looks like he is still half considering cursing him.
"Every time," Grandfather speaks, "I think that you cannot disappoint me any further...Well, do I really need to continue?"
He raises an eyebrow as Sirius looks up at him tiredly.
Grandfather shakes his head.
He looks at us, then back at Sirius.
"The contrast is...shocking. One generation...Hmph."
"You missed quite the show tonight, Sirius. Your children pulled off two, possibly three, legendary "pranks" that will be passed down as stories for generations, before even being sorted.
Sirius gapes.
"Wha..what?"
"Oh yes. What was it you accomplished on your way to Hogwarts? You got into a fight with a classmate?" Grandfather's eyes flicker toward Snape. "A fight you did not particularly win, at that?"
He tuts.
"Young Coeus dueled a good third of his year mates, throwing more than a few in the lake."
"What!?"
Clapping his hands, Grandfather turns towards Dumbledore.
"Well, I suppose that is a mystery solved then. Excess baggage from the past. And at least a small positive to Hogwarts security. The train at least seems determined to protect the students, and the elves as well."
Dumbledore nods slowly.
"I assume, then, that you can handle the rest of the night by yourselves?"
Dumbledore nods rather more enthusiastically.
"Good! Good."
He turns towards us.
"Children, it was wonderful to see you, but I must be on my way. If you have any problems, do not hesitate to contact me."
We nod.
He makes his way out, and we turn our attention back to the Professors.
...
"So...?" I question.
Dumbledore rubs his eyes.
"Severus, could you please escort the students to their dorms?" he asks.
Snape continues to glare at Sirius for a moment, as if he doesn't hear.
"As you wish," he agrees suddenly, dismissing Sirius entirely and storming past us.
"Hey, wait! I am their father! Don't I get any say in this?" Sirius objects.
"No," Phoebe and I answer.
Snape hesitates slightly midstep.
"Sirius..." Dumbledore's voice fades into the background as we make our way out.