September 1991, 1st year
They had been left behind in a small chamber by a very stern-looking witch with black hair and emerald-green robes called Professor McGonagall. The chamber was rather small, which made them stand closer to each other than Lynea would have liked. It also made the other students really look at each other and notice certain things.
Lynea was trying very hard to ignore the furtive glances and the whispers. It was bad enough being surrounded by a bunch of nervous children, most of which came from magical families that knew what the white streak in her hair meant, which made them all the more terrified. And then the ghosts had to scare them as well.
Lynea, herself, actually liked ghosts. She couldn't explain it, she was just very fascinated with them. The other first-years didn't share that sentiment.
Professor McGonagall, thankfully, chose that moment to reappear and lead them into the Great Hall and for a moment everyone forgot all about Lynea.
The Great Hall was filled with thousands of candles, floating over four, long tables where the older students were already sitting. At the other end, there was another table set for the teachers and when they looked up, the starry night sky greeted them. Hermione whispered that she had read about the enchanted ceiling in a book, but no one paid her any heed.
Professor McGonagall placed a stool in front of them and a ragged, pointed hat on top of it that opened its mouth and began to sing. Lynea tried very hard not to break out in laughter while the other first-years looked at the hat with open mouths, their eyes nearly popping out of their heads when it bowed to the applause that followed.
"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall said in a clear voice, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!"
A blonde girl with pigtails stumbled out of the crowd. She went to Hufflepuff. The next girl was sorted into Hufflepuff as well, then came two Ravenclaws, a Gryffindor and 'Bulstrode, Millicent' was the first to be sorted into Slytherin.
Lynea watched the sorting progress while Harry grew increasingly nervous right next to her.
"Don't worry," she said quietly. "It doesn't matter which house you'll be put in. They'll all welcome you with open arms."
"Fawley, Lynea!" Professor McGonagall called.
Lynea gave Harry one last smile and went to sit on the stool.
"Another Lémure, eh?" a small voice said.
I'm not a Lémure, Lynea thought, not really.
"But you're not a Fawley, either, are you? Not really. Not by blood, anyway."
She didn't know what to say to that.
The hat chuckled. "I know just where to put you," it said and then it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Lynea put down the hat and headed to the end of her house table, where Vincent and two girls she didn't know were already sitting. Gregory joined them soon after. Then the bushy-haired girl Lynea had met on the train ran forward and sat there, waiting, for several minutes. The hat eventually decided on putting her in Ravenclaw and it was Daphne's turn, who unsurprisingly joined the snakes.
Neville was, to everyone's astonishment – anyone who knew him personally, at least – put into Gryffindor. Although the hat did take its time with him. Neville was the first of six purebloods in a row, all of which Lynea had met at least once and three of which landed in Slytherin – namely, Draco, Theodore and Pansy.
By this point, the crowd of first-years had noticeably thinned and, after a few more of them had been sorted, it was finally Harry's turn.
"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called and all over the hall whispers broke out.
He walked forward on unsteady legs and then sat there, the Sorting Hat on his small head, as every single person in the Great Hall watched with bated breath until, finally, a loud "SLYTHERIN!" rang through the hall and for the first time of the evening silence reigned.
There was a loud clatter as one of the professors – a man who seemed vaguely familiar to Lynea, with black hair, a hooked nose and a frozen expression on his face – dropped his cup and Lynea watched in fascination as the red liquid slowly trickled over the table and drop-drop-dropped onto the stone floor.
Then the Slytherins recovered from their shock and gave Harry the loudest cheer Slytherin had given so far – and Slytherin's were usually rather reserved people.
Lynea made Theodore scoot over, so Harry could sit next to her. There was a round of hand-shaking and several students were still clapping, while the rest of the school watched in disbelief.
McGonagall cleared her throat and continued calling out names.
The red-head that had fled at the sight of Lynea was sorted into Gryffindor – Lynea would have been surprised, if she hadn't remembered that he was a Weasley upon seeing him join a bunch of older red-heads at the Gryffindor table. All Weasleys went to Gryffindor.
When at last Blaise joined them at the Slytherin table, Professor McGonagall put away the stool and the hat and Albus Dumbledore got to his feet.
"Welcome!" he said, beaming. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat back down and everyone clapped, some people even cheered.
"Bloody madman," one of the older Slytherins muttered.
"Is he … a bit mad?" Harry asked uncertainly.
"Oh, very much," Blaise said.
"Slytherin as a whole isn't very fond of him," Lynea explained. "Must be because he's always so nice to our house."
Blaise snorted. "That's a polite way of wording it."
Most of them were rather biased because of their parent's stories. Even grand-aunt Naenia had called the old wizard a hypocrite once or twice – and Naenia was someone who usually tried not to judge people based on stories or rumours, so she must have had some history with him.
Harry, meanwhile, had begun staring at the dishes that had appeared before them.
"Close your mouth, Harry. That's very unbecoming of you."
Harry gulped.
Lynea, herself, frowned at the display of food and tried looking for something light to eat, preferably something without meat. She wasn't vegetarian, strictly speaking, but meat often made her nauseated. Never mind that the feast itself wasn't helping. At least she didn't have a problem with crowds like her grand-aunt did. But according to Naenia that was rooted in the amount of time she spent in the presence of either living or undead beings and not something Lynea had to worry about.
Apparently, Necromancers didn't do well with anything related to life. It was one of the things Lynea hadn't been very keen on finding out. But what choice did she have?
"Welcome," a deep voice said and the first-years turned around to see a ghost with bloody robes and heavy chains approaching them. "I expect great things from you, my little Slytherins."
He nodded at each of them, but stopped when he came to Lynea.
"A Lémure, what a pleasant surprise."
"My name is Lynea Fawley," Lynea said quietly.
The Bloody Baron tilted his head. "Fawley?"
She sighed. "My grand-aunt Naenia told me to greet you on her behalf."
The ghost nodded at that, satisfied, and then moved on. Draco heaved a great sigh of relief. There was an awkward moment of silence as the other Slytherins processed the scene.
Lynea turned to her cousin Theodore, the one pureblood that hadn't become afraid of her when the Lémures had taken her family in, and raised her eyebrows.
"Thirty and seven," he said, "with eleven in Slytherin and Ravenclaw each, eight in Hufflepuff and seven in Gryffindor."
"So we're tied with Ravenclaw", Lynea said.
Draco groaned. "Could you stop being nerds for one day at least?"
Theodore and Lynea both raised their eyebrows at him.
"Aren't you happy that Gryffindor got the least number of new students?" Lynea asked, not waiting for an answer before turning back to Theodore. "Anyone of interest?"
"Well, Harry Potter, obviously," Theodore gave Harry a small smile, "who we have proudly claimed for ourselves. Zacharias joined the Hufflepuffs, so we don't need to put up with him anymore. Macmillan joined him and I seriously thought Longbottom would follow suit. I don't understand how he managed to be sorted into Gryffindor."
"Don't be so harsh, Neville is alright," Lynea protested.
Theodore rolled his eyes. "Yes, but he's so clumsy and uncoordinated, it's pitiful to watch." Then he continued, "A few purebloods from lesser families, then we've finally got a pair of separated twins – they were sorted into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively. And I noticed another Weasley joining the lions."
"We met him briefly on the train," Lynea said, gesturing to herself and Harry. "How many of those red-heads are there, anyway?"
"Seven," Draco answered. "They have another one coming next year, their only daughter."
"Do you all know each other?" Harry asked timidly.
"Those who are pure of blood do," Draco said. "We tend to keep to ourselves. Wouldn't want to associate with the wrong sort, you know?" He sniffed and looked at the two girls sitting opposite to him. "Halfbloods, are you?"
They nodded slowly.
Lynea rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. You're Tracey and Millicent, right?" They nodded again and Lynea turned back to Draco. "Don't forget that our precious Boy Who Lived is a mere halfblood, himself – no offense, Harry."
But Harry hadn't paid any attention to what Lynea had been saying. He had been watching the teachers' table and suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead saying, "Ouch!"
"Are you alright?"
"I-it's nothing," he said. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrel?"
Theodore turned to the teachers' table. "Who's Professor Quirrel?"
"The one with the turban."
Lynea looked up, herself. There was a pale, twitchy looking man wearing a ridiculous turban talking to the man with black hair that looked so familiar to Lynea.
"Oh," said Theodore. "That's Professor Snape, our Head of House. He teaches potions."
"Uncle Severus has been after the Defence Against the Dark Arts job for years, though," Draco said.
Yes, now she remembered. Lynea had met the man a few times at Malfoy Manor, back when her father hadn't been imprisoned, yet.
"He doesn't seem to like me very much," Harry said quietly.
"Nonsense," Draco said. "Uncle Severus always looks that grumpy. He has no reason to dislike you."
Harry didn't look very convinced, but Theodore chose that moment to interject, "You've met Professor Quirrel before?"
Harry nodded, relief written all over his face. He would have to learn how to conceal his emotions, if he wanted to fit into Slytherin – and not get trampled by the rest of the school. From the look Theodore was giving Lynea, he thought the same.
"I met him in the Leaky Cauldron," Harry said. "He seemed really nervous, couldn't stop stuttering. Hagrid said he met some vampires and had trouble with a hag. He has apparently been afraid of everything ever since."
Draco scoffed. "Don't trust everything that oaf is saying."
"He does seem scared of everything, though," Lynea remarked. "But that may just be Professor Snape's intimidating presence."
Harry didn't say anything else and everyone returned to their puddings. When those, at last, disappeared, Professor Dumbledore rose and the hall fell silent.
He gave some standard speech about restricted places and important events and then made them all sing the ridiculous school song. The Slytherins only joined half-heartedly.
"First-years," an older Slytherin called. "If you would please follow me."
She led them out of the Great Hall, through the Entrance Hall and to a staircase that led down to the dungeons. The Hufflepuffs were following them for a while, but split off halfway down the stairs.
The corridors in the dungeons were almost like a labyrinth. Lynea wasn't the only one who looked slightly intimidated by the prospect of trying not to get lost down here, but the prefect leading them to their common room gave them tips and hints on how to navigate the dungeons until they stopped at a non-descript, bare wall.
"The password for the next two weeks will be 'Python'," the prefect said. "You'd do well to remember that."
A stone door concealed in the wall slid open to allow them access to the Slytherin Common Room.
"Well, then," the prefect said. "My name is Gemma Farley and I am delighted to welcome you to Slytherin House."
Lynea looked around. The Slytherin Common Room was a long, elegant room with rough stone walls and round lamps giving off a green light just like the numerous fireplaces and the light filtering through the water behind the windows. As Gemma explained to them, sometimes the giant squid or other creatures living in the lake could be seen behind those windows.
She then continued on to 'dispel a few myths' about the rumours that always accompanied their house. She also talked about ambition and respect.
"Yes, some of that respect might be tinged with fear, because of our dark reputation," Gemma said and Lynea felt a lump in her throat. "But you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side. Chuck out a few hints that you've got access to a whole library of curses, and see whether anyone feels like nicking your pencil case.
"We're not bad people," she continued. "We're like our emblem, the snake: sleek, powerful, and frequently misunderstood."
The prefect then told them a few facts about their house and several rules they should remember – that Slytherin always presented a united front, for one, no matter what happened. Disputes between members of their house were to be solved behind the closed walls. They couldn't afford to show any weakness in front of the rest of the school, least of all Headmaster Dumbledore.
"As far as we're concerned, once you've become a snake, you're one of ours – one of the elite."
When she was finished, Gemma showed them to their dormitories. The girls entered the room in the middle, with two beds to one side and three to the other. There were several windows on the wall opposite the door and the beds that gave them an excellent view of the lake – both above and underwater. There was a desk for each girl standing in front of those windows. Their four-posters had green silk hangings and their bedspreads were embroidered with silver thread – it complimented the silver lanterns hanging from the ceilings and the medieval tapestries covering the walls perfectly.
Their trunks were already waiting for them, as well as Choco and another cat that belonged to Millicent, called Fizzle. Since they were all exhausted, they unanimously decided to go right to bed. The water lapping against the windows proved to be very soothing and soon they all drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
AN
Looking up Gemma's speech reminded me of the old Pottermore – the one where you could explore moments from the books and brew potions and try to win the House Cup. I kinda miss it…