The Train
The suitcases had been triple checked by the time they were thrown in the back of Moses Evans old brown car. First by Hermione - the youngest of the family always the most organised when it came to this sort of thing. She spent the evening prior with her twin, loudly informing her of how they could not bring summer clothes when the season was so soon to shift. In the morning, both Petunia and Henrietta Evans scanned the contents with methodical eyes. Several of Hermione’s books were returned to their shelves (though the girl was quick to sneak them back into her trunk after a wink from her father).
Their journey to London was undertaken as dawn broke through the indigo sky, painting streaks of pink and lavender through the thick clouds. It was a tad of a squeeze to fit them all in the car along with the luggage, but none of the family planned to miss the occasion. Certainly not Petunia, first to slide into the backseat of the car - fingers thrumming a steady pattern on her thigh as she yelled for her sisters to ‘hurry up!’
With a shared flagon of tea, several sandwiches tied in old napkins, and a promise of sweeties for the journey, the family happily undertook the long drive. Never a morning person, Lily was quick to tuck her head onto Petunia’s shoulder and catch some shut eye as Hermione regaled the family with all she knew of this magical school. On her lap sat a copy of her new favourite book, Hogwarts: A History. Many evenings had been spent with the three sisters combing the pages, pointing out each odd detail with little laughs and great giggles.
By the time they reached the station, Moses Evans was lamenting his sore knees and Henrietta was fretting how close to the train time they had arrived.
“Barely twenty minutes, Mosey!” She stressed, snapping the boot undone and hurriedly helping Petunia yank the suitcases free. The twins grabbed matching satchels from the boot and tucked them over their shoulders. They held their school robes (as students supposed changed on the train, according to Professor McGonagall), a book and coin purse each, and a surprise of sherbet lemons and toffees (that Henrietta had snuck beneath the folds of fabric).
“I know, darling.” The man replied to his wife, sharing a brief smile with his youngest children.
“I told you that we should have left earlier! I ought to have just picked Lily out of her bed and flung her in the car.”
“Mom!” The ginger girl gasped, utterly scandalised by the suggestion.
“They’ll make the train, don’t worry.” Moses sighed as he collected the cases - one in each hand as his wife locked the car and ushered the family towards Kings Cross. Hermione’s trunk pulled his arm a little lower, though Moses was quick to adjust his grip before his wife could catch wind of how hefty it was. “Besides, I’m certain that if they did miss the train, that McGonagall woman would be more than happy to help us out. She was wonderful about taking the girls school shopping.”
“Yes, well…” Henrietta spluttered, her hands tight on her daughters’ shoulders. “She’ll be busy preparing for the new arrivals, won’t she?”
“Mom, we’ll make it.” Hermione promised, offering one of her wry smiles. “We just have to make it through to Platform 9 and walk through a wall.”
“A what?” Her mother gasped, forcing the girls through the entrance.
“A wall.” She simply repeated. “I’m sure we’ll catch some other families arriving at a similar time. See? That lot’s got to be going to Hogwarts, too.”
Hermione pointed towards a family with similarly reddish hair to their own, set with identical twin boys and an older sister. The children (a few years older than themselves) pushed trolleys of luggage as they nattered amongst themselves - their parents watching the discussion with fond amusement. They wore almost ordinary clothing, save for how the fabric seemed too smooth and the stitching too precise. That, and their shoes all curled slightly upwards at the toe.
“There’s an owl on the girl’s trolley.” Lily gasped, darting a hand to grab Petunia’s.
“Well, that is how that Professor said mail was carried.” The blonde laughed, squeezing her sister’s palm. “Hogwarts keeps a few olds for those without, according to that book of Hermione’s.”
Henrietta shot a look towards her husband.
“Shall we follow?”
“We shall.” He nodded.
Their journey took them past the morning bustle, straight to Platform 9 (as Hermione had already informed, and promptly reminded). In their hurried walk, the family spotted several more teenagers with pets in cages and parents with odd clothing yelling for their children to hurry up. As they neared the spot that the families seemed to be congregating upon, they noted how none of those they’d followed seemed present any longer. Instead, the platform was filled with normal folk dressed in normal clothes, all seemingly waiting for the train to Victoria Station.
It left the Evans family stuck on the platform, all looking utterly out of their element. Well, save for Hermione. She merely grinned up at the rest with that all-knowing look she so often sported.
“First time?” The family spun to face the witch from before, her family stood behind as she scanned the Evans with a warm smile. She had a pleasant face, aged by smile lines around her eyes and a few deep creases upon her forehead. Her dark hair was braided into an ornate bun, eyes lined with a vivid blue - a few shades lighter than her almost-navy eyes.
The teens in her company took after the man that stood stoically at her shoulder. All sported that bright shade of ginger hair, bright blue eyes and round faces that all offered shy but kind smiles.
“Oh, yes!” Henrietta blinked, eyes scanning the witch - a hint of a frown tugging at her lips as she unconsciously smoothed her own orange locks.
“It’s rather simple, really.” The witch spoke kindly. “You just walk through the wall. Better to do it at a run if you’re nervous.” She looked to the girls with a wink. “My children can demonstrate, if you like?”
“That would be much appreciated.” Moses nodded.
“Fabian!” She called, looking to one of the twins. “You’re up first.”
“I’m not Fabian, I’m Gideon.” The boy rolled his eyes. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?”
“So sorry, Gideon.” The witch sighed.
“Only joking, Mum.” The wizard grinned, exchanging a wicked grin with his twin. “I am Fabian.” With that, he marched his trolley through the wall and was seen no more. The Evans girls watched on with matching grins of their own, darting looks to each other of utter amusement - none with more glee than Hermione.
“Those boys will be the death of me.” The witch huffed. “At least my Molly is a sensible witch.”
Again, the sisters exchanged glances. The eldest child of this magical family - a nearly-adult girl with bright ginger hair fashioned into a braided crown - had the same glint of mischief that her brothers shared. Considering how her lips were coated in a pinkish lipstick and the cut of her shirt, there was likely a boy waiting for her on the train. One that Hermione suspected her parents were not yet aware of.
“Off you go, Gideon, Molly.” The witch nodded to her children, eyes lingering on her daughter. “Keep those brothers of yours in line, won’t you?”
“If I must.” Molly rolled her eyes, shoving her brother forwards. Soon, the pair too vanished through the brick wall.
“Oh!” Henrietta gasped, watching as the wall rippled back to brick.
“Magic really is a wonder, isn’t it?” Moses smiled, adjusting his grip on the trunks. “Shall we, girls?”
“We shall.” Hermione beamed, quick to take the first step towards the entrance. With decisive footsteps, she quickly stepped through the brick wall and into whatever lay behind. Petunia followed through next, her hand still clutching Lily’s as the ginger rushed behind her - eyes snapped shut and breathing rapid. Slowly, she peeled her eyelids open until her emerald eyes were wide and unblinking. She scanned each detail of the platform with wonderment and glee.
“It’s real.” She breathed.
“Of course it is, Lils.” Petunia laughed, tugging her to join Hermione. As their parents joined the trio - eyes equally filled with awe - Petunia’s gaze remained fixed on Hermione. If she hadn’t looked, she might have missed how different her sister’s expression was from the rest.
Hermione Evans did not look at the platform as though it were anything new. She did not marvel at the wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, nor did she gasp like Lily at the scarlet steam-engine that children were hurrying onto. Her brilliant sister, who saw so much and knew far more, looked as though she were coming home to a place she had thought long gone. Her pale eyes shone with familiarity as she turned them to her family, as though burning their smiles into memory.
It was enough to bring tears to Petunia’s eyes. For, as peculiar as her sister’s reaction was, she still the glue of their family. She was still the girl that would see something brilliant and turn to see if the rest had spied it too.
With a grunt that hid thick emotion, Moses rushed to the train citing the need to stow their suitcases (though it was likely just to hide his tears). Their mother busied herself with speaking to the kind witch that had helped them, a darted look to the girls as they prepared to say their goodbyes.
“Promise you’ll write me.” Petunia sniffled, wiping at her eyes with one of her familiar embroidered handkerchiefs.
“I promise.” Hermione nodded, tearing up as she looked to Petunia with fondness. “And I’ll make sure Lily remembers write you, too.”
“I’ll remember!” The other twin squawked, her sisters exchanging an amused glance before the trio burst into giggles.
“I’m going to miss you.” Petunia announced through her tears, looking to her younger sister’s with the softest of eyes.
“We’ll miss you more.” Hermione wiped at her wet cheeks, pulling her satchel higher up her shoulder. “It… it’s going to feel very strange to not eat breakfast with you.”
In her own odd little way, Hermione’s words were always what a person needed to hear. She did not offer goodbyes, not ever. But she did offer promises of remembrance. A known vow to think of her big sister every morning as she buttered her toast.
The twins exchanged hugs with their parents once Moses had returned from stowing their suitcases. Tearful goodbyes that were cut short by the warning whistle of the train.
“We’ll miss you!” Lily called out the train window once the girls were aboard. “And we’ll write as soon as we can.”
“You’d better, missy.” Henrietta warned, though her sniffles weakened the threat.
“We love you!” Moses smiled, ears teary but bright as he waved a callused hand - the other resting on Petunia’s shoulder as she sobbed.
The train began to move with a shudder. Still, the twins stood for as long as they could by the window as they waved at their family. Despite her usual primness, Petunia began to run alongside the train until it was too fast to follow - half-laughing, half-crying as she blew a kiss to her sisters and paused by the end of the platform.
For a gentle moment, the twins watched as houses flashed past the window.
“I think I’ll search for a compartment.” Hermione spoke after a minute. “Would you like to watch the view a little longer?”
“I think so.” Lily nodded as her sister unwound their arms and untucked their heads. “Do you… Petunia will be alright, won’t she?”
“She will.” Hermione spoke with certainty. “She’s the toughest of us, after all.”
With that declaration, Hermione spun to stalk the corridor. She darted a look into each compartment, shaking her head at each one before she moved onto the next. And Lily, eyes still misty and worries still present, let her head turn back to the window as she watched houses turn to fields.
She would miss Cokeworth. She would miss the neighbours that gossiped with her over the garden fence, the flower shop her mother worked in, all the day-to-day brilliance of their lovely town. However dour it may look - coated by thick smog, dark rivers and dust from the mines - it was the only place she’d ever known as home. And though she’d never admit it to her, Lily thought she’d miss Petunia most of all.
What would she do in the evening if not sit and watch Petunia sew? How would she know if she was being facetious or naive if Petunia was not there to tell her so?
“Lily!” A familiar voice boomed behind her, jolting her spine as the ginger girl spun slowly.
“Hello, Sev.” Lily smiled rather awkwardly, eyes darting the corridor in the hopes of spying Hermione.
“I haven’t seen you in a while.” He frowned, his discontent quickly smoothed over as his eyes sparkled brightly. Severus wore his usual dark trousers and greyed jumper - both worn but clean. “But I was right, wasn’t I! Magic is real and you’re really a witch.”
“I know.” She nodded politely, fingers fumbling with the end of her braid. “Hermione is too.”
He blinked.
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Lily nodded. “And… I didn’t like how you spoke to her.”
“I didn’t speak to her.” Severus spoke slowly, almost as though testing the words as a frown pulled at his brow.
“Exactly. You just ignored her.”
“Well, I didn’t know she was magic!” He exclaimed with a nasty huff.
“You didn’t bother to get to know her.” Lily amended. “If you had, you would have realised that she’s the most magical of the pair of us.”
“It’s not my fault that she’s a bloody mute.” He folded his arms over his chest. “She didn’t speak to me either.”
“No, Sev.” Lily sighed. “You just… you dismissed her before she could.”
Severus Snape blinked at her words, a furrow forming between his brow. And though Lily wished that they could be friends, there was too much evidence against that notion. He was not deliberately calloused (like Petunia grumbled), nor was he simply oblivious (as Lily had hoped).
It seemed Hermione was right. He was just… coated by a bitter shroud. One she did not want to cling to her, too.
“Lily!” The ginger girl’s head snapped, spying her sister peering from a compartment a little down the train. Her face was bright - those pale eyes lively and utterly fixed upon her. “I found us somewhere to sit! You have to meet these oafs.” She grinned. “They’re the most ridiculous lot I’ve ever seen.”
“Goodbye, Severus.” Lily turned to the boy she had almost befriended. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
With that, she turned her back on the boy she barely knew, traipsing down the corridor until she reached her sister. Hermione was leant against the frame of a compartment, eyes glowing with amusement as they fixed on the three boys that sat inside. The trio were a perfect mix of features: one with black hair, one with brown, and one with blond.
The boy with black hair had it slicked back with gel. Cut close around his ears, a little longer on top and messed slightly as his curls fought the hold. He was the palest of the boys, with skin free of any freckles or moles. A sharp nose and full cheeks completed the oddly aristocratic look of this child, as did the black shirt and trousers that he wore. They were clean, clearly new, and made of a shiny sort-of fabric. And for as regal as he seemed, the smirk upon his thin lips suggested a certain level of impishness that the nobility liked to pretend wasn’t rampant in their ranks. It was obvious in how he was sprayed across the bench, foot propped on the bottom of the window.
Sat beside him was a boy that could only be described as his complete opposite. Despite his lanky height, he’d tucked himself as close to the corner as he possibly could - pale green eyes darting between the compartment and corridor. His tanned skin was littered by freckles and little scars that were long-healed but still faintly present. Long blond waves curled around his ears, almost a curtain around his thin face. Unlike the boy next to him, he donned an old-looking jumper and jeans - thumbs sticking out of worn holes at the edges of the sleeves. He wore his nerves like a familiar coat, with tight muscles and a tighter smile.
For as fretful as the blond boy seemed and as arrogant as the black-haired boy presented, the boy opposite matched in equality. Though he sat widely, his shoulders were tense and eyes a little fearful. They were a wonderful shade, almost akin to a blackthorn tree - more maroon than brown behind his squarish glasses. Despite the sleek straightness of his dark brown hair, it was messed terribly. Probably from how he kept running his hand through the locks, sometimes wincing at he caught at tangled strands. His shirt was crumpled but clearly expensive, patterned with a reddish paisley. His dark skin was clear of blemishes, save for a couple moles by the corner of his lip that tugged with his anxious smiles.
All in all, it was a clear meeting of three boys from very different lives. Delightfully awkward for them all, though the black-haired boy was doing a fairly decent job at masking his discomfort.
“Ah! Another ginger to add to the mix, eh?” The black-haired boy winked at Lily, grinning as she flushed scarlet.
“So you won’t mind then, if we crash your compartment?” Hermione asked with a roll of her eyes, leant against the entrance. “You’re the first lot of first years I’ve found that aren’t insufferable.”
“Not yet, anyways.” Lily muttered, grinning as her twin shot her a reproachful glance.
“So are we alright to join?” Hermione waggled her brows at her sister. It was a gesture Lily had never seen her do, yet after five minutes watching these boys she’d adopted the mischief they radiated. It was oddly spooky.
There was a hefty pause as the three boys stared at the twins.
“Yes!” The bespectacled boy suddenly blurted - his voice an odd mix of Kentish propriety and something unfamiliar, foreign, and utterly musical. “I’m James!”
“Hello, James.” Hermione smiled wryly, nodding his way. “This is my sister, Lily.”
“And this is my sister, Hermione.” Lily chimed in, linking an arm around Hermione’s.
“I’m Sirius.” The black-haired boy grinned.
“And I’m Remus.” The final boy nodded, offering a shy smile. He had a familiar welsh drawl - a pleasant and melodic softness to each syllable.
“You can sit next to me.” James exclaimed, patting the bench beside him as he shuffled closer to the wall.
“Much obliged.” Hermione laughed, pulling her sister to sit next to the window as she propped herself in the middle of the mess. “We got to the station rather late, this morning.”
“Long journey from Cokeworth.” Lily explained.
“I came up from Wrexham.” Remus spoke softly, offering a Lily a little smile. “Dad’s got a dairy by the border.”
“Oh, wow!” Lily beamed. “Are you Muggleborn, too?”
“Half-blood.” He shook his head. “But my Mam inherited the farm from her parents, so Dad keeps it running. Mum made us drive up so she could see me off, too.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Hermione replied politely. “Our Mom works in a florists on Saturdays. Dad’s a plumber.”
“You’re up near some mines, aren’t you?” Remus asked.
“Uh-huh.” Hermione nodded. “Though, Dad’s never worked up there. Says there’s too much soot for his liking.”
“Mrs Waller next door works up at the laundry.” Lily chimed in. “She’s always complaining over how the water turns black after she washes workwear.”
“How riveting.” Sirius deadpanned from opposite.
“Just because you don’t know what we’re discussing, doesn’t mean you need to be flippant.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him, her lip twitching at the boy froze - clearly caught off guard by how well she’d read him.
“Spoken like a Gryffindor.” James grinned at her, prompting Hermione’s nose to scrunch. “What house do you think you’ll end up in, then?” He asked, running a hand through his messed hair.
“Not sure.” Lily shrugged, her twin shooting her a grateful glance at the interception. “Hermione’s practically memorised that book on Hogwarts, so I’m certain she’s got an idea. Likely Ravenclaw with all her smarts, seems a decent place.”
The group all looked to the girl in the middle, Hermione’s cheeks flushing slightly as she pulled at the end of her braid.
“Ah, Lily.” She spoke dryly. “Haven’t you noticed? We’re sat amongst Gryffindors, such a notion is blasphemy to them.”
“Right you are!” James grinned, sitting a little taller as he smiled at her. “My dad was in Gryffindor, ‘where dwell the brave at heart!’, though my mum was a Slytherin.”
“My whole family’s been in Slytherin.” Sirius lamented, flopping deeper onto the seat. “I think I’d leave if I ended up there, though. Who wants to spend seven years in a dungeon?”
“Well I think that Ravenclaw seems alright.” Lily replied, folding her arms over her chest.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Sirius laughed.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” She frowned in reply.
“He’s hiding his lamentation over not knowing what book you’re referring to.” Hermione grinned at her sister, before turning to Sirius with a wicked smile. “It’s called Hogwarts: A History, by the way.”
“Sounds dull.”
“Oh, I don’t know. The chapter on secret passages was quite brilliant.”
“Secret passages?” He blinked, perking up. “Where? How many?”
“You’ll have to read and find out.”
“Blimey! Maybe you’re a Slytherin, then.” He huffed.
“I’d sooner chop off my toes and wear rags than spend time in a snake den.” Hermione replied in her usual matter-of-fact way. It brought a laugh to the compartment - the humour quickly interrupted by a scoff of derision from the corridor. There, stood as though he’d been listening in for quite a while, was Severus Snape. He was looking to Hermione with a seething scowl, as though truly vexed by her words.
“Got a problem with that, mate?” James asked the boy with narrowed eyes - gaze flittering between Severus and the twins.
“No.” Severus replied, though his mild sneer suggested otherwise. “If you’d all rather be brawny than brainy-”
“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” Sirius bit out, glaring at the newcomer.
“Goodbye, Severus.” Hermione sighed deeply, waving a dismissive hand. “I hope Hogwarts is everything you’ve dreamed of it being.”
With a splutter, Severus took the opportunity for a hasty exit - swishing from the doorway with a dramatic flair to rival even that of a Shakespearean actor.
“Blimey, Hermione.” Lily laughed awkwardly. “You really took Mom’s ‘kill ‘em with kindness’ lecture to heart.”
“It isn’t his fault that he’s so…” she trailed off, frowning to herself as she tried to find the right word.
“Irritating?” James offered.
“Obnoxious?” Sirius supplied.
“Downright moody.” Remus quietly huffed from his seat beside them, prompting a little giggle from the ginger girls.
Their conversation teetered off after that. The twins pulled out a book from Hermione’s satchel, laying it between them as they quietly reread one of their favourite tales. Naturally, Sirius and James kept their lively banter going - gaining a few chuckles from both the ginger girls and the shy boy that sat opposite them.
By the time that the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, the girls had hurried off to get changed and the boys were discussing the latest Quidditch match for the English Cup. As neither had really heard of the sport before - their only knowledge being footnotes in the books they’d scoured over summer - they bid the boys goodbye and made their way to the yelling Groundskeeper on their own.
“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” Called the largest man they’d ever seen. He had truly mad hair - frizzy and sticking out from his head like a wild halo - and a scruffy brown beard that was caught by his robes at the bottom. Despite his fur coat that was more burns and scratches than fabric, he wore a beaming smile and bright glee.
“His name is Hagrid.” Hermione whispered to her sister, linking their arms as they descended down the platform.
“Is that so?” Lily raised a brow. “How’d you know that?”
“I just do.” Hermione shrugged, dragging her sister along toward him - ignoring how Lily laughed at yet another of her ‘knowing things’.
“Lovely to meet ya, firs’ years!” Hagrid beamed down at the assembling children. “C’mon, follow me!”
The hoard of eleven year olds followed the large man down a long and winding path, their journey lit only by a lantern and the flickers of moonlight that passed through the tall trees. Whispers of excitement sparked through the children, compounded by Hagrid’s occasional comments on ‘almos’ there’, and ‘you’ll see o’ Hogwarts in a sec’. But the loudest whispers came as the group finally stepped past the trees and found themselves at the edge of a great and dark lake.
Then, did they spy the true visage of Hogwarts Castle.
It was truly something out of a fairytale. Built of pale and brown stone that carried across an entire mountaintop, its windows sparkled with reflections of the starry sky. There were easily a dozen turrets and towers of old copper - vast and marvellous in its might. None of the descriptions had truly captured just how spectacular the sight really was. And yet, as Lily glanced to try and share her excitement with her sister, she saw only sorrow in her eyes.
With a squeeze of Hermione’s arm, the girl snapped from her melancholy to offer a cheeky smile. She let herself be pulled towards the boats as the twins clambered beside two girls with snooty sneers and pug-like noses.
“I’m Lily.” She stuck her hand towards the two, frowning as the pair refused to lift a hand in greeting. Instead, they merely exchanged a rather mean look before they turned to look out onto the lake. Huffing, Lily let her sister pull her to sit - hands interlocked as the fleet of boats began to move forwards.
Once they arrived at the castle, they were led up a long flight of stone steps and ushered to crowd by a ginormous oak door. With a knock from the groundskeeper’s thick fist, the door swung open at once. Inside stood a familiar dark-haired witch.
“Thank you, Hagrid.” McGonagall nodded to the man. “I shall take it from here.”
She pushed the door wide, motioning for the crowd of children to step into entrance hall.
“You could fit our whole primary school in here.” Lily muttered, gasping at the flaming torches that lined the tall walls.
“Wait until you see the Great Hall.” Hermione fondly chuckled in reply.
The group were stilled by another set of large wooden doors. Behind, they could hear the drone of hundred of voices - other students all sat awaiting the show for the night. They did not cross through, not yet. Not when McGonagall called out to the group - voice echoing off the walls with a heavy reverberation.
“Welcome to Hogwarts.” McGonagall smiled down at them. The gesture was a little stiff, but by no means unkind. “The start of term banquet will commence shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. For your time within Hogwarts, these houses will be your family. You will sleep in your house dormitory, take classes with your housemates, and have a common room to spend free time within.”
As she droned on explaining the differing traits of each house, how the rules worked and what merits there were to win each year at the school, Lily took the time to scan the surrounding crowd.
These people would be her company for the next six years. They would eat together, sleep side-by-side, work with each other on class projects, and everything that came with living in the school you attended. And as she looked to these people, she could not see many that looked like her. Few wore ordinary (read ‘Muggle’) clothing beneath their school robes. Many looked to her and Hermione with barely concealed interest - scanning their greyish cardigans beneath the plain black robes. A few even sneered their way before turning to ignore them entirely.
“We’re still the odd ones out, aren’t we?” Lily huffed, turning to her sister with sorrowful eyes.
“Maybe.” Hermione shrugged. “But give them some time. And try to get yourself into Gryffindor, won’t you?”
“Alright.” Lily hummed in amusement. “You’ll be joining me, won’t you? Keep up the good old tradition of sharing a room?”
“You’ll do alright without me, Lily.” Hermione smiled sadly. “You won’t need me to make this place a home.”
“I still want you there.”
“I know.” She sighed, muttering her final words under her breath as though hoping Lily would not hear them. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m a Gryffindor anymore.”
Before she could question those quietly uttered words, Professor McGonagall had begun to lead the crowd through the large doors and into the Great Hall. Soon, her attention was lost to the wonder of such a truly magical place.
The Great Hall was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles that floated in the air - too tall for anyone to touch. They brought a warm glow to the four long tables that the rest of the students were sat at: one blue, one green, one yellow, and one red. At the end of the hall was another long table, placed perpendicular to the rest. There, did the faculty of Hogwarts congregate.
But none of those features mattered much once Lily’s sister pulled her eyes to the ceiling. It was bewitched to look like the sky outside, as Hogwarts: A History had informed them. But the matter-of-fact description could not truly capture the utter brilliance of the velvety blackness above, dotted with stars and wisps of clouds.
It was hard to believe that there was a ceiling there at all, and that the hall didn’t reveal the true sky above.
And beneath that magic, placed on a four-legged stool at the front of the Great Hall, sat a patched and frayed hat. It was still for a moment. Then, with a twitch, a rip formed near the brim - wide as a mouth - and the hat began to sing.
‘Oh, gather ‘round and lend an ear,
By train, by boat, you’ve come to me,
For the time of sorting now is here,
To Ravenclaw go the wise and keen,
Those of bookish smart and intellect,
Where learning reigns for that which is seen,
Perhaps you’ll find your heart as bold,
In Gryffindor where courage calls,
And your daring deed become tales retold,
Or perhaps you’re sharp, with cunning mind,
And power is the prize you claim,
Find Slytherin has droves in kind,
But don’t forget the steadfast few,
For those whose loyalty and patience shine,
Hufflepuff will be the place for you,
So place me here upon your head,
For Hogwarts calls, your journey starts,
And I will see where you’ll be led.’
The whole hall erupted in applause and laughter, save for the utterly flabbergasted first years that crowded the singing hat.
“Blimey.” Lily murmured, turning to Hermione. “I didn’t think it’d actually sing.”
“It’s a yearly tradition.” Hermione smiled at her. “I suppose it likes to flaunt in the short window it gets around students, before it’s shoved back in Dumbledore’s office.”
“Professor Dumbledore.” Lily chastised her sister, groaning as Hermione merely grinned in reply. For as serious and polite as Hermione was, she’d never taken well to authority. Another of her odd quirks, the Evans family had always supposed.
With a nudge, Hermione redirected Lily’s attention to Professor McGonagall - the witch now unfurling a long roll of parchment.
“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she explained. “Abbot, Amelia!”
A blushing girl from near the front stumbled from the group, half-dragging herself towards the front. The hat was placed upon her head - falling right below her eyes, as she sat upon the stool. It only took a moment before the hat called ‘Hufflepuff!’, and the girl was rushing to join the table of yellow as they whooped and cheered.
By the third name, as hush fell upon the hall. It was Sirius from the train - his surname prompting chatter from the Slytherins as several members nudged each other. But as the hat called ‘Gryffindor!’, their smiles fell to horror and the cheers did not sound. Though the Gryffindors were quick to force a cheer, none were blind to how his sorting brought a great unease throughout the room. Especially Sirius, whose head was hung though a smile was clear upon his pale face.
She couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not to have her surname so close to the start of the alphabet. When McGonagall called out ‘Evans, Lily!’, she decided that it was probably best to get it over with instead of standing around waiting.
With a comforting squeeze from Hermione, she lifted her chin and strode towards the stool. The hat was placed upon her head, and soon the world went dark.
‘Oh, there’s but one choice for you,’ a small voice whispered in her ear, ‘better be Gryffindor!’
Grinning, Lily jumped from the seat and ran to the cheering red table. Her robes began to bleed with colour - a red border along the collar and sleeves. Eyes flitting to Hermione, Lily spied only a radiant joy upon her sister’s face. Bright and merry as she applauded.
She sat beside the three Gryffindor to have been sorted so far, offering a warm smile that was met by a blessing grin from Sirius, and kind nods from the two girls she would be rooming with.
“Evans, Marigold!” McGonagall called, offering Hermione an apologetic look at having to use her first name.
Lily sat with bated breath, watching with fear and fretting as her sister sat upon the stool and placed the hat upon her head.
Please be with me, she thought, with hope her desperation might be heard by either her twin or the old hat atop her head, please stay with me.
But the hat did not hear her worry. And her sister, as close as they were, could not read her mind. When the hat spoke a house, it did not speak the same as her own. Instead, almost with mocking, it claimed Hermione as a ‘Hufflepuff’ and soon her sister was rushing to the yellow table as her robes began to shift to match.
Sirius offered her a commiserating glance, applauding with the rest of the school as Hermione sat beside the two others of her year group; a pair of cousins from the Abbott family, Sirius informed her in a whisper.
As the sorting finished - with six others joining her new house - Lily’s eyes remained fixed on her plate. She did not greet the rest of the boys from the train, nor did she introduce herself to the girls that would be sharing her room. There would be time for it later, when she wasn’t panicking at seeing her sister don robes unlike her own.
But eventually, as the Headmaster finished his opening remarks and food appeared before them, she was forced to draw her attention to the others as she piled potatoes and beef stew upon her plate.
“Never would have thought your sister would be right.” Sirius told her, his face gaunt as he looked between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.
“Hermione has a habit of it.” Lily shrugged in reply.
“I would’ve thought your sister would be here with you.” James frowned, his eyes darting the the Hufflepuff table.
“Me too.” Lily admitted, craning her neck to spy her twin. “But Hermione’s always had a terribly strong sense of justice. I’m sure she told the hat that she wanted to be wherever I was, and it put her there since’s she’s so loyal.”
“Patient too, considering how she put up with Sirius’s nattering on the train.” James nodded sagely.
Lily giggled at his words, eyes fixed upon her sister until she saw the girl’s head darting to face her - a soft nod shot her way before she turned back to the other’s sat around her. It was barely a glance, really. Enough to sate her concern, but not enough to soothe her worries.
“She’ll… she’ll be alright, won’t she?” A frown tugged the ginger’s lips. “We’ve never been this far apart before.”
“I’m sure your sister is just as stubborn as you.” James smiled.
“Hufflepuff won’t know that hit them.” Sirius grinned.
And though she did not know how well she’d cope with being apart, Lily knew that much was true. In fact, no one was ready for the whirlwind of Hermione Evans.
Lily just hoped her sister would be alright without her. She wasn’t sure she would be, after all.
——————*——————
For your records (and so when these names pop up later, you can flick back here to double check the houses), the sorting goes as follows:
Gryffindor (10) -
- Sirius Black
+ Alice Brown
+ Taylor Burgess
+ Lily Evans
- Remus Lupin
+ Emma Macmillian
+ Marlene McKinnon
+ Paris McLaggen
- Peter Pettigrew
- James Potter
Slytherin (9) -
- Hercules Avery
+ Rosemary Avery
+ Sasha Bulstrode
+ Ava Clearwater
- Antonin Dolohov
+ Yasmin Gibbon
- Gregor Mulciber
- Aykut Shafik
- Severus Snape
Ravenclaw (8) -
- Barty Crouch Jr
- Caradoc Dearborn
- Marcus Edgecombe
- Xenophillius Lovegood
+ Polly Patel
+ Jodie Prichard
+ Pandora Rosier
- Aiden Turner
Hufflepuff (8) -
+ Amelia Abbot
- Dennis Abbot
+ Amelia Bones
+ Hermione Evans
- Augustus Rookwood
+ Mary McDonald
- Kingsley Shacklebolt
- Wilbur Turner
(Male students are indicated with a ‘-‘, and female students by a ‘+’)