Chapter 2
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Y/n’s first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.
“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”
She pulled the door wide. The stone walls of the entrance hall were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Y/n could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.
“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.” She left the chamber.
Y/n swallowed. She knew that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all in Gryffindor. She supposed things wouldn’t be too bad if she was put in a different house like Ravenclaw or something, but still. She’d rather be in the same house as her brother. It would make things much easier on the lot of them, and it would align well with what Dumbledore said about her sticking close to him.
That was another thing. That letter—that damn letter—kept weighing on her mind. Something was going on, but what? Was she overthinking it? Was it simply because Sirius Black had escaped, and that was the reason why Dumbledore wanted her here with Harry?
Several people suddenly screamed. Y/n almost whipped out her wand defensively, but paused when she saw what they were gawking at.
About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —”
“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?”
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
“New students!” said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?”
A few people nodded mutely.
“Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old House, you know.”
“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.”
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”
Y/n got into line behind a boy with sandy hair and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.
Y/n spotted the table full of red and gold-clad students. She looked over the large group. Ron was there with his brothers and sister—all redheaded like him—but Hermione and Harry weren’t there. Y/n was a bit disappointed Harry wouldn’t be here to witness her Sorting, but she understood. Hermione was probably accompanying him to the hospital wing or something.
Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard’s hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:
“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,
But don’t judge on what you see,
I’ll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There’s nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can’t see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you’ve a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on!
Don’t be afraid!
And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)
For I’m a Thinking Cap!”
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding 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 said. “Keagan, Bo!” A pink-faced girl with a brown braid stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down.
A moment’s pause —
“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Bo went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Y/n saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
“Pratchett, Hailey!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Hailey scuttled off to sit next to Bo.
“Bits, John!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with John as he joined them.
“Johnson, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Smith, Sophia” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.
Y/n was starting to feel a bit more nervous, now.
There weren’t many people left now. “Moon” … , “Nott” … , “Pakvi” … , then “Picket, Sally” … , and then, at last —
“Potter, Y/n!”
As Y/n stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
“Potter, did she say?”
“Like Harry Potter?”
“There’s another? But I thought—”
The last thing Y/n saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.
“Hmm,” said a small voice in her ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. So much like your brother, but all at once so unlike your brother.”
What does that mean? Y/n thought bitterly.
The hat seemed to ignore her. “Interesting, interesting. I see ambition, but with that comes the overlap of bravery, yes… A true Thunderbird, but you could have been a Wampus….”
What does that have to do with anything?
The hat again ignored her. “Hmm…there is something inside you, something that I can’t quite put my finger on….something your brother didn’t have…let’s see…better be—SLYTHERIN!”
Y/n heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. Her heart plummeted, and she took off the hat. The lights from the Great Hall blinded her and she blinked. She caught sight of Professor McGonagall’s face. There was something in her expression, but Y/n couldn’t read it. The woman took her wand and muttered something, then flicked it towards Y/n. The crest on her robe changed from the four houses to the emerald green of the Slytherin serpent. It seemed as if her fate was sealed.
She walked shakily toward the Slytherin table and sat down. She was greeted warmly from a few of the girls, but a good number of them were giving her odd looks. She didn’t blame them—she knew that most people probably expected her to be in Gryffindor.
She looked over at the Gryffindor table. Ron’s jaw was dropped, but he shut it and looked away when he saw Y/n watching him. Some of the Gryffindor’s looked almost betrayed, as if they wanted to scream, No, hey, the Potters belong in Gryffindor!
Y/n met Ginny’s eyes. The girl gave her a small, comforting smile, and Y/n was surprised how much better it made her feel.
And yet….there was something about what the hat had said…
There is something inside you, something that I can’t quite put my finger on….something your brother didn’t have…
She could see the High Table properly now. In the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore’s silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Y/n spotted Professor Lupin, too, still in his shabby robes. Strange how someone so young could look so aged at the same time.
“Is it true?” came a voice from a few seats down. Y/n looked up to see Malfoy sniggering.
“Your brother fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? He actually fainted?”
“Shove off,” Y/n muttered. If this is what she was going to have to deal with at Hogwarts….well. It was going to be a very long few years.
The Great Hall doors opened and Y/n watched as Hermione and Harry both entered. She could see the confusion on Harry’s face as he looked around the Gryffindor table, no doubt looking for her. When Ron began to talk to Harry—probably explaining what happened—Y/n looked away. She didn’t want to see what Harry’s reaction was, at least not right now. They could talk later. It would be fine. She’d be fine.
Dumbledore stood. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose.
“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…”
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.
“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors,” he said.
Dumbledore paused; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound. “On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.
“First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Y/n among them, status as a Slytherin be damned. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
Y/n’s eyes fell on Professor Snape, the Potions master, who was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. According to Harry, it was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but I was still startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing.
“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
Applause thundered, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Y/n leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby-red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard. She should have known—who else would have assigned them a biting book? She still remembered the way she had to bind the cover together with three thick belts to get it to stop snarling.
“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Y/n, suddenly ravenous, helped herself to everything she could reach and began to eat. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Y/n wasn’t particularly eager to finish—she’d have to talk to Harry, then.
She had one job. One job, and that was to be there for Harry. And she couldn’t have even done that. With her being in Slytherin, that was going to be much, much harder. She knew that the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalries were the worst of the lot. Maybe she should talk to Dumbledore. Ask to transfer back to Ilvermorny….
But no, she couldn’t do that. She had promised Harry to stay, and she’d be damned if she broke that promise.
At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed.
Y/n stood and rushed over to the Gryffindor table, a dot of emerald green swimming up the river of students towards the cluster of red and gold.
“Y/n,” Hermione said as she spotted her. “Well, er, congratulations.” Y/n could tell that Hermione was surprised, maybe even a bit uncomfortable, but it was sweet that she tried to be accepting anyways.
She couldn’t read Harry’s face.
“Harry, I—”
“Dumbledore told us to go to bed,” Ron cut in. “We have to go.”
Y/n’s brow scrunched. Ron? Ron was acting like this? “But—”
“We have to go,” Ron said more sharply, taking Harry by the arm and pulling him away. Before Y/n could protest, they were lost in the sea of students heading out of the Great Hall.
She huffed a frustrated sigh, then realized Slytherin was nearly gone. She hurried over to catch up with the rest, not wanting to get left behind. They streamed out of the Great Hall and down a side corridor, where they went down a flight of stairs….and another….and another. With each story descended, the atmosphere grew colder. It was a far cry from the common room Y/n once had in Thunderbird Tower.
We passed through a large door, behind which was a set of steps leading down to….the dungeons? Was Y/n seeing this correctly? Their dormitories were in the dungeons?
Eventually, the students came to a stop in front of a bare stretch of stone.
“Listen, all of you!” a voice called from up front. It was a seventh-year girl with blue streaks in her hair and eyeshadow the color of silt. “I’m Rowen Wayne, Slytherin Prefect. The password to the common room changes every fortnight, and it gets posted on the noticeboard. Now, If you forget the password I’m about to share, I’ll hex you at dinner. If you share the password, I’ll hex you at breakfast so the effects last all day, then when dinner rolls around I’ll let Filch hang you up by your ankles in his office. No outsider has entered the common room for more than seven centuries. Are we clear?”
There were some murmurs of acknowledgement, though they were the most defined in the first year circles. Y/n almost wanted to laugh. They obviously still didn’t know about Harry and Ron sneaking their way inside with Polyjuice Potion last year.
Satisfied, Rowen turned back to the stretch of stone. “Carpe Diem.”
The stone pulled back, revealing a passage lit by torches. Rowen lead them down it, with the first years huddling together, terrified. Y/n was more annoyed than terrified, but she still felt a kinship towards them. Seriously, who put a common room in the dungeons?
The common room itself had a grand atmosphere, with stone walls and greenish lamps and chairs. There were lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas and dark wood tables. The walls were decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins, and there was a large fire roaring in the hearth, but that’s not what drew Y/n’s attention.
Along one wall, there were great big circular windows that let students view the depths of the Lake. Kelp and seaweed danced in the current, and Y/n could have sworn that she saw the curious head of a merperson peek out before quickly retreating. Along the length of the windows ran a long, cushioned bench.
The girls and boys divided to head to their dormitories. Y/n found herself grouped with three others—a thin girl with dark skin and silvery braided hair, a girl with a nasty scar along her collarbone who had slitted eyes, and a girl with the sharpest eyeliner and biggest hoops Y/n had ever seen.
The girl with the scar collapsed tiredly on her bed without saying a word, and the other two laughed.
“Do you know when we’ll get our class schedules?” Y/n asked the black girl. She didn’t answer, still looking at the girl with the scar.
“She’s deaf,” the eyelined girl said. “And the answer to your question is tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Oh,” Y/n said. “Thanks.”
“I’m Val,” she went on. “That’s Solene, and that’s Emi,” she said, gesturing to the black girl and then the scarred girl.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”
Solene was now looking at them and she waved, a giant smile lighting up her face. She began to sign something.
“I’m sorry,” Y/n said awkwardly. “I don’t know sign language.”
Val signed Y/n’s response and Solene shrugged, still smiling. She didn’t seem too put off.
“You’ll pick up on it,” Val said. “I didn’t know it either when I first met Sol, but you learn a thing or two after rooming for two years.”
“You guys have all been together that long?”
Val nodded. “Yep. The fourth girl we used to room with was a total arse, so I’m glad you’re here now. Got the other Potter, didn’t we?”
Y/n smiled a little awkwardly, not sure what to say to that. “Yeah, I suppose you did.”
“What did your brother say? About the whole Slytherin-and-not-Gryffindor thing?”
“Um…” Y/n shook her head, remembering Ron’s cold front. “We didn’t really get a chance to talk.
Val was about to say something else, but Y/n beat her to it. “I’m a little tired, I think I’m gonna head to bed,” she said swiftly. “Um, it was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise,” Val said, climbing into her bed. “Goodnight, roomie.”
Y/n bit her and Solene goodnight, then climbed into her bed. She drew the curtains shut, not wanting the others to see her in case any tears appeared on her cheeks.