|¡| THE SORTING HAT |¡|
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“Time for chapter eight,” Thanatos informs with a grin.
THE SORTING HAT
The door swung open at once. a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Hyacinth’s first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
“Minnie!!” Sirius and the Weasley twins cheer at the sight of the witch.
“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.
“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
Annabeth couldn't help the stars that occupied her eyes at the architectural genius put into the interior design .
Grover and Percy share looks of amusement at this, knowing of Annabeths ‘obsession’ with architecture.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hyacinth 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.
“So Hogwarts is a magic boarding school,” Percy says with a grimace. Still to date, he hasn’t had a positive time at a boarding school for all that he’s been in and out of them.
“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.
“You can always count on Minnie to not show her house bias so clearly,” Remus chuckles, despite being the sensible one of the group, he is still a little shit who was a part of the pranking group that terrorised the halls of Hogwarts.
While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
“The house cup doesn’t even mean anything, they don't get additional privileges or even an actual cup, there is no point of there even being a house cup,” Remus says, having realised it in 4th year.
“And you didn’t think to tell me or Prongsie of that!?” Sirius screeched in mock betrayal.
“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.”
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville’s cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron’s smudged nose. Hyacinth nervously tried to flatten her hair.
“You wont ever be able to flatten the mop Prongslette,” Sirius chuckles before Remus adds on,
“I don’t know pads, Lily managed to style James’ hair once, while it wasn’t straight, it looked more presentable,”
“What?! How?!” Sirius demanded.
“By curling his hair the muggle way, his messy hair was just due to not styling it right,” Remus shrugged, “He liked how it looked but decided that a. It was too much work having to style it and b. Hewas known for his untamable messy hair, so why give that up?”
Sirius just looked astounded, causing many in the room to laugh at his reaction. Percy was just imagining how Hyacinth would look with curly hair, if she’s already this beautiful with messy hair, imagine how that would increase with her hair in curls.
“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”
She left the chamber. Hyacinth swallowed.
“How exactly do they sort us into houses?” she asked Ron.
“Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”
Hyacinth fought against the instinct to roll her eyes at that, there was no way they would have them get hurt, didn’t matter if it was a magic school or not, it wouldn’t be open if they allowed harm to come to the students.
“Cinth! We love you and all, but please calm down on the sass towards our brother,” The amused Weasleys chorus.
“She has a point, no self-respecting school would allow a student to come to harm,” Athena says, earning a nod from Annabeth, Artemis and Hera.
The current Hogwarts students just look away and whistle nervously, causing many to become suspicious at why they’d react that way.
Then something happened that made her startle— several people behind her screamed.
“What the —?”
She gasped. So did the people around her. 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 —”
“Damn, and here i thought i was special,” Nico drawls playfully.
“I have always wondered were they came from and why they were still there.” Charlie muttered before practically growling, “Especially Peeves, that fuc-”
“Oookay, thats enough,” Bill says while covering Charlies mouth.
“You learned a lot from those dragons didn’t ya Charlie,” Fred teases.
“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.
“Of course no one answered, they’re terrified,” Bill and Remus chuckles.
“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.
“Honestly, the relief of the ghosts leaving compared to the nerves of being sorted, we go through an emotional rollercoaster,” Draco says overdramatically.
“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”
Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Hyacinth got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Hyacinth had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. 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.
“Damn..” Many mutter at the description of the interior design of the hall, Annabeth yet again had stars in her eyes, admiring the architectural integrity of the building.
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. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Hyacinth looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, “Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.”
“I understand her thirst for knowledge at being thrust into this new world, but not everybody will,” Apollo sighs, earning a nod from Hermes, and more shockingly, Annabeth.
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open on to the sky.
Hyacinth quickly looked down again as 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. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have let it in the house.
“The good ole sorting hat,” the Weasley twins sing wistfully, Draco pulling a disgusted face at the old worn piece of cloth, Aphrodite and her children sharing the look.
Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Hyacinth thought amused, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she looked at it, too. 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;
Remus, Sirius and the Weasleys cheer at the mention of their house,
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;
Athena smiles at the description of this house, and Luna grins at her houses description.
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
Sirius and the Weasley twins let out joking ‘ewws’ at the Slytherin house, Sirius less joking then the Weasley twins.
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.
“While that tune is amusing, the ‘thinking cap’ needs an update,” Hades snarks, still not over the state of the hat.
“So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispered to Hyacinth. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.”
Hyacinth nodded, trying to make it seem as though she was listening. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but with all the dust and how dirty it looked, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it anywhere near her.
“Dont worry dear, no one with self respect wants it near them either,” Aphrodite coos.
Despite this, the hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Hyacinth didn’t feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. She began to wonder if it was based on what they wanted to be, or what they were, after all everyone had those traits along with the capability to develop them.
“Well, thats given me something else to think about,” Remus says, earning a nod from Athena, who while never having used the hat, was quite curious as to how it worked, along with many others.
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. “Abbott, Hannah!”
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause —
“I dont think Hyacinth should be allowed to describe anything, not when we need to be polite at least,” Percy jokes, causing people to laugh.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hyacinth saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
“Bones, Susan!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
“Boot, Terry!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Hyacinth could see Ron’s twin brothers catcalling.
“Really boys,” Bill says unamused.
“We were bored,- and she was the first Gryffindor,” the twins Pout
“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Hyacinth’s imagination, after all she’d heard about Slytherin, they seemed like a nasty bunch. However, why had people just sprouted prejudice against this house, it only succeeded in sprouting a seed of respect towards Professor Mcgonigal for introducing all the houses with the same level of respect.
“As she should, Minnie is the best!” Sirius cheers with Fred and George cheering along.
She was starting to feel definitely sick now. She remembered being picked for teams during gym at her old school. She had always been last to be chosen, not because she was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked her.
“Another reason to hunt them down,” Percy says calmly, looking every bit of the phrase ‘calm before the storm’. Sally just looks at her son with love and amusement.
“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
Sometimes, Hyacinth noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. “Finnigan, Seamus,” the sandy-haired boy next to Hyacinth in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
“Granger, Hermione!”
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned.
“Why are you groaning Ronniekins- thats your future girlfriend,” The twins tease.
A horrible thought struck Hyacinth, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if she wasn’t chosen at all? What if she just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off her head and said there had obviously been a mistake and she’d better get back on the train?
Remus sighs with amusement “That wouldn’t happen Thia,”
Hyacinth then shook her head, no. she belonged here and that letter was proof.
“Yes! We love the self confidence,” Aphrodite cheers, causing both Hephestus and Ares to look at her strangely before catching each others eyes and glaring at the other.
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag.”
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”
“I did not swagger,” Draco protests, embarrassed,
“Sorry Dray, that was most certainly a swagger,” George teases.
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren’t many people left now. “Moon”…, “Nott”…, “Parkinson”…, then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil”…, then “Perks, Sally-Anne”…, and then, at last —
“Potter, Hyacinth!”
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
“Wow, this is like being with percy in the mortal realm where he was a wanted person,” Annabeth snarks amused.
“Potter, did she say?”
“The Hyacinth Potter?”
Calmly making her way to the stool, inwardly grimacing at the attention. She let the Hat fall onto her head with little resistance.
“I would have put up a resistance, I would rather not have a grimy piece of cloth on my head. Thank you very much.” Aphrodite grimaces, Persephone and Hades humming with agreement.
“Hmm,” said a small voice in her ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, A my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting….So where shall I put you?”
Hyacinth shrugged, she couldn’t care less.
“True, it doesn’t matter what house your in, Uncle Pads and Uncle Moony will always love ya Progslette,” Sirius says with crocodile tears falling down his cheeks. Remus just stares at him unamused.
“Hmmm… no real preference huh…. Thats a first,” the small voice says amused.
“Whats your name? I cant keep calling you the small voice,” Hyacinth asked politely in her head,
“My, what manners,” The voice replies a grin clear in its voice, “ My name… Alaster, was the name i was given,”
“Hello Alaster,” She greets politely, “Put me wherever you deem fit,”
“....Thats his name? Alaster?” Draco says astounded,
“ Well then, better be GRYFFINDOR!”
“Woohoo!” the Gryffindors cheer.
Before McGonagal took Alaster off her head, she says “I will come find you at some point this year and clean you up.”
“Thank you Miss Potter,” Alaster says amused.
“Please do, the hat looks horrendously dirty,” Aphrodite mutters.
“Please, call me Hyacinth,” She says with a mischievous grin, similar to that of her fathers.
“Now you know why i call her Prongslette, shes a mini Prongs, im telling you that now,” Sirius starts an obviously continuing argument with Remus who just turns away.
With being sorted, she finally made her way toward the Gryffindor table. She was so relieved to have been chosen, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet.
Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Hyacinth sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she’d seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Hyacinth the sudden, horrible feeling she’d just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
“I hated it when they did that,” Bill shivers at the memory earning amused looks from those around him.
She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Hyacinth grinned back. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Hyacinth recognized him at once from the card he’d gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train.
Dumbledore’s silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Hyacinth spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
“He is very strange, be careful around him Hyxie,” Percy mutters, having come up with his own nickname for Hyacinth.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Hyacinth at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron’s turn. He was pale green by now. Hyacinth wished him luck and a second later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”
Hyacinth clapped calmly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her.
“Well done, Ron, excellent,” said Percy Weasley pompously across Hyacinth.
“Well,- he could have been called- pompous Percy,” the Twins joke, grinning proudly when the get laughs.
As “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin, she couldn’t help but notice how he was kind of cute.
At this, Percy began to feel a little tugging in his heart, and annoyance to curl around his thoughts, he knew he wasn’t going to like this Blaise Zabini guy. Percy grits his teeth and clenches his hands on the seat, Sally sees her sons condition and smiles, even with all the pressure he’s been under, he can still act like a normal child, even if he wasn’t one.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Hyacinth looked down at her empty gold plate. she had only just realised how hungry she was. The chocolate frogs seemed ages ago.
“Who wants to start a petition to have the Dursleys eradicated,” Annabeth announces, most having realised that the main reason she got the sweets on the train there was because she was unable to pack actual food, courtesy of the Dursleys.Many agreed with vigour, namely Percy and Poseidon, while being calm, they were the most possessive of things they deemed ‘theirs’.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
“Welcome,” he said. “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. Everybody clapped and cheered. Hyacinth didn’t know whether to laugh or not.
“The crazy old coot,” Hecate sneers at the man.
“Is he — a bit mad?” she asked Percy uncertainly.
“Mad?” said Percy airily. “He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Hyacinth?”
“I think your brother might be a bit mad as well,” Pollux says with a grin from his position next to his father Dionysus.
Hyacinth’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
“Wow, sounds like a lot, but where there any seasoning on the food aside from salt and pepper,” Clarisse snarks.
“No there wasn’t,” Millia pipes up, appearing out of no where, “Honestly, it was white, white people food,” Millia snorts before disappearing after her piece was said.
The Dursleys had never exactly starved Hyacinth, but she’d never been allowed to eat as much as she liked.
“They didn’t feed you properly, your malnourished sweetheart, they let you eat ever so often and even then it was just enough to keep you going,” Hera argues.
Dudley had always taken anything that Hyacinth really wanted, even if It made him sick. Hyacinth filled her plate with a little bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat, slowly so as to make sure she wouldn’t throw it up. It was all delicious.
“That fat fuck,” Percy mutters earning a slap around the head from his mother.
“That does look good,” said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Hyacinth cut up her steak.
“Can’t you —?”
“I haven’t eaten for nearly five hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.”
“I, personally, would hate that,” Grover says causing Annabeth and Percy to laugh.
“I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you — you’re Nearly Headless Nick!”
“I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —” the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
“Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?”
“Not while you're eating!” Charlie groans.
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn’t going at all the way he wanted.
“Like this,” he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly.
Many groan in disgust at the concept, despite having seen worse as demi-gods.
Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, “So — new Gryffindors! I hope you’re going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron’s becoming almost unbearable — he’s the Slytherin ghost.”
Hyacinth looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Hyacinth was amused to see, didn’t look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
“Damn, she really hated ya!” George wheezes in amusement.
“How did he get covered in blood?” asked Seamus with great interest.
“I’ve never asked,” said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…
“Heaven,” Many foodies sighed dreamily.
As Hyacinth helped herself to a treacle tart, which she quickly deemed her favourite dessert,
“Remind me to always have treacle tart on hand please mum,” Percy mutters to Sally, who just nods in amusement.
the talk turned to their families.
“Oof,” Many wince with the reminder of Hyacinths lack of decent family at the timing of the book.
“I’m half-and-half,” said Seamus. “Me dad’s a Muggle. Mom didn’t tell him she was a witch ’til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him.”
The others laughed.
“I dont know why they're laughing, that could have ended terribly, like the end of his and the mothers life terribly,” Remus stresses.
“What about you, Neville?” said Ron.
“Well, my gran brought me up and she’s a witch,” said Neville, “but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight.
Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.”
“He shouldn’t be allowed near children at all!” Hestia shouts horrified.
On Hyacinth’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons (“I do hope they start right away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult —”; “You’ll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — ”).
“Are we 100% sure she isn't your spawn?” Poseidon questions amused.
Hyacinth, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
Aphrodite grimaces, “Why allow your hair to get that greasy,”
It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Hyacinth’s eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Hyacinth’s face.
Hyacinth let out a sharp hiss in pain.
“That will not bode well,” Percy sighs.
“What is it?” asked Percy.
“Its nothing, sorry for worrying you,” Hyacinth lies through her teeth.
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Hyacinth had gotten from the teacher’s look — a feeling that he didn’t like Hyacinth at all.
“The greasy git Snivellous doesn’t like you, he hated your father and your his look alike,” Sirius chuckles. Earning a smack around the head from Sirius.
“Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” she asked Percy.
“Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to — everyone knows he’s after Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.”
Hyacinth watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn’t look at her again.
“Nobody wants to be in his sights, unless you're a Slytherin,” Charlie mutters.
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
“Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”
Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
Hermes looks at the Weasley twins before deciding that one way or another, he would adopt the two.
“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
“And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”
“That's like waving a sweet in front of a child and telling them they cant have it! That fool is insane!” Hestia shouts,
“”He isn’t insane, yet, but he certainly is crazy,” Dionysus says from behind his wine glass, enjoying the fact that he can finally consume alcohol for the time being.
Hyacinth laughed, but he was one of the few who did.
“He’s not serious?” she muttered to Percy.
“Must be,” said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. “It’s odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we’re not allowed to go somewhere — the forest’s full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.”
“They dont have to tell you everything!” Fred groans.
“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Hyacinth noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.
“I have a feeling I'm either going to enjoy this, or completely hate it,” Apollo remarks with a grin.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!”
And the school bellowed:
“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they’re bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we’ve forgot,
just do your best, we’ll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.”
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
“I loved it!” Apollo cackled with glee. Whereas many others hated the stress the discord caused to their ears.
“Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Hyacinth’s legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Hyacinth was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.
“Peeves,” The Hogwarts goers groan.
“Peeves,” Percy whispered to the first years. “A poltergeist.” He raised his voice, “Peeves — show yourself.”
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
“Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?”
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
“Oooooooh!” he said, with an evil cackle. “Ickle Firsties! What fun!”
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
“Go away, Peeves, or the Baron’ll hear about this, I mean it!” barked Percy.
“That isn’t how you deal with him, offer him pranking supplies on your own terms,” Sirius says.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville’s head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
“You want to watch out for Peeves,” said Percy, as they set off again. “The Bloody Baron’s the only one who can control him, he won’t even listen to us prefects. Here we are.”
“He listened to James on occasion, although that was when they were planning pranks,” Remus sighs with unbidden amusement.
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
“Password?” she said.
“Caput Draconis,” said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
“Really does seem cosy,” Many sigh at the warm atmosphere.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.
Hyacinth ended up in the same Dorm as Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Drained, she collapsed on the bed that had her belongings around and promptly fell asleep.
“Don't blame her, i did the exact same thing,” Sirius chuckles with Remus.
Perhaps Hyacinth had eaten a bit too much, because she had a very strange dream. She was wearing Professor Quirrell’s turban, which kept talking to her, telling her she must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was her destiny. Hyacinth told the turban she couldn’t be bothered to get resorted into Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully, until there was a burst of green light and Hyacinth woke, sweating and shaking.
“That would explain a lot of things that happened that year,” Draco and the twins groan.
She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn’t remember the dream at all.
“For Gods sake! Of course she won’t remember something as crucial as that!” Annabeth admonishes.
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Thanatos takes a break, taking a sip of water and sighs, allowing his throat a good rest.
“Thanatos, how did Hyacinth become the Master, or well Mistress, of death?” Percy asks politely, others with him wondering the same question,
“Well, it was a couple months ago when it was fully recognised, it all happened when…”
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