Chapter 1
Hermione Granger was barely able to contain her excitement.
Her new but already well-read edition of “Hogwarts: A History” was open in her lap, but for what was probably the first time in her life, she couldn’t focus on a book as she looked out of the train window, trying to wrap her head around the fact that shortly, she would actually enter the school.
For now, she sat in a compartment all on her own, but she hoped that this would be different next year. In the Muggle school she had attended until last term, she had been an outsider, not only because of her love for books and learning, but also because weird things had kept happening around her, especially when she had become upset or scared.
This had terrified her peers and parents alike and both had reacted similarly: Ostracism and sometimes abuse, both in word and deed. At home she tried not to draw any attention to herself and spent most of her time in her room, reading and studying. At school she did participate in class, she had refused to allow her classmates’ dislike for her to affect her marks, but during breaks and on the way to and from home she had always tried to avoid them as best she could.
As result, Hermione had never felt like she belonged anywhere, until the woman who had introduced herself as Professor Minerva McGonagall had come to her home to explain to her and her parents that she was in fact a witch and that the things that had happened were caused by accidental magic, which magical children were prone to when experiencing strong emotions. They had been told that there was a school for witches and wizards where they would learn to control and effectively use their magic and how to live and work in a magical society that existed unbeknownst to Muggles (non-magical people).
For the first time in her young life, everything made sense.
At first she had feared that her parents wouldn’t allow her to go, but getting rid of her seemed to be too much of a perk to resist. It stung, but that had soon been forgotten, at least for the time being, when Professor McGonagall had taken her to Diagon Alley, because both her mother and father had refused to set foot into such a place. It had been amazing, especially Flourish and Botts. Professor McGonagall had made sure she got everything she needed for Hogwarts and a few extra books to learn about the school itself and the Wizarding World. After her parents’ behaviour, the witch didn’t seem to feel bad about spending more of their money than absolutely necessary. In general, she had seemed rather sympathetic with the young witch’s situation.
Hermione had spent the last few weeks devouring all these books more than once and had even tried a few simple spells with her new wand, since under-age magic wouldn’t be tracked until she had actually started attending Hogwarts.
It had gone well and she couldn’t wait to learn everything she could and maybe, now that she would attend a school full of people like her, even make a few friends.
The train came to a halt and she got out to find a giant, somewhat shabby man with a beard and a friendly booming voice who was calling the first years to him. He introduced himself as Hagrid and Hermione immediately liked him. They were asked to leave their luggage behind and get into a boat by the lake.
When all first years were seated, the boats started moving on their own and like many of her new schoolmates, Hermione had a broad smile on her lips when the castle came into view, standing large on a cliff, all windows alight. It was beautiful.
Soon the boat ride was over and Hagrid led them into the castle where Professor McGonagall waited at the entrance to what could only be the Great Hall where, as she had read in “Hogwarts: A History” the students would be sorted into one of the four houses, named after the founders: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.
Hermione was reasonably sure she would go to Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor wouldn’t be too bad either, she guessed. She didn’t really see herself as a Hufflepuff and although she thought she would fit into Slytherin, as she had always been ambitious and competitive, she didn’t think she would end up there. According to “Hogwarts: A History” a Muggle-born had very little to no chance to be sorted into that house. There were the occasional half-bloods, but most Slytherin students were so-called purebloods, as Salazar Slytherin had apparently not wanted Muggle-born witches and wizards to be admitted to Hogwarts in the first place.
She looked around and her eyes widened when she saw a black-haired boy with striking green eyes and a lightning-formed scar on his forehead. This was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. She had read all about him. Now he was standing a few metres away from her, talking to a red-haired boy with a bit of dirt on his nose.
Professor McGonagall’s voice brought her back to the presence and she looked up at the teacher, clad in bright emerald-green robes as opposed to the Muggle clothes she had worn in Hermione’s home, probably to not shock her parents too much. She welcomed them to Hogwarts, explained what Hermione had already read and re-read multiple times: How the members of their houses would be like their family, how they could win and lose house points as a reward or punishment and how the house with the most points would be rewarded with the House Cup. She ended her little speech by telling them to smarten themselves up as they would be sorted in front of everyone very soon. Then she left them to wait.
As nervous as Hermoine was, there was no use in trying to tame her bushy locks, so she just waited quietly.
Students speculated how the Sorting would take place and most of them apparently thought there would be some kind of test.
While the logical part in Hermione’s brain told her that was ridiculous as none of them had any experience, she almost automatically started to nervously recite quietly to herself what she had learned from her books so far.
At least until she noticed the boy on her right, white-blond hair with grey eyes, smirk at her. She blushed and fell quiet, like everyone else.
At least until some students behind her screamed in surprise and even fright. Frantically, Hermione turned around and held her breath for a moment. She had read about the ghosts, but seeing them was a whole different thing. They were white and somewhat transparent, glimmering a little, as they glided towards the Great Hall.
They were talking among each other, until what must have been the Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff, greeted them with a bright, welcoming smile. He was easy to differentiate from all the other ghosts, and so was the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House. He was the only one who actually looked scary with his cold eyes and the silvery bloodstains on his robes.
Hermione froze when that ghost stopped in front of her, looked at her for what seemed a long time and then continued his way into the Great Hall, whispering quietly to one of the other ghosts, who looked back at her with wide eyes.
She didn’t know what that meant. Maybe he didn’t like her because she was Muggle-born, but she certainly wasn’t the only one among the new students. Or was she? And how would he have known?
Nervously, she bit her lips, but she didn’t have time to dwell as Professor McGonagall reappeared and led them into the Great Hall.
Although she had read all about it, the sight that awaited them was amazing. At the far end of the Hall the teachers were seated and below there were four long tables, where the older students already sat. Hermione knew that each house had a table. Over the tables countless candles floated, bathing the hall in a warm light. The ceiling was, as Hermione knew, enchanted to reflect the sky, so that it looked like there was no ceiling at all. Right now, it was a night sky, sprinkled with stars and just a few lonely clouds.
Her eyes fell on the teachers’ table, at the centre of which sat an old man with a bright smile, half-moon glasses and a very long beard. That had to be the headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore! He was one of the most influential people in the Wizarding World. He had defeated the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 in a duel and had been an important figure in the Wizarding War against another dark wizard, who had gone by the name of Lord Voldemort. That name still invoked fear among magical folk and so apparently no one wanted to say it out loud, which was why he was often just called He Who Must not be Named. Hermione thought that was completely ridiculous and childish. There had been terrible people in Muggle history as well, like Jack the Ripper, Hitler or Stalin, but no one was afraid to say those names out loud. It wasn’t like that would summon them, even in the Wizarding World saying a name wouldn’t summon the dead. Or the living for that matter. But Voldemort was dead, thanks to the Boy Who Lived, who was standing in front of her now. How that had exactly worked, Hermione had no idea, but she blamed that on her inferior understanding of magic. A fact she was determined to change.
Anyway, it was a bit awe-inspiring to see Albus Dumbledore in person.
To everyone’s relief, there was no test, just an old hat that had been enchanted by the four founders to talk … and sing apparently.
Hermione watched engrossed as the first students were called forth to sit on a stool in front of the teachers table and the hat was placed on their heads. It seemed like the hat could also read minds or judge the character, because that was how it was determined which house the students would be sorted into.
When it was her turn, it was all she could do not to look too terrified as she sat down and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head.
“Ah, that is easy.” She was startled when she heard the voice in her head, a voice only she could hear right now. “I haven’t seen one like you in decades. There’s only one choice for you.” And out loud it called, “SLYTHERIN”.
When a stunned Hermione made her way to her house table, there was polite applause from the other Slytherins, but deathly quiet from the other tables.
Well, she told herself, it wasn’t too bad. She was, after all, ambitious, so it was a good fit. It had to be. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been sorted into that house.
A few people greeted her, but as she introduced herself, a tall boy with dark hair and a pimpled face, looked at her suspiciously. “Are you pureblood or half-blood? I don’t know a pureblood family named Granger.”
She saw no point in lying. “I’m Muggle-born.”
Some looked confused, some even hostile and Hermione wanted to become invisible. A very familiar feeling she had hoped she had left behind in the Muggle world.
“Why was a mudblood sorted into Slytherin?” She flinched. She hadn’t heard or read about that term before, but it was easy to determine what mudblood meant. Dirty blood.
The tall boy wanted to say something else, but someone stepped to the table and when Hermione looked up, she saw the blond boy she had been standing next to before entering the Great Hall.
“Considering you’ve attended Hogwarts for five years already, it’s fascinating that you still don’t know that our Head of House does not accept bullying within Slytherin. Neither do any former Slytherins who teach their children proper manners. I see your parents are not among them, Flint” he drawled, sounding almost bored, but the look in his eyes was cold.
Hermione expected the tall boy, Flint, to protest or even attack, because he was, if the blond boy was to be believed, in his sixth year now while the other was just another first year, but he leaned back, looking chastened. “I suppose you’re right, Malfoy.”
Malfoy … Who was he that he was apparently influential enough that older students did not dare oppose him? She believed she had read the name somewhere, but didn’t remember the context.
He now sat down, but didn’t acknowledge her further and turned instead to his friends.
No one bothered her anymore, but no one talked to her either. She told herself that this was better than what she had experienced in her Muggle school, but when after Dumbledore’s short, but nonsensical speech the food appeared on the tables, her appetite was gone.
After the feast, the Prefects led them downstairs into the dungeons, where they stopped in front of … well, a wall. The girl Prefect told them that the current password was “Belladonna” and the wall opened, much like the wall that led from the Leaky Cauldron to Diagon Alley.
It could be argued that the common room was a bit gloomy, as the walls were bare stones, except for the Slytherin banners and the portraits; everything else seemed to be in different shades of green with the occasional silver, the large fireplace and lanterns with light green glass provided light. But Hermione instantly loved it, especially since the large windows did not provide any regular view the other windows in the castle would. No, they showed an underwater landscape, obviously Black Lake, with plants and fish and Hermione knew, if she was lucky, she would see merpeople and maybe even the Giant Squid! Right now, it was very dark and she could only see what was right in front of the windows, but maybe during the day it would be possible to see a bit further.
She would have been giddy with excitement, if there had been anyone to share her excitement with. As it was, no one even looked at her.
After a few minutes of waiting in the common room, the wall opened up again and Professor Severus Snape walked in, black robes billowing behind him dramatically, face unreadable.
He stopped in the middle of the common room, and took his time to look at each of the new arrivals. Only Malfoy, Draco as she now knew, looked him into the face confidently.
“Welcome to Slytherin, first-years, and welcome back everyone else.” His voice was smooth and he spoke in a drawl, just loud enough for everyone to hear, but quiet enough to force everyone to pay attention, if they didn’t want to miss something that was said. “As you know, we are not the most popular house, which is part of why I expect you all to stick together. I expect you to do your best and to help each other, if one of you is struggling in with a certain subject. Slytherin has won the House Cup in the past seven years and I want to keep it that way and every single one of you will do their part.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “In that context, it has come to my attention that a Muggle-born was sorted into Slytherin today.” Hermione wanted the ground or the lake to swallow her as everyone looked at her. All she could do was hold her head up high. “However this came to pass, she is a Slytherin now and I would like to remind you that bullying is not acceptable. I can’t force you to be friends, but I better not hear of any animosity either.” He let his gaze rest on Flint for just a moment, as if he knew exactly what had been said on the table earlier during the Sorting Ceremony. The boy immediately looked down to the ground. “The punishment for disobedience in this matter will be severe.” Another pause. “It may have come to your attention that my godson was unsurprisingly also sorted into Slytherin today.” He looked at Draco Malfoy and finally Hermione understood how he had known what their house teacher’s stand on bullying was right after he was sorted. He was Snape’s godson. “There will be no special treatment. Draco, I expect you to call me Sir or Professor in class, like everyone else.”
The boy bowed formally, though Hermione could have sworn she saw a mocking gleam in his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”
One of his friends, a pretty blond witch, giggled, but fell quiet immediately when Snape’s eyes fell on her. “Do you find that funny, Miss Greengrass?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. If there are any issues, please address your Prefects. Unless someone is dying, there is no need to disturb me.” Hermione felt her lip twitch, but she managed to keep herself from smiling. “I will, however, be present in the common room twice a week after dinner. During that time, you can address any matter you feel is relevant. I cannot promise that I will share your assessment, but I will listen. Any questions?”
No one spoke.
“Very good. I will see you for your first potions class.”
Again, robes billowing, he stepped out of the room, leaving the students on their own.
The female Prefect, Valerie Travers, showed them their dormitories. The decoration was much like in the common room, but the four-poster beds looked much more comfortable than Hermione’s bed at home and the curtains provided some privacy.
Hermione held her breath as a merperson swam past the window, looked in, and vanished in the dark water.
“Never seen a merperson before, have you?” Hermione turned around to see a smug-looking black-haired girl.
Before she could say anything, the one with the gold-blond curls who had been called out by Snape for giggling earlier, chimed in. “Don’t act as if you have, Pansy.” She turned to Hermione. “I’m Daphne Greengrass, the prat over here is Pansy Parkinson.” Then she gestured to the other two girls in the room, both brunettes. “And these are Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode.”
Tracey actually waved with a slight smile, Millicent just glowered.
Hermione forced herself to smile. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’m Hermione Granger.”
Millicent Bulstrode just shrugged. “You probably won’t get us any house points, but try not to lose any either.”
~tbc~