Miracle in a Bottle

The crowd makes it a bit difficult to get out of the train without loosing either Justin or Nick, but Annie manages to stay with them without walking on their heels as they step out on the station. They follow the crowd, for the most part avoiding elbows and accidental collisions, until they hear a loud accented voice thunder :

“Firs' Years! Firs' Years, this way!”

They then turn around and head toward the man shouting. The crowd eventually thins enough that Annie can catch sight of a waving giant, who has a head full of dark curly hair and a large blue-fired lantern in his non-waving hand.

“Aight,” the man says when it’s only them left at the station. “The name’s Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I’ll be taking you to the boats, which will take you to Hogwarts. If you’ll come with me…”

Then, without any other word, the giant turns around, lantern whiping over their heads, and walks away into the darkness.

Quietly, almost ceremonially, they follow.

Annie thinks they walk for about two minutes before they reach the docks, where a long line of boats are waiting for them. Which Annie can see, because each boat has its own blue-fired lantern, keeping the docks illuminated enough that she won’t accidentally step into the void and take a dive for the water.

“No more than four a boat!” the giant warns them as he steps into a boat of his own. It immediately sinks halfway into the water, but doesn’t goes under, like Annie half-expects it to.

“Come on,” Justin whispers. “Let’s go togheter before there are no more boats!”

He’s not the only one to say that, Annie hears, so she hurries after him, nearly slipping on the wet dock. They manage to find a boat of their own and are quickly joined by a girl with a blond braid, who introduces herself, with a thick Irish accent, as Aideen Pye.

The boat ride is spent in hushed contemplation, which turns to awe as they glide under an underpass and get their first look of Hogwarts.

The castle is a magestic mess of walls and towers, looming over the land like a dragon over its hoard. It sits atop a rocky hill, windows illuminated by warm orange lights, and the imposing structure only serves to make Annie feel incredibly small.

Small and amazed. This castle was going to be her home for the next months. She was going to live here, eat here, and study magic.

Looking at the castle as she does now, she can’t imagine any other place more magical.

The dock they arrive at are just as wet and slippery as the previous one. Justin, because he’s Justin, gets off first and helps them all out one by one, offering them his hand as they get out with wobbly knees.

A few boats away, a girl yelps and goes splashing into the water. Laughter erupts around her, but is cut short when the giant man hurries over and fishes her out of the water with one hand.

“Careful now,” he says as she coughs. “Gonna ask McGonagall to dry you up once we get to the doors, aight? Try not to slip in the stairs.”

With those words, he looks around, notices that everyone has gotten out of the boats, and lifts his lantern again.

“This way!” he calls, before heading toward stairs carved out of the rocky slope.

By the time they’ve reached the top, Nick has slowed down considerably and is breathing harshly, though not as badly as some others. Annie herself is feeling a bit tired, but has spent years of running away from Dudley and his gang of creeps, so she wasn’t about to be deafeted by a bunch of stairs.

Ahead of them, Professor McGonagall is standing in front of impressive iron-wrought gates, the girl who’d fallen into the water already dry by her side.

“They’re all yours, Professor,” Mr Hagrid says.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” the professor tells him, before looking at them. “Students, follow me.”

The doors open as McGonagall takes one step toward them, Annie and the others following as they were told. They’re led through a courtyard, up a stone path and toward an imposing wooden door that is probably as tall as three Mr Hagrids. It opens without any prompting, revealing a large corridor and an even larger stone staircase, but Professor McGonagall completely ignores the stairs, rather taking a turn and taking a few more steps before swiftly turning her back to the new doors, stopping them all with a single look.

“You are about to enter the Great Hall, where we will begin the Sorting Ceremony,” Professor McGonagall states, eyes heavy as she impresses the gravity of the situation with her expression alone. “You will spend the next seven years in the House you are Sorted in, living, working, learning with your housemates. In a way, they will be your second family. For every success of yours, you will be given points, but, for every rule broken or misbehaviour, you will loose those points. At the end of the year, the House that has accumulated the most points will then win the House Cup. It is your responsibility as students to apply yourselves to your studies and perform to the best of your abilities, so that you can make the best out of every year you spend here and graduate from Hogwarts as the best versions of yourselves.”

McGonagall’s eyes sweep the crowd once more, and Annie finds herself straightening up, smoothing her clothes and wondering if her hair had managed to escape the tight braid she had woven it into.

“I will go inform the others that you have arrived,” McGonagall concludes. “You may wish to use the next few minutes to clean yourselves up.”

With a pointed look to a tall redhead boy near the front, McGonagall slips behind the doors, leaving them alone.

That is, for a brief moment. Then voices echo from behind them, and Annie turns just in time to avoid a see-through grey monk from walking into her.

Or, rather, floating through her. Justin doesn’t make a sound when she stumbles into him, gaping at the ghosts that had finally noticed them.

“Oh, are you the First Years?” the monk who nearly floated through Annie says in delight. “I’ll await you in Hufflepuff! It was my House back in the day, you know!”

“As I say, better be Gryffindor!” a knight declares, pulling out his sword and pointing it at the wall. “For the brave and right—” he floats through the wall, muffling the rest of words.

“Do not worry about your Sorting,” a lady dressed like a princess tells them gently. “The Hat knows what it is doing. Everyone will go exactly where they belong, even if you do not realise it just yet!”

With those words, the princess follows the knight into the wall, the rest of the ghostly parade behind her. A moment of silence later, the doors open again, letting out an expectant McGonagall.

“Follow me,” she instructs.

The Great Hall is quiet, every eyes on them, and yet Annie barely notices them, her own eyes jumping from the gold decorations all over the hall to the night-sky ceiling to the floating candles and yawning gargoyles and—

“The ceiling’s bewitched to look like the outside sky,” a girl says behind Annie. She thinks it’s the girl from the train, but she doesn’t turn around to make sure. “I read it in Hogwarts : A History.”

“The ceiling is enchanted, not bewitched,” another girl corrects, sounding very condescending about it, only to be hushed by at least two other people.

They come to a stop in front of the stage. McGonagal, though, continues, climbing up the four stairs and only stopping once she is next to a hat sitting on a stool.

A hat that moves and then proceeds to sing.

Sing. About the values of the four Houses. And Annie doesn’t think she’s particularly smart, or brave, or cunning, or loyal. She works hard, sure, but only because she couldn’t deal with being alone and forgotten anymore.

Working hard sounds fine. Annie’s ready to work hard, to do whatever it takes, in order to become a real witch and heal her father. She’ll work as hard as she has to. Her father loved her, McGonagal said. And once Annie heals him, maybe he’ll want to be a family with her again.

So Annie will work hard. She’ll work hard and be a good witch so please, please don’t send her back. Even if she doesn’t fit any of the Houses, she’ll change, she’ll be what they want, but please—

“When I call your name, you will sit on this stool and I will put the Sorting Hat on your head,” McGonagal declares. “It will then Sort you to your rightful House, either Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor.”

As she says the names of the Houses, the banners on the wall behind the Staff Table move pointedly. The green snake slithers into an 8 and then back into its original S, the eagle flaps its wings, the badger waves and the lion roars silently. Annie’s eyes flicker to the banners above the tables, clearly indicating which table is which.

“Abbott, Hannah!”

A blond girl in pigtails walks out of the crowd and up to the stool. McGonagall lowers the hat on her head and, after a few seconds, the rip gaps and he shouts, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The girl has a smile on her face as she hurries to the yellow table, which is loudly clapping for her. McGonagal then lifts her scroll again and everyone quiets down.

“Beery, Alan!”

The scene repeats itself, again and again. Nick ends up getting Sorted in Ravenclaw, and she and Justin clap for him, as though this is a musical competition and clapping is just the polite thing to do. She does it again when Justin is Sorted to Hufflepuff, and then waits.

She learns that the girl from the train is named Hermione Granger, and she takes a whole minute on the stool before getting Sorted into Gryffindor. Then, more than twenty names later, it's finally approaching her turn.

Patil, Padma! Patil, Parvati! Perks, Sally-Ann! Platt, Wilfred!

“Potter, Anemone!”

She makes her way to the front, her guts squirming uncomfortably as she sits on the stool. She doesn’t know much magic yet, could only lit the tip of her wand to read her textbooks after dark, but she’ll get better, if she’s given the chance.

So the Hat can’t turn her away. She needs to study at Hogwarts, even if she doesn’t fit, needs to heal her father—

“There will be no turning you away, don’t you worry,” a voice tells her in her head. “Even if it isn’t a perfect fit, every student will find their places in one of Hogwarts’ House. Now, let’s see what we have here…”

She shifts, some of her tension leaving her at the words. She wasn’t going to be sent back home. She was going to learn magic.

“That you will,” the Hat assures her. “Mmm… you are hardworking, certainly… a good head on your shoulders and a notable thirst for knowledge…and plenty of courage… difficult, very difficult… Ah, but your ambition to accomplish the impossible, no matter what others say, speaks for itself. Yes, you truly belong in SLYTHERIN!”

Annie’s limbs get loose with relief as she stands up. She takes the Hat off her head, offering it back to a troubled-looking McGonagall, who quickly recovers from whatever shock she had and nods at her, returning her attention to her scroll.

But she’s not the only one who is shocked. Even as Justin claps eagerly from the Hufflepuff table, startling the Slytherins into following along – if only for a few seconds – Annie notices a few people at the staff table who give her odd looks. Most vividly is a pale man with limp oily hair, glaring at her through the black curtain, his mouth curled in a sneer.

It takes Annie a few seconds to reach her table, and Parkinson, the last Slytherin to have been Sorted before Annie, gives her a look of such disdain that she chooses to sit next to Nott instead, who gives her a brief narrow-eyed look but at least doesn’t act like she’s a leper.

The blond boy on Nott’s other side, Malfoy, doesn’t seem to be as indifferent, sneering at her until McGonagall speaks again, calling his attention back to her.

“Prewett, Clemens!”

But, at least, Annie isn’t the only one Parkinson seems to hate on sight. Right after Jasper Sallow comes to sit next to Parkinson, a girl named Moira Selwyn approaches the table, meets Parkinson’s glare with one of her own, and then pointedly sits next to Annie, giving her a polite smile that, at least, gives her hope for at least one friend in her House.

Or, at least, someone who wouldn’t mind doing team assignments with her.

Four more students join the Slytherin table, Lennox Steward and Bran Wright who sit on Annie’s side of the table, while Cyan Tripe drops on the opposite one, joined by Blaise Zabini as the Sorting comes to a close.

McGonagall rolls back her scroll and takes both Hat and stool away. Right as she leaves, the Headmaster stands up from his chair and smiles down at them.

“To our new students, I say, welcome to Hogwarts, for seven years of magic and learning!” he declares, spreading his arms. “To those who have returned to us for this new year, I wish a warm welcome back! And, to you all, I say, tuck in!”

At his words, the table is suddenly covered in steaming food, the smells hitting Annie and making even her candy-filled stomach hunger.

She does, in fact, tuck in.