Chapter 3
The atmosphere of King’s Cross was almost what it used to be. There was laughter and banter as friends reconnected, the weight of the war lifted off of their young shoulders and only homework and exams ahead to worry them. But there was something distinctly tense in the air. The younger students, especially, looked more nervous than excited. Siblings, usually so ready to finally separate after the summer spent in each other’s hair, stayed close instead. If you really paid attention, you’d see the quick darting of eyes, the small startles at loud noises. Things had changed.
Hermione and Ginny, having said their goodbyes at the Burrow before apparating to the station themselves, saw no reason to linger on the platform. They boarded the train and chose an empty carriage at random.
“Feels different, doesn’t it?” Ginny was staring forlornly out the window at the platform below them.
“Yeah.” Hermione didn’t know what else to say. Small talk had never been a strength of hers.
Thankfully, Ginny didn’t care much for it either, and they sat in silence until a rap was heard at their door. When they saw it was Neville and Luna, they waved them in enthusiastically.
Ginny pulled out a game of exploding snap and they passed the time easily.
***
By the time the train stopped they were all in their school robes. As they stepped onto Hogsmeade platform Hermione heard Hagrid’s familiar voice yelling, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over ‘ere!” and smiled.
Her smile quickly faded, however, when she saw the skeletal creatures pulling the carriages. She stopped in her tracks as she took them in. She had ridden them twice, but this was her first time seeing them. They looked exactly how they felt. Cold, bony and scaly. But she wasn’t prepared for how she felt. They made her think of the life draining out of Fred’s eyes as George screamed over him. She felt cold. And heavy. And sick.
How many other students can see them? she wondered. How many children had seen death just last year? At this very school, most likely. Ginny, pale beside her, grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her toward the carriages.
“Oh, this is your first time seeing them, isn’t it?” Luna had a knack for bringing up subjects that people didn’t want to talk about. “It’s alright. They look scary, but they’re quite friendly really. I like to think that’s how death is.”
Ginny’s jaw clenched, and she looked like she wanted to hit something as she pulled herself into the carriage. Hermione desperately wracked her brain for change of topic.
“So how’s your father’s magazine doing, Luna?”
“Oh, it’s doing very well. Daddy wrote an article about why wrackspurt infections are skyrocketing after the war. You ought to read it, you have a really bad case. Here, I have a copy.” She summoned a magazine from her trunk and handed it to Hermione, who took it with a small, “Thanks,” and no intention of ever opening it.
When they finally arrived at the great hall, Hermione took her place among friends at the Gryffindor table.
Eventually, McGonagall stepped up to the headmaster’s lectern and silence fell swiftly over the room.
“Welcome, students. And to most of you, welcome back. I have several things to say to all of you, and as they are all of great importance, I trust you will listen closely.
“Firstly, as you will all be very aware, Hogwarts was the site of many atrocities last year. Although our staff did all we could to protect our students, we understand that many of you were… were treated very poorly.” She clearly didn’t want to say ‘tortured’ in front of the children. “And we extend our deepest apologies towards each and every student who was affected. Now that the war is over, we can promise with absolute certainty that that will not be happening at this school again.
“Secondly, although this is – first and foremost – a school, and will always remain as such, just a few months ago it was the site of the Battle of Hogwarts. Many brave people sacrificed their lives here, so that we could have the future we now see in front of us. Many of us will have known at least one of them.” Hermione had never seen McGonagall’s eyes so wet. “I would like to honour those people now with a minute of silence.”
McGonagall stepped down from the lectern and clasped her hands in front of her, looking down. The weight of it hit her then. How they were all together in this. How they all, to some extent, shared this grief. It was in this very hall that Harry had killed Voldemort, and it was here that the next generation would overcome the damage that psycho had done.
After the minute had passed, McGonagall once again stepped up to the lectern, surreptitiously wiping her eyes.
“Onto the next matter – as I’m sure you may have guessed, we have some staffing changes. Please welcome Professor Nettle, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.” The stern-looking professor stood up and the students clapped politely.
“Please also welcome Professor Miller, who will be teaching Muggle Studies.” A wizard with a polite, unassuming countenance stood to receive the claps. He was wearing mostly muggle clothes, with an open, black robe over the top of them that could have resembled a university’s academic gown.
“And onto our last matter…” McGonagall hesitated. “Although it may upset some of you, the other staff and I have had several discussions regarding this matter and we believe we have made the right decision.”
There was a confused murmur throughout the hall as she paused.
“Since the founding of this school, students have been separated into four houses. The war made it very apparent that these houses, over time, had become a tool for division. Discussions were had on disbanding the houses-”
At this, a much louder, angrier murmur rang through the hall. McGonagall raised her hand and it stopped almost immediately.
“But we decided that that would be an insult to the founders’ memory. After much consideration, we realised that this problem may be solved if the sorting was done as it was designed by the founders to be done. That is, without taking into account a student’s family background, blood status, or innate prejudices. In our willingness to make haste with the promotion of unity and the dissolution of harmful type-casts, we have decided to re-sort every student at this school.”
McGonagall didn’t even attempt to silence the students’ outrage at this.
“What!?” said Ginny loudly beside her. “What was she saying about family background!?”
“Yeah!” Said Neville. “The hat’s always right. Why’s she going on about ‘innate prejudices’? I tried to get it to put me in Hufflepuff…”
Hermione said nothing. Her stomach was somewhere in her knees. She remembered her sorting like it was yesterday. You’ve got brains… the hat had said. And an insatiable thirst for knowledge. But Hermione had wanted Gryffindor. She’d wanted the house of heroes. She’d learned in primary school that other kids didn’t like you if you were too smart. Gryffindor Gryffindor Gryffindor, she’d said. She hadn’t wanted to be the nerd anymore. She’d been thrust into a new world all by herself. She’d been so brave about it. The house of courage had seemed fitting.
But she’d been courageous. She’d been a hero. And she was tired. She looked at Neville next to her, who had the hat had refused to put anywhere else. She saw how after all of it - all the fighting, all the death - he sat straighter than he ever had. Hermione was just… tired. She knew exactly what was going to happen.
“I won’t go,” said a red-faced Ginny beside her. “I just won’t go if they try to put me somewhere else. Gryffindor’s my home.”
“Neither will I,” asserted Neville. “Surely they can’t move any of us, after all we’ve done.”
Hermione said nothing, and watched the first of the children walk up to the stool and put the hat on his head. Apparently there would be no song tonight.
The student was sorted into Hufflepuff. Almost all the first years were sorted before the hall became quiet enough to hear the names being called from the back of the room where Hermione, Neville and Ginny sat. The hat was being very quick about it this year. Hermione wondered if it was time constraints, or just the hat refusing to let the student influence its decision.
The reactions were varied. There was indifference, relief, shame, and even tears in one girl’s case (it had been Hufflepuff to Slytherin, and her new housemates looked at her with disdain).
After almost two hours, during which not much of the food had been eaten, it was time for the seventh years to line up. Ginny looked queasy as she walked to the centre of the hall. Luna held out a hand and she took it. When “Lovegood, Luna!” was called Luna walked to the stool with her usual air of dreamy calm, placed the hat on her head and to no ones’ surprise was immediately announced as a Ravenclaw.
Hermione couldn’t help but notice that Ginny had gotten progressively whiter and quieter over the course of the feast. Had she also heavily influenced her sorting? It would make sense. She wouldn’t have wanted to be the only non-Gryffindor in the Weasley household. Hermione had always seen Ginny as the textbook Gryffindor – bold and courageous, popular, excelling in sports. But she was also fiercely loyal, and smart, and ambitious. Hermione watched with bated breath as the hat called out, “Weasley, Ginevra!”
It took all of ten seconds, in which Ginny looked like she might pop a vein from concentration. “SLYTHERIN!” There was a collective gasp from the older students. Ginny looked like she was about to cry. As she pulled the hat off of her head she looked over at the Gryffindor table, possibly deciding if she would really ‘just not go’. But it wouldn’t matter where she sat now. As per some sort of enchantment on the sorting hat, her robes were now trimmed with green and silver. She’d been announced and branded a Slytherin in front of the whole school. She was one of them now, and so she walked in the opposite direction towards her new house, her flaming head hanging in shame.
Hermione wasn’t exactly shocked, but she felt a pang in her chest for Ginny. What was she going to say to her family? How was she going to fit in with the likes of witches like Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode?
Hermione didn’t have much time to feel sorry for her friend – it was time for the eighth years. She had been thinking about this all night. Neville would stay in Gryffindor. She wasn’t sure about Dean and Seamus. Parkinson and Bullstrode would stay in Slytherin, surely. As would… Malfoy? She hadn’t given him a second thought before, but seeing him close up she saw those bags under his eyes again, the slouch in his posture. He looked broken.
Maybe, in the way that bravery had exhausted Hermione, ambition had exhausted him.
No. He was tired because he’d lost. Because he’d been wrong. He had to know by now how wrong he’d been. He was a Slytherin to the core, and he would be put where he belonged.
“Abbott, Hannah!” Hufflepuff. She smiled, unsurprised.
“Bones, Susan!” The same.
“Bullstrode, Millicent!” Hufflepuff? She was as white as a ghost as she walked to her new table.
“Davis, Tracy!” Another Slytherin. Was that… disappointment?
“Finnigan, Seamus!” Gryffindor. He was pleased.
And then…
“Granger, Hermione!”
She walked up to the stool on surprisingly steady feet. A large part of her had accepted that she could do nothing to influence this. Ginny clearly hadn’t been able to. She wouldn’t have gone over to Slytherin willingly.
She placed the hat on her head. “Ahh I remember you… I wish you’d listened to me the first time. You did well in Gryffindor, but we both know you belong in-
“RAVENCLAW!”
There was a collective gasp. Had she been the only one expecting this? It made sense, she supposed. She had spent seven years helping Harry fight Voldemort. She was a war hero now. And all the heroes were supposed to be in Gryffindor.
She didn’t have much time to think as she made her way to the Ravenclaw table. She didn’t want to miss anyone else’s sorting. And… if she was honest with herself… there was one in particular she was interested in.
“Greengrass, Daphne!” Switched from Slytherin to Ravenclaw. Her new roommate then, she thought numbly.
“Li, Sue!” Another roommate.
“Longbottom, Neville!” Gryffindor. Neville’s eyes gleamed with pride.
“Macmillan, Ernie!” Slytherin.
“Malfoy, Draco!”
Hermione held her breath. The hat took its time on this one. Almost 5 minutes passed. The silence in the hall was strange after the almost constant, if not always enthusiastic, clapping. Malfoy’s face was blank as the hat deliberated. It reminded her of the photos she’d seen of him at his trial. Almost everyone in this school would have seen those photos. Everyone knew who this was. Everyone would have been keenly aware of the mark on his left arm, hidden beneath his green trimmed robes. Bigot, bully, death eater-
“RAVENCLAW!”
Hermione’s heart jumped slightly in shock. Ravenclaw? Well, he certainly wasn’t a Hufflepuff. He couldn’t be a Gryffindor either. But she had always seen him as a Slytherin. He’d always been so focused on status and appearances. That wasn’t the mark of a Ravenclaw. But was it his ambition that had kept him second only to her in their year? Or had it been raw intelligence? A thirst for knowledge?
It didn’t matter. Malfoy wouldn’t dare bother her this year. She was thinking too much about him. More than he deserved.
But what had he been doing in that shop? Had he been following her? Were the Death Eaters not entirely disbanded? Her head hurt just thinking about it, and she wondered not for the first time if she should have told Harry and Ron about their encounter.
No, she was overreacting. She would have to keep an eye on him though, just in case.
“Nott, Theodore!” switched from Slytherin to Gryffindor.
“Parkinson, Pansy!” made a pale and relieved Slytherin.
“Patil, Padma!” Another roommate.
“Patil, Parvati!” Still in Gryffindor.
“Smith, Zacharias!” From Hufflepuff to Slytherin.
“Thomas, Dean!” Ravenclaw. Hermione nodded slightly to herself.
And finally, “Zabini, Blaise!” Slytherin.
After the clapping stopped, a low murmur spread through the hall. Many relieved students were reuniting with their housemates. Hermione looked down at her blue and bronze tie and felt lost.
“Hey!” Someone tapped her arm and she looked up at a small girl with bright, dark eyes and a straight, black ponytail. “I’m Sue! We’re gonna be roommates. Along with Padma and… Daphne Greengrass right? Welcome to Ravenclaw!” The girl somehow managed to smile through the whole thing.
She then stood up, telling Hermione that she was going to go and find Padma. As she walked up the table she passed Daphne Greengrass, who she seemed to recognise by face, if not by name. She waved enthusiastically and stretched across the table to shake her hand. Daphne looked vaguely intimidated.
Hermione was feeling a bit overwhelmed herself. She had no idea who the Ravenclaw Prefects were. Surely someone would tell her. She didn’t even know where the common room was.
About half the students, clearly tired from the ordeal, got up and filed slowly out of the great hall. Hermione quickly finished her chicken and potatoes before joining the line that some prefects were constructing along the Ravenclaw table. She found herself between a first and a third year, which was a bit embarrassing. Then she spotted Daphne Greengrass near the end of the line, looking pale and lost. Without much thought, she walked over and held out a hand.
“Hello. I’m Hermione Granger.”
“I know,” said the girl. She was quite pretty, with dark hair and blue-green eyes. It was somewhat ruined by the grimace she was wearing.
They stood in silence for a moment before Daphne finally clasped Hermione’s hand. “Daphne Greengrass.”
They both attempted – fairly poorly – to smile at each other, and that was the extent of the conversation.
They were led by the Prefects through the familiar Hogwarts corridors. Hermione thought they were going to the astronomy tower, but a last-minute left turn and several flights of stairs later they were gathered in front of a large wooden door with an eagle shaped bronze knocker on it.
One of the Prefects had to shout to get his message all the way to the back of the much larger than expected crowd. He explained the riddle system, and then swiftly answered one that Hermione didn’t hear. That was going to be such a bother.
Hermione had heard descriptions of the Ravenclaw common room from Harry, but that didn’t quite prepare her for the stark difference to Gryffindor tower.
It was so… open. And airy. The room was about half the size of the great hall, and the domed ceilings were three times the height of those in a regular room. They were painted in midnight blue with stars clearly enchanted to look real. The design was mirrored on the carpet, and made Hermione feel a bit like she was walking through the night sky. There were lounges, armchairs and bookcases arranged in neat sections all throughout the room, and every few meters was a reading alcove lined with books.
The Prefects directed them to the girls’ and boys’ dormitories, and Hermione and Daphne ascended a whole seven flights of stairs – was it designed like this on purpose to keep the bookworms fit? – before coming to the eighth year girls’ dormitory. The door was already open.
Hermione glanced in to see Sue and Padma sitting cross-legged on one of the beds. As soon as she noticed the newcomers, Sue leapt up and almost ran over.
“Come in come in! Welcome to our humble abode!” she said, enthusiastically waving them into the room.
It was similar in shape to her old dorm, with five beds arranged in a circle. However, like the common room, it was larger and airier. The blue-draped windows seemed to take up as much of the walls as physically possible and Hermione was momentarily stunned by the view of the mountains jutting darkly into the starry sky.
“The sun comes through that way in the morning,” Sue said, gesturing. “That one’s my bed and that one’s Pads’. Oh! Have you met Padma?”
The dark-skinned girl who looked exactly like Parvati smiled quietly at Hermione before getting up and holding out her hand.
“Pleased to meet you. I promise I’m not as messy as my sister.”
Hermione smiled and shook her hand. Daphne did the same.
“Anyway!” said Sue, “Which beds do you guys want? First in best dressed.”
Hermione picked a bed at random – the one next to Padma’s – and Daphne walked to the other side of the room to sit on the one furthest from the rest. Sue did not seem perturbed.
“Awesome! Should we have like a… getting-to-know-you game or something?”
“Sue…” Padma said gently.
“What?”
“I think everyone’s a bit tired after tonight.”
“Oh… right. Fair enough. We’ll do all that stuff tomorrow then.”
Hermione, envying Sue her energy, moved sluggishly through her night-time routine and then lay down in her new bed.
As she heard Daphne drawing the hangings around her on the other side of the room her mind wandered unbidden to Malfoy. A Ravenclaw? Really? The hat had taken a while to decide. Longer than it had for anyone else. Had Malfoy been trying to influence the decision? Had he leapt at the opportunity to distance himself from his past? No… If Ginny hadn’t had the grit to change the hat’s decision, then Malfoy certainly wouldn’t have.
The hat must have simply not known what to do with him. Maybe there wasn’t much left of Malfoy when his ‘innate prejudices’ were stripped away.
Her fatigue pulled her into a deep sleep before she could think about it any further.