The Brave and the Bold
Reese's mind grappled with the sight before her, struggling to reconcile the surreal scene with the realm of possibility. It felt as if her eyes were playing tricks on her, teasing her senses with an illusion that seemed both mesmerizing and unfathomable. Her fingers nervously entwined, their restless dance betraying the nervous turmoil swirling within her.
In the vast expanse of the stone hall, Reese found herself engulfed in a sea of students, their figures draped in the solemn attire of black robes. The air buzzed with an electric current of anticipation, carrying with it a symphony of hushed whispers and gentle murmurs that danced upon the airwaves. The rhythmic shuffle of countless feet echoed through the grand chamber, harmonizing with the collective heartbeat of nervous excitement. The atmosphere itself seemed to hold its breath, permeated by a tangible tension that hung in the air like a weighty fog. Amidst this tapestry of sights and sounds, Reese stood, a solitary figure in the midst of a bustling crowd, her senses alive and attuned to the vibrant energy that thrummed through the hall.
Hermione's boundless excitement radiated from every pore, her buoyant energy propelling her to bounce on her toes with impatient anticipation. The air crackled with an electric buzz, as if the collective heartbeat of the students synchronized with the rhythm of the universe. All around, heads turned in gradual twirls, their gazes drawn upward to the expanse of the celestial canopy adorned with a myriad of twinkling stars. Each celestial body seemed to weave a tale of cosmic wonder, captivating the onlookers in a mesmerizing dance of light and mystery.
Among the sea of faces, a sense of serene awe pervaded the atmosphere. It was as if time had momentarily stood still, allowing the students to bask in the ethereal beauty of the star-studded sky. There was a profound appreciation etched on their features, a recognition that this was a moment of grandeur that transcended ordinary experiences. No one could escape the enchantment that hung in the air, for even the most stoic of them were moved by the celestial spectacle before them that painted the ceiling.
Silence enveloped the Great Hall as the distinguished figures of the Hogwarts professors took their positions on the elevated platform. Among them stood Professor McGonagall, an embodiment of sternness and authority, her sharp features etched with determination. Her gaze, as piercing as her intellect, swept across the expectant crowd before she strode purposefully towards the solitary wooden stool placed in the center.
As if commanded by an unseen force, all eyes in the hall converged on the unassuming piece of furniture, their curiosity piqued by its presence. The stool stood as a silent enigma, poised to play a pivotal role in the unfolding spectacle that awaited.
Amidst the hushed whispers and murmurs that filled the air, a timid voice quivered with uncertainty, its owner grappling with the weight of the moment. "Fred said it's a test, and it's supposed to hurt. We have to do this in front of everyone?" The anxiety in her words echoed the concerns bubbling within Reese's own mind, as the collective unease of the first-year students wafted through the hall, blending into a symphony of apprehension and anticipation.
The cadence of their voices, a mosaic of worry and excitement, melded together in a chorus of emotions, creating a backdrop of nervous energy that enveloped the room.
"I better not get into Slytherin..."
"Ravenclaw is the place for smart people, so I'm sure I'll be there."
"Slytherin is the smartest!"
"There's never been an evil witch or wizard who wasn't in Slytherin!"
"Have you seen my toad anywhere?"
"No, sod off, Neville!"
Reese's gaze meandered across the grandeur of the Great Hall, where banners of vibrant colors and intricate designs adorned the towering walls, symbolizing the prestigious Hogwarts houses. Each banner hung with stately poise, a proud testament to the noble lineage and distinguished traditions of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Their rich hues and intricate emblems seemed to come bewitchingly alive.
Reese didn’t know of many Hufflepuffs, but as long as her father was fond of them, so was she. Though she doubted she possessed the acumen required to sit among the blue and silver of Ravenclaw, her father had always praised her intellect, and the thought of making him proud stirred a deep yearning within her. The fiery red and gold of Gryffindor stood out boldly, reflecting the bold and outspoken nature of its lion-hearted students. As for the serpentine green of Slytherin, Reese admired the hue but harbored no connection to its supposedly evil reputation.
Reese's eyes darted between the nervous faces of her fellow first-years as they were called to approach the daunting wooden stool. Hannah Abbott, with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, stepped forward, her expression mirroring the weight of the moment. She was followed by Susan Bones, Terry Boot, and Mandy Brocklehurst, who appeared to be dreading this far more than Reese had.
She craned her neck to find Hermione standing beside her, just as obnoxious hoots and hollers sounded from the older students when Lavender Brown was sorted. ("Another win for Gryffindor, gentlemen!")
"This is so exciting!" Hermione gushed, raising her pointy chin to peek over the dozens of other first-year heads.
Dean stepped up beside Reese, nodding along, "Definitely Ravenclaw, if it comes to picking out a tie."
"I'm not quite sure that's how it works." Reese eyed him. He merely shrugged at her inquiry.
"What's the difference?—"
"Each House has qualities." Hermione cut Dean off just as quickly as the words tumbled from his mouth.
"I like blue," Dean mused, his expression still slightly perplexed.
Reese smirked, "Your main concern is our wardrobe pallet, then, is it?"
"'Course not," he gave a lopsided grin just as Hermione's name was called. Reese watched as Hermione rushed up to the stool, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She practically sprinted up the steps, her hair being the only thing keeping the Sorting Hat from falling in front of her widened eyes.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
Dean's eyebrows shot up. "I was sure she'd be in the smart House."
"Ravenclaw? Yeah, me too."
"Are you nervous?" Reese jumped when a redheaded boy appeared at her side. He was tall and lanky, and his freckles scattered generously across his flushed cheeks. "I sure am."
Reese nodded, offering a smile. "Right, yeah, me too."
"Blimey, if I don't get into Gryffindor..." he trailed off nervously, wringing his hands. "My parents and my five older siblings were in Gryffindor, as well. Who knows what it'd be like if I were the only one not in there…”
She hadn't even really thought about that until now. What would her father think if she wasn't sorted into the right house? What was the right house?
“I’m sure everything'll be fine—“
Dean nudged her shoulder, laughing and out of breath. "You missed it! Neville Longbottom ran off with the mangy old hat and had to go give it back!"
"Lupin, Reese!"
Reese's head snapped up and she felt her heart sink in an instant, watching the cluster slowly split in half as she passed through. Pushing through the crowd, she hushed hasty apologies to those she jostled along the way, ever conscious of first impressions.
The air crackled with nervous energy, mingling with the murmurs and whispers that echoed throughout the Great Hall. Reese's gaze darted from face to face, taking in the curious stares and expectant expressions of her peers. Atop the regal wooden stool, the Sorting Hat perched, its ancient brim casting a shadow that seemed to hold the secrets of countless generations.
Professor McGonagall gave a studied, peculiar look, before placing the hat atop her head. Reese expected it to reek of sweat and anxiety. Magic, she supposed.
Her gaze swept across the sea of expectant faces, apprehension etching delicate lines on her features. The weight of countless eyes bore down on her, their collective gaze an unyielding force. Reese could feel the intensity of their attention, as if invisible threads tethered her to the stool, holding her in a vulnerable embrace. Her hands clenched with a mixture of nervousness and determination, an instinctive response to ward off any signs of trembling.
Yes, above all else, she knew her father would be pleased to find her in Gryffindor, but other than the pressing desire to live up to his expectations, was her House truly that significant when it came to her future? A hint of cynicism colored her thoughts, for she was not naive to the reality that awaited her beyond the hallowed walls of Hogwarts. In a world tainted by prejudice and bias, she grappled with the sobering realization that her accomplishments might be overshadowed by the unfair judgments she would undoubtedly encounter regarding her lycanthropy. The daunting prospect of forging her own path loomed large, casting a shadow over the ephemeral notions of House allegiance. She wasn't clueless—she knew no one would want to hire somebody like her upon reaching the point in her life when she'd need to get serious about what lay ahead. Her success wouldn't matter in the face of the prejudice she would inevitably face.
The narrow confines of her future seemed predetermined, leaving little room for the pursuit of a promising career. The weight of her heritage, the undeniable fact of being a half-monster, hung heavily upon her, casting a perpetual shadow over any aspirations she dared to entertain. No matter the accolades she might accumulate, the whispers of prejudice would persist, defining her through the lens of her lineage. But until then, she could try, couldn't she?
"Another Lupin, eh? Your father had those, ah, special qualities, yes. Another one of them, aren't you...” The Sorting Hat's voice reverberated in Reese's ears, its words tinged with a knowing tone. Of course she was just another one. Another lycanthrope, another half-beast. She knew this, of course, and lived with it just fine, she just didn’t like the idea of being another anything. She’d always yearned to do what’d never been done, she just didn’t know what that was or how she’d get there yet.
The mention of her father, the revered bearer of "special qualities," sent a surge of emotions coursing through her veins. Her heart raced, and she clasped her trembling fingers tightly, a silent plea resonating within her, “You too, I see.” the Hat continued, its timbre laden with a weighty decision.
She had sat there for so long she wondered if she were a hat-stall.
Another moment of suspended anticipation hung in the air, as Reese held her breath, her hopes clinging desperately to the outcome. "Better be..." The Hat's voice trailed off, drawing out the tension, before delivering the verdict with resounding clarity, "...Gryffindor!"
Once Professor McGonagall had removed the hat from her head, Reese descended the steps in a flurry of motion, propelled by a surge of exhilaration that coursed through her veins. The thunderous applause and jubilant cheers of her fellow students washed over her, blending into a cacophony of sound. But amidst the tumultuous celebration, her focus remained fixed on the pounding of her own heart, its rhythm reverberating in her ears like a steady drumbeat.
"How exhilarating!" Hermione beamed when Reese took her seat just opposite her, under the red and gold banners. Hermione's exclamation of excitement fell on deaf ears, and Reese barely managed a half-hearted nod in response just as 'Malfoy, Draco' and two Macmillan siblings were sorted, each to a different house.
As the sorting continued, Reese's gaze caught sight of the boy Hermione had fervently spoken about on the train. Harry Potter, the name whispered in hushed reverence across the wizarding world. The anticipation in the Great Hall grew palpable, as if the very air crackled with electricity. But as the Sorting Hat placed Harry into Gryffindor, the reaction from their fellow students was far from the triumphant cheers that Reese had expected.
Instead, a hushed silence settled over the hall, broken only by the susurration of shared whispers and curious gazes that bore into Harry's figure. It was as if he had become an enigma, a mythical creature unveiled before a captivated audience. Reese couldn't help but feel a twinge of indignation at the way he was scrutinized, as if he were a specimen on display, subject to the scrutiny and judgment of his peers.
Dean's stride quickened as he approached their table, a wide grin spreading across his face. Without missing a beat, he extended his hand, palm open and ready for a high-five
"Not separated just yet!" he grinned after squeezing between Reese and one of the older prefects who had earlier introduced himself as Percy Weasley.
The roster of names stretched almost infinitely, each announcement accompanied by hushed anticipation and restless movements. Reese's gaze darted from face to face, sensing the collective unease that hung in the air. And then, in the midst of the anxious anticipation, she caught sight of the redheaded boy she had encountered earlier. His freckled complexion now flushed with a mix of excitement and nervousness, he stumbled over fellow students, his journey to the sorting stool a stumbling dance of anticipation.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
At last, the sorting concluded, with the Slytherin table erupting in cheers for a newly-allocated member, 'Zabini, Blaise', and just as the whispers of anticipation began to subside, a veritable banquet materialized before them. Every dish imaginable was presented: succulent roasted chicken, buttery potatoes glazed with gold, fluffy mashed potatoes, juicy pork chops, steaks so mammoth they could scarcely be contained on their plates, and the most scrumptious chocolate-coated mints.
Such were the bounty and revelry that awaited the students of Hogwarts, and Reese found herself swept up in the moment of it all. The clinking of goblets, the laughter of students, and the animated chatter formed a symphony of delight. But her immersion in the festivities was abruptly interrupted when Percy, the diligent Gryffindor prefect, approached her with an urgent summons to Professor McGonagall's office. Reese followed Percy through the bustling crowd, leaving behind Hermione's flurry of questions and parting words of caution to avoid expulsion before they even set foot in their dormitories.
Reese knew exactly what she needed to see her for.
The door swung open before she even raised her fist.
"Reese, please, do come in." The resolute click of the door reverberated through the room as Reese obediently stepped into the sanctuary of Professor McGonagall's office. The space, though modest in size, exuded an air of intellectual prowess and profound history. Books lined every inch of available shelf space, their aged spines bearing the weight of countless tales and knowledge untold.
Professor McGonagall, her stern countenance softened ever so slightly, beckoned Reese toward a chair that seemed to dwarf the room with its grandeur. The polished mahogany creaked gently under Reese's weight as she settled into its embrace. The professor took her place behind the imposing desk, its polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the flickering candles that adorned the room.
She paused, opting for a cautious approach. “How are you settling in so far, Miss Lupin? I hope you find that you can fit in here.”
The question hung in the air, veiled with unspoken layers of complexity. Reese's eyes darted nervously around the professor's office, skirting over the bookshelves and the meticulously arranged trinkets. She struggled to meet Professor McGonagall's unwavering gaze, her discomfort palpable. “Right, I’m fine, thanks.”
A pregnant silence hung in the air as Professor McGonagall, her expression inscrutable, removed her glasses with a weary sigh, and Reese wondered if she had disappointed her, falling short of the professor's expectations already.
Folding her hands on the desk before her, Professor McGonagall exhaled, her voice laced with a blend of concern and understanding. "Miss Lupin, I must admit that your arrival here has raised certain... questions and considerations among the faculty. Your unique lineage, coupled with the challenges it may present, is a matter we take seriously.
"I see no need to get around it. You understand well enough what it's like when the time comes with your condition, and know what to do. You know the risks, you are aware of how it works, and you know how to handle it. Still, we must see to it that we have a set and safe routine that will protect you, the school, and your privacy."
The school? How dangerous did she think Reese would become?
"There will be a designated space for you in the Hospital Wing after every full moon, should you ever need it. Madam Pomfrey will provide everything to help you, and don't ever be afraid to come to me or Headmaster Dumbledore if you have any questions or concerns."
Reese shifted in discomfort. "Is that all?"
McGonagall paused to smile. "You do remind me of your father. He was an exemplary student."
Once the professor had dismissed her, Reese embarked on a tumultuous journey through the labyrinthine corridors of Hogwarts. Like a wanderer in an enchanted maze, she found herself disoriented and lost, meandering through the hallowed halls with an air of befuddlement. Fortunately for her, but not much for him, Neville Longbottom was stuck outside the common room as well.
"I missed when Percy gave us the password," he frowned, looking at his feet.
"Caput Draconis," the painting swung open at Reese’s words and Neville beamed.
"Wow! What does that mean?"
"Dragon's head, I think."
Reese stood at the threshold of the Gryffindor common room, a silent witness to the scene unfolding before her. The crackling fire in the grand stone fireplace cast a mesmerizing display of golden hues, its flickering dance enchanting her senses. The room beckoned her forward with its warm embrace, the plush sofas and armchairs forming a cozy circle, inviting her to sink into their comforting depths.
It was a sight that surpassed even the vivid descriptions her father had shared, an immersive experience that ignited her imagination. The walls adorned with tapestries in bold scarlet and shimmering gold seemed to pulse with vibrant energy, whispering tales of bravery and camaraderie. As she stepped into the heart of the room, Hermione and Dean appeared equally captivated, as they twirled slowly, their movements synchronized with the ethereal rhythm of the flickering flames.
"Bloody hell!"
"This truly is magnificent."
Dean gestured towards a spiraling staircase that ascended to an upper level of the common room. "You guys are up there, I reckon."
Eager to settle into their new abode, Hermione took the lead, her steps purposeful and resolute. Reese followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet of the common room. As they ascended the spiraling staircase, Reese's gaze wandered, taking in the intricate details of the following hallway, the arched windows that offered glimpses of the starry night sky, and the majestic portraits that adorned the walls, their subjects frozen in timeless splendor.
At the top of the staircase, they reached a hallway adorned with tall, imposing doors, each one leading to the separate dormitories of the first-year students. Hermione's hand reached out and grasped the handle of the nearest door, her eyes filled with anticipation. With a gentle push, the door swung open, revealing a cozy and inviting space beyond.
"Sorry, ladies," the blonde girl frowned as they entered. "I've already called this one." She was sitting on one of the large, four-poster beds that had thick velvet curtains on all four sides, golden designs threaded into each one. The room was nearly completely decorated already, the area revealed its secrets gradually—a small nook tucked away beneath a dormer window, a collection of well-loved books on a nearby shelf, and a corkboard adorned with snapshots and mementos from past adventures.
Reese’s trunk was already sitting on one of the other three beds.
Hermione had almost finished unpacking by the time Reese looked up again, then she was wandering around the room. Reese wasn't sure what exactly remained to explore.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger." Her hand was stuck out again, and the blonde shook it, vaguely entertained.
"What an interesting name you have! I'm Lavender Brown." Lavender said cheerily, and Reese couldn't help but think that her name suited her well, with a sweetness and delicacy that carried an air of fragility.
Hermione withdrew her hand with a faint nod and surveyed the dormitory, taking note of the other occupants. "And, er, who might that be?"
As if drawn by an invisible force, their collective attention shifted towards the fourth occupant of the dormitory. A raven-haired girl lay sprawled face-down across her bed. Her belongings were haphazardly arranged across the floor—her trunk unceremoniously discarded on the carpet, a tangle of clothes scattered around it. Hermione, ever the picture of organization, almost stumbled over the untidy heap as she made her way across the room.
"That's Lacey." Lavender offered by way of introduction, "Don't worry about her; she's throwing a wobbly because first-years aren't allowed to try out for the Quidditch team."
Lacey's response was a melodramatic sigh, her voice still muffled by the maroon pillows that shielded her face from view. "What else could I do if I can't even play ?" she groaned, the frustration evident in her tone.
"It's rather ambitious to expect to join the Quidditch team on the very first day.” Hermione, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a touch of pragmatism as Reese began unpacking her own books onto mahogany shelves.
"Instead of Quidditch, I'm supposed to, what, learn ? No, thank you!" she declared, sitting up and raising her fist as if she were presenting a monumental declaration. Reese pressed a hand to her headache. "My brother agrees with me!"
"I thought you said your brother wasn't sorted into Gryffindor—" Lavender inquired before Lacey gasped and pressed a finger to her lips warningly. Reese grinned in vague amusement as Lavender widened her eyes and Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Don't remind me," she sulked back into her mattress glumly.
Reese had ascended onto her bed and pulled the drapes closed, shrouding herself in the stillness of the obscurity as the murmurs faded into slumberous tranquility.