Can Things Change

“The Sorting Hat” Lily read

Sirius yelled, “Bets on houses!”

“I think Aurora will be a Slytherin,” Remus said, and Lily nodded in agreement.

Sirius looked for a moment as if he was going to argue, but smiled softly at Aurora and also nodded. “She would do really well in Slytherin.”

“Draco is a Slytherin as well,” Andromeda said. 

“Neville is a Gryffindor,” Alice stated, making the boy beam at his mother.

“He seems more Hufflepuff to me,” Marlene argued, Frank agreeing with Marlene.

“He has many traits of a Hufflepuff, but did you hear how he moved Aurora behind him just for a couple of boys looking at her scar,” Alice argued. Then she turned to Frank, “You wait and see, he’ll be a Gryffindor.”

“Well Hermione is definitely a Ravenclaw,” Peter added.

“And Amice,” Amos asked, watching everyone go back and forth with amusement.

“Hufflepuff,” The Marauders and Frank said at the same time.

“What about us?” Ginny asked, pointing to herself and Luna. “We get sorted in the next book. Also don’t forget Ron.”

“I want to say that you and Ron will be Gryffindor’s like everyone in your family, but that doesn’t mean anything, just look at me,” Sirius said. “But I honestly think you two will be Gryffindor’s.”

“Seer’s always go to Ravenclaw,” Flitwick said, looking at Luna. “They simply know things others do not, and seek to learn more.”

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Aurora’s first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

“Any yet, Miss Potter,” McGonagall said, lips thin, trying to prevent a smile, “I have a feeling that you cross me rather often.”

Aurora looked down, embarrassed, before announcing, “They help,” while pointing to Ron, Hermione and Neville.

“You are going to cause me more headaches than your father aren’t you?”

“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.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Aurora 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.

“The wait is the worst part,” Sirius muttered, everyone nodded with him, agreeing.

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.

“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. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. 

“Did you hear that Ro,” Draco started laughing, “rule breaking will lose you house points.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Aurora replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder and sticking her nose up. “I would never break any rules.”

Fred scoffed loudly, “No you would rather shatter them to smithereens so that it seems like the rule was pointless to begin with, and then get rewarded for it.” He added that last part softly so that only she could hear.

“I’m thinking I would rather have her lose points for pranks than whatever she got up to at school,” James muttered to Sirius and Lily.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Sirius agreed.

At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

“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. Aurora nervously tried to flatten her hair, and helped Neville fix his cloak, smoothing out any wrinkles that she saw, trying to calm her nerves.

“Mothering him already,” Marlene laughed, “you are so much like your mother.”

“The hair is never going to lay flat either,” James added.

“I know, even with my metamorph abilities unlocked and when I started changing, I can’t cover the scar, or change the way my hair lays.”

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”

She left the chamber. Aurora swallowed.

“How exactly do they sort us into houses?” she asked Ron, and Amice.

“Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Aurora’s heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But she didn’t know any magic yet —what on earth would she have to do? She hadn’t expected something like this the moment they arrived. She looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she’d learned and wondering which one she’d need. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a Ravenclaw,” Peter said.

Aurora tried hard not to listen to her. She’d never been more nervous, never, not even when she’d had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that she’d somehow turned her teacher’s wig blue. She kept her eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead her to her doom.

Ron took the pillow that Hermione had used earlier, and started swatting Aurora with it, “Stop being so pessimistic.” 

Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air — 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 —”

“Ah their yearly greeting to the firsties,” Frank exclaimed. “It’s always the same thing, they scare the first years, subtly warn them about Peeves, and then act surprised that there are people there, before welcoming them to the school.” Everyone who had been a student of Hogwarts laughed at the accurate description of what was about to happen.

“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.

“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.”

“He really is the most pleasant fellow,” Amos said.

“He’s okay,” Ron admitted, before adding, “He’s not really helpful to anyone outside of Hufflepuff, whereas if you need it Sir Nicholas, the Baron, and Helena help everyone who asks.”

“Osgar can be very house insular,” Amice agreed. “Aurora used to try to talk to him while she was with Cedric, and he just ignored her and spoke only to Cedric.”

“At first we thought it was because I’m female and the time period he came from,” Aurora continued, but then we saw it happen with others. “And despite his appearance, Cuthberht, is one of the nicest ghosts there is.” 

“You know all their names!” James, Sirius and Alice exclaimed.

“All you have to do is ask,” Luna explained. “Helena is a little shy about telling you, but if you really seem interested she will.”

Everyone looked astonished, as if it had never occurred to them to ask the ghosts their names.

“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.

“Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.”

Feeling oddly as though her legs had turned to lead, Aurora 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.

Aurora 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. 

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. 

“It does seem rather intimidating when you put it that way,” Hermione said.

Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Aurora 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.”

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn’t simply open on to the heavens.

“That sounds lovely,” Pandora and Columba both said.

“It really is,” Fred agreed. “Ray found a book that had a similar enchantment that she’s trying to do in our bedroom  at Gri…”

“At home,” Aurora said, slapping her hand over Fred’s mouth.

“You are living together?” Sirius asked, seriously, a frown on his face.

“Yea,” Aurora replied, looking at her godfather confused, while removing her hand.

“And you’re not married,” James continued the line of questioning, with a glare at Fred.

“We’ve talked about it,” Aurora said softly, her hands twitching, she was resisting the urge to grab her necklace again.

“The war was hard on us all,” Fred said. “It’s taken a while to adjust to everything again. But Ray knows that when she’s ready, I’m ready to become Lord Consort Potter.”

Sirius and James continued to frown, but noticing the tears Aurora was trying to hold back, stopped themselves from saying any more. It was obviously a difficult topic for her.

Aurora 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.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, 

“Why would you have to get a rabbit out of it,” Xenophilius asked.

“It’s a muggle illusion that some people do, and call it magic,” Ted explained. 

Aurora thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared 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: 

Lily singing the song in a melodic, soprano voice.

“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;

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;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You’ll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

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!”

“That was beautiful,” James sighed, while Severus stared at Lily with longing. Her voice was angelic.

Sirius willfully misunderstanding him, replied, “It was a rather nice song, ours haven’t been anywhere near as pleasant.”

“We weren’t at war yet,” Draco sighed.

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.

 “So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispered to Aurora. “I’ll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll.”

Ron and Hermione burst out laughing, while Aurora stared at Fred for a moment before looking at Luna, and said, “Neville, switch spots with Fred, Luna has things to teach him.” She pushed Fred out of his seat, and Neville laughingly moved over to the now open space next to Aurora, while Fred went to sit in Neville’s spot next to Luna, who patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. 

The Weasley parents, the Marauders, and Lily look worriedly at the trio all wondering the same thing, ‘where on earth did they see a troll’.

Aurora smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but she did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Aurora didn’t feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for her.

“I think that would be the one for everyone,” Remus said softly, he remembered how nervous he was for his sorting, afraid that the hat wouldn’t sort him because he was a werewolf.

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, that Aurora saw on the boat with Amice, stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause —

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

Aurora saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

“Bones, Susan!”

“This is my niece, I take it,” Amelia asked, receiving several nods in reply.

“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; Aurora could see Ron’s twin brothers catcalling.

“Boys,” Molly lightly scolded.

“Oh it’s not just the girls they do it for Mrs. Weasley,” Neville said with a blush.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Aurora’s imagination, after all she’d heard about Slytherin, but she thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

“We are not unpleasant just because we do not behave like hooligans,” Lucius drawled.

“And yet we have such a bad reputation because we seem unapproachable because of the masks we all wear,” Draco countered his father smoothly, cutting off any idea of debate about Slytherins being unpleasant.

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.

“Diggory, Amice!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Knew it!” The Marauders yelled. Amice laughed at them.

Aurora worried about what would happen between herself and her new friends if they didn’t end up in the same house. Would they still want to be friends with her? 

“Oh Ro,” Amice sighed.

“I know, but I had never had friends before.”

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Sometimes, Aurora 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 Aurora 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.

Peter looked at the girl questioningly, “Gryffindor?”

“The hat didn’t even consider me for Ravenclaw actually,” Hermione said softly, everyone leaned forward, she had never told anyone about her sorting, not even Ron or Aurora. “It said I think too critically for Ravenclaw. My ambition in learning all my course material before school even started however was a great trait for Slytherin. But my bravery in coming to a new world, and trying to make friends that I never had before were the traits of a true Gryffindor.”

Ron and Aurora just hugged her tightly, and both whispered in her ears, not that they heard each other, “It considered Slytherin for me too.”

A horrible thought struck Aurora, 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 her 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?

When Neville Longbottom, her new brother, 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 

“The same thing happened to me,” Alice said.

amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag.” 

Malfoy swaggered 

“I do not swagger,” Draco complained, annoyed.

“You swagger,” all the time travelers but Aurora announced. While Aurora said, sarcastically, “And my dad doesn’t strut.”

“Oh he struts all right,” Lily, Alice, Marlene and Severus all said.

forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, “SLYTHERIN!” 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, Aurora!”

She almost didn’t step forward, hadn’t she just been told a month ago that her legal name was Potter-Black, shouldn’t the school have her name correct, Aurora wondered. She eventually decided that it didn’t really matter. As Aurora stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

“Potter, did she say?”

“The Aurora Potter?”

The last thing Aurora saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

“Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting… So where shall I put you?”

Aurora gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. Please don’t put me with Malfoy.

Draco looked very offended, and ashamed. “I’m the reason you fought against Slytherin. Not their reputation, despite what everyone so far has told you about the house, but because of what I said on the train to you.”

Aurora shrugged, he wasn’t wrong.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you’re sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!”

The Marauders all cheered, while Lily beamed. She would have been fine no matter what house Aurora was sorted into, but to hear that her daughter would be in the same house as she was filled her with such joy.

Sirius was so happy that his goddaughter was a Gryffindor, but at the same time, he agreed with the hat, Slytherin would have been a great house for her to be in having grown up as a muggle but the heir to two very powerful families. Plus the abuse that she had been through, there were several families that would have helped her out, even the Malfoy’s for all that Draco appeared to be a prat when he was younger.

Aurora heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. She took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Aurora sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she’d seen earlier. The ghost patted her arm, giving Aurora the sudden, horrible feeling she’d just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

“Why must they do that,” Fabian and Gideon complained.

She could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught her eye and gave her the thumbs up. Aurora grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Aurora recognized him at once from the card she’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. Aurora spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

Alastor took note of the observation. 

And now there were only four (the book says three but there is very clearly four) people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Aurora at the Gryffindor table. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron’s turn. He was pale green by now. Aurora crossed her fingers under the table and a few seconds later the hat had shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Aurora clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her, he was the only person who had been sorted into Gryffindor that the twins did not catcall.

“Well we didn’t catcall you either,” Fred said.

“She got her own cheer,” Amice said. “I think that’s actually worse.”

“Well done, Ron, excellent,” said Percy Weasley pompously across Aurora as “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Aurora looked down at her empty gold plate. She had only just realized how hungry she was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

“You need to eat better on the train,” Andromeda scolded gently, her tone motherly.

“Yes Andi,” Aurora sighed, a soft smile on her face, before she realized what she had called her, and her face morphing to one of horror.

Seeing the look on Aurora’s face, Andromeda was quick to reassure her, “It’s fine dear, you can call me Andi. All my family does.”

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. Aurora didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

“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, Aurora?”

“All the best wizards and witches are a bit mad,” Luma said, “it allows them to think of ways to use spells that normal people wouldn’t dream of.”

Aurora’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.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Aurora, but she’d never been allowed to eat as much as she liked. 

“I beg to differ,” Molly and Andromeda said, shocked that she didn’t consider what they did to be starving. “It most certainly is starvation,” Andromeda continued.

“I never really thought about it before,” Aurora said. “It had to be pointed out to me that what they did was abuse before I thought that there was anything wrong with the way they treated me, so I didn’t think that withholding meals from me was starving me.”

Dudley had always taken anything that Aurora really wanted, even if It made him sick. Aurora piled her plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

“That does look good,” said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Aurora 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 know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you — you’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

“Oh, don’t make him do it,” Alice groaned.

“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?”

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn’t going at all the way he wanted. 

“He actually loves it, don’t let him fool you,” Remus laughed.

“He loves all the reactions,” Peter added.

“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. 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! 

“Six years!” The Marauders yelled, while Severus, Lucius and Narcissa looked smug. The others in the room just looked confused, what about the other two houses, how did Slytherin manage to beat out three houses in points, for six years in a row.

The Bloody Baron’s becoming almost unbearable — he’s the Slytherin ghost.”

“Actually he was quite offended on behalf of the other houses,” Amice said.

“What’s going on with the points system?” Flitwick asked.

Aurora cringed and said, “Can I explain in just a minute? It’ll be easier that way.” The Professors nodded, but none of them looked very happy.

Aurora 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, Aurora was pleased to see, didn’t look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

“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 flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Aurora helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

“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.

Aurora frowned, she didn’t find that funny at all. She was picturing a witch marrying someone like Uncle Vernon, that situation would end very badly. She knew what someone who hated magic could do to a magical child. 

Severus glared at the floor, while Lily and Aurora looked at him sadly.

“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. 

“MOTHER!” Frank yelled looking at Augusta, while Alice looked at her son in horror, before running over to him.

“Were you okay?” she asked, checking him over, as if she could see evidence of something that happened to him over 12 years ago, his time.

“I’m fine mum,” Neville reassured. “Gran kicked him out of the house and I haven’t seen him since.”

“I was a late bloomer too,” Frank said, reminding his mother that he didn’t show his first signs of accidental magic until he was almost 9.

“It wasn’t even that,” Neville stated. He couldn’t stand anyone being mad at his Gran, she had done the best she could in her situation. “I was performing magic soon after being born, Gran told me later. But after the attack, they thought a stray cruciatus might have hit me, and because I was so young they thought that it affected my magic more than anything and that’s why I never showed any magic between 15 months and 8 years old.”

All three Longbottom’s looked at Neville appraisingly. It did make sense.

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. Gran was so pleased she bought me my toad.”

On Aurora’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 — ”).

Aurora, 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.

“NO!” James, Sirius, and Severus all yelled.

“I would never become a teacher,” Severus exclaimed.

“He will torture Ray,” Sirius shouted.

Flitwick looked over to Aurora, “I take it you were waiting for his reveal to explain about the points situation.” 

“I don’t know much, just rumors, but I know that Slytherin’s themselves as a house were closer than ever once he took over as Head of House,” Aurora started, which made Severus perk up a little, knowing that he helped foster the idea of unity within his house. “But with that came the issue that some Slytherin’s thought the rules didn’t apply to them.” Here she shot a glare at Draco, who just whispered, “You’re one to talk.”

“This mostly happened because he thought that the amount of points taken from his house in other classes than Potions was not comparable to the amount taken from other classes. The problem was that the amount of points he would take from the other houses in potions was so much that the other professors were trying to balance the equation, which then made him take more from the others and give more to the Slytherins.”

“It was a vicious cycle,” Draco said, explaining a little more. “You guys tried to make it better, but the students of Slytherin didn’t really help. We thought that any bit of point taking was discrimination based on our house, so he tried to offset it more. In the end he always managed to add just enough that Slytherin won the house cup, which just fueled the prejudice against us.”

“So what you are saying is that I made a bad situation, worse, because I was teaching, something I swore I would never do.” Severus drawled. “I have no patience to teach a bunch of dunderheaded children the delicate art of potion making.”

“Wow Uncle Sev,” Draco exclaimed, “You just sounded so much like your future self.” All the time travelers laughed.

“Uncle?” Severus and Lucius questioned.

“You named him my godfather,” Draco answered, drawing a rare smile from Severus and a contemplative look from Lucius and Narcissa.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Aurora’s eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Aurora’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Aurora clapped a hand to her head.

“Severus,” Lily said sternly.

“It wasn’t him,” Aurora defended. She didn’t like the man, she never would. He was out for himself, and before her mother’s death, Lily, but the man did die for her, and did his best to keep the Death Eaters from completely taking over the school at the end,  so she had a modicum of respect for Severus Snape.

“Yes well I’m sure I will have to have a talk with him about his behavior to my child at some point.” Lily pronounced.

“What is it?” asked Percy.

“N-nothing.”

“It was obviously not nothing,” James scolded.

“She’s banned from saying the phrase ‘I’m fine’,” Fred interrupted her, before she could say anything in her defense.

“She would say she was fine if she was missing a limb,” Neville added. 

Lily, James and Sirius all narrowed their eyes at Aurora.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Aurora had gotten from the teacher’s look — a feeling that he didn’t like Aurora at all.

“Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he 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.”

Lily growled. She knew well how much about the dark arts Severus knew. 

“I highly doubt that was true,” Severus grumbled. “Everyone knows the position is cursed, no teacher has ever lasted a year. And if I am going to teach anything, it would be potions.”

“You were forced to teach,” Aurora said, once again not offering any explanations, but she did run her hand along her left forearm with a pointed look at Severus, who pretended not to notice. 

‘It seemed that the Potter girl knew that he was to be marked soon, and most likely that Lucius was already marked,’ Severus thought to himself. It made him even more curious as to why they were there, although them being there as a favor for Draco, who seemed to be rather chummy with the girl might explain it too.

Aurora watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn’t look at her again.

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.”

“Unless of course you are assigned to the forest as detention,” Amice grumbled. Remus and Sirius were the only ones who heard and shared a look of astonishment.

Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

“Ahh, I miss when we were the ones who got that look,” Fred sighed dreamily.

“Yea after their second year it was always aimed at Ro, and Ron,” Ginny laughed. 

“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.

“Does anyone ever actually follow that rule?” Marlene asked.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

“Do you ever try out for the team?” James asked, trying to contain his enthusiasm. ‘

The time travelers laughed when Aurora said, “I can honestly say I never tried out for the quidditch team.” 

“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.”

“What?” Amos and Molly demanded.

“It’s in the book, and only for the year,” Fred assured.

Aurora laughed, but she was one of the few who did.

“He’s not serious?” she muttered to Percy.

Marlene kissed Sirius quickly to prevent him from talking.

“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.”

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” cried Dumbledore. Aurora noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore looked at his fellow teacher’s, “Do you not like the school song?”

“We would like it more if there was a set tune,” McGonagall answered for the others.

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 favorite 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. 

“We always did the same,” Fabian and Gideon exclaimed.

Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

“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. Aurora’s legs were like lead again, but only because she was so tired and full of food. She was used to exercise, running away from Dudley’s gang was no walk in the park. 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 Aurora was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

“Why is he taking you the long way,” Alice asked. There are much faster ways to get to the tower.

“Percy never really explored the castle,” Fred explained. “He found a route to and from his classes and the library and never bothered to learn more.”

“Until next year,” Ginny giggled.

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,” Percy whispered to the first years. “A poltergeist.” He raised his voice, “Peeves — show yourself.”

The Marauder’s shook their heads. Never demand things of Peeves.

“That was rather rude,” Xenophilius said. “He might be a menace but you should still be nice to him.”

The Weasley siblings just shrugged. Percy was who he was.

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’ll just make it worse,” Remus groaned.

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.”

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 cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

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 pajamas and fell into bed.

“It’s really beautiful isn’t it,” Hermione asked, through the hangings. The other girls in the room, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and Lily Moon, all hummed in agreement.

Aurora was going to ask if they'd had any of the treacle tart, but she fell asleep almost at once.

Perhaps Aurora 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. 

“Maybe you need to go sit next to Luna,” Neville whispered to Aurora, who looked shocked at this dream. She did not remember having it at all.

Aurora told the turban she didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; she tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at her as she struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Aurora woke, sweating and shaking.

She rolled over and fell asleep again, and when she woke next day, she didn’t remember the dream at all.

“Well that was a little creepy,” James said.

“Yeah,” all the time travelers agreed. It was a little creepy how accurate that dream was.

“Who would like to read next?” Lily asked.

“I will have a go, Miss Evans…”