Schrodinger's Cat

By the time the train slows, night has fallen, and Sirius, James, and I have changed into our school robes. I am relieved to see that we all look identical to one another.
“Hogsmeade Station,” a voice thunders as the train comes to a stop.
I slide the eleven and a quarter-inch reed wand I had bought last week into my robes, leaving my satchel behind.
Everyone clambers off the train and onto a platform.
Instantly, I am glad for the heavy black robe, as the fall air is chilly.
“First Years, follow me!” the voice thunders once more and I see where it is coming from.
A hulking man with a massive beard and frizzy hair stands at the opposite end of the platform.
“Come on,” James grabs my hand and I laugh, relieved not to be alone.
Sirius plows through the crowd, ignoring objections from the more vocal students.
“Find a boat, climb in real careful,” the man instructs, holding a lantern aloft.
“Look!” James points across the water.
I let out a gasp. There, across the lake, sits a massive castle. Towers climb towards the sky, and every window is brightly lit, illuminating the water below in a magnificent sparkle.
Before long, we are sailing across the dark lake, sitting in intense quiet.
We sail underneath the castle into a kind of boathouse.
“Careful climbin’ out,” the giant man says, helping a blond girl find her balance on the stone landing.
I follow James, Sirius, and the rest of the students up the stairs to a huge set of doors.
Sounds from the other side of the door reignite the nerves inside me, when McGonagall appears.
She leads us from one sconce-lit hall into another one, more chamber-like.
Shuffling feet reassure me that all of us are nervous.
“Welcome students, to Hogwarts,” she begins, a stern look on her face. “At the start of every Hogwarts’ students education, they are sorted into one of the great houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house will be like your family while you are here. You will share in each other’s triumphs, as well as your failures,” she looks over her glasses and I swallow.
“Each house has a long and illustrious history, producing incredibly talented witches and wizards. The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly, and I suggest all of you clean yourselves up.”
I try not to laugh as a short boy with dirty blond hair pats down loose strands and wipes his nose on his sleeve. It only takes a minute for a door to open and we are escorted into a gigantic hall. I keep my awe in check as people point at the ceiling, where there is in fact no ceiling, but rather the night sky.
“It isn’t really the night sky,” a pretty redhead explains to a girl besides her. “It’s magic.”
Her excitement oozes through me and I smile brightly at the four tables, filled with older students. Professor McGonagall starts announcing names and students are sorted, by a dirty old hat.
“Black, Sirius,” she says. I watch as he walks nervously to the stool. The hall has quieted significantly.
After what feels like forever the hat straightens atop his head and announces, “Gryffindor!”
Sirius is smiling like an idiot and takes a seat at a table filled with students adorned with red ties.
The table immediately to their right, Slytherin, seems to laugh at Sirius, murmuring amongst themselves.
I’m surprised when Professor McGonagall calls my name.
“Derringer, Connie.”
I thought for sure they would use my birth name. Fawley.
Heading up to the stool I think about the four houses. I think about Sirius and James. I’d like to be friends with them. Will my house change that?
“Derringer? No one can fool me. This is a Fawley’s head!” the hat whispers excitedly. “Thought the great house of Fawley had ended. Hm. I see quite a bit of wisdom, but fewer inhibitions than most. Courage or cunning? Ah, and a desire to outperform your classmates. Ravenclaw may be a disservice. Not enough… motivation. Slytherin!”
I hop down from the stool and glance at Sirius. His eyes are wide.
Smiling, I walk to the cheering Slytherins and sit down beside Wanda Abbott, the first person sorted.
“Hello,” she smiles, her gaze more focused on the students at the front of the hall. I look down the length of the table, surprised at how many tight faces there are.
What had Sirius said about Slytherin?
They churn out monsters and liars without a conscience.
And now I am a Slytherin.
By the time Potter, James is called, my stomach is in knots.
The hat barely sits on his head before exclaiming with more force that is probably necessary, “Gryffindor!”
He bounds down the steps and takes a comfortable place beside Sirius. Neither of them looks my way.
He launches into a loud conversation with the redhead who had known about the hall’s ceiling.
Once everyone is sorted, a tall bearded man stands and speaks jollily.
“Welcome students, old and new! I have nothing to say, Mwynhewch eich bwyd!”
He smiles and lifts his hands.
Out of nowhere, the tables fill with food and drink.
People dig in, filling their plates with chicken and potatoes and mushy vegetables.
I put a roll and a spoonful of carrots on my plate.
“Not hungry?” A boy with long dark hair asks. He has a rather severe face, with a protruding nose and sharp cheekbones.
I shake my head.
“I’m Severus,” he says, chewing on a chicken leg with a surprising amount of class.
I nod, not ready to introduce myself to the people I am going to live with for the next seven years.
Connie Fawley? Connie Derringer? Connemara Derringer? Connemara Fawley. My birthright.
He looks disappointed that I won’t respond.
I inhale and say, “Sorry, I am just tired. My name is Connie.”
He cracks a half-smile.
The wall of sounds from everyone else talking allows me to go back to picking at my food in silence.
Dumbledore ends the meal with announcements that only make my stomach pinch further. Areas that are out of bounds. A forest filled with monsters.
A thin, spindly boy with a shiny silver pin on his robes leads all of us out of the Great Hall and through the castle maze, stopping beside a tapestry depicting a beautiful lake scene.
“This is where you will find the entrance to Slytherin House. The password changes once a week. Do not tell anyone outside if Slytherin what it is and do not write it down. “Viper Venom.” He says and the tapestry moves to reveal a door.
We file in after him and I brace myself for the dungeon James had described on the train.
Except it isn’t what he said. Cold, bone-filled, and decrepit.
It’s wonderful. With rich green tapestries covering the walls and warm sconces illuminating silver furniture. There are also comfortable-looking leather couches, satin lounge chairs, and green and silver rugs.
The best part though is a floor-to-ceiling window at the far side of the common room.
The Black lake.
We file in and stare out the small creatures swimming past.
I could sit and watch the window for hours.
“First-year dorms are down the hall to the right. They split off. A word of warning. None of the other houses allow their students private rooms. Don’t mention it to anyone not wearing green.” The Prefect whose name I probably should have learned says.
The students start chattering so I take advantage of their desire to make friends and head down the hall.
I look in each room and discover for the most part they are identical. One small shared space and five doors. One for a bathroom and four that lead to small bedrooms.
I stop when I reach the very last girl’s dormitory. There is another viewing window in the space, unlike the other rooms I’ve checked.
“Thought you would snag the best room?” a girl’s voice comes from behind me.
I turn and offer a weak smile to three girls.
“I’m an early riser and I hate the cold.”
“We’ll get along just fine then,” the middle girl says. “I’m Valeria.”
“I’m Connie.”
“Sadie,” offers a ghostly pale girl with dark brown hair.
“Patricia,” says the third girl, who has bright blue eyes and beautiful icy-blonde hair.
“Connie? What is your last name?”
“Derringer.”
“I’ve never heard that surname. What is your blood status?” Valeria crosses her arms and walks further into the room.
“Blood status?” I ask.
All three girls gasp dramatically.
What did I say?
“Are you muggleborn?” Patricia asks, sounding scandalized.
“No. My parents both had magic. I was raised by muggles though,” I explain, starting to feel nervous about the girls who intend to share a room with me.
“Well, I don’t believe you. Derringer is not on the list of Pureblood families,” Valeria sneers.
“Is Fawley?” I ask, angry at her accusations that I would lie. “My birth name was Fawley.”
I don’t know why I am telling them. They haven’t earned the right to know me.
“Fawley? Really?” Sadie chimes in now.
I just nod.
“That makes you a pureblood then. Albeit a poorly raised one,” Valeria says, walking off to pick a room.
I just walk away into the one farthest from the bathroom door, near the viewing window.
The room is beautiful. With a full-sized bed and sturdy mahogany furniture.
I walk over to the window and press a hand to the cool glass.
The image changes to a portrait of a young girl in a black dress, sitting and reading. She is moving. I tap the portrait again and am relaxed to see it changes once more. This time into the night sky.
Sitting down on the bed with green blankets and silver sheets, I stare at the trunk that has magically appeared in the room.
I should unpack.
Instead, I cross the floor and leave the dorm rooms, navigating back to the common room.
The older students have trickled back in.
“Excuse me,” I approach a group of girls, each smiling brighter than the last.
Their smiles disappear, replaced by obvious suspicion.
“What do you want, Ickle firstie?” One of them, a brunette, asks.
“I was wondering if any of you knew a spell to change the color of something?” I ask it as a question of their ability.
Eyebrows raise.
A girl with jet black hair down to her waist smiles and stands up.
“What’s your name?”
“Connie. Fawley,” I settle on using my family name.
“Come on, Fawley,” she leads me back down the hall to my dorm. I step past her so she doesn’t have to guess which one is mine.
Once inside, I gesture to the tapestry and sheets.
“Is green not your color?” she asks.
“Actually, I was hoping for help changing these,” I lift open the top of my trunk.
Red. Lots of red. Professor McGonagall thought she was being helpful when we went in a muggle shop outside Diagon Alley. I didn’t have the heart to tell her red is my least favorite color.
The girl laughs. Brays really.
“What is your favorite color then?”
“Purple,” I say.
She changes each article. Some into beautiful lilac and mauve, others into green and silver. Another into a smart black.
Then, without my asking she waves her wand and the rest of my trunk unpacks itself. Books land on the desk, and knickknacks I’d chosen land on floating shelves I hadn’t noticed before. She changes the color of my feather pen, my winter scarf and my winter hat.. Each a lovely shade of purple.
“Thank you,” I say, genuinely.
“You can change the color of your sheets as well. Don’t need fancy spells for it either. Just ask aloud and they’ll change. We tend to favor our own sense of style in Slytherin.”
“Is there a way to change the temperature?”
She nods. “Same thing. Just ask the castle. It’’ll oblige.”
“What’s your name?” I realize she hasn’t told me.
“I’m Eleanor. Fifth-year. Welcome to Slytherin,” she cracks a smile.
I return it and then watch as she leaves.
Turning back to my room, I smile and climb into bed, feeling more comfortable with my placement in Slytherin.