Chapter 1
Artemis and I kept our arms tightly linked as we entered the great hall. There was so many people. Hundreds of teenagers silently judging, trying to work out which house we would be in by our looks and family trees. Not that I minded, of course. Being the centre of attention is kind of my thing. We all shuffled up the wide aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, feeling the hundreds of eyes latched onto us. I glanced to my left and caught the eye of Persephone, my Slytherin half-sister who was in her seventh year at the time. She paid no attention to me, and kept on scarfing down a large plate of ham, taking no breaths between bites. I shuddered. Sometimes that girl really grossed me out. A few tables away from her sat Ares, my half brother who was in Gryffindor. He was in his fourth year, and was making a racket by chucking pieces of food at the poor Hufflepuffs at the table in front of him.
I pitied the Hufflepuffs. They had no reputation. They were dirt among diamonds. The youngest, untalented sibling. A bunch of sissies. That's what my dad told me.
"Only the weak are put in Hufflepuff!" He had thundered as we waited for the train to arrive in the station only a few hours ago. "My children are either cunning, brave, clever or nothing! The Hufflepuffs are the friendly ones," he had spat. "Is that what you want to be known for? Friendliness?" Father had been a Slytherin when he was at school. A great one, too. He had been Head Boy and Prefect, so I figured he knew what he was talking about. The only people in my family who have been in Hufflepuff were my mother, my uncle Hades and my auntie Hestia. All were okay, I guess, but I did not want to be pegged as soft-spoken or a wuss. I had so many half-siblings and family, and I wanted to stand out. I wanted to make my dad proud.
We reached the top table, where an old, grimy looking hat was placed on a simple wooden stool.
"Oh please," I whispered to my twin. "They expect us to wear that dusty old thing? And that stool. Would it not be more welcoming if it were say…a golden throne? Just spitballing ideas, don't bother making me headmaster yet." Artemis rolled her eyes.
"You are so high maintenance!" She whispered back to me. "You do realise we are not going to be pampered like we are at home?"
"Honestly, Artie. Once they see us arrive at the Gryffindor table, they'll make us their leaders!" She smirked at my comment.
"We are going to own these losers. I just hope we don't get stuck with our father's legacy. I mean, Head Boy and Prefect? That's a lot to live up to."
"Ach, don't sweat it sis! When we're Head Boy and Girl, dad will be so impressed. Athena's the only other one who's really got a shot so far. And she's four years ahead of us. We'll have no trouble landing those crowns."
The deafening voice of Professor Hera, the universally hated vice principal and my step-mother, rang out, the sound reverberating off the stone walls and commanding silence. She declared that Headmaster Zeus (my dad) could not be here tonight, for he was off on school business. A slight snigger went up from the crowd. My dad was a known ladies' man and irresistible bachelor. How else would he have so many kids who weren't even directly related? Every time he was 'off on school business' a new kid cropped up a couple of years later. Hera did not seem to find this particularly funny, and snapped at the students for silence. She then explained how the sorting worked, and reluctantly stepped back to allow the hat to sing its yearly song. This was the part I'd been looking forward to. I love music.
"Step up, step up! And gather round,
To find where you belong.
All of you I shall astound,
With my great sorting song!
One of four you shall be,
But do not fear or fret.
I'm never wrong as you shall see,
When on your head I'm set!"
It went on for a few more verses, and I could only get more excited. The hat was so good at this! I would have to get his advice while I was up there.
All too soon, the song ended, and Hera began calling names.
"Diana, Artemis!"
My dear sister squeezed my hand and dashed up to the podium. No sooner than the hat was placed on her head, it sprang to life and screamed: "GRYFFINDOR!"
Whoops and cheers engulfed the right side of the room. Artemis suppressed a wide grin as she made her way over to the sea of red. Our family was well-known and it was usually an honour to have one of us on your team. She would most definitely be welcomed. More names were called. I was not worried. I would surely get into Gryffindor. That's where my twin was, and we were alike in so many ways. Besides, if worst came to worst, I could tolerate Ravenclaw - of course, I was as creative as they get.
When there was about ten kids left, it happened.
"Phoebus, Apollo!"
I smirked and sauntered my way up to the front, and and on the stool, grinning over at the Gryffindor table, letting them know I'd be a good addition to their house. My sister nodded to me, seeming a lot more nervous than I was. I felt the hat being placed on my head.
Immediately, my head was buzzing with voices and old memories being yanked to the surface of my brain from deep in my subconscious. A gruff, echo-y voice 'hmm'ed and muttered to itself; "Well...that's interesting. Very interesting indeed..." I gripped the sides of the stool.
"Interesting?" I thought to the hat, not sure if it would hear or respond.
"What's interesting is that you could easily belong to any house. You've got a lot of clashing attributes. Hmmm...intelligent, but not fore-thinking. Kind but vengeful and quick to anger. Confident yet insecure. Quite a tricky one."
"Gryffindor, please. Also, I liked your song." The hat chuckled. It sounded like an old squeaky toy had been clogged with dust.
"Thanks. But it's not that simple, kid."
This mumbling and going back and forth between houses lasted an eternity. I saw Ares yawn and turn his attention back to chucking bread at first years. Over at the Ravenclaw table, my half-sister Athena furrowed her eyebrows and concentrated on me, probably trying to figure out if her previous predictions on my house had been incorrect. Artemis only stared at me, but made no emotion obvious.
"Well, kid. You've got the stuff. I think you'll be..."
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat hollered across the hall, sending a roar of applause and cheering from the Hufflepuff table. It had been years since they'd had someone from my family in their house, that last being my boring uncle Hades, and they were ecstatic. surely, given my great ancestry, I would win them fame! Let me tell you, dear reader, I was crestfallen. Completely and utterly crushed.
I felt all colour drain from my face as I looked over at my sister for reassurance. She did not look shocked. Instead, she wore a pitying, knowing expression. That look wounded me even deeper. I swallowed hard as I stood, drunkenly staggering to a free space, any space on the Hufflepuff benches. The Loser Benches. My knees wobbled dangerously and my hands trembled. Finally finding a free spot, slipped in and shook off the pats on the back and scowled at those who punched me gently on the shoulder in way of greeting. Of course, this usually would have been my cue to flash my glorious white-toothed grin at all who were around me, but the situation had caught me extremely off guard. Every word of congratulations and welcome washed over my head in a wave of static. I was reduced to glaring daggers into the steaming bowl of carrots on the table.
The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur. Other unfortunate pansies at the Hufflepuff table had received my wordless message and left me alone, until a third year elbowed me in the ribs, nodding his head towards a copper-skinned seventh year student clad in black and yellow robes who must have been the Head Boy. He was rounding up the youngest and yelling: "First years! First year Hufflepuffs, follow me please!" across the hall. I reluctantly stood and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible (I know! How unlike me! Surely the very bricks of the school should have ripped apart at the very thought) as I made my way toward him.
We passed the Gryffindors on the way out of the Great Hall. Frantically, I looked around for any sign of Artemis, but instead was met with Ares' malice grin. He pushed himself in between me and the rest of my house, causing a traffic jam of students. The second and third years that surrounded us gave me worried glances; they'd seen the wrath of my brother. But so had I.
"Dad's gonna hang you, Sunny," he jeered, stomping closer to me. I stood my ground, glaring up at his fiery amber eyes. I had dealt with my half-witted half-brother a billion times before. He was all bark, no bite. I was not scared of him.
"Go complain to your mummy, Ares." I retorted, pointing up the hall to the teacher's table where Hera sat talking to Demeter, the Herbology professor. "Or does she not care about you either?" He scowled.
"You're one to talk, brat. You got the Loser house, just like your Loser mother!"
"Take it back," I hissed, my hands curling into fists. He laughed gruffly. Taking another step, he puffed out his chest and held up his chin in pride. I rolled up my right sleeve, and Ares' toothy grin widened, hitting me full force with his pungent breath. But before things could get physical (eg: interesting), the Hufflepuff Head Boy whom I was supposed to be following shouldered himself between us.
"Back off you two," he said in his obviously practiced 'Authoritative Voice'. "And you there, Ares. Don't think the headmaster doesn't have his eye on you. One wrong move and you'll be out of this school faster than you can say 'Hogwarts'. I'd say your father would be far more disappointed in a failure student than one that was put in an unpopular house. Now shoo!" Ares, like the coward he was, scampered off and disappeared in the crowd. The older boy turned to me. "You okay?" I only grunted in response. He gave a half-hearted kind smile and guided me back to the gaggle of students who were swarming down a old stairwell, were he left to push his way back to the front of the line to become their leader again.
The Hufflepuffs flocked through wide, stone corridors alongside the Slytherins, who were also heading down into the basement. Persephone caught up with me and chatted excitedly about how dead I was.
"Daddy's going to murder you!" She japed in a cheerful sing-song voice. "Oh, you are dead meat, Sunny. You going to have to stay here during the holidays and-oh! Maybe you'll have to stay over the summer too! Isn't that awful?" She giggled in that annoying way that girls do. Her dark glossy hair spilled down her shoulders in waves, reminding me of reeds that had withered in the sun. A curl of it was pinned back in a brooch shaped like a skull. Her tanned complexion reflected the light of the magical candles floating down the hallways. Her eyes were her mother's; deep and green, but with a certain scheming cruelness in them that Demeter's eyes did not possess. Those were my father's genes. With one last snort of laughter, she informed me that she was off to scare more 'firsties', and ran ahead.
Eventually, the two houses parted ways, the Slytherins going deeper underground while we took a left and continued on the same floor. As we passed a large, intricate still life of a bowl of fruit, the Head Boy at the front yelled "Nearly there!" Not twenty seconds after, the group stopped. I couldn't see what all the commotion was about. Had we run into a ghost who told us to get lost? Had we taken a wrong turn? Or maybe they'd finally realised that I should be up in one of the towers, with the Gryffindors. Yes, that last one seemed likely. I stood on my tip-toes and jumped, but all I could see was a ceiling-to-floor stack of old, dusty barrels. Boring.
"Okay, first years! Come up to the front please! Second to seventh years, make way! You already know how this works." The second to seventh years did as they were asked, and squished themselves to the side of the corridor, smiling and giggling, giddy from being in the company of their friends at Hogwarts once again. The first years filtered to the front, and faced the stack of barrels, most of us equally confused (though some no doubt had siblings in this house before them, and knew of the secret entrance before I did). "Alright, now listen closely! If you get this wrong, you may have to take several showers before you get the stench off you!" He said cheerfully, his voice echoing down the candle-lit hallway.
A girl in front of me nudged the person next to her and hissed; "What's that supposed to mean?"
Another girl whispered back; "If you tap the wrong barrel or the wrong sequence, one of the lids bursts off and drenches you in vinegar! How cool is that?" I shuddered. The last thing I wanted was to stink and be wearing yellow robes on my first day in class.
Meanwhile, the Head Boy had been explaining the password, and had now paused to look for a volunteer. I wasn't worried. I'd been here for no more than a few short hours, and already he'd had to pull me from a fight and see me getting stroppy at the dinner table. He'd choose one of the wide-eyed kids, who would probably thank the barrels if they got a vinegar shower. But despite common sense, his eyes landed on me.
"You there," he pointed. "Come on over! Don't be shy! I'll walk you through it." I cursed my natural stand-out-from-the-rest demeanour, and shuffled forward. I did not want a reason to embarrass myself. He put one strong hand on my shoulder, and pointed at a barrel. "That one there. Barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row. Remember: tap to the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', yeah? 'Hel-ga Huff-le-puff'."
Leaning toward the barrel, I poised my finger over the old wood and looked over my shoulder, where the Head Boy gave me an encouraging nod. This was just like music, right? Just a simple five-beat rhythm. I could do this. I tapped the barrel. 1-2 1-2-3.
The barrel's curve swung open, revealing a little upward-sloping earthen passage. Cheers went up from the crowd behind me, and I couldn't help a little smile creeping through my grumpy facade. Advancing one by one, they patted me on the back before turning to the entrance. They made their way into the passage, ducking down to get through the barrel, but straightening up once through the wooden doorway. A minute or so later, there was only me and the Head Boy left in the corridor. I looked at him quizzically.
"Why would you choose me?" I asked. "I've been nothing but trouble all night." He chuckled.
"You only needed encouragement. I've seen the Headmaster - your dad - angry. I don't blame you for wanting to be in a different house, especially if a parent's opinion is involved. There's one like you every year. The one who thinks they've let everyone down before they've even begun, just by being put in the 'friendly' house. I was that student too, believe it or not. All they need is a gentle push, like the Head Girl did for me when I was a first year. It'll work out," He prodded his temple. "The hat knows best. Now get inside. Next comes your mission briefing."
"My what?"
"It's a Hufflepuff rite of passage. You'll see."
It turned out that the so-called 'Hufflepuff rite of passage' was more of a trust-building team exercise. Each first year was put into groups of five or six, and took it in turns to be sent out into the hallway to find the kitchen. ("A well-known Hufflepuff trait is our brilliant finding abilities" a student had told us. "Don't stray from this corridor. That's all the clues you'll get from me.") The group who came back with the best snacks won. The kitchen happened to be behind the painting of the fruit, and could be opened by tickling the pear. (I still don't quite understand how a fellow first year figured that out. They said that "If I were a pear stuck in a boring old painting all day, I'd want to be tickled too!" There's really no explanation I can give you, reader. Apologies.) The house elves in the kitchen gave us full access to the cupboards, and told us to take whatever we wanted. Nice guys, those house elves. We stocked up on as much junk food as we could carry. Croissants and Jelly Babies, cinnamon rolls and danish pastries, peppermint toads and leftover pudding from the feast.
Upon arrival back to the common room, we dumped our treats down by the armful. Every pocket, sleeve and hood was filled with some kind of tasty confection. We were judged. Unsurprisingly, my group lost to the five kids who had came back with ambrosia (an enchanted brownie-like substance that glittered gold and changed its flavour to whatever you wanted while still in your mouth). None of us sulked. None of them teased. We all simply enjoyed the food together - it was divine.
By the time the clock struck 2am, the Head Boy advised us all to go to bed. I waved goodnight to my new acquaintances, and left the low-ceilinged, sofa-ridden, comfy common room. When I saw the official black and yellow Hufflepuff robes laid out neatly on my assigned bed (The first years had been wearing plain black robes bought from Diagon Alley until they were allocated a house) I somehow knew that dusty old hat was right after all.