Chapter 8: Sorting and Beginning
Chapter 8: Sorting and Beginning
As she walked up to the hat, Sarah hid a smile, Miss McGonagall had seemed a little… flustered then, annoyed at having to call her miss Sarah but then she hadn’t provided her last name nor would she, she didn’t like it, much preferring Miss Sarah.
A sharp pain flashed through her mind as she placed the hat on her head, ancient illusion spells reacting with her own, very marginally controlled abilities. She truly hoped she didn’t have to keep this thing on long, if she did, she was going to need more than a paracetamol or two, about a whole factories production of Pharmacy strength painkillers might just do it.
“Ahhh… Welcome to Hogwarts miss Sarah, why weren’t you sorted before? You should have been, it’ll be a little awkward joining the same classes as your age group…. Oh, I say! Oh, I say!
Well, that I’m afraid takes precedence, your sorcery was lost the moment you defeated… him. But with those powers you could be so much more…
He is great, powerful and terrible and you could be too you know, you have the power…”
Sarah’s minds filled with an image of the table of slytherins and she shuddered, she wanted no part of that. She wanted friends, no lackeys and allies of convenience.
“Good, there is enough darkness in this world already but oh! I see you have made your mind up already. Are you sure, Gryffindor and safety do not often go together…”
A snort filled Sarah’s mind, an image of Sir Didimus attempting to show her a charge from the back of his Old English sheepdog stead. That wasn’t safe either, not in the confines of her room, but she put up with it because he was, above all else, a friend.
“Very well then… Gryffindor!”
The last Sarah realised as cheering filled the room, had been shouted aloud.
Good, she was where she wanted to be. Maybe it was a good omen, or maybe as the Hat seemed to indicate, it was putting her into danger but either way, for now, she was welcomed.
In fact, welcomed was hardly the word to describe it. One of the group from the train had blabbed and now everyone on the Gryffindor table knew what she had done to Malfoy and his goons and as a result, she had become something of a hero. They also knew something she hadn’t; when she withdrew the spell she hadn’t quite managed it, the Goons still had a mirror each floating around them.
Chuckling, Sarah glanced around and ignored the Goons glares as she looked and finally found the slowly fading mirrors.
“What did you say their names were, Harry?”
“Crabbe and Goyle” Harry replied and Sarah glanced over amused, not mistaking his tone for anything other then disgust and annoyance.
Then, a thought hit her.
“Crabbe? I thought that was something covered in Sex Ed not a name…and Goyle rhymes with boil, ready to be lanced…”
The tables dissolved in snickers and laughter and Sarah watched as Malfoy and his Goons went red with anger, they might be slow on occasion but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that when an entire table started laughing and smirking at you, that you had been the butt of a bad joke. Malfoy had no way of knowing he wasn’t actually getting laughed at, he just happened to be between Crabbe and Goyle who were the butts of the joke. Malfoy was therefore not impressed.
Sarah shuddered; glancing away from the look of pure evil and hatred he sent her and promised herself never to turn her back on Malfoy. She didn’t doubt he would quite happily shoot her in the back… well, this being a magical school, maybe hex her in the back would be more appropriate.
Sarah smiled sleepily from her room, she, unlike the rest of the house, had been given a single room which was attached to the house dormitories.
It had been a good day in all, made friends, had some fun, learnt a few things…
She frowned, like the fact that she should have received an invite to Hogwarts but hadn’t.
She would have to look into that at some point, but still, she needed to sleep.
Tomorrow she would have to start trying to learn to control her new powers.
The next morning found a wide awake and bemused Sarah watching as students trailed one by one or in small groups into the great hall for there breakfast, the bulk of them looking and moving like zombies and sleepwalkers.
It seemed the bulk of the student population weren’t morning persons.
“Morning Sarah” a yawning Ron told her, before absentmindedly sugaring an entire pot of Tea and going as if to drink.
Sarah hastily grabbed it off him, she had already tasted how strong it was and the idea of anyone on that much Caffeine was frightening to say the least. She quickly poured him a cuppa.
“Too much blood in your caffeine system, right?”
“Blood bad, caffeine good…”
Sarah had to stifle a chuckle, that one she could relate to.
She was interrupted by an amused, tolerant cough and she turned to see McGonagall behind her, her expression stern as always but a glint in her eye that told anyone who cared to look that she was highly amused.
“Professors Dumbledore, Flitwick and I have all agreed to help you learn to control your new skills and we have arranged a room where you can practice in your own time safely and without fear of interruptions”
The professor handed a parchment sheet over and Sarah took it, thanking the professor and looking bemused at what was, to her as somebody who grew up in the non-magical world, such an archaic and inefficient type of writing material.
An hour later, she made her way to the door of her first instructor, the small, chubby yet friendly Flitwick.
“Ah, Sarah welcome! Now, first thing I think you ought to do is learn about the nature of illusions…”