Harry Potter and the Unlikely Gryffindor

Hera giggled, moving her hand out of the way as her quill sprayed ink all over her arm. She was getting the hang of writing with a quill but there were times when she pressed too hard and the thing literally spit ink all over the place. Fortunately Hermione used her wand to absorb it every time she did so that the ink would not ruin Hera's shirt. Hera had remembered various movies where she had seen the characters writing with feather quills. Watching from her seat at the time it looked like child's play. But there were nuances involved in trying to keep the ink where you wanted it that could never be portrayed on the movie screen. "At least you aren't doing this inside," Hermione sighed propping her head on her hand as she sat her elbow on the small table outside the Weasley house. She watched as Hera started re-copying the recipe for the Drought of Sleep taking great care not to press too hard. She did not want to start over again - as she had three times before.

Molly had recognized Hera's lack of raport with the quill with the first letter of reply the girl had sent to Headmistress McGonagall. The first week after the family had gotten back from back from shopping, Molly had implored Hermione to teach Hera the finer points of Wizarding society, which included writing with a quill. Hermione had flat out refused the first few times, citing that the young woman was just too old to learn so much in such a short time. But the real reason Hermione did not want anything to do with Hera was that she had taken too fast of a liking to Fleur when she and Bill came over to start getting ready for their wedding. The wedding would be held at the Burrow so that all of the Weasleys could attend and was scheduled to begin in less than a week. The two women could be seen in the gardens talking together as Bill and Charlie set up the portable awning with Arthur, the father of all the Weasley children.

Arthur had thrown himself into the preparations, wanting to make sure everything was perfect for his oldest son. He and Charlie made sure that Bill and Fleur's wedding would be spectacular. Neither had a fortune to spend, but they had their wands and what ever they could conjure was made for the wedding. Fleur honored her husband-to-be's wishes and kept out of the preparations. Bill recognized his father's desire to be needed for something around the house and made sure he had plenty to do. Fleur had at first protested but Bill explained his father's want to help, ("It would mean the world to him.") and she backed down. Fleur had tried to assist elsewhere, however Molly had already chased the two girls out of the kitchen when Fleur made an incredible nuisance out of herself and Hera tried to peel the potatoes and instead ended up shooting one up Ron's nose.

The ensuing trip to St. Mungo's, paid for by Fleur, was enough to break the tension as the healer tried several times to hex the potato out of Ron's nose and ended up lengthening his nose hairs instead. It seemed to help force the potato out, which knocked the healer out cold upon its exit. This left Ronald with nose hairs the length of Fleur's tresses and a quick trim from Molly brought everything back to normal again. Except from then on, Hera insisted on calling Ron 'glow bug' from the way his nose hairs had flashed a violent red when they shot the potato out of his nose. Bill and Charlie were no help either as they too adopted the nick name for their youngest brother and kept referring to him with it all the way up to the wedding.

The ceremony was over seen by a friend of Arthur's within the Ministry who resided over civil unions. The back yard of the Burrow had been transformed into a scene out of a Shakespearian sonnet. The awning had been covered in white cloth that cast an almost magical glow onto the groom. The scars on Bill's face seemed to soften under the white canopy, dressed in his best dress robes and wearing a red rose on his lapel. The bride by contrast was positively glowing. Her hair was pulled back into a French twist, small spiral curls of hair framing her face. The veil had been secured with a tiara that had been given to Fleur by Molly the year previous. The bride's dress was only the best from a wizarding designer from Paris. It was a strapless corset top dress with flowing silk skirts ending in a train several yards long. The whole skirt and veil seemed to move of its own accord as thought caught in a gentle breeze.

Molly had broken down and had to be quieted by Arthur as soon as Bill had entered with Fleur, the palms of their hands touching as they approached the altar where they stood silently. The ceremony was simple and elegant as both the bride and groom read their vows. Charlie, who had come all the way from Romania to be Bill's best man, was trying his hardest not to cry. Like his mother he was failing miserably as he tried to blow his nose as silently as he could. Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister was her maid of honor, and demurely dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief as Ginny and Hermione both held each other's hands behind her. Ron was feeling positively uncomfortable in his new dress robes, courtesy of Harry. No matter what, Ron always found something to complain about, like the robes making him sweat under the white canopy in the August heat.

It really was not that warm, in fact the white sheet had a cooling charm on it so that the air that blew past it was cooled quite comfortably. But the heat was not why Ron was sweating. It was the way Hermione was looking at him with a mixture of longing and awe, and Ron knew that she was imagining herself and Ron in Bill and Fleur's place. Harry nudged Ron in the side again to get him to stop moving around so much. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he glanced over to Ginny. Their eyes had met at the same time and Harry could see that she had the same look that was on Hermione's face. Though Ginny looked a little gloomy at the same time, and Harry cleared his throat and pretended to concentrate very hard on what the pastor was saying. He was not sure that he could have held her gaze any longer without trying to close the distance between them.

The only person who was absent, was Percy. Molly had sent him an invitation, had written an aside begging him to come. But Percy had refused, not even bothering to Owl back his response. He had instead chosen to remain silent, even at work he addressed his father as 'Mr. Weasley' and pretended to be only semi related to his father. Considering his attitudes and the fact that he had only come to Christmas the previous year so that the new Minister could corner Harry, Arthur had come to the unfortunate and painful decision to never allow his son back into his home. He had ample time to apologize the past year and instead of asking for forgiveness, Percy had let his ego get in the way and treated his family like he had nothing to do with them. "Well, if my own son can throw away the family that raised him for his pride," Mr. Weasley had fumed after Molly had asked him to reconsider, "then he can say good bye to this family ever welcoming him back." Molly had tried to bring the matter up again later in the week, but Arthur had made up his mind and would not let Molly speak further than the first few words before putting his foot down. That had been the first time that Harry had ever seen Arthur raise his voice at Molly in all the years he had known him.

After the ceremony the entire family, minus Percy, gathered in the Burrow to celebrate Weasley style. There were tankards of Butterbeer and flasks of Fire Whiskey for the adults. The men folk stayed in the den, each toasting the newly married couple as Molly bustled in the kitchen with Ginny and Hermione to lay out the huge meal on the tables outside. Molly had allowed Fleur to assist her, though the young bride was surprisingly silent. Molly had come to accept Fleur as a part of the family but that did not mean that she would tolerate being told how things were supposed to be done in her own house.

As the setting sun threw the clouds into brilliant shades of lavender and magenta the entire house, guests and all sat down to dinner and settled into loud conversation. "To the new Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!" the toast had made it's way around the table before an obviously drunk Ron had morphed it into "To the new Messer and Messy Wheezy!" followed by a rather slurred "May they be as fertile as mum!" Of course Ron had realized what he had said the moment the last syllable left his mouth, and clamped his hand over his face before sinking down into his seat among roars of laughter. His mother had very nearly choked on a piece of treacle tart as she stared at Ron, his face hidden by his hands. That didn't hide the fact that his ears were now the same color as his hair. Though Hermione had taken the outburst as her cue to get Ronnald to bed, and was able to do so without one protest or complaint from him.

The next morning found the group out by the apple orchard, engaging in a friendly game of Quidditch. Hera was back at her quill writing practice with Hermione, thankfully making fewer messes as the day before. Though she would get distracted when she happened to catch the one on one match out of the corner of her eye and would have to be brought back to the lesson by an increasingly exasperated Hermione.

The ease of the autumn afternoon was broken by twin pops bringing with them twin redheads out by the apple orchard. The two laughed as they stood there waving at Harry and Ron, their hands suspiciously behind their backs. One of those widely grinning red-heads aimed a can of some sort into the one-on-one Quidditch game looking like he was about to douse Harry with hair spray as he flew by. Fred depressed the top of the can and a cloud of oily black smog filled the air. The cloud was so thick it muffled the cursing of the two boys trying to find a way out. The next moment a dark ball of flapping, screeching, screaming Harry came whizzing by followed closely by Ginny who was desperately trying to peg him to nullify the Portable Bat-Bogey Hex the Twins had sprayed onto the two boys. "Works great! Thanks for volunteering to test our new Porta-Bogey Mace," Fred and George guffawed waving before they Disapparated in twin pops of imploding air. They were able to get out just in time as their mother came out of the house pointing a wet stirring spoon instead of her wand.

"Does that happen often," Hera asked, laughing as Harry waved his hands around his head as Molly finely found her wand and got in on trying to nullify the hex. The two were have hard time of it since Harry could not tell which way was up since his face was covered by screeching bats. Hermione was surveying the situation along with Hera's amusement with contempt.

"Their getting tangled in my hair," he exclaimed screaming like a little girl when one of the bats bit him on the back of his hand.

"Well, maybe if you combed that monster on your head this year they wouldn't have anything to tangle into!" Ginny was trying to hold Harry's hands down after she had nearly hexed off his thumb. Molly tried her hand but missed when Harry turned and ended up sending one of the Gnomes who had poked his head up out of the ground screaming at least twenty yards, the little lumpy looking creature disappearing in the brush.

"Unfortunately," Hermione answered with an exasperated sigh as she watched Ron roll in the grass holding his sides as he watched poor Harry getting smacked both by bats and Weasley women. Hera was not helping matters when she suggested that Hermione let Crookshanks get rid of the bats. Hermione's cat sat on the edge of the table looking offended at the remark as he showed her his back side and jumped off the table, his tail held stiffly in the air behind him.

"Oh honestly," Ginny sighed as she grabbed Harry by his cheeks and planted her lips on his. Apparently her hasty plan had worked because in the next instant Molly had nullified the hex. Harry though was none the wiser, all his attention on that one kiss. The reason be damned; he wasn't going to question this!

Molly planted her fist on her hips giving the spectacle the sternest look she could manage. "Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley admonished her daughter though this didn't serve to break their kiss. Apparently this was brewing all summer just waiting for the right moment to unveil itself. Which it did when right in front of her own mother Ginny slipped her hand up behind Harry's neck and got a hold of him by that 'monster' on his head and wrapped her other arm around his shoulders. The only thing that was missing were fireworks, though there were no shortage of those coming from the orchard as Ron broke out in a hollering fit.

They were broken up, however when Hera started whistling and called out, "Get a room!"

"They most certainly will not!!" Molly exclaimed, her cheeks beet red. She would have to acknowledge that her daughter would grow up some day and she was pleased that Ginny had fallen in love with someone that she considered a member of the family. But there would be nothing further than a kiss in her house. She would have a good long talking to with Ginny when her father got home. Though Molly had a sneaking suspicion that Arthur would behave as he had when Ginny needed her first brassiere and just stop talking for a week. Molly sighed and walked back into the house to finish making lunch. Though as she did she wiped a tear from her cheek. Her little girl was growing up so fast.

As Ginny left to pick her broom up Harry continued to stand there, a stupid little goofy smile on his face as he swayed from side to side. Was it his imagination or did he hear cheering in the back of his mind? No not cheering. Screaming. Ron had lit into his little sister again. This time it was about snogging in front of their mother. Though he was too engrossed in the memory of the kiss to realize that Ron had not said anything bad about Ginny snogging with Harry.

****

The morning of September the first, The Weasley's had spent breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron talking and laughing loudly. Harry had caused quite a stir with his visit and spent the better part of the meal signing copies of the Quibbler and Daily Prophet articles some of the younger witches had saved from years previous. Though when the Twins arrived to see their younger siblings off their mother had chosen that moment to berate them for their stunt back at the Burrow, bringing breakfast in the entire inn to a screeching halt.

"You know," Ginny had started, licking her porage off of her spoon. "It really wasn't that bad. I mean, compared to their other material that Bogey mace or whatever was pretty tame." Hera had laughed when she watched the two young men mirror the other's discomfort. It almost reminded her of her own mother and how she used to get after her biological sons for their antics in school. Of course, dropping cherry bombs in toilets and releasing stink bombs in the ventilation shafts was much more of a hazard in Hera's opinion than a swamp in the middle of a school. At least they had not put Alligators into their trick. She suddenly wondered how she would explain to a parent that their child had been eaten by an alligator while walking to class.

Arthur pulled Molly aside and talked her down out of her fury. ("You can talk to them later, Molly dear. Let them see Ron and Ginny off.") The woman may have been only a little over five feet tall but when she opened her mouth she shouted head and shoulders above the crowd. Fred and George took advantage of the distraction and came loping over to where Hera was eating a bit of bacon with Ginny, her Prefect badge not deterring them one bit. Hera recognized the look in their eyes. They may not have been malicious but they were definitely up to no good. Hera must have looked like the perfect sucker because they both started pitching something called Skiving Snack boxes. "You must be Hera," they seemed to speak in unison as well, making their voices echo. "Since you're a friend of little Gin-Gin, we present to you a sample of our famous Skiving Snack boxes." Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head as the two moved in for what they thought was an easy sell. "If you ever get bored in class - or just want to goof," now they were completing each other's sentences; "you can try the Fever Fudge - or Feinting Fancy." Hera arched an eyebrow. What kind of flavors were Fever Fudge and Feinting Fancy?

Hermione was scowling at the twins and adjusted the Head Girl badge on her robes as though to impress them. Ron chuckled beside her, earning him a scathing look. "It's no use, Hermione," he laughed, his mouth full of porage. "If Percy was never able to stop them, you aren't going to have much luck either." Hermione had stuck her nose in the air at that, though Ron still continued to laugh. She said nothing but punched him in the arm before turning her back and folding her arms over her chest. "Oh! So you think you can take on Fred and George?" Ron laughed even harder. "You'll drive yourself barmy! If Umbridge couldn't control them, then you wouldn't be able to either." Ron reasoned, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Besides, you look rather beautiful when you haven't pulled your hair out." This last part he whispered, making it difficult for Hermione to scowl at him.

Hermione blushed, turning to look at Ron in the corner of her eye. Her scowl turned into a smile. "That's sweet of you. Now eat your breakfast, it's almost time to go."

"Yes ma'am." Hermione punched Ron in the arm again.

Harry was finely able to pull himself away from the thinning crowd and wolfed down his breakfast. He shifted in his chair when he felt something poke him in the thigh. Digging in his pockets Harry pulled out the Head Boy badge that had come with his list this year. He still was not used to the idea of being Head Boy. He had never been a Prefect, which is almost a requirement. Harry sighed and pinned the badge to his robes front. Maybe McGonagall had made a mistake and it was supposed to go to Ron. But he knew that that was not the case. This was just another way for McGonagall to keep him at Hogwarts to complete his schooling. Harry smiled, she did have a point. What use would he be if he wasn't even properly schooled in everything he would need to survive? But did the Headmistress really have to make him Head Boy?

The twins noticed none of this. "Just eat one end - and the fever will get you out of class. When your out of sight - eat this end," They showed Hera what looked like two-tone candies pointing to one end, then the other. "and you can spend the rest of the class doing what ever you want." Hera took the chocolate looking it over. It smelled just like fudge and it took all Hera had not to pop the whole thing into her mouth. "Their wildly popular at Hogwarts. Just owl this order form and we will have them to you straight away." Hera looked over the extensive supply list wondering where the heck these guys were when she was in high school. These two could have been millionaires many times over if they sold these to muggle kids.

By the time the two had pitched all they had it was almost ten-thirty. "Let us know what you like." They waved as they Apparated out of the Leaky Cauldron and back to their store. Hera folded up the order form and stuffed it into her robe pocket just as Molly came over to collect them and herded them out of the inn with a wave of her arms. They all piled back into the station wagon Arthur had procured for this trip, and with a turn of the key and a jolt from the transmission they were off.

****

Hera took a deep breath, watching as Hermione and Ron both disappeared into thin air as they ran onto Platform nine and three quarters preparing to board the train to Hogwarts. It was a little odd to watch a large group of tourists come out of nowhere just as Ron and Hermione reached the wall. Clever but like everything else it was still a little weird. "Alright, deary. It's easy, nothing to it." Mrs. Weasley encouraged, patting Hera on the shoulder drawing a nervous smile from the young Goyle. Mrs. Weasley tried not to cry as she watched Hera get up a running start with her basket and disappear in the crowd of tourists. She felt like she was sending another child off to school remembering when she had seen Ginny off on her first year.

Harry and Ginny were last through; their hands tightly clasped together as they gave Molly a parting hug. They disappeared without a trace as they went through the porthole leaving the Weasley parents on the platforms between nine and ten.

****

Everyone quickly made it aboard the train crowding into a room near the front and closing the door with a shove. Hera had her face plastered to the window her eyes scanning the station. "Wow - This is amazing!" She laughed heaving her trunk up on the top shelf beside the others then plopping down beside Harry and Ginny as they watched the other students make their way to their spots through the window.

"You'd think they never saw a blond before," Hera commented eying everyone that stared at her through the door, quirking her brow. Hermione cleared her throat bringing Hera's attention to her.

"You might want to know what happened last year," Hermione said leaning forward and motioning Hera to do the same. "It had a lot to do with a rather nasty little prat named Draco."

Ginny got up before Hermione started, needing to get to the front of the train to meet with the other Prefects. Of course she couldn't leave without placing a kiss on Harry's lips. Ron followed her with his eyes dividing his dirty looks between his sister and Harry. ("Ahem.") "Oh, right," Harry said snapping back to the present; though not without Hera ruffling his already messy hair. "Gaaa! Hera hands of my hair. Do you want to hear this or not," he asked shaking his head when Hera swept her right hand, and leaned back.

"Please begin..." she stated dramatically.

"Oy...Anyway; it all started at the beginning of last year..." Hera listened rapt as Hermione told her of everything that had happened the year before. Harry and Ron interjecting every so often to add details or their view. The story seemed incredible even if this was about Witches and Wizards. Apparently this Draco Malfoy had gone the way of his father. He had tried to kill one of the other students with a cursed necklace then used a vanishing closet to spirit the rest of his contingent into the school. Apparently it was the only way to bypass the wards that protected the gates.

The whole thing had come to a climax near the end of the year with a battle between these Death Eaters and the students. The crescendo of which was the death of the then headmaster; Albus Dumbledore. The killer was none other than the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Severus Snape.

All through the story Hera could not get the name Death Eater out of her head. She vaguely remembered the people who had taken her away call her parents that name. It had meant next to nothing to her for most of her life but now it gave her the chills. Death Eaters were servants of Voldemort. Now that name she remembered. His face had haunted her dreams for years after he had nearly killed her. Her then foster parents were not so lucky. She had only escaped with temporary blindness - they had died. If she tried hard enough, she could almost hear their screams.

Hera shook herself out of her memories suppressing the shiver that would have turned into a full case of the shakes. Just in time too; Hermione was coming to the end of her story. Hera schooled her face looking as though she had hung on every word.

"A lot of parents either transferred their children to other Wizarding schools or took them out entirely," Hermione continued with a conspiratorial tone, "I had to beg my parents to let me return. They almost pulled me out completely," Hermione whined sighing dramatically, "Anyway don't be surprised if you get strange looks from the other students. Slytherin will probably want you in their house but you don't seem like the sort." Hermione left it at that as the train began to slow, signaling that they were getting close to their destination. It had grown dark outside, the land scape mountainous and richly green with forests.

"The train will be arriving at Hogsmead Station in five minutes. Please stay seated until the train comes to a full stop," chimed a soft voice throughout the train, signaling they were near their destination. "Please leave your trunks inside the train as they will be taken to your dorms for you."

"Oh! We had better change into our robes. Just put them on over your uniform," Hermione advised pointing to the skirt, vest and blouse Hera was wearing. "And I would recommend not leaving the house dorm without the robe - you look much too sassy for my taste in that uniform," Hermione warned; rolling her eyes as Hera gave her an evil grin. "Why do I bother?"


Leaving the trunks for the house elves to handle Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny led Hera off the train pointedly not paying attention to the stares and whispers as they walked to the carriages that would take them to the castle. But Hermione pointed off to were the youngest were gathering on a wooden dock. "That's where the first years go Hera. We'll see you in the Great Hall."

Hera nodded watching the shabby looking horseless carriages trundling off toward the school. She made her way down to the shore of the dark lake where the first years were all boarding small wooden boats. "Four to a boat," bellowed a huge hairy man standing at the prow of the largest vessel. He was taller than any man Hera had ever seen and was covered in thick, bristly hair that stuck out this way and that. He looked at her slightly confused for a moment; then he seemed to remember himself and he waved her over. "You can ride in this one, lass. Don't think those smaller ones would hold you." Hera nodded stepping slowly into the wooden boat. She held on tightly to the sides as it rocked slightly and lowered herself down as they took off over the eerily placid waters. It looked as though they were sailing over a bottomless chasm; the water was so peaceful. "This view is a lot better," said the large man as he swept a hand the size of a turkey platter toward the other shore. There rising up out of the darkness was a castle Hera had only thought could exist in fairy tales. There were huge walls made of stone blocks, spinnerets climbing into the sky and the windows were each burning with torch light. In Hera's opinion, it was gorgeous.

Then the view was blocked by a stone aqueduct as they passed under it, and under the foundation of the castle. Hera, along with the big man had to stoop down to keep from bumping their heads. With a jolt the boats came to a stop on the steps of a large stone stair case that led to an enormous wooden door. "Alright, follow me up the steps. Watch yerselves now, the stones are slippery," he said as he opened the door and walked through it. They stepped into a grand entrance hall, lanterns set in golden sconces on stone walls casting everything in a warm glow. The ceiling was so high that she could have fit a three story building into it and still would have had several feet of room on top. Almost immediately, they were shuffled into a side chamber. "Now, you all wait here. I've got to announce you," and with that he disappeared. Hera suddenly felt uncomfortable as she looked down at many of the children around her. Most were fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the next in their nervousness. Others were establishing their dominance out right, making sure the other children knew who was 'boss'. ("Stick with us and you will go places. My dad works with the Minister of Magic.") Hera shook her head, she remembered this from her high school days. 'Never thought I would be back in that Lion's Den...' She thought to herself.

The door opened again and in stepped a woman Hera could only describe as green. "Hello there, young witches and wizards. Oh, are you a first year, too?" The question was directed at Hera who only nodded not trusting herself to speak. "Oh, very good." The woman seemed to recover from some sort of shock and went on. "Now then, when you are led into the great hall you will be sorted into your houses. The houses are Hufflepuff," she seemed to beam at this name. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." The last house name seemed to discomfort her a bit. "Following the rules will earn you house points. Any rule breaking and they will be taken away. At the end of the year the house with the most points gets the House Cup. Gryffindor has won this for the last four years, however I would wager that there are some good Hufflepuffs in this group who could win it back." This seemed to be rather amusing to her because she laughed.

"Anyway, form a line please." She waited until her request was carried out, then opened the door and led them across the hall and to a large set of double doors. Hera could hear the buzz of hundreds of students behind this. They all sounded excited about the new school year. The portly green woman opened the doors and led them through. The students inside had quieted somewhat though there were still whispers from the tables. ("What is she doing here?" "Isn't she a little old to be a first year?" "Look at her hair! She looks like...him.") Hera shook her head. She had endured twelve years of such whispers and rumors in Muggle school, she was not about to let this lot get to her.

Then the line abruptly stopped, Hera nearly bowling over the kid in front of her. She stifled an explicative behind pursed lips as she righted herself. She stood up straight looking around cautiously. She almost gasped when she saw the size of the hall. This room too was made of stone. Even the floor was carved from beautiful granite. Great arches rose from the walls to the ceiling but instead of a ceiling of stone, there was sky. Over all of them, and just above her head hung scores of candles. All were lit to illuminate the hall though it was almost not needed with the full September moon casting everything in a golden glow. Hermione had told her it was all bewitched and would not let her get away without reading Hogwarts: A History at least twice. Hera had nearly smashed Hermione over the head with the book, at least twice.

Her eyes shifted to the front, looking over the adults sitting at a long table draped over with a white cloth. Obviously these were the teachers; interesting bunch of characters. On the left end of the table almost taking up the entire side was a man of extreme girth. He wore a bright green robe that somehow made him look like a huge watermelon. He was busy having a rather animated and one-sided conversation with what Hera realized with shock; was a Centaur. This... person was quite tall making the Watermelon professor have to crane his neck. And from the way some of the girls were making calf eyes at him, he was quite popular.

On the other side of the podium that seemed to cut the table in half was the portly green professor who had led them in. Though her robes only served to make her look like she was covered in over cooked spinach. She was sipping a glass of amber colored liquid while talking a severe woman to her right. This woman sat at the very center of the table and although she looked as though she could have chewed tin cans was smiling and nodding as the plump, leafy professor spoke. This must have been the Professor McGonagall that Hermione had told her about. Though over the summer it seemed her hair had turned from raven black to an almost steely gray. Though with the events of the previous year Hera was surprised that Harry's hair had not turned gray. Both wore similar colored robes, though McGonagall seemed to be someone who would not let her hair get away from her as the head of Hufflepuff house had.

There were several empty seats which she assumed at least one belonged to the huge man holding the parchment at the front. He seemed to be waiting on someone. As he stood there a tiny man who looked to Hera like the love child of a Munchkin from 'The Wizard of Oz' and Groucho Marx carried a stool and what looked like an old, beat up wizard's hat to the front of the line. He sat the stool on the ground and placed the hat on top and walked up to the staff table heaving himself into his seat and drinking from a tall goblet to refresh himself. The entire hall went still and Hera tilted her head slightly as the hat began to quiver. Then a tear at the base of the brim opened up and the hat, to her surprise, began to sing:

"In times of old, when I was new,
And Hogwarts stones set,
there lived four wizards few,
who's power could not be met.

United by a common dream,
they had desire burning,
to build a school fresh and clean,
to teach those who were yearning.

But strife and fear took their toll,
on those wizards of renown.
And one left, leaving a hole,
where three now stood, heads down.

But how then did these friends,
of four dwindle down to three?
Just listen to these next lines
and I will enlighten thee.

The bravest and the boldest,
daring Gryffindor took to him,
Wit and cunning greatest,
sly Ravenclaw did win.

Hardest working and tenacious,
sweet Hufflepuff did take,
the purest and the gravest,
haughty Slytherin did make.

For years too few these four,
taught those who desired,
to make something more,
of themselves, rekindling the fire.

But now as devisions deepen,
and mistrust fills this hall,
I feel an explanation must be given,
for my warnings to one and all.

Do not let fear or hate cloud,
your judgment of truest friends.
For you will need all those around,
if you are to live to make amends.

The war will be decided soon,
by students in this hall,
good or evil will die by the moon,
the tenth after this year is gone.

So keep your friends close to you,
in these times of strife,
remember lessons taught to you,
by those you see tonight.

But for now, we celebrate,
those who will learn with you all,
so put me on, and I'll deliberate,
where all of you belong!"


"I think someone slipped me a Mickey..." Hera said quietly, the shock still on her face as everyone clapped as the hat finished it's song. The hat stopped moving all together leaving Hera to wonder if she had indeed heard it sing in the first place.

"Adam, Kimberly!" Hera squeaked when the first name was read watching as a young blond haired girl skittered forward and sat on the stool. The hat was placed on her head; it seemed to think hard then a loud, "Hufflepuff!" sounded through the hall.

A table of students wearing yellow and purple scarves (a fashonista's worst nightmare) burst into applause as little Kimberly trotted to her seat. She seemed quite happy about being in Hufflepuff. "My mum and dad were in Hufflepuff, too!" She said excitedly. Hera listened to this wondering what house Hermione's parents were in. She never did say anything about her parents.

"Ybarra, Susan!"
"Ravenclaw!"

A sea of blue and bronze clapped and cheered. Each student at the Ravenclaw table had a look of cunning wit about them. It almost reminded her of when she was younger and her older brothers would come up with one of their more outlandish schemes to make money. Though none of her four older brothers ever had an organized enough mind to see these schemes through for more than a couple of days.

"Thatcher, Michael!"
"Slytherin!"

Hera watched this table closely. The whole group looked, at least to Hera like an unsavory bunch. They each had a smug look on their faces that reminded Hera of a couple of boys from her high school. These kids had the look of rich, pampered little brats. Hermione had said that Draco came from this house and if she read these kids right; they were the wrong bunch to get mixed up with.

"Richards, Ziggy!"
"Gryffindor!"

Hera smirked as little Ziggy ran full tilt toward the Gryffindor table, his shoes making a squeaking sound as he skid to a stop. The phrase 'the bravest and the boldest' certainly applied. Who but only the boldest would wear scarlet and gold together? And Ron, good god that scarf made his hair look like it was on fire! In fact the whole table seemed to be ablaze as Ziggy got a standing ovation from a couple of students who were obviously friends of his.

"Jacobs, Lilith!"
Slytherin!"

The girl who sauntered like a little princess over to the Slytherin table was one of those students asserting herself out in the receiving hall. She cordially introduced herself to several of the boys who promptly tried to kiss the top of her hand. Little Lilith pulled her hand a way shaking her finger in a playful manner as she sat down with a group of girls. Everything the Slytherins did gave Hera the creeps.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity; "Malfoy, Hera!" The entire place went silent and Hera could feel all eyes were on her. She sighed stepping forward and looked down at the stool. She gave a pleading look to the big man but he only winked from behind bushy brows. Hera's shoulders sank in defeat. Slowly, she lowered herself into the stool rolling her eyes as she did so. 'I feel like an idiot...' She thought as the hat was placed on her head, the brim covering her eyes.

"Ahhh...another Malfoy." A soft voice spoke. Hera had the distinct feeling that it was only speaking to her. "Hmmm... this is strange, highly irregular. You are little old, but not the oldest I have sorted." Hera sighed, quirking an eyebrow at the hat. She hoped with all her might that she would not be put into Slytherin. "Well...I would normally place a Malfoy in Slytherin automatically," Hera's shoulders sank as she groaned inwardly.

'Anything but that.' She thought. 'Anything but that. I couldn't stomach it.'

The hat seemed to pause, thinking. "No...you are not like Slytherin. Not underhanded enough. Not cunning enough, no. Not like your kin. You strive to please everyone, you wish to prove yourself. Yes, yes...I know what to do with you..." The hat drug the suspense out for as far as it would go then, "Gryffindor!" The proclamation nearly knocked her off the stool with relief.

The entire Gryffindor table erupted in delayed cheers while the Slytherin table shared confused stares with each other while eying Hera. "Not like my kin," Hera asked quietly, smiling as she was rewarded with a chuckle.

"Trust me young lady. Coming from me, that is a compliment." And the hat was lifted from her head. Hera smiled and levered herself out of the stool, rubbing her knees before she quickly joined the four she had traveled with.

"You're right, Hermione. I think that is going to stick with me till my dyin' day," Hera said as she threaded her legs into the bench seats sitting down between Harry and Ron. She immediately noticed the questing stares the other Gryffindors cast her way.

"Believe me, Hera, this will stay with me as well. The day a Malfoy is sorted into house Gryffindor!" Hermione shook her bushy head, "Anyway, Hera this is Neville Longbottom, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan." Hermione introduced, smiling when each person exchanged cordial greetings with Hera. She had to reach over Harry to exchange a tight hand clasp with Parvati, giving poor Harry a face full of her robe.

He tried not to look flustered but had to start thinking about Quidditch to keep from acknowledging what was pressing against his cheek. Malfoy or not Hera was either unknowingly or with full knowledge trying to make Harry burst into flames. Hermione rolled her eyes mumbling something about Hera and oversexed Americans.

Everyone was finishing with their greetings when their attention was arrested by Headmistress McGonagall's wand tapping against the podium. She was the most severe of those seated at the instructors table and seemed to hold a high amount of respect among the student body. She was old though how old Hera could not ascertain. Though despite her age her eyes were as keen as a hawk's and Hera was sure, her punishments as swift. "Welcome students both new and old to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she began reminding Hera of the stereotypical boarding school instructor she saw in old movies. "As you first-years have no doubt been told there have been many changes since last year. Security has been heightened for your safety and no one is to leave the dormitories without accompaniment, by either a Professor or a Prefect. All suspicious activity is to be reported to me immediately. Also, the Forbidden Forest is still off limits to all students, as is Hogsmeade to all who are under third year. And the list of banned items are in Mr. Filch's office. I do believe it has reached it's longest yet." Then as Hera watched the Headmistress' eyes softened as she looked over the student body, her eyes resting on Harry for a moment before continuing, "Now! As Dumbledore would say: Tuck in!" she commanded with a flourish raising her arms out to her sides as the tables blossomed into a smörgåsbord of every manner of food and drink fit for a child of royalty.

"Aww...now this is more like it," Hera exclaimed rubbing her hands together as she reached out and took a lamb chop, a good portion of boiled potatoes, roast beef, fried chicken and everything she could get her hands on without reaching over another student's plate. All four tables fell into loud conversation punctuated by laughter and requests to pass one dish or another. Hera watched as some of the more advanced students floated dishes from one end of the table to another. She raised her fork and started stealing little pieces here and there when they came close enough to her. Ron and Harry seemed to join in on stalking the floating dishes, spearing anything that came close enough to their forks and levitating those dishes that were out of their reach. Hermione and Ginny seemed deep in conversation with Parvati who was showing them pictures of the vacation her family had taken to Pakistan.

Neville was showing off a new pair of shoes his Gran had bought him on his birthday during the summer and Ron, much to Harry's consternation, was relating the fiasco that his twin brothers had caused with their Porta-Bogey Mace. Of course, he left out the part about Ginny snogging Harry to get him to stop flailing around. He instead inserted something about his mum using the Incarsirus Charm on him which seemed to leave the story lacking somewhat. Soon, however the conversation died down as everyone ate their fill, many already sitting back and patting their full bellies in satisfaction. Then, just as fast as the food appeared it disappeared leaving the plates sparkling clean. Then dessert sprang up and those who had proclaimed themselves full now reached in to grab spoonfuls of everything from puddings, chocolate cake, mounds of ice cream of every flavor, and Chocolate Frogs. A pile of what looked like jelly beans appeared in front of Hera making her eyes go wide with happiness as a grin spread itself from ear to ear. "Spot on," Ron exclaimed as he took a hand full of the beans and started popping them into his mouth. Hera followed suit, grabbing what she thought would be a lemon flavored bean.

Harry secretly watched as she popped the bean into her mouth Hermione flinching as the expression on Hera's face went from ecstatic to disgusted in an instant as she spit out what was left. Hera dove for a glass of pumpkin juice to wash the taste out of her mouth. Ron and Harry both burst into laughter at the same time as Hera tried to overpower the flavor of the bean with the juice, but it was no use. "ERUGH! What kind of sadistic person makes those," Hera asked, her face slightly green as she tried not to swallow, the taste clinging to her mouth with unnatural tenacity.

"Their Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans," Ron said between giggles popping a few more into his mouth as though to goad her. "What flavor did you get," he asked, laughing even harder when Hera tried to glare at him nearly making him topple over onto the floor.

"I think it was a cross between earwax and the back side of a Rhino...I am not sure nor do I want to be. Is there anything here that's safe," she asked as the flavor started to fade, relieving her of the sudden nausea that threatened to ruin her fun. From a young age Hera had always had a huge sweet tooth, though this place just might cure her of that.

"Sure...but not all the beans are bad." Harry reassured Hera though she didn't take comfort. "Oh, alright. There's some Chocolate gateau...look, Spotted Dick!" Hera dropped her fork, her eyes wide.

"Spotted What," she asked, not sure she had heard correctly. Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry pointed out the desert in question. He had forgotten that 'dick' meant something different entirely in America. Hermione had tried to drill this into his head so that he did not end up sending Hera running in a panic from the Weasley house.


With full bellies and renewed bonds each house rose from their tables, the Prefects each directing them to their house dormitories. The castle seemed to be a maze in itself. First they climbed stairs, then went down one hall and even behind a tapestry. "First-years, pay attention closely, the stairs tend to change direction rather frequently. You must know where you are going at all times," Ginny said as she led the entire house Gryffindor, new students in front. The first-years watched as what seemed like an infinite number of large stone stair cases shifted to and fro in seemingly endless succession above and below them. "Gryffindor house dormitories are on the seventh floor and you must remember the password if you are to get in."

As they reached what looked like a solid wall, Ginny was addressed by a painting of a rather fat lady in a lavishly ruffled pink dress that made her look like a woman living in the Old South during the 1800's, an image which struck Hera as quite amusing. "Password please..." the painting requested in deep falsetto, fanning herself with her pink lacy fan as she waited in dignified patience.

"Contego Parvulus," Ginny recited, smiling as the picture swung open to reveal the archway into the Gryffindor common room. The room was decked out in scarlet and orange; almost like ketchup and marmalade mixed together and thrown all over the place. The chairs were all overstuffed, over sized and seemed to swallow its occupant until only their feet were visible. The tables, two on either side of the huge fireplace, were already filled with students busy talking about their summers and passing around vacation pictures. There were a few students who were taking advantage of the floor in front of the fire place and started playing Exploding Snap cards by the light of the flames.

"This is the common room, where you will spend most of your time out of class either studying or socializing. Also, no one is to leave the dormitories after-dark for your own safety. Now, to the left is the stair case up to the Boy's dormitory and to the right is the Girl's. Just a word of warning; there is a charm put onto the staircase to the Girl's dorm to prevent any boys from entering. All I will say is that it is not pleasant." Ginny smiled, sending an almost invisible apology toward where she saw Harry with her brother talking in the corner.

Vigilant Ronald apparently didn't miss this and Harry could swear the hair on Ron's head got redder and nearly stood on end. The two were apparently in the middle of a game of Wizard's chess and Ron was looking for any excuse to not look at the board. He was loosing quite horrendously and the fact that his little sister was making calf eyes at Harry did not help matters. But he did not say a word. Ginny had a small talk with Ron back home before they had left. She had threatened him with a permanent Bat-Bogey Hex if he so much as said a word about her and Harry. Ron had wilted under the threat. If Ginny could cow Draco Malfoy with that hex, then he had better watch himself.

Splitting the group up into their respective genders, Ginny led the girls up the stairs to their dorms. "Your names are written on the beds so as to cut down on confusion," she continued, letting all the girls become familiar with were their things had been taken. The dorms themselves were not all that bad. There were five beds to a room, which was large and circular with windows looking out onto the cold night. There were candles on each of the nightstands beside the beds, which were at closer inspection quite comfortable. Though when she looked around much to Hera's dismay she had been settled with her fellow first-year girls, making for an uncomfortable silence as each got dressed for bed. Hera would have been fine among girls closer to her own age. There was just something weird about being bunked with girls who were only eleven or twelve years old and expected to co-exist for the entire year.

Hera sighed, changing out of her clothing without taking off her robe. She only took this off when she had her shirt and boxers on and slipped under the covers. The bed was quite soft with the red drapes serving as privacy screens while they slept. She turned over until she was looking out the window, watching as the full moon slowly rose into the sky, bathing everything in a golden light. Then, the lights were extinguished and the room was plunged into darkness save for the moonlight flooding in the windows.