Disclaimer: Everything is owned by JK. Rowling. Except Crystal. And Scooter. Crystal owns herself and Scooter. Though I own Crystal-the-Character. Anyway, its disclaimed. Don't sue unless you want a nickel colored black and a Slytherin pencil. That's all I've got.
Chapter Title: Prologue; Enter Many
Chapter Summary: The first day at Hogwarts for first years Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew, and Original Character Crystal Howling. The train, the sorting, and the common rooms.
Chapter Written: January 10, 2004
~*~
Everything old is new again
Everything under the sun
All of our fears come true again
Recycle reuse
Resent and refuse
Our parent's ideals and view
--Barenaked Ladies
~*~
Severus Snape and Sirius Black were seated together on the train, happily discussing that summer's World Cup. (Now tuck those jaws in, this is a serious moment.) "Did you see Cleaton Race?!" Sirius was exclaiming, while leaping suddenly onto his chair. "He was like, whoosh!" Sirius proceeded to hop to the seat opposite him, "And then, Bam!" Sirius swung his wand like a bat, illustrating the picture. "It was SO awesome Sevs; my dad HAS to get us tickets again next year!" He was panting slightly as he lowered himself back to his seat, long, chocolate bangs falling over his deep sapphire eyes.
Severus laughed as his silvery eyes, warm despite their steely hue, watched his friend's enthusiastic movements. Sevs grabbed eagerly into the pile of Bertie Bott's, chucking a handful into his mouth and ignoring the odd taste mixture. "No kidding, Sirius. Poland winning by loads, it was great. I hope England goes next year, though."
"Just wait till we play for England! They'll be unstoppable! Our names 'll be flashing on the board; Beaters S. Black and S. Snape, the unbeatable beating team!" Sirius stuffed a chocolate frog in his mouth. "'Course, we got to stay really good now, so the scouts notice just how awesome we are."
In truth, Severus was just a mediocre player. While good on a broomstick, he had little strength, with such a thin figure. Sirius, however, was amazing. His swing was powerful for a mere eleven year-old, and he was both fast and nimble. No one had ever taken the time to notice that Sevs wasn't so great, not with Sirius beating everything that came within the field, and some things-and people-out of it.
Of course, it made no difference to friends. "Yea, maybe we can make the team this year, even though it doesn't happen a lot."
Sirius frowned, then shook his head. "Nope, Andromeda says the only team without beaters is Hufflepuff, and I'm not bein' in that sissy house."
Sevs laughed, softly, as if afraid of disturbing the humor. "You'll be a Slytherin, for sure. You're whole family is, 'cept Andry; and Ravenclaw ain't too shabby either."
"What about you, mate? You're bound for Slytherin if you follow your Da, or Ravenclaw if you take after your Mum. I bet we'll be Slytherins though." Sirius frowned, suddenly. "Y'know what Andry said the other day?"
"What?"
"She wanted t'know why I wanted to be in Slytherin so bad. Said there was plenty of other good houses out there. As if anyone wouldn't want t'be a Slytherin, 'specially when you're a Black." He paused, then looked at Sevs, "Or a Snape. Or a Malfoy. Or a LeStrange. Or an Avery. Or..."
But he found himself suddenly cut off by the opening of the door. A short, scrawny kid stood in the entranceway to the compartment, a tangle of messy black locks falling over his face. There were glasses covering his hazel eyes, and a gorgeous golden owl perched on his shoulder. "Sorry,"the boy said, pushing up his glasses, "I'll go find someplace else."
However, as the boy shut the door and left, Sirius Black turned to Severus Snape, his eyes now surprisingly solemn for the formerly energetic youth. "Sevs, promise me somethin'."
"Okay," he agreed readily.
"Promise me we'll be best mates forever."
Severus grinned, dark eyes honest and sincere. "Best mates forever, you can count on it."
~*~
(While it seems all too interesting to sit on the conversation more, the author has decided she would rather follow the rumpled looking boy, who left us only a few paragraphs ago.)
James Potter moved on to the next compartment, still looking for a place at least moderately uninhabited. "This," he declared, "is the last time I'm late for the train. There's no," he peaked inside a door, "bloody,"stuck his head into another, "compartments." Aha! At last, there were only two boys in here, and one was asleep. The other sat silently, staring out the window with a remarkably hopeful look on his face, like a child taking their first steps out the door.
"Hey,"James said softly, and the boy turned to look at him. "D'you mind if I sit in here, there's practically nowhere left."
The boy hesitated, cocking his head to the side while assessing James broodily with grey-blue eyes. At last, he nodded his head slowly, sandy-brown hair flopping even in its short cut.
"Thanks," Potter said readily, stepping inside the compartment and throwing himself down onto the seat across from the boy. "I'm James, James Potter." He offered a friendly hand, giving him a half-grin.
"Remus Lupin,"the boy responded in an almost whispery voice, like one used far too inoften. He shook James hand agreeably, offering a small smile. "You're a first year?"
"Yea,"James commented, "I've heard so many stories though, from my Mum and Da--I hope it lives up to the tales."
Remus smiled shyly. "I haven't heard much. My Mum, the witching side of the family, isn't around too often. Plus, she's not a big one for stories."
A nod was the answer. "So, what house was she in?"
It was the common first question, and one answered readily. "Ravenclaw; most of the family's been Ravenclaw, with the occasional black sheep in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. No Gryffindors though. What about yours?"
"They were both Gryffindors. Everybody in my family is in Gryffindor. It's been like that for ages."
"Oh," Remus said softly, looking downcast. They both knew it was pretty common for students to be sorted into their parent's house, especially when there was a line so specific as to be completely Gryffindors. It was a slightly depressing thought, to know how unlikely it was that the first person you met probably wouldn't be a part of your Hogwarts House.
There was a sudden snore, and James turned his attention to the sleeping boy. He was plump, though not overly so, with thin, mouse brown hair. The robes he wore were shabby, but serviceable, and his snores were quite loud. "Who's he?" James asked curiously, after returning his gaze to Remus.
"Peter. He's a first year too, fell asleep two minutes after lugging his stuff on the train." James nodded, and the pair fell silent, interrupted only be Peter's rumbling snores.
After a while, Lupin picked up the book that had been sitting beside him, and was soon completely caught up in it. James twiddled his thumbs anxiously, before stretching out across his seat and revealing his wand. Some moments later, Remus felt a gentle breath of air brush swiftly by his cheek.
"Oops,"James commented, looking sheepish as he fell under Remus's cool look. "Sorry, but I was practicing."
"Practicing what?"
James suddenly seemed to be smothering a laugh, as if just realizing some object of great humor. Soon he burst into outrageously loud laughter, and he pointed to Remus's hair. Lupin's hand went hurriedly to his hair, staring in horror as the locked pulled before his eyes seemed to be a startling shade of red, littered with gold sparkles.
When the other boy turned to look at James, he found himself falling silent. The minutes ticked by, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, finally, a wide grin broke out on Remus's face. "How did you do that?!" He cried, eyes blazing with a formerly hidden energy.
James grinned brightly back. "Simple thing, really. I found it in this." He tossed a book across the aisle, and Remus read the title while his grin grew.
"The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed! This is so cool, where'd you get it?"
"Stole it from my da's library. He almost fainted when he found me in there. I never knew there was such great stuff in books, else I woulda gone sooner."
"Have you ever tried the spell on a large scale," Remus asked excitedly?!
"Well, this one time..."
Suffice to say, that compartment was no longer silent.
~*~
Lily Evans was incredibly nervous. You never would have guessed it, looking at her picturesquely confident outward appearance. She was dressed in a pair on long, comfortable jeans that fit her petite frame quite well. Her t-shirt was a simple one of navy blue, with sky blue vines on the sleeves, collar, and hem. A ponytail held her mass of dark red, curly hair, and accentuated the loveliness of her face. She bore a charming little smile, and there was a brush of freckles over her creamy skin. But it was her eyes that caught the eye. Large, almond shaped eyes that glittered with a brilliant emerald.
However, appearances are quite deceiving, for internally, Lily Evans was frightened out of her wits. Apart from Diagon Alley, she had a never been to anyplace magical. Now, she found herself surrounded by people eagerly shouting out the statistics of something called quidditch, or rambling on about how their house was going to win the cup, or the latest in magical hair care, or the new man recently put in Azkaban (What was Azkaban?), and the absurdity and sheer immenseness of it all was overwhelming her.
However, she had managed to find a compartment reasonably early, and it wasn't long until the door open once again and two girls bounded in.
The first had her chocolate brown hair pulled back in a ponytail; dark brown eyes alight with laughter. She was dressed in simple muggle jeans, and a loose, dark green t-shirt with a large monkey on it. She was grinning, a wide grin that seemed to want to encompass her entire face, including her dusting of dark freckles. She was also, quite tall. Tall enough to appear to be at least a third year.
Next to her, the other girl was dwarfed, not even being five feet tall. She had long, blonde hair that fell down her shoulders in unruly curls, and blue eyes that sparkled with buoyant enigma. Her own garb was a pair of jean shorts, frayed at the edges, and a white tank top with a light blue, quarter-length sleeved shirt over it. She wore large hoops in her ears, and seemed to have an almost aristocratic presence. When her eyes turned to meet Lily's, Lily found herself smiling back shyly, the casualty with which these girls talked marking them as friends.
However, the blonde quickly tossed out a hand in greeting, directing her flashy smile at Lily. "Hey, I'm Dorcas Meadows, and this bucket of bubbles is Crystal Howling."
"I'm the bucket of bubbles; you're the one who put all the sugar in the tea! It's all your fault!" Crystal cried, shoving Dorcas playfully.
Dorcas stuck her tongue out at Crystal, causing a surprised giggle to emerge from Lily's lips. "I'm Lily Evans." She told them, and Mixie laughed and directed her attention to Lily.
"Nice ta meet ya, Lily. Mind if we sit in here? This place'll be packed soon, and we need to stay with cool people. In other words, get as far away from Slytherins as possible!" She suddenly looked incredibly suspicious as she sized Lily up. "You're not a Slytherin, are you?"
"I'm a first year," Lily explained calmly, silently hoping they wouldn't desert her for being, well, probably younger than them.
Crystal's eyes lit up, "Really? Awesome! I am too, though Dorcas here is a second year. We know each other from these boring tea parties are mothers love."
"Ravenclaw," Dorcas exclaimed, before Lily could even ask the question. Lily grinned, and nodded happily, but kept her silence.
"So…" Crystal drawled, lounging in a seat. "Got any family, Lily?"
"I have this awful sister, and a terrible Pomeranian. His name's Scooter…" (Lol, that ones for you, my maniacal friend. And maniacal dog.)
~*~
After a long period of time, the train finally drew to a stop. From there, a multitude of either incredibly fearful or incredibly cheerful first-years trotted into a pack, following the shouts a giant man. He was calling, "Firs years o'er here, o'er here all ye midgets!" So the students, being the midgets that they were, trailed after him obediently.
The sky above them was pitch black, as if someone had thrown a blanket across the stars. Not even the moon, which would have been half-full, glinted from beneath the cover of darkness. The wind, too, was perfectly still. It seemed to be awaiting something, like the herd before the attack of the predator. It was eerie, to know that stillness lay even in the Forbidden Forest, as happened only once in millennia. Most of them didn't notice, chattering softly as they were, but a few of the more perceptive children did.
"Did you feel that?" James asked Remus and Peter curiously as they continued towards the lake.
"Feel what?" Peter voice was slightly squeaky, his beady eyes wide in his terrified state.
"That chill. Like, I dunno, like you just looked death in the eye-"
"Or moonlight washed over your face…" Remus continued.
"Like blood seeped over your hands," Sirius was saying somewhere.
"As if fire was liquid," Sevs continued.
Lily was saying saying, "I thought it was the loss of something great."
"Treachery. It felt like treachery." Crystal agreed.
Anyone else wouldn't have felt it. But these six, they were marked for something. Marked for something perhaps beyond their reach. Marked by one who did not yet exist. But marked, above all, by a fate of anguish. Their road would be difficult. Their road would be painful.
But for them, the road would not be lonely.
~*~
The first-years now filed slowly into the Great Hall, clumped like the anxious novices they were. A few didn't look it, and fewer still didn't act it. But they all were.
After taking their place on the platform of the hall, they all stood silently, a few twisting hands or hair, others biting nails or rolling wrappers in their pockets. One was messing up his hair, a nervous habit developed early on.
Professor McGonagall sophisticatedly approached the stool, her lips drawn in thin line. Now, all eyes turned to the battered hat that sat upon it, most of them merely expectant. Several moments passed, before the hat finally opened its mouth and began to sing, its tone uncannily forlorn.
There comes a day
When courage calls
When men rise up
When hope may fall
This time will need
The union's blood
To stand and face
He who will come
You must unite
Students of four
Bring forth your strength
Open the doors
You have your deeds
You have your traits
Follow your house
Destined by fates
Perhaps you walk
The just and loyal
The in Hufflepuff
Must you soon toil
Maybe you stroll
Through books and smarts
Then Ravenclaw
Is where you start
Come if you sneak
Through ambitious cunning
To Slytherin
You will find yourself turning
But if you stalk
Through bravery beyond all
Then in Gryffindor
You will surely fall
But beware, all ye
Who come this year
For you will live
To darkness fear
The silence lasted for far too many moments, ticking heavy with anticipation, surprise, and horror. Dumbledore sat silently in his great chair, the twinkle lost from his eyes and a look of deep depression and regret in them. He paused, looking around the faces of these new, now forewarned, children. For they were still children, but he knew in his heart that their innocence would be short lived. As the hat had warned, times were coming of great evil. His eyes landed longest on the six who had felt a chill that evening, and he paused.
These would be the ones to face it. These would be their leaders.
With that, he smiled, and then coughed delicately. "Minerva, if you could please resume the sorting." He spoke quietly, just loud enough for her to hear him, but it broke her out of the unnatural state of gloom she had been in.
"Of course, Dumbledore," she replied, and then stepped forward. "Adkins, Jeremy," she read coolly off.
A nervous looking boy crept forward. It wasn't long until the hat declared him "Hufflepuff!" with quite a shout.
"Black, Sirius."
"Go get 'em, mate," Severus whispered. Sirius gave him a reckless grin, and sauntered calmly to the hat. A moment later, it fell over his eyes.
My, my, my, a voice spoke, what have we here? A Black, aye? You've got the genes, that's for sure. The ambition, too. The cunning, I have no doubt. But, dear boy, you don't seem to have the treachery. No, you're far too loyal for that. Almost dog-like, I would say. Admittedly, a rather ferocious beast, but loyal all the same. Not just though, too hot-tempered for that. Not the right amount of wisdom. Of course, I can already tell you're quite intelligent, but I don't think Ravenclaw's for you, either. Bravery, though. You're quite brave; almost foolishly so. Incredibly difficult to place, Mr. Black. But I think I have it.
"Gryffindor!"
The entire hall fell silent. A Black had never, ever, been in Gryffindor. You had the occasional Andromeda, and the once-in-a-century Hufflepuff. But Gryffindor?! It was preposterous.
Sirius stood, rather shakily, an expression of great confusion on his face. He bit his lip, looking down as the hall remained silent and he walked unsteadily towards the Gryffindor table. He had not the least idea why he was going in that direction, only that the hat had commanded. And the hat was never wrong. Bull, Sirius thought silently. It's wrong this time, and I'm not going to let it manipulate me like that. I'm going to hate these Gryffindor Goodies. I swear it.
"DeSaber, Garcias," was next, and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Then, "Evans, Lily."
Lily hadn't quite figured out why no one had cheered for that Black fellow. Maybe the Gryffindors weren't very nice. She wasn't all too sure. She had heard so much about them, though… And then the hat was covering her eyes, and she had no more time to think.
Hello Miss Evans. I've been expecting you. But you've come, and just on time. For it will soon be your time, Miss Evans. You'll be needing these traits. And what are they? Let's see; a brilliant mind, absolutely brilliant, you've got plenty of loyalty too, mixed with a touch of ambition. But yes, exactly what I was hoping for. Courage, Miss Evans. I congratulate you for it.
"Gryffindor!" The hat shouted for the second time. Cheers and clapping rang out from Gryffindor table, at least, from everyone but Sirius. She trotted to the table, beaming, and took a seat diagonal to Sirius's. He scowled at her, but Lily only offered a shy smile in return.
Of the following, three became Ravenclaws, and there were two for both Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Lily up hopefully when McGonagall read, "Howling, Crystal."
Crystal smiled as she ambled to the stool, hands in pockets and an air of easy confidence surrounding her. As the hat pulled over her eyes, she heard its words within her mind. Howling, is it? And bursting with talent, I see. You all have been quite the exciting year. I'll be listening for you, when the news rolls in to the office. But let's see… Not a Hufflepuff, that I can tell. Not exactly huge on justice, are we? Smart, too, but not studious. You're brave, quite brave. But also cunning. Sly. I have a feeling that you may even be treacherous, when you're loyalty hasn't been placed with those you love. You've got a cool heart, but a quick tongue. I believe, Miss Howling, that I know where your part is to be played.
"Slytherin!" The Slytherins applauded politely, but Crystal was shocked. Her? A Slytherin? But… She could never be so evil… Could she? Her steps were slow as she approached the table, a mask drawn over her expression. She appeared bored as she took her seat, and the expression held throughout the rest of the ceremony. But on the inside, she was befuddled. Oh, how very, very, confused.
Several people afterward, the name "Lupin, Remus," was read off. He went willingly to it, hiding the fact that he was frightened. Frightened that perhaps the hat would simply send him home, order that no werewolf was worthy of Hogwarts.
You have no need to worry, Mr. Lupin. Werewolves are quite accepted. Rowena Ravenclaw's son was one. You'd do well in that house, I believe. You have an incredible mind, and quite the capacity to learn. You'd do well, but it's not where you belong. Not with that strength, or that heart. Don't fret, Mr. Lupin, I know the perfect place.
"Gryffindor!" Remus was a bit surprised, but altogether relieved. He had hoped for Ravenclaw, even Hufflepuff. He had believed the evil in him would send him straight to Slytherin. But Gryffindor?! It was bloody fantastic!
He hardly had taken his seat, two places from Sirius, when McGonagall continued, "Potter, James."
Earlier, James had been confident. But a Black was in Gryffindor, and Howling, who he knew was a decent girl, had been put in Slytherin. Maybe the Sorting Hat was messing up. It certainly seemed like it.
You. You are the one for whom I have waited. For whom we have waited. And suddenly, the Sorting Hat was not one voice, but four; a mixture of bass and alto, light and dark, silver and gold. You know already where you belong, it boomed, and you will be there. But first, you must be told. You are the warrior. You are the leader. You are the lion. It will be your choices that change the future. Others will later be the sword, but you must be the one to forge it. Forge it well, lion. Forge it well.
The hat fell silent within his mind, and a moment later called a proud, "Gryffindor!" James strolled to the table where and took seat beside Remus, completely oblivious to the loud applause. Instead, he was mulling over his warning. Or perhaps it was guidance. Either way, he knew it was not what the hat normally said. No, this was different. But how? And why? Why him, to "forge" the "sword"? And what was the sword? The questions would not leave his mind, swirling and mixing and reforming till he was so lost that all features began to fade.
He didn't even hear Minerva call out, "Snape, Severus." Severus walked up to the hat slowly, still in shock from seeing his best mate sorted into the terrible Gryffindor. Wasn't Gryffindor, like… Good?
Yes, Mr. Snape, Gryffindors are often known for being 'good'. But not always; just as not all Slytherins are 'bad'. Perhaps you should think about the similarities sometime, it's rather illuminating. You could belong in either of these, I think. You could belong in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, also. But I think, Mr. Snape, that I will leave that choice to you. Where will you walk? Severus sat, his mind completely empty for several seconds, and then a single thought arose. "I want to be a Slytherin," he whispered, so softly that not a single person overheard. The hat seemed to sigh, but he could feel agreement. Very well then, Mr. Snape.
"Slytherin!"
~*~
Severus Snape and Crystal Howling were amongst the eleven first-years that entered Slytherin's common room. They glanced around, but neither seemed to really care for the stone walls covered in thick tapestries, or the elegant rugs underfoot or the collection of high-backed chairs and sofas arranged around the room. Indeed, neither seemed to be caring about anything at all.
But Severus was caring very much. Indeed, he was beginning to regret his decision to become a Slytherin. He had just abandoned his best friend in the whole world. He could have readily become a Gryffindor, and stayed completely comfortable with Sirius. Hell, he could've become a Ravenclaw and still been friends with him. But Slytherins and Gryffindors weren't friends. They certainly weren't best mates. Already, he had managed to begin splitting the promise from the train.
Crystal was also quite concerned. She was curled up on armchair near Snape's, studying her hands. They were Slytherin hands now. Because she was treacherous. The hat had said she was treacherous. She didn't believe it, not really. She had never been disloyal to her friends. At least, not the ones that were loyal to her, too. Only now, now she was going to be classified as a deceiving Slytherin. Wonderful. There went her life.
Both Severus and Crystal had fallen into depression within the next month.
~*~
In the Gryffindor common room, things were going much better. For most people, at least. James, Remus, and Peter were seated in one corner of the room, excitedly going over the details of the latest quidditch news. Sirius had nearly tuned them out, but it wasn't ling until their conversation began to disgust him.
Potter knew about quidditch, that he could tell. But Remus was going purely on statistics, and that little fat dude-didn't know his name-was clearly not educated in the highly specialized field of quidditch debate. It wasn't long after they began to discuss Poland that he groaned, causing their attention to turn to him. "Idiots, Race is clearly the best player on the team. A quidditch wannabe could see that."
There was a short pause, then James slowly began to grin. "You've got to be kidding me, Black. Hapsbugle is the most important. He's the fastest, has all the awesome tricks-"
"And has no strength whatsoever. If Romania had just ran one bludger into him, he would've toppled right off the broom."
"Are you serious?" James began, but Black cut him off.
"As a matter of fact, I am." There was a short pause, and then James began to laugh quite heartily.
"Alright," he finally managed to gasp out, "got me there. For the moment, I retreat. Expect me back in a few days." He smirked slyly, "after, me 'n Remus have a bit of fun."
"What are you going to do?" Sirius asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Turn the first-year girl's hair red with gold sparkles. We've been practicing."
"Oh!" Sirius was suddenly quite excited, and there was a real, true smile spreading on his face. "It's from The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed!, right?"
"You've read it?" James asked, eager to find someone else who loved pranking just as much as he did.
"'Course I have! C'mon, let me help!" Sirius paused, then added as a hesitant afterthought, "Please?"
"Sure," James said calmly. "They're over there; let's head out, men."
The three boys stood slowly, creeping carefully towards the group of four girls. Peter departed from them, acting as the diversion by settling next to them and beginning to explain in great detail about some random event. James, Sirius, and Remus were extremely careful as they halted. Each chose a target, aiming their wands expertly. James leaned closer, and whispered, "On my count."
There was a pause. "Three… Two… One… Go!" He whispered fiercely, and the three muttered the words of the charm at the exact same moment. James had doubled his, no might encompass two girls.
The golden sparkles were enough to send all of the boys in to amicable laughter, giving each other cheerful high-fives. They barely noticed when one girl, on whom the read hair seemed entirely natural, stepped up to them. She scowled, glaring at the trio. "Who are you?" Lily demanded.
"James Potter, at your service." He told her with a cheeky grin.
"Would you mind explaining this?" She tugged her ponytail, her scowl deepening.
"I think it looks charming," he told her, straight-faced and sincere.
She slapped him. "Like hell it does, James Potter. You've been forewarned; I like my revenge."
He watched the retreating back of a certain red-head, and suddenly found himself break into a huge, loony grin. I'm going to marry that girl.