Chapter 15- The New Gryffindor
The force of the abrupt landing caused their knees to give away, and they all fell to the ground in a messy pile in the Entrance Hall. As soon as they landed, some teachers came rushing up to them with towels and warming spells. Before long, Harry was almost completely dry, though his clothes were still moist. They were then ushered directly into the Great Hall, without so much as time to change into their robes.
"Your belongings will be fetched and you will find them in your dormitories in the morning. Now, I don't suspect the feast will last long; but in spite of what has happened, let us all give a warm welcome to our new students, and try to make them feel more comfortable!" cried Nearly Headless Nick from above their heads.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all ventured down the length of the table to the end near the professors' table in hopes of getting a better view of the Sorting Ceremony.
"I hope the new Gryffindors are up to scratch," Ron said, as they sat down. "I would hate for all of our points to be worthless, because some little ones keep messing everything up."
"Ron!" Hermione scorned. "I'm sure they'll be fine."
"I'm just saying- I wouldn't want to lose the House Cup after keeping hold of it for so long, nor the Quidditch Cup for that matter."
"I really think that all of these awards just fuel the tension between the houses; we should be rid of them," Hermione remarked.
Ron gaped at her. "Rid of them?! Then what's the point of doing anything extra, or even being in the house you're in? Besides, you can't just get rid of the Quidditch Cup; that would be the same as getting rid of Quidditch! It's preposterous!"
"I'm just saying that Dumbledore should take heed to the Sorting Hat's warnings, because if he doesn't, I have a bad feeling that the tension between the houses will only grow and become more violent this year." She glanced over at the Slytherin table as she said this. Malfoy saw them looking and held up a picture of a Dark Mark he had drawn, and pointed from it to Hermione, laughing.
"Forget about it, Hermione," Harry soothed, glaring at Malfoy. "He's full of empty threats."
The immense doors at the entrance to the Great Hall swung open, and a small procession entered the room, led by Dumbledore and the other teachers who had yet to sit at the table, and followed by a tiny group of students. The new students shuffled in nervously, fully aware they were under everyone's gaze, and stopped up at the front of the hall near the Sorting Hat. Dumbledore didn't even bother sitting down; he strode right up to his seat and addressed the silent hall.
"The first years are about to be sorted into their houses. In light of the events of this evening, I think it wise to be thankful for everyone's presence, rather than for the food. Before we begin celebration of any kind, however, there is something I must tell you all. On the train this evening, a young girl by the name of Amanda Siuniack was found dead under the Dark Mark."
There were horrified gasps from all over the room, and Harry turned and looked at Malfoy again, who caught his eye and smiled smugly.
"It will come to no surprise to most," he continued, causing a silence to fall upon the room once more. "That she was Muggle-born. We all know Lord Voldemort has now returned, and the Ministry has indeed distributed safety pamphlets. However, a little booklet with a handful of defensive spells is not all that we need. We need bravery, courage, friendship, and most of all…unity. Lord Voldemort's powers are strong, and his influence is even greater. In order to resist, you must remain true to yourself, and each other. Reach out to others more, unite as one and form a bond, or else perish in the dark."
His voice rang out and echoed off the stone walls and ceiling.
"Let us honor Amanda in this feast: an innocent ripped from amongst us. And let us all keep in mind: no matter whom we are, if you cut us open, we bleed the same red blood, no matter our lineage. Do not forget that."
He raised his glass and everyone followed suit, toasting the memory of someone nobody even knew. Though Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy's glass remained planted firmly on the table.
The first years were more fidgety than any group who had come before them, and Harry thought they had a right to be. Even he, who was frankly becoming almost used to tragedies, was appalled by the murder. Of course, he also thought that leaving out the part of the impersonating Death Eaters was a questionable move on Dumbledore's part. Sure, the students shouldn't feel like they were in constant danger from their professors like he, and he was certain Ron and Hermione, felt now; however, he didn't think Dumbledore should be withholding any information from them either. He sipped at his drink in thought, unconsciously toning out the Sorting Ceremony. His hands clapped along with everyone else's as someone clambered over to the Hufflepuff table, but he didn't even hear the name. The image of the limp arm kept replaying over and over again in his mind, and every time he thought about the dead girl, he thought about how she was Muggle-born. This brought him to glance at Hermione every few seconds, and occasionally over at Malfoy's lot.
Another cheer erupted again, and Harry smacked his hands together a couple of times unenthusiastically. Then the clamor died down again, and his thoughts wandered back to what had happened just an hour earlier. He tried to guess who the Death Eaters had been, and began wondering how Hermione guessed they were after him so quickly, even though she didn't know about the Prophecy yet. Not yet…
"Evans, Mark!"
And they wouldn't know until… Hold on… Harry thought, jerking his neck towards the group of students. A tiny boy with short auburn hair shuffled forward. Harry felt his heart suddenly racing as he watched the boy come forward and turn to sit on the stool. It couldn't be….Surely it wasn't?
But it was. There on the stool, the Sorting Hat shoved onto his head so that it covered his eyes, was Harry's neighbor: Mark Evans.
Harry found that he was holding his breath, and fought to exhale. The hat muttered something quietly so that nobody could hear, and Harry kept his eyes fixed on Mark, transfixed.
The Sorting Hat moved around on his head once more, muttered something else, and then announced, "Gryffindor!"
A loud cheer erupted from all around Harry, but he couldn't even manage to lift his hands. Mark took off the hat and wandered over to their table, smiling unsurely.
Harry finally managed to find his voice. "Mark?" he said.
Mark, Hermione, and Ron all turned their heads in his direction at once. Mark took a step back when he saw Harry, and almost tripped. Then he began smiling as his green eyes lit up and he replied, "Harry? Is that really you?"
He came up and Harry made room for him next to him. They both began laughing happily at such a wonderful surprise; it felt like they were being re-united after a long time apart, even though it had only been about a month.
"How are you doing Mark?" he asked. Ron and Hermione continued to watch them curiously.
"I'm fine- I'm great now, actually. Have you gotten a load of this place? Does this mean you're a wizard too?"
"Yeah- I've been here for five years already. I had no idea that you had magic in you…I…"
"Neither did I, until I got my letter. My parents weren't too happy about it though." He frowned a deep frown that seemed too old and heavy for such a youthful face to wear. "I don't know if they'll let me come back home again. But hey," he continued, forcing a smile back onto his face again. "You're here! That's great! I was worried I wouldn't fit in here since I didn't know anybody."
"Don't worry about making friends; we're in the same house now, so we'll see a lot of each other and maybe even have some of the same friends."
"Eh-hem," Ron cleared his throat from across the table.
"Oh- sorry. Mark, these are my two good friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."
"Nice to meet you," Mark said.
"Mark lives near Privet Drive. We've hung out a few times over the summer."
"Oh," Hermione said, as if to say, `that explains a little.' "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Yeah, good to meet you," Ron added.
"So, do you actually learn real magic here, and stuff?" Mark asked, looking up at the enchanted ceiling in awe.
"Yeah…we really do," Ron said, casting Harry a `what's wrong with this guy' glance.
Harry returned a look telling Ron to drop it.
"I can't believe this wand," Mark continued, pulling it out of his pocket. "Unicorn hair, 11 inches, holly, they told me. Will I learn any spells soon?"
"Yep. You start classes right away, and after a little bit of theory you jump into practical stuff," Harry told him.
Mark's eyes were sparkling so much that Harry thought if all the lights were turned off, they'd glow in the dark.
"Hey, wait until you see Quidditch," Harry said.
"What's Quidditch?"
"It's the wizard sport, played on brooms. I'll explain it to you later; maybe after you learn how to fly, Ron and I can show you a few tricks of the trade."
"Me? Learn how to fly?! Unbelievable!"
Harry couldn't help smiling at the boy's sincerity.
As soon as the Sorting ceremony wrapped up ("Zuton, Christine" became a new Gryffindor), food magically appeared on the gold plates in front of them. Seamus got a hungry look in his eye and began loading up his plate with a bit of everything, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione all refused to eat.
Ron watched Seamus stuff his face longingly. "If only I didn't feel so sickened…"
"You're not the one who saw the girl's arm," Harry said as the image replayed in his mind again. "I saw it when McGonagall and Snape carried her off the train."
Mark, who had been eyeing all of the dishes with amazement, looked down at his lap. "Professor McGonagall told us before she brought us in. I met that girl, on the train. She was pretty nice."
They spent the rest of the meal in silence, submerged so deep in their own thoughts that they managed to not hurl all over the other fools' dinners.
When they stood to head up to their warm awaiting beds, Dumbledore approached Harry.
"We'll leave our little chat for another time," he said. His eyes traveled over Mark and he smiled lightly. "I think that for now, a reunion is in order."
Harry watched him go. So he was aware they knew each other? How did he know that? Maybe Selbbit or another Order member who was on guard saw him and Mark talking one day and informed Dumbledore? Or perhaps Dumbledore was just figuring since they lived near one another and they were now already talking? Harry shrugged internally and pushed the matter aside, following Ron, Hermione, and Mark upstairs.
Upon reaching the Common Room, all of the students trickled up to their dormitories, pleasantly full and in high spirits; all except Harry, Ron, Hermione and Mark. Ron and Hermione also went up to their beds in order to refresh their spirits in a night's rest, but Harry and Mark remained in the Common Room. They each took up an armchair by the fire; the same chairs Harry had sat in so many times before. In fact, the room was exactly the same as he remembered. He took in a deep breath, savoring every detail in one of his favorite places in the world.
"Who killed that girl, Harry?" Mark asked suddenly. "And why did they do it? She seemed alright to me."
Harry heaved a deep sigh. He struggled to find a good place to start. Then he remembered what Hagrid had told him when he had first come to Hogwarts. "You see, not all wizards are good. Just like there are criminals in the Muggle world-"
"Muggle?"
"Non-wizards. Just like there are muggle criminals, there are wizard criminals. You know what bigotry is, don't you?"
"Yeah. It's a form of intolerance where people are closed-minded towards other groups and think they're superior."
"Exactly. In the wizarding world, there's one particular group of dark wizards who are the ultimate bigots. They're called Death Eaters, and they hate all `dirty blood' wizards- non-purebloods."
"What are purebloods?"
"It means both of your parents were wizards, and you're family line is all wizards."
"Well, that certainly isn't me," Mark said. He frowned. "My parents aren't wizards. They've never been angrier than when they found out I was a wizard. They kicked me out of our home when I decided to come here."
Harry observed this little, troubled boy. Over the summer, Mark had mentioned that he didn't get along very well with his parents when Harry had questioned why he was always wandering around outside.
Mark made a sour smile. "If only the leather belt had never been invented, eh?"
Harry looked away sadly. He couldn't figure out why Mark's parents would be that mad about him being a wizard, unless one or both of them were squibs. That would probably explain it…
"So, you were saying?" Mark said, signaling for Harry to continue.
"There's this one wizard who went as bad as they get. His name is Voldemort. He's murdered countless people, including my parents."
Mark gaped at him.
"See this scar?" Harry said, holding up his bangs to expose his signature scar on his forehead. "I told you I got it in a car accident. The truth is Voldemort gave it to me. When I was a baby, he murdered my parents and then he tried to kill me. But my mother's love for me saved me, and his curse deflected on himself."
"He's gone then?" Mark asked, voice trembling a little.
"No. He's so strong that it only weakened him. Since I've been at Hogwarts, I've already met him 5 times, and I've managed to get away so far."
"So then, he's still coming after you? Why?"
Harry opened his mouth but then hesitated. He tried to think of a way to put it without mentioning the Prophecy, but he couldn't find one. So, shocking himself, he decided to tell this little boy he barely even knew, yet felt somehow connected to. "Promise you won't tell anyone this… my friends don't know yet. I'm afraid they'll worry too much."
Mark nodded his head eagerly. "I promise."
Harry took a deep breath, already feeling a little weight lifted off his shoulders by telling someone- anyone- about the Prophecy.
"There was a prophecy made shortly before my birth that predicted the coming of the only person who had the power to kill him. That's why he tried to kill me as a baby, because the Prophecy refers to me. And now either I kill him, or it's all over; he'll conquer and reign over not only wizards, but the entire world."
Mark blew out his cheeks. "How do you deal with it?"
"Oh, believe me; it's harder than hell to. But I have my friends to help me out, and so far lady luck has been on my side. Last year, one of his Death Eaters- the same group who killed that girl tonight- murdered my godfather, Sirius Black. Even if it hadn't been personal before, it is now. All I can tell you is that I plan on working as hard as I can this year to improve, and just pray that when the fateful time comes, I can pull it off once more."
They sat in silence for some time, both unsure of what to say. Then Harry stood and said he was off to bed, and Mark rose to follow him up the stairs. Halfway up, Mark stopped at his door. He bid Harry goodnight and went to enter, but Harry remembered something and held him up for a second.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I just wanted you to know that I'm amazed at how brave you are."
"What-?" Mark said, but Harry was already continuing up the stairs.
A/N: It's not my best, but it's not too bad either. Anything in particular you liked or disliked? Please tell me what's on your mind. Thanks to everyone who has and who continues to review! Keep `em coming, and I'll be more motivated to churn out the story much quicker!
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