Castle of Pride

Part 2 of 2

Andromeda's heart beat rapidly as she waited for her nerves to calm. She took a deep breath and slid farther down the blue-striped wall. Slowly, she began to process all the ideas that had just been planted into her daughter's head--all of the opinions and lifestyles that Andromeda had to fervently avoid in her own home growing up.

She'd expected her sister to instill a few pro-Slytherin views, seeing as Nymphadora was to be sorted the following day, but not quite to this overwhelming extent.

'Bloody spineless fool,' Andromeda scolded herself mentally. 'Why would you let her meet your daughter? You hate Bella--you haven't seen her in years--and yet you just let her manipulate your child!'

She took a deep breath and stood up, knowing her daughter was going to be looking for her at any moment. Moments later, Nymphadora wandered out of the kitchen.

"What did she tell you?" Andromeda asked immediately, with a false sense of urgency.

She knew what Bella had said, but she desperately needed to know Nymphadora's personal views.

"All sorts of things that you've never talked about," Nymphadora responded with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Like what?"

Nymphadora closed her eyes, trying to remember all the details, and started counting off points of discussion on her fingers. "She talked a lot about being a Black, and how it's a great honor, and about being powerful. She said I should get into Slytherin, and that I had a filthy father, or something, but I was still a Black. She said I had lots of potential, and that my special powers could get me far." Nymphadora opened her eyes and peered into her mother's offended hazel ones.

Andromeda bristled at how casually her daughter had recalled Bella's 'filthy father' comment, but didn't say anything except, "Here, come into the sitting room and sit down. And, if you don't mind, could you bring the plate of cookies?"

Nymphadora smiled and fetched the platter before returning to the sitting room and taking a seat on an ancient velvet red couch.

"So," Andromeda began, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie, "what did you think?"

"She was really scary!" Nymphadora said immediately. "She wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. Most of your friends are so cheerful, but she was so...dark. Half of the stuff she said didn't make sense. But the other half, well, it almost made me want to get into Slytherin! She was really convincing, and she liked it when I transformed for her."

"What do you mean?" Andromeda asked curiously but quietly. "Have you come to a decision? Do you know what house you want to get into?"

Nymphadora started fidgeting a little. "No...I don't know what I really want. I'm just going to see what house the Sorting Hat chooses for me. Do you think that would be okay? Maybe I'll make up my mind by tomorrow...do a lot of people know for sure where they want to go?"

Andromeda gave her a small, understanding smile. "You don't need to want to get into a certain house. But...well, just to let you know, a lot of Slytherins are very...scary, I suppose. Trust me, I would know. I didn't really fit in there, but I was pressured to because of my family. I'm not saying that you're the same as me, but I was never fully comfortable in my house. You may or may not fit in at Slytherin."

Nymphadora shrugged casually despite her intensifying anxiousness. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

There was a short pause before Andromeda spoke. "Want to go back into the kitchen and scramble up some dinner before dad gets home?"

Nymphadora smiled appreciatively, and they walked into the kitchen in contemplative silence.

- + - + - + - + -

The next morning, Nymphadora's head was still swimming with contradicting views. On one hand, her aunt was terrifyingly convincing; she'd portrayed Slytherin as the only acceptable house for powerful people. On the other hand, her mother had implied that Nymphadora should make the choice for herself, and not for anyone else.

A half hour prior to eleven, Nymphadora and her mother portkeyed to a secluded area a few blocks away from King's Cross station. Her heart raced as she noticed all the oddly-dressed eleven-year-olds scuttling about barriers nine and ten. This was it.

Once smoothly getting past the barrier, Nymphadora grabbed her trolley and started to run up to the scarlet train. She felt an arm gently grab her shoulder, and when she turned around, she realized she'd forgot to say goodbye to her mother.

"Sorry, Mum," Nymphadora mumbled as Andromeda gathered her in a tight hug.

Over her mother's shoulder, Nymphadora saw a group of three or four tall boys looking at her and whispering to each other. She gave them a puzzled look and said a few final words to her mother before boarding the Hogwarts Express with a gnawing sense of excitement and anxiousness.

Nymphadora timorously investigated many compartments on the train, but passed by each one, apologizing to students who looked like they didn't care for her company. In one of the last compartments, at the end of the train, she poked her head in and saw the same boys who seemed like they'd been whispering about her on the platform. She was about to apologize and leave when one of the boys interrupted her.

"Hey, do you want to sit with us?" he asked. He sounded surprisingly pleasant. He had mousy light brown hair and dark brown eyes, and an amiable voice. Nymphadora gave him a small smile and sat down on the only empty seat, next to a taller boy with black hair that didn't look quite as friendly.

The boy that had offered her a seat stuck out his hand as the train began to stir. "Wotcher - My name's Sebastian, Sebastian Avery. This here is my older brother, Zachariah."

He nodded inconspicuously to the bored-looking boy next to him, who was a lot bigger than him. "He's a sixth year," Sebastian went on. "I'm only a first year though; he's supposed to be showing me the ropes and introducing me to people I should know. Who are you?"

He asked it with a hint of sarcasm that blatantly implied he did, in fact, know who she was.

"I'm Dora Tonks," Nymphadora said, a little taken aback at how conversational the boy was. "Why should you get to know me?"

A smirk flitted across Sebastian's face. He cast a glance at his brother, who rolled his eyes, looked at Nymphadora, and sighed reluctantly.

"Well, actually he does know who you are," Zachariah said, sounding very uninterested, in contrast to Sebastian, who was looking at Nymphadora with mild fascination. "You're quite well known among us purebloods. Small groups of family friends, see. Your mother, Andromeda Black, was a perfect Black daughter, one of three impeccable candidates for marriage; every pureblood male between sixteen and forty wanted to marry her. But then, she ran off with a Mudblood and ruined her life. Her mum, Walburga Black, was pissed off as hell. She burned her off the Black family tree. You're the offspring of that little escapade, I suppose. Oh, and also, there's a rumor going around about you, that you might be...erm...special...but that's just nonsense."

Nymphadora sat there, mouth gaping in surprise, dumbstruck as to how coarsely the pureblood families viewed her loving, happy family.

"In fact," Zachariah said wearily, giving Nymphadora a once-over, "Sebastian, we shouldn't even be talking to her. Her mum's a blood-traitor and her dad's a Mudblood. We don't associate with lowlifes like her."

He'd said it as though she wasn't sitting directly across from him, listening intently.

"Well, then," Nymphadora interjected, greatly offended, "I'll just see myself to the door."

Nymphadora got up briskly and closed the compartment door behind her, wobbling unsteadily on the moving train. She looked up and down the hallway and knocked on the nearest door - the one directly across from her - and was extremely relieved to see two awkwardly silent children who couldn't have been older than twelve. She smiled meekly at them.

"Could I...perhaps...sit in here?"

A redheaded girl gave Nymphadora a small smile and nodded. Nymphadora took the seat next to her.

"My name's Dora," she initiated. "What are yours?"

"I'm Helen," the girl said, before nodding to the boy. "This is Derek."

"Are you first years?" Nymphadora ventured.

They both nodded silently. Nymphadora fidgeted awkwardly in the silence and redirected her attention out the window. She imagined different scenarios of the Sorting Ceremony, ranging from an unexpected Hufflepuff announcement to an upsetting situation involving a dramatic proclamation that she was, in fact, not magical at all.

After a moment of clearing her nerve-wracking thoughts, Nymphadora reminded herself that she was a Metamorphmagus, that both her parents were magical, and that it would be nearly impossible for her to not be magical. 'Get a grip!' she scolded herself, spastically tapping her fingers on the windowsill.

Her thoughts raced in the absence of conversation. When no one initiated smalltalk, she resorted to satiating her growing boredom and insanity by reading her textbooks. Although it wasn't the most appealing idea, it certainly increased her excitement for her upcoming classes.

Even this strategy only cured Nymphadora's boredom for an hour or so; she was tremendously relieved when she heard a lady pushing a cart through the aisle. The lady gently knocked on their compartment door, calling out, "Sweets of all sorts! Do you darlins' want a little snack?"

Nymphadora bought quite a load of sweets, including Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, which sparked shy but substantial conversation between the three jumpy students.

Once they were able to make small talk, the time passed a bit quicker. After a couple of hours had gone by, it was mid-afternoon, so Helen mentioned that they out to change into their Hogwarts robes.

Taking turns in a small adjacent changing room, the three of them donned plain black robes, which were soon to be emblemized with a crest symbolizing one of the houses. Just this thought sent nervous shivers up Nymphadora's spine, which settled after spending some time watching the picturesque outdoor countryside fade into darkness.

After what felt like an eternity, the Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. After a short boat trip with three of her fellow first years, Nymphadora was ushered with the others into a grandly decorated hallway, complete with marble floors, moving statues, and floating chandeliers. She took note of many astonished faces, but subconsciously wondered why a few other faces were looking rather unimpressed.

"FIRS' YEARS--COME THIS WAY!"

An immense man, the same one who had lead them onto the boats and across the lake, bellowed, "Yer gonna go into the Great Hall - i's where you'll have dinner 'n be Sorted. The old'r kids are already in there. Yer name'll be called, so when it is, jus' sit on the stool 'n I'll put the Hat on yer head. It'll call out what house yer in, so jus' go and sit down at the table that claps. Oh, 'n you guys got nothing to worry about. Com'on now, we gotta go--"

The throng of new students, still shivering from the chilling September wind, followed the giant into the Great Hall. It was considerably more majestic than he'd implied; Nymphadora marveled at an enchanted dome ceiling and four long tables crowded with relaxed, babbling teenagers. Floating white candles shone brightly above each table, and a regal high table was situated opposite the front doors, at which the staff conversed politely about their summer holidays.

The entire room hastily quieted down and stared expectantly at the small, ratty wizard hat that Nymphadora wouldn't have noticed if it weren't the subject of everyone else's attention. Somehow, it appeared to have opened its mouth, despite the fact it didn't have one. It then started to sing, in an almost mockingly upbeat tone.

It continued for a good three minutes, chanting limericks and pleasant descriptions about each house. It projected Slytherins as cunning and powerful, exactly as Aunt Bella had said.

After the song, a tall, elegant woman in long sage robes approached the line of fidgeting first years and unrolled a long piece of parchment. Without introducing herself, she simply read the name at the top.

"Avery, Sebastian!"

Nymphadora blinked, surprised that she'd actually recognized the first victim's name. She watched as the familiar boy strutted past the much less-confident other first years. As soon as the hat was placed on his head, the hat shrieked, "SLYTHERIN!"

Nymphadora didn't feel any sort of surprise. She hadn't even blinked an eye at the Sorting Hat's abrupt decision; she was too busy thinking about how she would react if sorted into certain houses. If it were Slytherin, she would be as confident and Black-like as possible, as she walked over to her table and threw a defiant look in Sebastian's direction. Then of course, she would owl Bellatrix as soon as possible. If she happened to get into any other house, she would avoid eye contact with anyone at the Slytherin table. It was a very reliable plan, so Nymphadora took a few deep breaths and watched as a table decorated gaudily in green and silver decorations clapped viciously for Sebastian's announcement.

She watched, unsurprised, as he swaggered happily towards the Slytherin table, where he was slapped on the back and high-fived many times by his brother and the other students.

The tall woman continued to call out names, all of which were unfamiliar to Nymphadora. Meanwhile, she wondered; if she were sorted into Slytherin, would she be welcome after the embarrassing encounter with Sebastian and Zachariah? He'd said they didn't associate with her, but Aunt Bella had assured her that she would fit in. On the other hand, she trusted her mother's judgment moreso than her aunt's; she'd said that Nymphadora might not do well in Slytherin.

Nymphadora desperately tried to process and clarify her thoughts. She was a Black, despite being slightly dishonored due to her parents. Then again, she couldn't help but feel permanently intimidated by the house; glancing over at the Slytherin table, she found nothing but smirks and proud, cocky smiles that were dripping with cruelty and malice.

Nymphadora shook her head slightly to fall out of her bemused trance.

"Rowen, Derek!" the woman called. The shy blond boy that Nymphadora had spent her whole afternoon with stumbled past the remaining students and clumsily sat down on the stool. He appeared to be concentrating very hard. After about half a minute, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Nymphadora clapped and smiled encouragingly along with the Hufflepuff table. She wasn't particularly surprised about the Sorting Hat's decision; she'd known just by his shy attitude and clumsy mannerisms that Derek probably wouldn't do well in Slytherin.

A few more names were called; Nymphadora's palms began to sweat and her heartbeat became more rapid. Soon, the woman started calling surnames beginning with 't'- only Priscilla Tabith and George Thompson were called before her.

"Tonks, Nymphadora!"

Much like Derek, Nymphadora stumbled out of line and almost tripped over her own feet. 'Maybe I'll be in Hufflepuff like Derek,' she thought, as her face flushed and a few people laughed. Nymphadora slowly and carefully walked up to the stool and sat down.

'Hmm...Nymphadora Tonks...a Black, I see. That's quite clear; you have some incredibly pure blood...but a Muggle-born father? I see... this is very interesting.' A rather condescending voice started to evaluate Nymphadora in her head.

'Yes, my Mum was a Black,' she thought instantly. 'I'm a Black, right? Don't I belong in Slytherin? Don't most Blacks belong in Slytherin?'

The voice inside her head chuckled. 'You've had a few biased opinions thrown at you, haven't you, Nymphadora? Clearly someone wants you to be in Slytherin. I can see why, I suppose. You would be a stunning Slytherin - you're very clever, and a Metamorphmagus! What a skill! But what do you want, my dear?'

'I don't know!' Nymphadora thought frantically.

'Having second thoughts? I can't quite tell what you want, but I don't think Slytherin is where you belong. You have too pure of a heart; you're tremendously brave, despite your common apprehension and clumsiness. It looks as though some last-minute convincing occurred, which confused you into thinking you belonged there. If you're really not sure what you want, then I'm going to have to decide--"GRYFFINDOR!"'

Nymphadora's eyes opened to a seemingly bored audience. Clearly, they couldn't sense the raw emotion that was boiling inside of her. A sense of excitement, joy, confusion, and failure collided in her churning stomach that was guaranteed to dispel any food she tried to consume.

She stumbled over to the table that was decorated with gold and red. Students clapped rather unenthusiastically. Despite her plan, Nymphadora couldn't help but catch the unmistakably foul glare of Sebastian Avery from across the room. She wondered why he'd pretended to be so friendly on the train, when clearly now he was being himself.

More students were sorted, but Nymphadora's thoughts were too overwhelming to comprehend anything until another familiar name was called.

"Walker, Helen!"

She looked up, and, sure enough, the small girl with red hair that was in her compartment was walking very slowly past the five remaining students. Helen stayed under the hat for a long time, but the hat eventually screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Nymphadora couldn't help but smile a little bit when she came and sat next to her.

"Hi," Helen whispered fervently.

"Hi," Nymphadora whispered back.

"Are you glad you're in Gryffindor?" she asked in a hushed voice as the headmaster started to make a speech.

"I don't suppose I know," Nymphadora admitted. "Are you?"

Helen smiled widely and nodded.

Dinner passed uneventfully. Most of the students left at different intervals throughout the meal, but after she'd finished eating, Nymphadora realized she didn't know where to go. Thankfully, an older student gathered the small group of first years and guided them to the Common Room.

Nymphadora walked past the common room, glancing around it quickly but knowing she would have plenty of time to enjoy it later, and climbed the stairs marked 'Girls' Dormitories.'

Her first true feelings of delight and excitement erupted as soon as she walked into the dormitory. As she took in the beautiful red and gold décor the portraits hanging on the walls smiled warmly at her.

Nymphadora kneeled next to her trunk and retrieved some parchment, a new bottle of ink, and a quill. She sat down cross-legged on her freshly made bed and started to write.

Dear Mum,

All is well here at Hogwarts. I was sorted into Gryffindor! I suppose I'm pleased...I know I'm sort of relieved I wasn't sorted into Slytherin. It would've been neat to write to Aunt Bella and tell her that I made it into Slytherin... but I think what the Sorting Hat told me was right - "some last minute convincing occurred, which made me think I belong there." I'm pretty sure I won't be writing Aunt Bella anytime soon.

I know what you mean when you say Hogwarts is the Castle of Pride. As soon as I walked into the Entrance Hall, I was blown away by how grand everything was. Here, I feel so proud to be a witch - like it's where I truly belong. I've not quite identified with the Gryffindors yet (even though I think I may make a friend), but just being at Hogwarts makes me feel so magical and happy. I love it here.

I'm missing you already! Write back soon!

Love,

Dora