True Confessions of a H.A.G.

Chapter Two: Gryffindor Is Like Saving a Cat From a Tree

1 September, 1996

Dear Diary,

As soon as I got home, I dumped all my books and stuff into my trunk. Well, it's not like I'll actually need it anytime soon. Hermione tried to badger me into reading the stupid books ahead of time, but I told her to bugger off. She said that she wasn't going to help me get rid of the glue and dye in my hair. She said I could just go to school looking like Draco Malfoy.

So here I am, sitting on the Hogwarts Express, looking like Draco Malfoy's younger sister. Hermione says that I look like Malfoy's brother, but I didn't listen to her for long after that. She and her friend Ron went off to the Prefects' car as soon as we got on the train, and I couldn't find Harry or Ginny anywhere.

I found an empty compartment, so I sat down here...

Yours,

Helen

The compartment door opened, and a group of boys came in. One, with sandy brown hair and inquisitive eyes, swung into the seat across from Helen. Helen slammed her diary shut. There was no way these boys would see what she had written, especially about Harry. Her face burned at the very thought.

"I'm Chris McAlester," he said, grinning at her. "And these two are my friends, Mark Evans and Josh Guilder. Mark knows Harry Potter."

"He's my neighbor," Mark informed Helen. He was a slight boy with dark hair and dark eyes. "I've known him since I was born!"

"You have not," Josh, a redhead with a pink complexion, said. He was probably the opposite of Mark: morose and quiet. "You thought Harry Potter was a Muggle criminal until you saw him on the platform just now."

"Yes, well, you haven't known me for more than half an hour," Mark shot back in retaliation. "How d'you know anything about Harry and me? We're best mates, actually. He saves me from his cousin."

"Sure," Chris said dubiously. "What's your name?" he asked Helen.

"I'm Helen," Helen said. "Helen Granger."

The boys' expressions immediately changed. "You're a girl?" Mark said incredulously. "We... we thought you were a bloke! Hang on..." The boys turned towards each other and began a whispered conference. After a few uneasy minutes, they turned. Their expressions were grim. "I'm afraid we can't be friends," Mark said. "You must understand, we have nothing against you personally. But we need to be able to reach each other... and since you're a girl, well, you're not easy to talk to..."

They edged out of the door, mumbling good-byes. Helen snorted derisively. Boys. They could never understand her beauty and charm. Not until they matured, anyway. She dug through her bookbag until she found her copy of Teen People. So what if it was Muggle? Hermione had absolutely refused to give her a Teen Witch Weekly. Something like 'dirty, lying rag' had been her excuse, apparently. Or maybe that had been about The Daily Prophet. No... Teen Witch Weekly was 'uneducational, airhead material'.

Posh Spice has the best dress in this picture, Helen thought vaguely as she flipped through the pages of concert pictures. But Baby Spice's got the best hair in this one...

"Helen! There you are!" Hermione said as the compartment door opened. Helen glared up at her sister. Wasn't she supposed to be mad at her? And here she was, interrupting her quality reading time. "We've been looking all over for you!" Hermione stared at Teen People. "Helen, why are you reading that rag? I told you, Hogwarts, A History would be much more suitable..."

Behind her, Ron rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Hermione," he said. "You're the only one who can read that waste of toilet paper without 'a', falling asleep, or 'b', going insane from the boredom."

Hermione glared at him. "Look, she's my sister, Ron, not yours."

"Well, we wouldn't want her to go insane like you, do we?" Helen tried to escape from the compartment as Hermione glared at Ron.

"I am not insane!" she said furiously. "Hag, get back here!"

Helen sighed and froze. "Why do you call her 'Hag'?" Ron asked curiously.

"Because of my initials," Helen said. "Helen Amanda Granger. Really witty," she added sarcastically, the barb aimed at Hermione, who blushed a little.

"Hey!" Ron said, his eyes lighting up as he thought of something. "You know, Hermione, if you and Harry got hitched, then you'd have his initials!" There was a stunned silence as even Ron looked mortified at the idea. "Er... not that you should marry Harry," Ron muttered, his face as red as a cherry. "But not that I'm against it," Ron added hurriedly. "But not that I support it, either!" he said. He turned purple with embarrassment. "But I won't stop being your friend." He cleared his throat. "But I don't like the idea much, I'll have you know..."

"What. Are. You. Getting. At?" Hermione gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Er..." Ron turned, if possible, more purple. "Yououtgowime?" he spluttered.

"What?" Hermione said, confused.

Ron cleared his throat. "Uh... do you... d'you want to go out with me?" he said.

Hermione became a matching shade of purple. "I-I-I..." she said. Helen, sniggering, snuck out of the compartment. She knew when she wasn't wanted... well, at least most of the time.

***

It turned out that Ginny had been looking for Hermione and Ron in the next car. "Have you seen Hermione or Ron?" she asked.

"Er... no," Helen lied smoothly. Best give her sister some snogging time... Helen cracked a very mischievous grin at the thought.

"Okay," Ginny said. "Do you want to sit with us? You know, Harry and a few other friends? Though I wonder where my brother and Hermione have got to... They said they would be back in half an hour if they didn't find you."

Helen nodded enthusiastically. Ginny smiled back. "Let's get your things, shall we?" she said.

"Er..." Helen said, this time a note of panic in her voice. "No... I'll be fine."

Ginny giggled. "Don't be silly, Helen," she said. "Why wouldn't you want your things?" She suddenly looked suspicious. "Fred and George... my brothers... they didn't give something to you on the platform, did they?"

"No..." Helen said.

"Well, then," Ginny said lightly. "Come on." And before Helen could stop her, she was well on her way down the corridor. Helen jogged along behind her, feeling helpless. Oh, she would feel so bad for Ginny. After all, Helen didn't want to see Hermione kissing, so why would Ginny want to see Ron kissing?

"Is this your compartment?" Ginny said, pointing to what appeared to be an empty compartment, at least from the angle they were looking at it. Helen almost sighed with relief. Her sister and Ron had gone somewhere else. She nodded. Ginny opened the door...

And froze in shock. Helen sighed. So maybe Hermione and Ron hadn't left. Helen chanced a peek inside the compartment, and was promptly scarred for life, like Harry, except in a mental way. Suddenly, Hermione opened her eyes and screamed. She and Ron sprung apart, hurriedly buttoning buttons and gasping. Ginny's jaw seemed as if her mouth had a weight inside, forcing the bottom of her face downwards. Helen groaned.

"Er... we... we were j-just... studying! Just studying!" Hermione said. For once in her life, she sounded dumb. Helen would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been so horrified. Hermione sent a pleading look at Ginny and Helen, as if urging them to keep quiet about what happened. Helen doubted that either she or Ginny would have the ability to speak after, but she nodded mutely, her eyes still wide.

"What's going on here?" a voice drawled. "Female Weasley, you're blocking the corridor. Move." Draco Malfoy appeared on the other side of Ginny, looking positively gleeful. "What are you staring at, Weasley?" He followed Ginny's gaze. His jaw dropped as well. "B-but... you're Potter's..." he muttered. Then he forced a sneer on his face. "Weasley and Granger, I knew it. What's wrong, Granger, did Potter reject you for Chang again? Or did he leave you for Weasel Queen? Oops... I suppose you're Weasel Queen now, eh? Going to have a dozen weasels for children? Perhaps six Weasel Princes and six Weasel Princesses, for a round number?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron growled.

"Voice a bit hoarse, Weasel King? Can't wait to start popping out the ickle little weasels?" Malfoy taunted.

"Ginny, there you are!" Harry said, coming into the car. "Malfoy," he said flatly as he spotted the blond boy. He looked past Malfoy. "So..." he said, "where are the usual boulders behind you? I was getting used to the strange interior decorations."

"If it isn't The-Boy-With-An-Oedipus-Complex," Malfoy said. Harry looked puzzled. "So, Potter, Chang wasn't good enough for a hero like yourself? Had to go after Weasley's sister?"

"What?" Harry and Ginny said at the same time.

"What?" Ron echoed, a bit late.

Malfoy sneered. "Of course, you remember what I said last June." Harry narrowed his eyes. Everyone else merely looked puzzled. "You'd best hope you end up like your Mudblood mother, instead of the slower way."

With a final smirk, Malfoy strode off in the other direction.

***

"Just go, hag!" Hermione said, sighing, as Helen clung to her robes, staring at the large man named Hagrid apprehensively. "What are you afraid of?"

"The w-water," Helen said. It was three-quarters the truth... Helen had been afraid of water ever since the family's holiday in France, where she had nearly drowned. The other quarter was, of course, occupied with visions of Hagrid eating humans. Helen was sure the man was at least part giant.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes crinkled as he smiled. Helen was sure he was looking at her in a hungry way, probably thinking of how he was going to eat Hermione for dinner and Helen for dessert. She hoped she would taste good. "Now, now, Helen," he said jovially, "don' be afraid of the water! I won' let yeh fall in, and neither will the boats. Yer sister Hermione did fine on her trip across the lake..."

Helen immediately clambered into a boat. "I'm ready to go, Mr. Hagrid," she announced loudly, her nose in the air. There was no way Hermione would ever beat her at anything, except for maybe school.

Hagrid chuckled as Hermione looked scandalized. "Tha's the spirit," he said, climbing into another boat. Helen could have sworn Hagrid winked at Hermione, who scowled darkly, but giants didn't wink. Hagrid tapped the side of his boat with a strange pink umbrella (Helen knew it just had to be for poking people to death), and his boat, as well as the rest of the fleet of boats carrying the first years, began to glide smoothly into the lake.

The sky was clear and a dark blue, the stars twinkling overhead. All Helen could think of was the fact that Hagrid would be able to see his food while he ate. In her boat, two other girls sat gossiping. Both were blonde and pale. "Father said he wouldn't buy me any new dress robes," the one on the left complained.

"I know. Theodore got twenty Galleons each week for pocket money, but I only got ten!" the other girl said. "My parents are so unfair. Well, Mother is. Father... Frances, have you ever noticed that after our fathers got... put away, we never got everything we wanted?" Helen scowled at this. Spoiled brat. "And Mother favors Theodore, because," the girl dropped her voice so that only the girl named Frances and Helen could hear (Helen by accident), "because she thinks Theodore and Draco will be initiated at the end of this school year!"

"And they won't be?" Frances said, puzzled. Helen wondered what the two girls were talking about.

The other girl shook her head. "Theodore doesn't want to serve him. Says that Father is in Azkaban because he was stupid and followed him like a blind dog. And..." her voice dropped even lower so that Helen had to strain to hear it, "Theodore said that he's a half-blood and a hypocrite."

Frances gasped, her eyes going wide. "He could be killed for that!" she whispered urgently. "What about Draco?"

"Draco thinks that he's a hypocrite too. But he's smart enough not to say it out loud. Theodore thinks he wants to use You-Know-Who to help him kill Potter... and then he wants to take his place!"

Helen blinked. Who was this 'he' they kept on talking about? It was getting rather annoying. And what about killing Harry? Helen leaned forward a bit to listen to the girls some more, but they seemed to have stopped talking. Instead, they had directed their attention at Helen. "Hello," Frances said coolly. "What's your surname?"

"My name's Helen Granger," Helen said proudly. The two others, looking shocked for some reason (Helen supposed it was because she was so stunningly beautiful), began to whisper between themselves. Finally, the other girl spoke up.

"So," she sneered, "a Mudblood."

"A what?" Helen said, puzzled.

Frances smirked. "You mean she never actually told you?" Helen was getting rather annoyed at the 'he's and 'she's. "You mean your sister never mentioned anything about Mudbloods to you? A Mudblood," she said distastefully, "is you, you dirty scum." She leered at Helen.

"I am not dirty!" Helen said.

"Muggle wench," the other girl hissed. "Go back to where you came from! Muggles shouldn't be at Hogwarts, you know."

"Now, tha's enough," Hagrid said disapprovingly. Slowly, the three girls realized that the boats had docked in front of a pair of enormous oak doors. The front entrance to Hogwarts. Helen stared up at the castle, momentarily mesmerized. It was just so big. "I won' be havin' any of that around me, understand?" He glared at Frances and her friend. The two quailed under Hagrid's gaze and nodded. "We'd best be going, then," Hagrid said, leading the group of first years to the oak doors. He knocked three times.

Helen caught a glimpse of Mark Evans as the door opened, but she immediately directed her eyes at the woman who had appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in green robes, with a black pointed hat. Her eyes were stern and covered with rectangular spectacles, and her gray-streaked black hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Hermione had talked of this teacher often, always with praise. Then again, she was Hermione. Helen recognized the teacher at once. Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said shortly. "Come along, all of you." Wordlessly, perhaps struck dumb by this teacher's extremely strict presence, the entire group of first years followed her through the threshold into the stone-floored entrance hall. She stopped them as they reached another pair of oak doors. Sounds of conversation could be heard through the doors, but none of the first years dared to utter a sound. "Wait here," McGonagall said before breezing through the doors, into what Helen supposed was the Great Hall.

There was a collective sigh of relief as the doors closed behind McGonagall. "Mudblood," Frances hissed before taking off with her friend to stand with a group of equally aristocratic-looking boys. Helen was left standing with a small group of nervous-looking girls. She knew, of course, that they would be Sorted into Houses by a sorting hat, but the girls seemed to be under the illusion that they would have to battle the best duelers in the school to get into specific Houses.

"What if I have to duel Harry Potter?" a mousy girl with long black hair tied into pigtails said. "I heard he knows more dueling spells than a seventh year, because of that tournament two years ago!"

Another girl with a brown face and dark brown hair in a ponytail nodded in agreement. "But," she added, "I heard Hermione Granger was the one who helped Harry Potter learn all those spells. Imagine if I had to duel her! I heard she was the smartest person to come to Hogwarts since Dumbledore himself!"

"What if we have to duel a teacher?" another girl, this one with blonde hair the color of dishwater, said.

"Don't be stupid, Amy," the brunette said exasperatedly. "They wouldn't put us against a teacher! That wouldn't be fair at all."

"But neither is putting us against Harry Potter," the black-haired girl said. "I'd rather duel some of the teachers than him or Hermione Granger. Or even Ron Weasley, for that matter. Oh no," she said, paling, "what if I get Draco Malfoy? I mean, he's bound to know... with his father in Azkaban and all... I wonder why they haven't expelled him already. He's a danger to us all!"

"Who's Draco Malfoy?" Amy asked, puzzled.

"He's Harry Potter's nemesis, of course. Besides You-Know-Who," the brunette explained. "Mum told me to watch out for him. She said all Slytherins..."

At that moment, McGonagall chose to come back out. The hall immediately fell silent. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she announced. "You are about to be Sorted into your Houses. While you are here, your Houses will be like your family. You will sleep in the same dormitories, attend classes with your housemates, and eat with them. You will also share a Quidditch team and have a chance to help your House win the House Cup, which I am sure you will find out more about later on. Now, if you'd all follow me..."

Helen was one of the few people to follow McGonagall in, looking composed and normal. Stares and whispers started as she entered the room. Helen ignored them, but the other first years glanced curiously at her. Amy started complaining to Mark about how she didn't want to duel Harry Potter. Mark began to look nervous at the prospect. Helen repressed the urge to laugh.

"Oh my God, it's Harry Potter!" the black-haired girl screamed. "Please don't make me duel him!"

There was a shocked silence from the occupants of the hall. Helen saw that Harry was squirming in his seat. "Don't be silly," McGonagall said briskly. "No one's going to make you duel Mr. Potter..."

There was a chuckle from the Head Table. A man who could only be Dumbledore stood, his eyes twinkling. "Minerva, perhaps..." he said lightly, "yes, Harry, if you'd come up here? I believe we need your help in the Sorting this year..." The black-haired girl began to sob.

"Albus!" McGonagall said sharply. A diminutive wizard with flyaway white hair rushed to comfort the black-haired girl, after dropping off a three-legged stool with a patched, old hat on it in front of the Head Table. She glared at the headmaster, who looked worried that his joke had gone too far. He got up, perhaps to help the short professor, but before he had left his spot at the table, a drawling voice spoke up recklessly.

"Dear, dear, Potter, isn't it against the Hero's Code to make a little girl cry?" Draco Malfoy said from his spot at the Slytherin table. "Mummy isn't very proud of you right now, is she?"

"Shut up," Ron snarled. Harry had gone very white, as if he thought it was against the Hero's Code or something.

"Mr. Malfoy, we are trying to have a Sorting here!" McGonagall said.

Malfoy ignored her. "Heard a little mutt died last June. Was it yours?"

There was an uproar at the Gryffindor table as Harry stood up and unsheathed his wand like a sword. Ron and a round-faced boy who Helen thought was Neville Longbottom were holding Harry back from sprinting to the Slytherin table, while Hermione tried to pull the wand away from Harry. Perhaps it was lucky that Draco Malfoy sat at the table across the room from Slytherin, and not at the Hufflepuff table.

"How's your father doing?" Harry snarled through the mob of Gryffindors.

Immediately, the Slytherin table became chaotic as well as Malfoy shot up from his seat and also drew his wand, looking furious. Two boulder-sized idiots stood to the side, scratching their heads in confusion. Instead, a blonde girl with a pug-like face and a stooped boy had to hold Malfoy back.

"SILENCE!" Everyone froze as a livid Dumbledore glared at all of them. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, my office, now! Filius, if you'd go with them..." Harry and Malfoy sped to the door, walking briskly, neither of them looking at Dumbledore or each other. The tiny professor Flitwick followed them, shaking his head. Ron stood up to follow Harry, but Dumbledore said in a hardened tone, "Mr. Weasley, sit down." Ron sat.

"Professor, may I..." a greasy-haired professor who Helen knew was Snape started.

"Severus, please stay here," Dumbledore said. Snape scowled and looked extremely put-out. McGonagall opened her mouth, but Dumbledore interrupted. "Yes, you too, Minerva." McGonagall closed her mouth, looking disgruntled.

"Very well," she said. "If we would all just direct our attention to the hat. It will sort you into your Houses." There were sighs of relief at this.

"How?" Amy said, puzzled.

As if to answer her question, the hat's brim opened, forming a mouth.

Welcome to Hogwarts, I say,

Where first you will find where to stay.

How?

I'm a Sorting Hat... don't have a cow!

Four Houses to choose,

There's nothing to lose,

Gryffindor made sure of this,

When he took me off that head of his!

You may be put in Hufflepuff,

If you like working tough,

Or if you're loyal and true,

Hufflepuff won't make you blue!

Or you might end up in Ravenclaw,

Where the clever call,

The witty, the studious,

You can come with us.

Gryffindor, the third house,

Where does the bravery douse?

The heroics and courage,

In Gryffindor in this noble age!

But what of the fourth House, Slytherin?

You'll find cunning and wit within,

A different type than Ravenclaw, of course,

But unexpected things may be found in these Slytherin shores.

So go on,

Put me on,

I'll tell you where to go!

Helen blinked as the students in the hall burst into applause. She wondered what House she wanted to be in. Gryffindor, her sister's House, seemed dreadfully boring, like the prospect of saving cats in trees. Hufflepuff, as if. Hard work... Helen almost snorted in disgust. Ravenclaw, not too bad, but they sounded like a really academic bunch. Unexpected and cunning wit, though... the marks of Slytherin... they sounded intriguing...

"Please come up when I call your name. Avery, Frances!" McGonagall said.

Frances went up to the stool, sneering. The hat had barely touched her head when it said loudly so that the entire hall could hear, "SLYTHERIN!" There was applause from the Slytherin table as Frances joined them. Helen was a little disappointed, but she really didn't want to end up with her sister. She felt her attention begin to wane as the brunette from the group of three went up. She vaguely heard the Sorting of Mark Evans into Gryffindor, then of Amy Fairfield into Hufflepuff.

"Granger, Helen!" McGonagall called. Helen snapped out of her reverie. Slowly, she walked up to the stool and put the hat on her head. She could see Hermione biting her nails worriedly before the hat slipped over her eyes.

"Another Granger, eh?" a tiny voice said. Somehow, Helen knew only she could hear it.

"Er... sir? Can I go to Slytherin?" Helen thought.

The hat paused. "Slytherin?" he said in a surprised voice. "Why?"

"Well, it sounds the most interesting of the Houses, and I don't want to be in the same House as Hermione."

"Well... yes, I suppose. You and your sister are quite different, I see. Are you sure, Miss Granger, that you want to go to Slytherin? You see, it..."

"Yes!" Helen thought furiously.

The hat sighed. "Very well. SLYTHERIN!"

Helen pulled the hat off her head. It was silent in the Great Hall. Everyone had a look of shock on their faces. There was a small scream, and Hermione Granger slid to the floor in a dead faint.