Angela Cross and the End All Spell

Angela Cross and the End-All Spell

--a Harry Potter Universe fanfiction--

Chapter Six

**House Colors**

Standing at the door was a witch, tall with her raven hair pulled into a tight bun. She wore emerald robes and had the stern look of someone who expected discipline and got it with little argument. She looked over the students before her, before the man spoke up.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Professor McGonagall opened the doors wide, though Angela had no idea how she was able to do so for doors that were so unmistakably heavy. Standing before the students-to-be was a hallway of gargantuan proportions, flaming torches held by gargoyle statues mounted the walls all the way down its length with a marble staircase at the very end that looked like a freeway offramp in proportion. The ceiling above stretched so far upward that Angela couldn't make out the top of it.

The woman led the students through the marble hallway across the rough, irregularly shaped-and-placed stone floor, past a large doorway to their right where Angela could hear the din of hundreds of people talking and chatting casually - she assumed it was the older students who had already arrived at the school. As they walked, Angela could see her new friend was doing her level best to stay by her side; this Kathy-girl had apparently taken quite a shining to her, and Angela could feel the same developing from herself. C'mon, she thought to herself, shaking her head to fight off the resistance she could feel within, you're not going to any new schools. You're going to get to know this person for years. There's no reason to be afraid of growing attachments.

Past the room with the voices, McGonagall led the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall's main path. It was a tight fit as everyone filed in, crammed next to each other. Angela felt extremely uncomfortable, as she didn't like her personal space being invaded and there probably wasn't a student that wasn't crammed up into another one in the room. When they were all within the room, looking about nervously and wondering what was going to happen now, the Professor spoke.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

As she concluded her statement, Angela could see her scan her eyes over the group present, looking at Neville a little pensively and at Ron Weasley not far off, as well as a few others in the room who looked like they could use some freshening up. Quickly there was a quiet flurry to flatten hair, straighten cloaks, and make sure zippers weren't hanging open.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall added amidst the subdued hustle. "Please wait quietly." And with that she left the room, leaving the first years on their own.

Angela, quickly making sure she was presentable, looked at Kathy, who was making sure her hair wasn't sticking up in any places. Nearby she could see the boy with sunglasses going nearly manic with his shiny black hair, while the other boy that had accompanied them on the boat was barely making any effort to straighten himself up besides sniffing his robes to make sure they weren't smelly. In this light, Angela had to repress a laugh at the sight of the boy's pointy hat, which despite being normal sized still looked much too small for his head, his curly brown hair puffed up like an afro underneath it; Angela thought it looked like an upside-down chocolate ice cream cone.

There was murmuring amongst the children, and Angela could hear people speculating on just how the Sorting Ceremony was performed. She could hear one boy say he thought it involved a test, and that maybe it was supposed to hurt. Angela swung around as best she could and looked at Kathy with an eye of worry: were they supposed to perform a test to get into specific houses? Kathy looked even more worried than Angela, even a little panicky. Angela supposed that while the prospect of being placed in a group based on skill-level was already a frightening prospect for her, the Ministry had made such a big deal about her going to Hogwarts that this couldn't be anything that would cause her a real dilemma in learning magic. Kathy, on the other hand, looked so worried that Angela began to wonder if she herself was taking this Sorting thing seriously enough, and worry began to build in her even more. Apparently, the entire room was feeling the same fears for everywhere she looked there were wide eyes and fingernails being chewed on furiously; only the big-toothed girl she had seen on the train before seemed to be remotely calm, muttering something to herself that Angela couldn't make out.

Then, as if to tear the tension from one set of tracks and toss them to another, a series of screams started emanating from the back of the room. Angela and Kathy whirled about, as did the rest of the room, and saw twenty pearly-white, translucent forms flow through the walls, all talking amongst themselves as they soared casually over the crowd. The reaction of the crowd was interesting: some of the first years screamed and tried to shove their way to the other side of the room, others barely paid the ghosts a single glance, while Angela and Kathy instead looked upon them with wide smiles and open eyes.

"WOW!!" they both exclaimed in unison.

A fat one dressed like a monk, complete with bald-spot cut into his hair, was arguing to another ghost floating alongside him. "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar," responded the ghost, wearing a ruff and tights like out of some cheesy Shakespearean stage-play, "haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghosts suddenly noticed all the potential students crowding the room, looking at them in both awe and terror. There was dead silence from everyone in the room.

The Fat Friar clapped his ghostly hands together with a smile. "New students!" he exclaimed. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

There were a few nodding heads from the group, though still no one spoke up.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar said. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," came the commanding voice of Professor McGonagall from the room's entrance, "the Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

She had returned while the ghosts were distracting the group and at her behest the ghosts slowly floated away through the wall they came from, looking a little disappointed as though they wanted to get to know the future students better.

"Now, form a line and follow me," she told the first years, who formed a line as best they could. Angela got behind Kathy, and behind her was a very pretty girl with her long brown hair in a plait looking spectacularly nervous. When the group seemed appropriately lined up, Professor McGonagall led them out of the chamber, back across the flagged stones of the hall, and through a pair of double doors leading into the Great Hall.

The only other place Angela had been in that looked as large and resplendent as this was the main hall of the Ministry of Magic. Above her head were thousands of wax candles floating in midair, and to Angela's relief didn't seem to be dripping wax anywhere. Running the length of the room all the way to the end were four long wooden tables upon which were placed ornate plates and goblets of gold and silver, and at the tables sat the rest of the student body from the train, all dressed in black robes and pointy hats; hundreds and hundreds of eyes were looking at her and the rest of the first-years, twinkling like stars in the flickering candlelight, though not a word was heard amongst them at the moment. The occasional wisp of silver here and there drew her eye, where she suddenly noticed some of the ghosts fluttering about the room; funny enough, none of the older students even paid them any heed, as though they were perfectly used to them. At the very end of the Great Hall sat a long table placed lengthwise where the faculty sat, also looking upon the new arrivals with curiosity. Angela recognized a couple of figures sitting at the table, one of which being Professor Dumbledore from her day at the Ministry of Magic, and the other one being Professor Quirrell, who looked as nervous and pensive as before. Neither was looking directly at her at the moment. The giant man named Hagrid took his place near the end of the table with the rest of the faculty, and Angela found herself wondering what classes he taught.

Professor McGonagall continued to lead the group into the hall, and as they walked Angela looked up and noticed there was no roof to the Hall, that it was open to the clear and starlit sky above, though fortunately there didn't seem to be any breeze or cold wafting in from the top. The group marched in, finally coming to a rest at the end of the Great Hall in front of the faculty table. Angela could see from here that there were a number of empty places set at the student tables, probably where prospective students would be seated once they were accepted into their houses.

Once the whole of first-years were clustered at the clearing between the faculty and student tables, looking around at everything that surrounded them, Professor McGonagall came forth with a four-legged stool which she placed before the group. She then placed upon the stool an old, ratty leather hat that Angela could easily see in one of her mother's booths: the thing was dusty, parched, frayed, and would probably get her mother about thirty dollars if presented right.

Angela wasn't sure if this hat had something to do with the test that they were going to have to do, but everyone in the room, even the faculty, had their eyes transfixed upon it. The room was dead silent for a few moments, and then to Angela's surprise the hat twitched and stretched, as though it was waking up. A rip near the brim of the hat then opened up into a wide mouth, and to the first years' amazement it began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

The daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Angela recounted what she said earlier: with that presentation her mother could probably get a lot more for it.

The whole hall cheered on the hat's closing of the song with roaring applause. It proceeded to bow to the tables present and then returned to its unmoving state.

Kathy looked completely relieved that the only test they had to pass was wear the hat and see where it put you. Meanwhile, Angela was smiling from ear to ear and couldn't wait to try on the hat to see which house she was going to be in. She was so excited about everything going on around her that she felt as though she was going to explode.

Once the applause had settled down, Professor McGonagall stepped up with a long parchment scroll in hand.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she announced to all present. The crowd grew deathly quiet.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with blonde pigtails and a pink face stumbled forward through the group, looking rather queasy. She placed the hat upon her head, which amusingly sank down right over her nose, and sat down on the chair. There was a second of pause, and then -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The girl looked much less queasy when she removed the hat and she was met with raucous applause from the table on the right. She ran down to sit at one of the empty spaces at the table with her new Hufflepuff housemates, and the silvery ghost of the Fat Friar smiled happily at her from above the table.

"Bones, Susan!" cried McGonagall. Another girl came up, put on the hat, and sat down.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" announced the hat once more, and Susan hurried over to take her place by Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Terry ran to join his new classmates at the second table from the left, met with applause and handshakes from the other members of Ravenclaw.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

As the first new member of Gryffindor, there was uproarious applause and hooting from the farthest left table. Angela could see Mr. Weasley's sons Fred, George, and Percy in the crowd (though Percy was certainly far more reserved than his brothers, who were hooting as though they were part of Arsenio Hall's 'Dog Pound').

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

There was a burst of cheering from the Slytherin table as the hat announced her new house. Angela could feel her stomach tightening a little: they were probably going to call her soon.

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

As the beefy, bowl-cut Crabbe lumbered from the stool, which had to struggle to support his weight, over to the Slytherin table, Angela found herself quickly hoping to be somewhere other than Slytherin when her time came. After the treatment she had received from him on the Hogwarts Express, she'd rather not have to see that fat jerk's face every single day.

She didn't get to consider this thought for long, however, as her name was announced across the room by Professor McGonagall.

"Cross, Angela!"

Angela took a deep breath, giving Kathy a quick look before she moved through the group and came forward. The hat was sitting right in front of her, and she found every face in the crowd, now including Professors Dumbledore and Quirrell, were upon her. The instructors at the head table seemed to be eyeing her with more interest than the other students, though: she suspected that they all knew the nature of her magical abilities and were curious to see what the Sorting Hat would make of them.

Angela picked up the hat, sat on the stool, and placed it upon her head. The hat sank right over her eyes and everything went black. Strangely enough, with the hat so close to her nose, she could swear she smelled what faintly seemed to be... bourbon?

"Ohhh," said a small voice from within the hat, "so you're the Twink, are you? Those are some pretty potent spells I see running around in your head, some very dark magic indeed. And dark magic always seems to find a home in Slytherin." Angela gulped and tightened her hands; it looked like she was going to be classmates with that ox after all.

"But that's probably what they're all thinking, I'll bet my leathery hide," it muttered, which was strange to Angela since it didn't seem to be talking to her.

It quickly reverted its attention back to her, though: "Hmm, perhaps Hufflepuff, I see you're no stranger to hard work." Angela couldn't help but agree to this, her mother had made her do so much manual labor in her time that she wouldn't be at all surprised if the wizarding world expected no less of her.

"No, no, too predictable, everyone just expects predictability these days from the old Sorting Hat. Bah."

Angela was beginning to wonder if all the other prospective students had to listen to the hat ramble away on its own like this.

The hat sat there on her head, mulling about something on its own, and even the students in the audience began to murmur amongst themselves why this was taking so long. Then, out of nowhere with a loud bellow, the hat announced its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

It was certainly a confusing experience, as the hat returned to its silent state upon her head, but the elated shouts and cheers from the Gryffindor table shoved any concern she may have had about this aside. It was a glorious feeling to see so many people clapping her on and ushering her to sit at an empty plate. The ghost with the ruffles she had seen earlier floated above the table and applauded her as well.

With the Sorting behind her, Angela now looked up at those who still awaited their turn. One by one, the prospective students were sorted and became true students of Hogwarts. The pale Draco Malfoy from the train was sorted into Slytherin almost before the hat even hit his head, further pleasing Angela that she hadn't gone to that house. Next was "Macmillan, Ernie", off to Hufflepuff; then the boy with the sunglasses from before, an Asian-looking boy with straight black hair and dark skin Professor McGonagall called out as "McGee, James", who was sorted off into Slytherin.

"Milliman, Katrushka!"

Kathy stepped up and sat on the stool, placing the hat upon her head. Angela looked hopefully at the hat and waited as it sat in silence upon her, and then it called out the house she was to be in for the remainder of her time in Hogwarts.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Angela immediately furrowed her brow in frustration. Ravenclaw?? There was a burst of applause from their table and Kathy got up, smiling, though she and Angela shot a look at each other, both of surprise and sorrow that they weren't being placed in the same house.

That's what you get for getting your hopes up, Angela thought to herself, just like always. She looked at the empty place next to herself, feeling annoyed at her lack of luck.

More students were chosen for houses and Angela tried to redirect her attention from Kathy, who she had no idea how often she would see from now on, back to the Sorting Ceremony. The audience reactions were pretty much the same until Professor McGonagall called out the name of the local celebrity.

"Potter, Harry!"

The room went deathly silent as the cute boy with the chicken scratch stepped forward towards the stool, though whispers began to spin about the room.

"Harry Potter?"

"That's him? The Boy-Who-Lived?"

The boy just looked at everyone nervously, like he was going to be a little sick, and after reaching the chair he plopped the hat down over his eyes. Everyone watched with interest, though Angela still had no idea what was so special about this kid; considering he was getting even more attention from the faculty than she had, it must've been something spectacular.

There was suddenly a complete hush as the hat sat on Harry's head, apparently trying to determine where he was to go. Angela looked around at the crowd, and craning her neck a little she could see Kathy a couple of tables down, she was apparently just as enraptured by the scene before them all as much as the rest of the school. Potter seemed to be mouthing something, perhaps to the hat, and then after a few seconds, the hat made its mind up.

"... better be GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, and the whole hall broke out in louder applause than Angela had heard yet, especially from her own table. As the room shook with cheering, Harry got up, wobbly-kneed, and took a seat in one of the empty places, students and even ghosts patting him on the back and shaking his hand as he went. Angela applauded along with everyone else, though primarily because her house had a new member added to its ranks.

Just five people remained now: "Thomas, Dean", a tall black boy who went to Gryffindor; "Turpin, Lisa", an exotic-looking girl with long brown hair that was sent to Ravenclaw; "Wages, Jason", the boy with the curly hair and big head (who, much to her amusement, could actually wear the Sorting Hat comfortably) became a member of Hufflepuff house; a very pale and very green "Weasley, Ron" took his turn under the hat and looked quite relieved to be placed in Gryffindor; and finally, a wiry-haired "Zabini, Blaise" joined the Slytherin table.

With the Sorting Ceremony finally concluded, the student body could let their hands cool as the applause subsided. Also, with the Sorting Ceremony concluded, Angela suddenly remembered something she almost never forgot: how empty her stomach was. She was beginning to get a headache from being so hungry (Thank god the applause was dying down, she thought), and was beginning to wish she hadn't thrown away that candied apple, even if it had gone bad. Hopefully the plates and utensils before her weren't just for show.

At the main table, Professor Dumbledore stood to his feet and every eye in the room turned to him. He had that same wonderful smile Angela had seen on him two weeks before in the Ministry of Magic, and he looked across the room at all the students, new and old, that sat before him, opening his arms wide in a welcoming motion.

"Welcome!" he announced. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet (Yes!! thought Angela), I would like to say a few words (Darn, thought Angela). And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

And then he sat back in his chair, looking very pleased. There was applause from everyone in the room, though the first-years did so with a little confusion; Angela was just glad that his speech was a short one. Harry Potter asked one of the Weasleys if Professor Dumbledore was mad, but Percy assured him that the Professor was a brilliant mind and the best wizard in the world. He then agreed that Dumbledore was a bit mad before casually scooping a massive spoonful of potatoes onto his plate.

Angela's head turned towards her own plate in what to others would have looked like a blur of speed. Her eyes opened wide, and had Angela been the praying sort she would have gotten onto her knees and thanked whatever almighty powers existed for what she saw before her. There wasn't a single plate on the table that wasn't stacked high with food.

Where to start??? Pot roast, ribs, fried chicken, hamburgers, fried zucchini, pizza, lasagna, rib eye steak, green beans, mashed potatoes, turkey sandwiches, breadsticks, corn on the cob, collared greens, tacos... And that was just on the first massive tray that was placed in front of her, there were dozens upon dozens of choices to make from all the other trays that were lined all the way up and down the table. Angela wondered if she could just forget taking classes and stay in the Great Hall for the rest of her stay at Hogwarts with a plate and some utensils to keep her company.

Before she had even realized it herself, she had piled her plate high with all sorts of good food and was stuffing herself like crazy, helping herself to some milk to aid it all in going down. Angela had always been a big lover of food: her natural metabolism was so high that she normally burnt food right out her system almost immediately, keeping her thin and fit but also leaving her practically starving all the time. Now with this unlimited feast sitting before her (she smiled, determined to learn the limits of just how 'unlimited' this feast truly was), she was filling her tummy, her headache was quickly gone, and she was feeling euphoric. She was so engrossed in the meal before her that even when a ghost came floating nearby, moaning something about the food, she barely noticed it...

... Until he yanked half his head off when someone asked him about his name. Angela felt put off her food at the sight (the squelching sound didn't help much, either), at least enough that she began to pay attention to what was going on around her finally.

"So - new Gryffindors!" the ghost exclaimed, placing his head back on properly with a cough, "I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

The students looked behind themselves at the Slytherin table, where a rough-looking ghost with blank eyes, a thin face and what appeared to be silver bloodstains all over his robes floated. The students he was near didn't seem to be as comfortable with his presence as the Gryffindors were with this filly-coated ghost's. One of the students near Angela, a sandy-haired boy with a thick Irish accent, asked how the Bloody Baron became covered in blood, but the Gryffindor ghost apparently had no idea.

Angela was on her third helping when the food started disappearing from plates around her. Quickly she grabbed as much as she could off her plate before the rest of the contents vanished into this air, leaving nothing but spotlessly clean plates sitting before every student in the hall. It was a disappointing sight to her, for Angela was still quite ready to keep at all the delicious choices, when all of a sudden the golden plates upon the table filled up magically with desserts. If she thought she was even coming close to filling her stomach before, the though immediately disintegrated at the sight of blueberry cobbler, pumpkin pie, chocolate pudding, treacle tarts, oatmeal cookies, and virtually every non-brand-name snack and sweet she could think of.

Angela's eyes lit up brightly and truly, she felt she had stepped into the promised land.

This time as she ate, she allowed herself the luxury of listening to those around her. Many of the students were meeting and greeting one-another, sharing their backgrounds and either bragging or apologizing about their magical heritage or lack thereof.

"I'm half-and-half," said the one boy with a thick Irish accent, who introduced himself as Seamus, "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." Everyone laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" asked Ron. Angela hadn't even noticed that the round-faced boy was sitting so near to her before. She looked at him, trying to see if he'd forgiven her for causing such a ruckus on the train from before, and caught his eye for a moment before he turned back to his plate of desserts sitting before him quickly. He didn't look upset, just a bit red as though he was embarrassed about something himself, but she hoped to get a chance to actually tell him she was sorry before too long and make sure. Before too much silence had passed, Neville promptly answered Ron's question.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," he said, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy."

Angela's mouth dropped open, aghast at the mention of this: she'd had a family member try to teach her how to swim when she was really young by dunking her all the way under the pool water; his reasoning was that Angela would learn to swim as a survival instinct, which instead nearly got her drowned and left Angela with an unpleasant dread when going swimming nowadays.

Neville continued. "And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." He proceeded to pull out Trevor from his lap and lovingly place him onto the table, and Angela promptly responded by pulling her plate back towards herself and away from the slimy thing, lest it hop onto the pile of cookies she'd procured for herself.

"And what about you?" Seamus asked. There was a bit of silence until Angela looked up from her plate and noticed the eyes of those nearest her looking in her direction. It quickly occurred to her that people were wanting to learn her story.

"Uh," started Angela, as she tried to think of how to handle this. According to Kathy, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to come from a non-magical family, but even still she hoped she wasn't going to have to go into detail about her family background. "My parents are both Muggles, I didn't even know magic really existed until a couple of weeks ago."

She didn't say much after this, but the group just continued to look at her, expecting her to go into more detail. When she didn't say anything, the one the Sorting Hat had early addressed as Lavender Brown tried to prod her on.

"And?"

"And what?" Angela asked.

"Well, they wouldn't have sent for you unless you displayed some kind of ability. Like that one," she said, pointing over her shoulder to Hermione Granger, who was talking with Percy Weasley, "she's Muggle-born, too. She was going on about how she kept making her schoolbooks flutter about her room like butterflies on accident, that's when the owls came for her. What about you?"

This was a bit of a tight spot for Angela. She wasn't embarrassed or anything about being a Twink, but she wasn't comfortable enough with her experiences with the Book of Black to really feel like sharing everything about them to complete strangers. On the other hand, she was a lousy liar and didn't want to make up any stories either. And as she wondered what to do, half a dozen people were looking at her expectantly. Quickly trying to buy a few more seconds to think, she grabbed a couple of jelly beans from a dessert tray and chewed on them.

Angela's eyes bugged and before she could stop herself she had spat out the beans onto the floor in absolute disgust: it tasted as though she had just bitten into a solid ball of sweat. Wildly she grabbed a nearby glass of water and guzzled the whole thing, desperately trying to get the horrific taste out of her mouth. To her great annoyance, there were laughs from the students she was sitting with. It took her a few glasses of water to wash out the flavor, though her anger was quelled a little as the students that were laughing quickly gathered up a pitcher and filled her glass for her as she hacked and shuddered sickly. They were still chuckling a little when she let out a breath of relief, pushing the tray of jellybeans as far away from her as she could.

"First time trying Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?" asked either Fred or George Weasley.

"Every Flavor Beans?" Angela asked, eyeing the candy with a look of revulsion.

"Don't give up on them," said either George or Fred Weasley consolingly (though still laughing), "you're bound to get a good one sooner or later. I got an Irish Creame one on the train."

"Did not!" exclaimed Ron disbelievingly. Angela immediately wondered what lunatic would ever come up with a concept like Every Flavor Beans.

To her surprise, George (or was it Fred?) picked up what was left of her bean from the floor and gave it a sniff. She wasn't sure which was more disgusting: the bean itself or the fact that he had picked it up off the ground after she spat it out and smelled it. George pulled back a little and looked at Angela with a sympathetic smirk.

"Blimey, talk about a bad turn of luck. First bean you ever try and you get armpit-flavor." The other students looked at Angela with immediate sympathy as well, though they continued to smile at her misfortune. Angela was not feeling particularly pleased that they were laughing at her until they shared the fact that they had all at one point or another gotten some nasty flavors out of the batch. Neville revealed he had gotten earwax-flavor on more than one occasion, and Ron said he had gotten a sprouts-flavored one on the Hogwarts express. Angela picked up another bean from the plate, though looked at it with much trepidation and sniffed it quickly before putting it back: apparently they were designed to be odorless until they were bitten into, though Angela couldn't help but wish she had gotten a sprouts-flavored bean: she loved veggies.

Fortunately, the whole bean experience had distracted everyone enough from asking her about her magical background. Angela just sat and listened, snacking on more desserts (though with a lot more care this time, hoping the cookies or other sweets weren't loaded with any unusual surprises) as the others continued to talk about themselves. Angela stole a look across her table at the Ravenclaw table, noticing that Kathy was quite happily chatting away with her own new classmates.

As the evening continued, it wasn't a bad experience at all. Her fellow Gryffindors all seemed like a good, friendly bunch of people, and while she remained non-talkative for the majority of the meal she liked to hear about where they came from and what sort of stories their families had behind them. She was surprised just how many people seemed to come from Muggle or half-Muggle families, and as people spoke she began to be able to tell differences between them just by how they talked and what they talked about. The ones with magical parents for instance seemed to have some pretty set preconceptions about the Slytherin table on the other side of the room, going on about how not a single good-hearted soul came out of that house - Angela found this a little hard to believe, as people were people to her and should only be judged on a one-on-one basis, but from how much they went on about it they seemed pretty set in their ways on the matter.

The way the ones from magical families reacted to the scarred-boy, Harry Potter, was also quite interesting. He seemed pretty quiet himself, not trying to do anything to draw attention to himself but succeeding admirably anyway with considerable success. Everyone seemed to want to see his scar, and after enough people asked he slicked his hair a little to the side with water so it would be easily seen without him having to shove his unkempt hair out of the way with his hand. People kept commenting around him about someone named You-Know-Who, who Angela recalled Mister Weasley had mentioned a while back but hadn't gone into much detail about, and a few people even had the gall to ask if they could touch the scar, to which Harry politely turned them down; quite rude of them, Angela thought to herself. At one point as he looked up at the faculty table, he even flinched and rubbed his scar painfully; why people wanted to touch something that still hurt really made Angela upset.

The desserts finally began to vanish off the table in the same manner as the main dishes, though this time Angela had had enough that she didn't feel compelled to hoard anything before her own plate's contents faded from view. Once the tables were clean, Professor Dumbledore stood up and the hall grew quiet.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered," he said, quietly clearing his throat, "I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." As he said this, he gave a friendly yet cautionary look at Angela's table. She turned slightly and noticed he was looking at the Weasley twins, who despite the warning seemed like they hadn't paid attention at all.

"I have also been asked by Mister Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." This time he nodded to a thin, worn man with scraggly clothes, a duster coat, and what seemed to be a perpetual scowl carved into his face who was looking at the students with unmistakable antipathy. Standing at his side was a small, gray housecat with red eyes who seemed to share his dislike of the student body.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term," he continued, "anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."

Angela smiled amusedly at this, and Harry Potter and a few other students in the hall even laughed, but they all quickly stopped when they noticed the rest of the room remained utterly silent. Apparently Professor Dumbledore was not joking. Harry even asked Percy to make sure, but Percy just acknowledged that Dumbledore was quite serious.

"It's odd," she heard him say quietly, "because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." Angela quickly felt a tad nervous that the school she was now attending had death-zones located within it, as well as a forest with wild animals running around in it just outside the walls. She made a quick mental note to get a map of the premises as soon as possible and find out if any other parts of the school were marked "keep out or die".

Dumbledore continued. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" He gave his wand a little flick and a long, golden ribbon shot out of it, winding its way through the air above the faculty table and twisting itself into a long string of words. Angela looked around and saw some of the students and faculty, though smiling politely, were not looking particularly enthused for what was coming next.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," he said, "and off we go!"

What came was positively one of the strangest and most cacophonic mish-mashes of singing Angela had ever heard as the Professor conducted with his wand. She herself just mouthed the words, not trusting much in her own singing ability, while the rest of the school went off on their own random tunes:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old or bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

It was simultaneously the dumbest and the funniest song Angela had probably heard in years. She couldn't help but laugh while people in the audience finished at random intervals and different tunes, with the song finally coming to an end as the Weasley twins sang the whole thing in a slow funeral dirge. Their attention-getting was beginning to seem a little desperate to Angela, though when they finished it was Professor Dumbledore who applauded them the loudest, his eyes misty with tears.

"Ah, music," he said, "a magic beyond all we do here!" Angela wondered if perhaps he was a little touched in the head after all if he was calling that music.

"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Everyone got up from their tables, and the Gryffindor first years followed Percy Weasley through the noisy crowds and out of the Great Hall, up the giant marble staircase at the end of the hall outside. Everyone, including Angela, looked about their surroundings in wonder, though most of the students were looking completely exhausted from the emotion and the time of night it now was. Angela felt a bit tired herself, although the excitement of walking through this place for the first time after thinking about it for the last couple of weeks was keeping her so excited that she found herself going on brightly even if her body was out of steam. She was quite thankful for her clear head when Percy led the group up more stairs, behind tapestries and paintings that swiveled on hinges with hidden doors behind them, past pictures of more moving and talking people, on and on; even with a relatively clear head, Angela wondered how she was going to remember her way back down to the main hall without a Sherpa guide.

Suddenly, the entire group abruptly stopped. The students looked around, wondering if they were finally there, when the all looked up and noticed a bundle of walking sticks floating in midair. Percy, holding his hand back to keep the other students in place, walked towards the sticks, and suddenly one by one they began to hurl themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy said to the first-years quietly, "a poltergeist." This was not something Angela wanted to hear: she had seen the movie Poltergeist before and the thought of something similar inhabiting the school was not appealing in the least. At least the ghosts from before seemed friendly (or harmless) enough, but something that wanted to hurt them was a different story.

"Peeves," Percy said, raising his voice commandingly, "show yourself."

A loud, high-pitched farting sound responded to him.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Percy said in a threatening tone.

All of a sudden there was a popping sound and a little man who reminded Angela of an evil version of Elmer Fudd appeared before the group, holding the walking sticks and sitting in mid-air with his legs crossed.

"Oooooooh!" he said with a sinister cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped down at the group and everyone ducked, though Angela was more disappointed than worried: the poltergeist looked like Myxzptlk from the Superman comics and was more ridiculous than he was scary.

"Go away, Peeves," Percy yelled, "or the Baron will hear about this, I mean it!"

Peeves just stuck his tongue out at him and vanished, dropping the sticks on Neville's head before zipping off invisibly down the hall, knocking suits of armor about as he went. Angela cringed at seeing Neville get beaten on like that, this was apparently not his day.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy said, regaining his composure and continuing the trek through the school. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

Many of the students looked quiet happy at this announcement, even Angela whose feet were beginning to hurt from all the climbing. Apparently Peeves wasn't waiting for them too far from the entrance to their rooms. They had arrived at the end of a corridor where a gigantic painting of a fat lady in a shiny pink dress was hanging. At the arrival of the students she looked at them and then at Percy expectantly.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy responded, and with a smile from the fat lady the portrait swung open, revealing a large hole in the wall. Everyone climbed up through it and exited into a large, comfortable looking room where a warm fire was roaring in the hearth, huge chairs with red cushions sat about near sturdy-looking hardwood tables, and a large Gryffindor crest was mounted upon the opposite wall. Angela could see the dark grounds outside barely lit by the light of the full moon, and she assumed from the round shape of the room that they were in one of the castle's towers. All in all, it was extremely inviting.

Percy led the girls to a flight of stairs, though he didn't follow them up. Quickly, the Granger girl took the lead and all the girls climbed up the circular stairway until they reached what seemed to be near the top, a round room with five humongous four-poster beds, each with curtains of red-velvet on them to insure privacy. Many of the girls, including Angela squealed with glee at the sight of such lavish accommodations. Trunks were placed at the foot of each bed, though when Angela didn't see hers she and the other girls continued upward. As they climbed they passed room after room, each with the exact same beds and layout, though each with different trunks, until after five floors (which included a floor dedicated to a private washroom and lavatory for the girls) she and four others finally reached the very top, where she saw her trunk placed at the foot of what was going to be her sleeping area for a long time to come.

Angela hopped onto her bed and grinned widely as she sunk into the soft sheets and pillows. The bed was incredibly comfortable, and the curtains were a nice touch as she liked her privacy. The other girls seemed to be equally ecstatic as they tried out their beds and examined their individual wardrobes located by each bed. All seemed so psyched by the day's events that like her they seemed relatively unable to sleep and started chatting amongst one another about all that had happened that day.

Opening her trunk and grabbing her PJs, Angela closed the curtains to get dressed, pleased to find that they blocked out most of the noise from the chatter of the girls quite effectively. She threw on her pajamas and lied down on the bed to get a feel of it, and as soon as her head hit the pillow she could feel her body telling her she wasn't going to be getting up any time soon. Without realizing it her eyelids became increasingly heavy, and within moments she could feel herself drifting away, barely able to muster the will to pull herself under the soft sheets of her bed before the darkness swept over her, the muffled sounds of the girls outside fading farther and farther away.

And with that, the tune of Hoggy warty Hogwarts still playing in her head, her first day at magic school had ended. Never before had Angela gone to sleep happier.