Brothers

Chapter Four

The Sorting

Draco gazed out the window of the musty coach he was sharing with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the coach. Apparently he hadn't complained enough about the smell to his father last summer. He'd make sure to send his father an owl about it as soon as the Feast was over.

Next to him Pansy was droning on and on about the Dementors. She went on about how two of the girls she was with at the time had been scared nearly to death and how there were a couple Hufflepuffs who had cried. Pansy just loved to gossip about others and spread rumors, it all made her look and sound better.

Draco shifted slightly in his seat. It felt ridiculously crowded in the coach, especially since Pansy kept scooting closer to him little by little. And once Pansy was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with him she began to touch him. Nothing big, a touch on a shoulder here, a brush against his hand there. Even though each interaction was small and only lasted for a second they made Draco very uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't like Pansy, and he didn't mind being around her every now and then. She was a pureblood Slytherin, so she was ok. But he didn't like her the way she seemed to like him, and she never seemed to be able to get the picture.

Shifting in his seat again, Draco peered through the icy rain and spotted the wrought iron gate. He'd seen it the year before; he wasn't impressed then and he wasn't impressed now. He didn't notice the two Dementors that stood on either side of the gate at first. When he did, he immediately sat back in his seat and began to stare at a spot somewhere to the left of Goyle's shoulder. He continued to stare until they had passed the gate and the Dementors. He'd always been nervous about Dementors, he didn't know why, but he was. Something about them just...wasn't right.

As soon as the Dementors were behind him he looked back out the window. The coach slowed to a stop and he began to get out. He was in such a hurry to get away from the musty smell that he nearly fell face forward when something held his hand back. He quickly regained his balance and looked back to see what stopped him from going forward.

Still sitting in the coach Pansy held firmly onto Draco's hand. Draco easily slipped his hand out of her grasp. She didn't seem to mind too much. He was a bit confused as to how Pansy had gotten hold of him without him realizing it. She held my hand and I didn't protest. Her brain must have exploded from the shock of it, Draco thought.

Draco quickly dismounted the coach and began to walk towards the stone steps that led up to Hogwarts. He passed a small group of idling students from his year. He only recognized one of them, Longbottom. Gryffindor. Next to zero magic. Scum. Not worth his time. He was about to bypass the group without taking any notice of them when he overheard a snippet of conversation.

"...the Dementors were looking for something, I think. They went to every compartment." He didn't know which one said this.

"Oh, it came into the apartment I was in with Harry, and Ginny started to cry, but Harry fainted and we were very worried about him..." Longbottom squeaked out, sounding pathetic and shaking from head to toe.

At this Draco grinned. He instantaneously forgot all about the Dementors and everything else that seemed to have gone wrong recently. Harry Potter fainted? The famous scar-head had fainted because of a Dementor! Draco felt as if Rivers never existed, the rain had stopped, the clouds disappeared, and the sun had come out to play...well, maybe not. He didn't particularly like the sun to be out very much. He burned easily and his eyes seemed to be slightly sensitive to the light.

He glanced about, scanning the crowd. Where was Potter? Just as he was about to give up he spotted the dark-haired celebrity. Potter was just getting out of his own carriage after Weasley and Granger. Delighted at the bit of information he had so easily acquired Draco quickly strode over to the oh-so-famous trio. They hadn't even entered Hogwarts and Potter was practically handing him months worth of humiliation in one shot. This was too easy.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?" he said and elbowed Granger out of the way. He now stood in front of Potter so the Gryffindor couldn't walk away.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Weasley said through clenched teeth.

Draco looked at Weasley and said in a loud enough voice for everyone who was nearby to hear, "Did you faint as well, Weasley? Did the scary old Dementor scare you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?"

Draco turned his attention to the man who had spoken. It took some will power to keep from laughing but Draco managed to keep his mouth shut. This man was obviously the new DADA professor, but he didn't look it. He looked tired, worn out, and wore old, patched, and frayed robes. And the suitcase he carried wasn't exactly professor material either. Draco would have more than just the carriage to complain about in his owl to his father.

"Oh, no - er - professor." He smirked at Crabbe and Goyle. They had followed him, as always. Still smirking Draco led his two lackeys up the stone steps and into Hogwarts.

"Can you believe the sort of scum they're letting teach at Hogwarts now?" Draco asked Crabbe and Goyle, not expecting any sort of answer. "Soon that idiot Dumbledore will be allowing Muggles and Squibs to teach magic!"

Crabbe and Goyle chortled stupidly. With their incredible idiocy Draco would not have been surprised if they hadn't understood a word he said.

The three of them entered the Great Hall and headed over to the Slytherin's table. Half the table was already full with chattering Slytherins and Draco immediately sat next to Marcus Flint and the other Quidditch players. It wasn't completely surprising that Flint, who had been a seventh year last year, was once again in seventh year. The Slytherin Quidditch Captain wasn't the brightest crayon in the box and he had been slacking off last year.

Draco leaned close to the center of the table so that they all could hear him over the noise in the Great Hall. "Have you heard yet?"

"Heard what?" asked Jason Vigo, a fifth year.

Draco grinned maliciously. Everyone was looking at him, which meant no one had heard of Potter's problem with the Dementors. He was lucky enough to have the pleasure of telling the tale...and maybe spicing it up a bit.

"You didn't hear about what happened on the train? With Potter?" Stalling, at this point, made it so much better to tell.

"You know we didn't. If you have something to say go ahead and say it Draco," Alyssa Myers said.

Draco glared darkly at the second year sitting opposite him. Alyssa was probably the only Slytherin Draco disliked, with good reasons. Unlike the other Slytherins she never respected him, and was the only Slytherin to poke fun at him for being below a Mudblood in his studies. Of course, she was below several Mudbloods in her studies, something that Draco reminded her of as often as possible.

"Well," he started, turning back to the others, "apparently when the Dementors went into Potter's compartment, he lost it. Apparently he screamed like a little girl and fainted." He glanced up to see if Potter was at the Gryffindor table and grinned when the scar-head was nowhere to be found. "He had to be taken to the hospital wing. I hear he went nutters."

He could have made it sound worse for Potter, but that would have to do...for now. Draco smirked as those around him began to spread the word. In moments the whole Slytherin table would be buzzing with talk of what had happened, and in minutes, the entire Great Hall. This was so much fun.

"That's an interesting little bit of news, Draco," Alyssa said sarcastically and looked at the other Slytherins. "Anyways, my little sister is a first year this year, and my older brother bet me that she's going to be a Ravenclaw, like him." She rolled her eyes. "He's betting ten galleons that she's Ravenclaw, and I'm betting ten that she's Slytherin. And he's said he'll bet each of you ten that she'll be Ravenclaw, if you guys are up to it, that is."

Most of the surrounding Slytherins exchanged glances, and Jason spoke up. "What makes him so sure she'll be Ravenclaw?"

"She's the smartest little shit any of us have ever met," Alyssa said bluntly.

"What's she like?" Draco asked.

"Like me." Alyssa smiled deviously.

"Slytherin," most of those around her immediately said and told her to include them in that bet.

Alyssa pulled out a quill and some parchment and began writing down names. As she did this Draco looked over to the Ravenclaw table at Cody, Alyssa's older brother. Cody was another reason he didn't like Alyssa very much. Cody was a fifth year Ravenclaw, the only one in the Myers family to be placed outside of Slytherin. This wouldn't matter to Draco much, if Alyssa wasn't so much like her older brother. She'd deny it again and again, but she and her brother had a lot in common, which meant there were probably only one or two deciding factors that kept Alyssa in Slytherin.

"Well, since we're already betting here, anyone want to bet on how many first years will make Slytherin?" Shane McGrant asked.

"I'll write that down too," Alyssa offered and drew a line below the list of names she'd previously written. "Does anyone know how many new first years there are?"

"There are about forty every year, sometimes more," Shane said.

"Who was that boy who followed you onto the train today, Draco?" Ian Kindler asked.

Draco glared at him. "No one."

There was no chance for Ian to respond, for the doors of the Great Hall opened just then. In strode Professor McGonagall, leading the first years in a line, and at the very end of said line was Rivers, soaked and looking horribly depressed. Draco was torn between wanting to smirk at his brother's situation and wanting to completely dismiss him. He chose the latter, staring at the table while the Sorting Hat sang its stupid new song. He only looked up again when McGonagall spoke.

"This year's Sorting will be a little different," McGonagall announced. "As usual, when I call your name alphabetically, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will sit at the appropriate table. However, this year we have a new third year student, and being such, he will be Sorted first."

Draco glanced to take a look at Rivers, but ended up looking at Alyssa instead. She had been staring at him, for how long Draco didn't know, but she looked away as soon as he noticed her. She knows...I don't know how, but she knows...

McGonagall began to unroll a large roll of parchment. "Malfoy, Cassius!"

Rivers looked like he was ready to vomit in disgust. He also looked confused as hell. Not that Draco noticed this much, because when McGonagall spoke the entire Slytherin table turned to look at him. He glared at them, hoping they would look away, and looked back up at Rivers. His so-called twin hadn't moved from where he'd been standing, looking confused and utterly disgusted. He'd obviously not known what his birth name was. After a moment he did step forward, and as soon as he reached McGonagall he said something under his breath that Draco could not hear. He was sure he was correcting the transfiguration teacher.

When Rivers sat on the stool and placed the hat on his head Draco couldn't decide whether or not he wanted Rivers in Slytherin. If Rivers was placed in one of the other houses Draco would not have to deal with him. But if he didn't get into Slytherin, it would dishonor the Malfoy name. No Malfoy had ever been in any house other than Slytherin.

Rivers sat on the stool, the hat silent, for nearly half a minute, which seemed to be an eternity for Draco. Finally, after a few of his fellow Slytherins began to whisper about whether or not to place a bet on how long it would take for the hat to sort this new kid, the hat shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!!!"

Several of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws booed at this, only because Rivers was now officially a Slytherin, and only a few Slytherins clapped. Most were just looking to Draco, a questioning look in their eyes. Rivers didn't seem to mind any of this. He moved quickly from the stool, leaving the Sorting Hat behind, and sat at the far end of the table where there weren't many people, trying desperately to get away from the other students.

Alyssa leaned over the table and whispered, "So, when did you plan on telling us you had a brother? And, assuming neither of you started a year late or early, a twin?"

Draco didn't dignify that with an answer. He glanced at Rivers, who looked like he was going to be sick, and gave a disgusted sigh. For the rest of the Sorting he stared at the table, occasionally glaring and sometimes threatening anyone who dared ask him about Rivers.

Finally the Sorting was over. All the first years had taken their appropriate places. Alyssa's little sister, Grace, had been Sorted into Slytherin, and Alyssa was tallying up her brother's losses. Draco saw that as McGonagall left with the hat and stool, Potter came back with Granger. They sat with Weasley, and immediately began to talk amongst themselves.

Dumbledore stood. "Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..." He cleared his throat. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

Draco gave a slight inward shudder, so small that no one noticed.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds..." Draco stopped listening there. He glanced at Rivers, who seemed to be equally ignorant of the old fool, and then occupied himself with listing the things he wanted to complain about to Father after the feast. Rivers, Dumbledore, the Dementors, the smell in the carriage, Rivers, the new DADA teacher, Rivers...

Despite his wanting to ignore Dumbledore, he couldn't help but snap to attention when he heard that not only was that ragged man the new DADA teacher, but the old lout had appointed the giant oaf, Hagrid, as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Just wait till Father hears about THIS! He'll have Dumbledore sacked for sure now!

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore said. "Let the feast begin!"

Suddenly there was food and drink everywhere, and Draco mentally stored his complaints and began to help himself to the food. He had to admit that the beginning and end of the year feasts were pretty good, if not great, even if that Dumbledore was still Headmaster.

It wasn't for at least ten minutes that Draco realized that Rivers, down at his lonely end of the table, hadn't eaten a thing. Draco guessed that the Dementors had more of an affect on him than he was letting on; he'd heard his brother's stomach growling on the train. As he looked down at Rivers, Dumbledore popped up, seemingly out of nowhere. Draco hadn't seen him leave the Great Table.

Dumbledore leaned over, gently tapping Rivers on the shoulder, and whispering something to him. Rivers looked at the old man for a moment before getting up and following him out of the Great Hall. Draco wasn't the only one to notice him go, but the others seemed to dismiss it easily. After contemplating what the hell Dumbledore could want, Draco settled on the idea that he was going over the school rules with Rivers or something stupid like that.

Draco shrugged it off, and continued to eat his meal.

./'./'./'./'

Rivers had planned on returning to the Great Hall after speaking with Dumbledore, and maybe forcing himself to eat something. He hadn't eaten anything, and he didn't feel hungry despite his empty stomach. He'd lost his appetite after the run in with the Dementors and he felt he'd never get it back. He didn't have a chance to eat at all, though. By the time he returned everyone was filing out into the hallway.

He stood by the doors, just barely managing to avoid being swept away by the crowd. He waited until he spotted some students he recognized as fellow Slytherins and followed them as best he could. He didn't pay very much attention to where they were going, and they soon came to the Slytherin commons.

The Slytherin commons was more like a prison cell to Rivers than a place where students gathered. The rough stonewalls were unfriendly, and the fire in the hearth along with the greenish lamps cast cold, eerie shadows. How can they all stand to be in a place like this?

Tired and irritated, Rivers followed a boy he knew was the same year as he was up into the dorms. There were six four-poster beds, three on each side of the large room. He quickly found the one that was apparently his, his trunk at the bed's foot. He didn't bother to change, only slipped off his shoes, climbed into bed, and pulled the drapes shut around him.

What the hell kind of name is Cassius anyways?

He lay awake for nearly an hour, and when sleep finally claimed him he never wanted to wake up.