Thinking

Jessica Nott lay on the Astronomy Tower banister thinking, as she does frequently during Christmas Holiday. She knows that this is supposed to not be allowed, but she honestly does not care.

She doesn't care about much of anything, unless it isn't allowed.

She is thinking about her Sorting, as she usually does on such nights when Love is in the air and the stench becomes overpowering. Love has never been her friend.

Almost five and a half years ago, Jessica had come to Hogwarts with the rest of her class. She had ignored the search for Harry Potter and his friend, as she was far more interested in knowing how the train worked. "Is it an Enchanted Muggle Train? Why is it so slow? If it moves by magic, why bother making so much smoke?" The conductor had not been pleased to share the ride with her.

When it was too dark to see the countryside properly, the conductor had, with some relief, told her that they were almost there, and would she please go and get ready. She had complied with some trepidation. The sorting had frightened her more than anything. That and what would happen to her if her parents had their way.

She shifts on the banister. Her long bony frame is protesting the hard stone surface. She thinks about her parents briefly. How proud they had been at platform 9 3/4 on that day. The last pride she ever saw in their eyes. The next time she had seen them, they were distant; cold.

After the train had come to the platform at school, she finally saw her future classmates. She knew many of them, and counted some of them as friends. A huge man had come and called for them all, and the first years had gathered around him like sheep. The children she had grown up with were all in a knot, talking excitedly. She stood apart from them, afraid that they would ask her what was wrong. Of course, everything was wrong, and had been for months.

As Jessica often does at this point, she tries to remember something of the boat ride and the speech that McGonagall gives to all incoming students. Nothing. She does not remember the numerous pictures Colin Creevey took, or Ginny Weasley nearly loosing one of her books in the lake. She does not remember the antechamber or the faces staring up from every table. She only remembers the gasp from the Hat, and her pleading, begging for it to put her somewhere, anywhere, but Slytherin.

"Dear child, you were born for that House Your family has been in that House for six generations at least."

"I'm not my family, I'm Me. This is my only chance. Please put me somewhere else. Please.." She had been near tears, and she hated the memory of it.

"You know what this will mean.." It said gently.

"I will be disinherited. I will be shunned and humiliated by my friends. I will belong to myself. Please. There has to be somewhere.."

"It is your choice, then." It had paused, as if making sure, then.. "Gryffindor!"

She had staggered to the table as if in a daze, and been pulled into a seat between two total strangers. Her friends had all either stared at her in shock, or studiously looked somewhere else. If they had only known what she had just done..