Rating:
G
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Original Female Witch
Genres:
Character Sketch General
Era:
Children of Characters in the HP novels
Stats:
Published: 06/16/2008
Updated: 06/16/2008
Words: 1,035
Chapters: 1
Hits: 624

Another Malfoy, Another--?

Ravenpuff

Story Summary:
It's Lucia Malfoy's turn to put on the Sorting Hat. Malfoys have always been Slytherins--so why is the Hat's decision taking so long?

Chapter 01

Posted:
06/16/2008
Hits:
608


Another Malfoy, Another--What?

Only one person in the Great Hall seemed to notice as the small silver-haired girl approached the stool where the Sorting Hat stood waiting. The four house tables buzzed with excitement as, one by one, first-years took their places among their new housemates.

Lucia Malfoy didn't care whether anyone was paying attention. Her older brother, Scorpius, had told her all about the Sorting, and she knew what to expect. Of course, she was pretty sure he'd been fibbing when he told her the Hat loved to taunt and insult first-years, especially girls.

She sat down and placed the Hat--which was every bit as old and smelly as Scorpius had said it was--on her head. It slipped down to cover her eyes, which was just as well. She knew Scorpius would be staring at her until the Hat made its decision, and she didn't want to be distracted.

For what seemed like ages, the Hat said nothing. Not a word. That was surprising, but Lucia waited patiently.

"Hmmmm," a voice said at last. "Interesting--very interesting indeed."

This wasn't what Lucia had expected. Scorpius had told her that the Hat shouted 'Slytherin' the moment he put it on.

"Is that what you want me to do?" The Hat sounded amused.

"Erm--no, sorry. Of course, you should take however long you need to. It's your decision, after all."

"Is it?" The Hat's tone was teasing. "Well, at any rate, you seem to have some manners. Not true of all young people today, I assure you."

Lucia waited, and after a brief pause the Hat continued.

"Now, with your brother," it went on, "the decision was simple. Slytherin through and through. But you--you're a horse of another color."

The expression was unfamiliar, and Lucia couldn't help asking, "What color?"

The Hat laughed. "That was funny, little one--though I'm not sure you meant it to be. You remind me a bit of Miss Granger--that's Rose and Hugo Weasley's mother, you know. She tended to be literal-minded, too. She was a Gryffindor. Would you like to be a Gryffindor?"

Lucia's immediate thought was 'No! Of course not!' but then she stopped herself. Did she really mean that? She could barely remember her father, but her mother made slurring reference to the Slytherins' rival house all the time. "Ah, but you're not your mother, are you?" said the Hat. He certainly seemed to be in no hurry to classify Miss Malfoy, and through the cloth that covered her ears, she could tell that a hush had fallen over the Great Hall. Sortings rarely took more than a few seconds, and when they did . . . Something interesting must be happening.

Lucia was glad she couldn't see her brother's face.

"No, Mr. Hat, I'm nobody but me," she said. "I don't know what that means, exactly, but I'm quite sure it's true."

"I see," mused the Hat. "An individualist, then. We can probably rule out Hufflepuff. We are making some progress, but there's a line of students waiting impatiently for their Sorting and their dinner. So, let us proceed, shall we? Why don't you tell me something about yourself--something that makes you unique."

Lucia thought that 'unique' might be stretching it, but she tried to think of something.

"Well, for one thing, I like writing stories."

"Ah, I see," said the Hat. "What sorts of stories?"

"Mostly, they're about a handsome prince who leaves his wife and children and disappears one day. They're about his adventures while he's away, and theirs while they wait for him to return."

"i see." The Hat sounded thoughtful. "These are true stories, are they?"

Lucia was startled. How could the Hat possibly know--?

"Parts of them are true," she said. "Parts of them, I have to make up, because I don't know the facts."

"Ah. Creativity and imagination,: Ravenclaw traits. Tell, me, girl, do you dream of being a famous writer?"

Lucia thought. "Yes," she said finally. "I suppose I do. Once in a while, anyway, when I'm being silly."

"I wouldn't call a desire for for renown silly, Miss Malfoy. It's a classic Slytherin quality. Now tell me this--how do you feel about being Sorted? Are you anxious about my decision? Worried how your family might react if I do not sort you into Slytherin, for instance?"

Again, Lucia considered. "No, I don't believe I am. I'm sure you wouldn't put me in a house where I would be unhappy or do poorly."

"Very flattering, indeed," the Hat chuckled. "But now, it's time to fish or cut bait."

Lucia had never heard this expression, either, but she had no trouble figuring out what it meant.

"Would you like to express a preference?" the Hat asked. "That's allowed, you know. Last chance."

It was a temptation, but what would she say? Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, and she didn't think she was a coward. Hufflepuffs got along with everyone and worked hard; she was not lazy, and she seemed to get along fine with other the people she knew. Ravenclaws were clever and loved learning. Slytherins strove for power, and more important, everyone in her family had been a Slytherin forever.

"No, sir, I think you should make the decision. It's your job, and I trust you."

"Very well, then--here goes." And at long last, the Hat shouted out the name of a Lucia's new house.

The Hall was buzzing once more as she removed the Hat and placed it carefully on the stool. She was aware that all eyes were upon her, but she did not care. She smiled ruefully at the boy who'd been forced to wait in line for so long and began the long walk toward her new house table.

As she passed the Slytherins, she looked Scorpius straight in the eye. His face was red, and his mouth was compressed in a thin line. He looked almst ready to cry.

Well, she was sorry, but she, Lucia Malfoy, wasn't her brother, or her mother, or her father, or her grandparents either. She was who she was--unique, as the Sorting Hat had said.

Smiling, she joined her new housemates under a banner of bronze and blue.

The End