Leo et Serpentia

Disclaimer: The plot (and Malfoy’s big toe) all belong to me. The rest is JK’s!

CHAPTER TWO: Of Sortings and Slytherins

    Eventually Hermione appeared to reclaim Riley – but not until after the Weasley twins and Lee had told her how to get into the kitchens, explained (in detail) the way into Hogsmeade by way of the one-eyed humpbacked witch, and described the many uses of the Ton-Tongue Toffee.

    Riley, Hermione, Harry and Ron had a good deal of fun on the trip to Hogwarts. They debated loudly the use of Quidditch tactics and various Muggle movies. Occasionally they were joined by Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, and the Weasley twins. Once or twice Justin Finch-Fletchley – a Hufflepuff Sixth Year – entered looking for one person or another, all the while gazing at Hermione admiringly.

    The Hogwarts welcoming feast was incredible, as usual. Unfortunately, Riley was unable to attend. She had other things to do.

*    *    *

    Riley sat nervously in Professor Dumbledore’s office. The plan Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had worked out was supposedly to prevent her from the embarrassment of being the only Fifth Year Sorted. She was to wait in Dumbledore’s office until one of the teachers appeared with the Sorting Hat.

    An unexpected noise made Riley turn around quickly. There stood Professor McGonagall, looking unusually disheveled and flustered.

    “Good day, Miss O’Connor – apologize for the delay – Dumbledore’s got his hands full – gone and blown up a toilet, they have –“

    “Who – oh, don’t tell me. It was Fred and George, wasn’t it?”

    “It was indeed those Weasleys. Not a bad lot, mind – they just tend to pull some pranks. Think they’re funny, they do.” McGonagall was clearly less than amused. At least she seemed to be calming down.

    The door to the Headmaster’s office opened once more, and there stood Albus Dumbledore himself. The tall, elderly wizard with twinkling eyes held a ratty-looking mess of patchwork that Riley assumed was the Sorting Hat.

    Dumbledore set the hat upon his desk. “Welcome, Miss O’Connor, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I trust that you have been comfortable thus far?” Riley nodded. Dumbledore smiled in response. “I am pleased to hear it. And now: the Sorting.” Dumbledore took the hat and placed it on her head.

    “Tee hee hee . . . what have we here?” said a little voice inside her mind. “Very brilliant, oh, yes indeed. Perseverance, ambition, oh my goodness! You’ve got what it takes, my girl! Now, where shall I put you?” Riley closed her eyes and waited.

    “Well, would you look at that?” The hat seemed almost astonished. “So much courage for such a small girl. My dear, I do believe you’ve got the makings of a GRYFFINDOR!” The Headmaster’s office shook with the hat’s thunderous roar.

    “Well done, Miss O’Connor,” said Dumbledore, smiling. Professor McGonagall looked pleased as well. “I will have Minerva take you up to your dormitories. She is your Head of House and will be here if you have any questions.”

    “Come along, Miss O’Connor.” McGonagall and Riley left Dumbledore’s office.

*    *    *

McGonagall led Riley through the twisting, winding hallways of Hogwarts, finally stopping in front of a portrait depicting a woman in a voluminous pink dress.

“Password?” said the Fat Lady.

    “Oh . . .” Professor McGonagall sighed. “Callidus Ficus.” The Fat Lady’s portrait swung forward. The two stepped into a room with cheery, crackling fires surrounded by couches. Red and gold curtains adorned the windows.

    “Welcome to the Gryffindor common room,” said Professor McGonagall. “Your trunk has been taken to the Fifth Year girls’ dormitory. You’ll need to change out of your Muggle clothes and into your school uniform, as well.” Suddenly McGonagall noticed Riley’s green Carolina Craze Quidditch jersey. “Oh, do you play Quidditch?” she asked with a note of excitement in her voice.

    “Yeah. Two time all-American, since I was twelve.”

    “What position?”

    “Keeper and sometimes Beater. Mostly Keeper, though.”

    “Splendid!” McGonagall actually smiled. “Our Keeper graduated two years ago. Since we had the TriWizard Tournament at Hogwarts last year, there was no need for the Quidditch Cup to take place. We’re having tryouts for a Keeper and a Chaser. The Gryffindor team would appreciate it if you would consider.”

    “I’ll be there,” Riley promised. After McGonagall left, Riley climbed the winding staircase to the girls’ dormitories. There were four beds for the Gryffindor Fifth Year girls. At the foot of one was her trunk. A package lay innocently on top her bed. Riley smiled and opened the parcel to reveal her Hogwarts uniform: a white long-sleeved polo, a mid- thigh length maroon plaid skirt, a gold-and-maroon striped tie, a winter scarf of the same color scheme, and black witch’s robes. Riley dressed quickly and went down to the common to await the return of the other Gryffindors.

    The first to arrive were Fred and George Weasley. They blew in the door, looking like the devil (or at least McGonagall) was on their heels.

    Riley laughed. “Are you two all right? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!”

    “Close,” George said, wheezing.

    “Poltergeist, actually,” panted Fred. “Peeves ratted on us. Told Filch we were going to blow up the toilets.”

    “And did you?”

    “No!” said George, miffed. “And now we have to wait at least a month to try again, because Filch will be guarding the bathroom door!”

    Hermione, who had just entered, interrupted George’s rant. “You shouldn’t be blowing up toilets anyway,” she said sternly. “Fred – George – really, no wonder your mum always looks so peeved.”

    “Oh, that’s nothing,” Fred laughed. “Did you hear about the time –”

    “Fred, knock it off,” Ron said as he, Harry, Neville, and Seamus climbed through the portrait hole. Dean Thomas was close behind them.

    “Hey, aren’t you on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?” Riley asked Harry. He had just plopped down on Fred and George’s couch. The twins were being soundly lectured by Hermione.

    “Yeah,” Harry replied. “Fred and George are Beaters. I’m Seeker. Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell – she’s Gryffindor Captain – are Chasers.”

    “And you guys are having Keeper and Chaser tryouts?”

    “Yeah. How’d you hear?”

    “McGonagall told me.”

    “Ah.” He nodded. “So you play . . . ?”

    “Keeper.”

    Ron sized her up. “You’re kind of small,” he remarked.

    “You’re kind of redheaded,” she replied in an imitation of Ron’s tone of voice. “Being huge and menacing isn’t the principle of the thing, anyway. I can still complete a Double Eight Loop in under ten seconds – that’s probably a heck of a lot more than you can take credit for.”

    Ron’s ears turned a lovely shade of strawberry. “So,” he said, turning to Harry quickly, “What’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

    “Ooh, look, ickle Ronniekins’ ears are pink,” George mock-whispered. Ron pretended not to hear him, but his ears had become completely indistinguishable from his flaming hair. Lavender giggled.

    “Well,” Harry consulted the parchment, “We have Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Divination in the morning, and Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon.”

    “Mmm.” Ron nodded. “How about Monday?”

    “Monday . . .” Harry ran his finger down the page, then grimaced.

    “What?”

    “Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic, then double Potions . . . with the Slytherins.”

    “Again?” said Hermione in disbelief. “It’s not enough that we’ve had them the past four years, they have to be in our Potions class again?”

    “Not only that,” Harry murmured, “They’re our Care of Magical Creatures partners, too.”

    “Will it never end?” a distressed Seamus asked the ceiling.

    “Excuse my ignorance, but what’s so bad about the Slytherins?” Every Gryffindor head in the common room turned to stare directly at her.

    “What’s so bad about the Slytherins?” repeated Fred in a shaky voice. “What do you mean, what’s so bad about the Slytherins? Isn’t it obvious?”

    Riley shrugged. “All you ever do is complain about them. What have they done that’s so wrong?”

    Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks. “I think you’d better tell this one, George.”

    George was completely nonplussed. “Um – yeah. Okay. So, it all started with this Dark Wizard bloke called You-Know-Who.”

    “Voldemort,” Harry said irritably.

    “Er, right,” George continued uneasily. “Well, in his day and age, he turned all these people to the Dark Arts. There wasn’t a single wizard that went bad that wasn’t in Slytherin.”

    “Yeah, and with Slytherins like that Draco Malfoy, no wonder they have such a bad reputation,” piped Lavender.

    “Draco Malfoy?” Riley looked quizzically at the twins. “Is he –” George nodded sharply. “Ah.”

    “And that is why under no circumstances does any sane Gryffindor fraternize with a Slytherin.”

    “Because they’re prats,” finished Ron.

    “I’ll try to remember that,” Riley said jokingly.

    All of them stared at her, dead serious. “Just be careful,” Fred said. “And if for any reason you get into a spot of trouble with anyone, never hesitate to ask for help. One Gryffindor always aids another.”

    “Still,” added George, “Steer clear of that Slytherin lot. They’re bound to be trouble.”