Dark

Chapter 1

Eleanor
Uncertainty.
That’s what I feel. Uncertain what to expect, uncertain what the future holds, uncertain how he’ll react. The news was a shock to me, completely unexpected. I had never known that there was an entire world out there to which I supposedly belonged but had never known of.
To think it was only two months ago that Albus Dumbledore walked up the steps of the orphanage to take me away. It wouldn’t be forever, and I knew that. But to have spent two glorious months far away from that horrid place was more than I could have ever dreamed of. To know that I wouldn’t have to return for another ten months was glorious, like basking in the bright sun after a cold night.
I’ve spent the previous two months being tutored in subjects that so shortly before now I had no idea existed. Spells and potions and flying brooms are no longer the content of fantasies, books, and movies. They are very real and very intriguing things. I’ve learned more than I could have ever dreamed of, and my love of reading was a huge help during this time. My excitement won out most nights and I stayed up until the early hours of morning absorbing as much information as I could.
I had hoped to be tutored by Dumbledore himself at some point, but that never came to fruition. Instead I spent my time in the company of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, Sprout, Binns, and Sinistra. They instructed me in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy respectively. According to Professor Snape, the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been exposed as a werewolf and had resigned his post. In the absence of a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was instructed by Snape. The hours spent in Snape’s company were not what I would call pleasant, but they were certainly instructive and I always walked away with something new in my mind.
Two days ago I sat my placement examinations. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous, because I was possibly more nervous than I had ever been in my life. Even so, I felt proud of what I had accomplished in such a short amount of time. Dumbledore had told me at the beginning of the summer that I may not be placed any higher than first year, it would all depend on what I could prove during my placement exams.
By the time my exams were completed, though, I felt confident and powerful. I could see the surprise on everyone’s faces as I demonstrated spells and potions that they had not expected me to be capable of. The looks they gave me said it all though, I had accomplished what no one else was likely to do. In a mere two months I had surpassed all expectations.
I knew then that I wouldn’t be joining the first years as the awkward older student. Still, I was surprised to learn that I had been approved to join the fourth year class. This was incredible and unheard of for two reasons: I had only been studying magic for two months, and if I had attended Hogwarts from the typical age of 11 I would only be going into my third year now. I had proved my abilities so well that I was completely skipping a year in what would have been my normal magical education.
So here I stand on the night of September 1st, awaiting the arrival of the other students. Tonight I will be sorted, and tonight I will finally be given a bed that will hopefully rival the one I’ve spent the past two months on in the hospital wing. Apparently you aren’t allowed into a common room without having been sorted, so I’ve had to wait until tonight.
I’ve read about Hogwarts and know of the different houses. But I don’t have a clue where I’ll be sorted. Hufflepuff seems the most unlikely, I’m too blunt for most people to consider nice. Ravenclaw holds a certain draw, especially after I pulled off the nearly impossible and got myself placed with the fourth years. Slytherin is intriguing to ponder, but apparently my family history would have me placed in Gryffindor. So all together, I’m not sure what to expect. Again, uncertainty.
A roll of thunder grabs my attention and I look up to one of the many windows lining the Great Hall. In its reflection I can see Albus Dumbledore standing next to me.
“Quite a night.” He says quietly, admiring the lightening outside the window, the rain splattering against the pane.
“Does he know about me? Does he know I’ll be here tonight?” I ask.
“Yes. I informed him a few days ago.” Dumbledore says simply. I can see his heard turn in the window’s reflection, but I wouldn’t have needed to see the turning of his head to know he was staring at me. I could practically feel his gaze x-raying me, prying into my thoughts.
“How did he react?” I keep my focus on my questions, not on my concerns. Dumbledore has no business reading my thoughts.
“I would say that he was confused, and uncertain.”
At this choice of words I turn my head to look at him, knowing that he’s prying inside my mind and reading my expression to find what he wants to know.
“Interesting choice of words.” Is all I can manage to say.
“They’ll be arriving in just a moment, if you could step into the next room Eleanor.” Dumbledore holds his arm out towards the side of the hall, indicating where I should go.
Without another word I withdraw to the side room, uncertainty and nervousness flooding my very being.

Harry
“Blimey,” Ron said, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, “if that keeps up the lake’s going to overflow. I’m soak – ARRGH!”
I look up to find Peeves hovering above us all, a red water filled balloon in his hand, ready to strike again. He releases the balloon and Ron staggers back, bumping into me, as the balloon narrowly missing Hermione.
“PEEVES!” Professor McGonagall angrily yells, “Peeves, come down here at ONCE!”
As McGonagall sweeps in to handle the situation, I move off toward to the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione.
“So, are you nervous?” Hermione asked me timidly.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I’m not sure how to feel about the impending situation. I’m still confused as to how it’s all possible. Dumbledore didn’t give me many details.
“To meet her…” Hermione said as we take our seats at the Gryffindor table.
“I’m not sure…I don’t really know what I expect, or what she’s expecting. I just…” I try to find the words, but all of the uncertainty seems to have formed a road block in my mind. I trailed off, unable to decide what I wanted to say and Hermione seems to have taken that as a cue to drop the subject.
In a matter of minutes the Great Hall has filled with students and Professor McGonagall is placing the patched Sorting Hat onto a small stool at the front of the Hall. A rip near the brim of the hat opens wide and the hat begins to speak.

A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Who names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravelclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own House, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the Bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I’ve never yet been wrong,
I’ll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!

I sat there confused as the rest of the school applauded the hat.
“That’s not the song it sang when it Sorted us,” I said.
“Sings a different one every year,” Ron said. “It’s got to be a pretty boring life, hasn’t it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one.”
I laughed at this with Ron. The doors of the Great Hall opened and I looked behind me to see the new first years walking in, drenched from the storm outside. My eyes gazed through the crowd of them making their way to the front of the Hall, but I couldn’t see the person I was looking for. Maybe she wouldn’t be coming in with them.
By the time the last first year was called to be seated, I was starving.
“Whitby, Kevin.” McGonagall called.
The boy stepped up anxiously to the stool and sat down before McGonagall placed the hat over his head.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” the Sorting Hat called. The boy jumped up and rushed excitedly toward the Hufflepuff table who were standing and applauding him.
“We have one final student to sort, though she will not be joining the first years. Will Eleanor, Potter please step up to the stool now.” McGonagall said.
I immediately heard the whispers begin.
“Potter?”
“Did she say Potter?”
“There isn’t another Potter, is there?”
Heads turned in my direction and I could feel the heat rising to my face as I turned away from them all to look back at Ron and Hermione. They were watching the front of the Hall intently, but I couldn’t bring myself to look up.
The whispers quickly died away and I could hear the scrape of the stool as it moved slightly when she took the seat. I clenched my eyes closed, suddenly sure that there had to be some sort of mistake. If she was what Dumbledore said, then I would have known before now, right? Everyone would have known. So how could it be true?
After a minute I realized that the hat still hadn’t made a decision and curiosity won out as I looked up to the front of the Hall. There she was. A wave of jet black hair draped over one shoulder, her eyes looking down as the hat sat on her head.
Was it struggling to sort her as it had struggled with me?
The moments lengthened and the tension built until it was nearly unbearable. That was when the rip in the hat finally opened again.
“SLYTHERIN!”
The entire hall was silent. No one clapped, no one cheered. Many of the students were staring at her, open mouthed, unbelieving.
No. There had to have been some sort of mistake. If it took so long to sort her, she must have made the decision in the end, just as I had. There was no way a Potter would choose to be in Slytherin. She couldn’t be my sister, Dumbledore had to be wrong.