The Timekeeper | f. weasley

CHAPTER 05 | THE SORTING HAT

CHAPTER 05 | THE SORTING HAT

Boarding the Hogwarts Express wasn't as magical as Siobhan had hoped due to her trouble of falling asleep the night before. Whether it had been because of nerves or something else, Siobhan had woken up multiple times on the floor of Ginny's bedroom in a cold sweat. Luckily, she hadn't woken Ginny up. However, now Siobhan could barely keep her eyes open as she pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the window, feeling the rumbling of the train move over the tracks.

The dream had started with darkness. Cold permeated the air, chilling her down to the bone until she wished to curl up into a ball and sustain her body heat; and then she saw the Department of Mysteries, the many doors in the dark room, all which led to different spectacles. And like a glitch, she then stood in front of prophecy 97; the dust gathered on it, the milky blue substance swirling around inside it. It looked as how she had first found it; untouched.

Her hand was reaching for it suddenly, but then a voice--his voice, crept into her mind.

Look at you, little guardian. Doing the work for me, he crooned. How. . . . disappointed your family would be. A shame that they cannot be here to stop you from grabbing it. . . .

"No," she whispered. "I'm not like you."

Looking down at the sphere, she saw not her reflection, but two glowing, red eyes. And she would wake shivering, opening and closing her mouth as if contemplating to scream. 

Aboard the train, she slept the entire way to Hogwarts, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the compartment; their hushed voices lulling her to sleep.

When she woke up, much more rested now, she realized Hermione was shaking her awake.

"We're almost there, better put your robes on now," she said.

Siobhan nodded and grabbed her bag full of clothes and headed to the bathroom to change.

In the dinky little bathroom, Siobhan looked at herself in the black skirt and white collared shirt and tie, along with the long black cloak overtop. She wondered if her parents looked like this when they attended Hogwarts. Surely not, though, as even she could tell that the dark circles underneath her eyes weren't supposed to be there. They made her face appear gaunt and shallow, like she was nothing but a sliver of a soul wandering the earth. And perhaps she was.

She didn't fit into the timeline. She was meant to be eradicated, yet there she was, having broken fate. She could only hope that the boy that was in the prophecy was at Hogwarts.

Rain poured down on the students as they ran into the grand castle, their shoes tracking mud inside. Torches flickered shadows against the high walls inside the castle, illuminating the many levels above. Paintings held time capsules of scenes and people from history and various students dressed in the same black cloaks all hurried into the Great Hall, where four impossibly long tables were positioned and another shorter one was stationed in the back.

"First years come with me!" a voice called from the top of a stairwell. The woman wore a pointy hat and long dark robes, while her hair was pulled back in a tight, low bun.

"You should go tell McGonagall that you're new," Hermione urged.

The two boys nodded in agreement and Siobhan found herself walking the steps through the crowd of eleven and twelve year-olds that appeared so small in their cloaks. Quite taller than the first years, Siobhan caught the attention of McGonagall immediately.

The older witch peered at Siobhan through her spectacles. "And who must you be?"

"Siobhan. . . ." she hesitated to say her last name, but under the scrutinizing gaze of the witch, she said, "Siobhan Beorgana."