A Daughter Of Death

The Sorting Ceremony

An anxious Harry stood with the gaggle of eleven year olds waiting nervously for Professor McGonagall to return and the sorting ceremony to begin. His whirlpool of worried thoughts were interrupted with a jolt by several people behind him screaming.
'What the - ?'
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall.

'Well I never,' a cold voice silenced the chatter. Harry looked over to the edge of the group where a horrible ghost loomed, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood.
'It's like seeing a ghost,' the man laughed mirthlessly. Harry turned his attention to whom the silver figure was addressing.
The girl from the train - Emmy - stood before the ghost, Malfoy at her side once more. She smiled a little, any hint of unease masked.
'Lady,' the bloody baron bowed, Emmy in turn inclined her head glancing at the on looking group.

'Move along now,' said a sharp voice, cutting through the silence. 'The sorting ceremony's about to start.'
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
'Now form a line,' Professor McGonagall told the first-years, 'and follow me.'
With that, Harry Potter entered the Great Hall for the first time.

The group of first years stood before the dais staring at the sorting hat. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,'she said. 'Abbot, Hannah!'
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -
'HUFFLEPUFF!' Shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
This same process was repeated for three other students, two of which were sorted into Ravenclaw and the other Hufflepuff.
Harry had begun to feel more at ease when Professor McGonagall's shrewd voice rang out across the hall once more.
'Black, Emilie!'
It took Harry a few moments to realise that it was the girl from the train that Draco had called Emmy who stepped forward.
A murmur went through the hall as beside him Ron let out a small gasp.
'Oh!' He whispered.
Harry had a feeling he would have to get used to having no clue what was going on.
'Oh what?'
'Black!' Ron muttered more to himself than Harry.
'She's a Black,' seeing the blank look on Harry's face, Ron clarified in a mildly mocking tone, 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'
Harry could feel his head beginning to hurt.
'They're one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain. Deatheaters the lot of them - or were - my dad said they're all either dead or locked up in prison.'

'She'll be slytherin for sure. No wonder she was with Malfoy!' Ron continued but Harry was only half listening. He watched as the girl ascended the dais, head held high. She didn't falter like the other students as she turned, sitting elegantly on the stool and Harry looked at her properly for the first time.
Her mass of black hair fell in ringlets just above her waist, crowning her head in darkness. A thousand candles illuminated her pale skin which unlike Malfoy's was adorned with a rosy flush. Her large grey eyes looked down on the hall challenging all those who whispered. Her robes were neatly arranged around a necklace of some sorts which glimmered in the candle light. Not a hair was out of place and yet Harry couldn't help but feel he was looking at some wild being. Perhaps it was the storm in her eyes but Harry thought that he would have known - even before Hagrid told him about magic - there was no denying that the girl before him was a witch.