The Language of Flowers | Fred Weasley

2: W A T E R L I L Y - eloquence

I watched the Sorting with rapt attention. I was always dumbfounded with how the magic worked. How the hat manage to find exactly which house each child would do best in, or how did it deciphers through our thoughts? Of course, the obvious answer is Legilimency, but to eleven-year-old me, it was amazing how the hat managed to worm its way through the shields blocking my mind from anyone else. The Sorting hat had such a powerful magic that it could get through an Occlumens defenses, or at least an inexperienced Occlumen's. I wonder what would happen if I put the hat on today. Would I get the same house? Would the Sorting Hat still get past my defenses?

Only seven first years had been sorted into Gryffindor, an all time low for my time here. Most of the first years sat there quietly, or just stared outright at Harry Potter as if he had wings, but I assumed Harry was used to it by now. Harry, because of his interactions with death, got more attention than anyone I knew.

Hermione, a fourth year student who would hang out with us when her friends were busy, and María were deep in conversation across from me while everyone else was jumping between conversations as if it was a game. Joanna seemed to be the loudest one, throwing insults back and forth with the Weasley twins over the heads of everyone at the table. The energy in the room was just altogether cheery. Even the teachers were talking to each other in small groups with great enthusiasm. Dumbledore looked extremely happy, his eyes wandering over all the students, from his seat at the table.

Dinner went smoothly, everyone devouring their food as if they had been starved. The train ride took a lot out of people it seemed.

When Dumbledore began his speech, I automatically tuned him out. His speeches were the same every year, so instead of wasting away listening to him ramble, I picked apart a bread bun.

Within a minute, Adhera bumped my arm hard, and I looked up, surprised. She mouthed an apology before gesturing towards Dumbledore. "...continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts--" Dumbledore was cut off swiftly by the opening of the doors of the Great Hall. The doors hit the wall with a bang as an older man entered the Great Hall. I started, the sound of the bang echoing around the room. The sound was so unexpected that one kid even screamed out loud.

He was the strangest man I had ever seen. The man looked as if he had not seen a shower since before I was born. His hair was long and greasy, his face scarred so badly that I winced. His eyes were by far the strangest part. One was a magic eye, judging by the way it moved around the room without blinking. I looked away the second the eye turned in my direction. The man limped towards the teacher's table, his loud cane clunking against the ground. Dumbledore's face was contorted into what could only be irritation as the man took his time to get up to the teachers' table. This just got really interesting.

The strange man's eye bounced over the students and found itself stuck on the sea of red Gryffindors for a moment before he turned back towards Dumbledore. He sat down at the teacher's table without a word, everyone observing him quietly.

Some of the first years looked like they were about to cry, and I fought the urge to laugh at the whole ridiculousness of the situation. This school always had a way to make people want to both laugh and cry.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, Professor Moody." Dumbledore announced. He was greeted by silence, except for Hagrid, who clapped loudly.

Harry began muttering to Ron, who was still somehow eating. Whatever Harry said, it must have been important because Ron practically spits out his food. I raised an eyebrow at the two, which made Harry smile cheekily at me before turning back to Dumbledore.