Forgotten

2 | The Sorting Hat

"Regulus Black!" Professor Dumbledore shouted. The boy in question walked with a blanket of panic covering his face. 'I am a Slytherin, I have to be a Slytherin' the voice in his mind was trying to convince him he was not. He wouldn't let it take control of him today. It was the wrong time to be weak, with the eyes of every student in school watching, it wasn't an option to run and hide. 

The young boy sat on the ancient wooden chair, the hat was placed on his head and it began to talk.

'Regulus Black, where shall I put you.' The voice echoed through the caverns of his brain, bouncing off of every little insecurity which lingered despite his desperate measures to eliminate

'Your mind is advanced, you would fit in nicely in Ravenclaw but I do not think that is for you.' He needed to be a slytherin, he could not allow the hat to jeopardise his life.

"SLYTHERIN!" He quickly stood up walking towards Evan and sitting in the seat next to him, as they watched through all the other new students until the moment they had been anticipating began.

"Arabella Rosier!" Evan was scared, more than he was on his first day. He knew what the punishments would be if she wasn't sorted into Slytherin. All he could do was hope that his sister would be lucky.

"SLYTHERIN!" It was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders. With every step she took towards her brother she felt more and more relieved. As she was walking she caught the eye of a boy sat at the Gryffindor table. He was sat with Sirius Black.

Arabella walked up the creaking stairs to her private dorm. She had been given her own room since all of the 2nd year dorms were full and they wouldn't allow her to stay with the 1st years. It was a small room. In the centre was a four poster bed, covered with green satin blankets and pillows. The walls were bare and a large wardrobe sat in the corner next to a black floor length mirror. It reminded her of her room at the Rosier Manor, but this was different.

The air felt alive, there was no suffocating aromas or high pitched screams, the only sound that could be heard was the scratching of her quill against the parchment. Each and every word forming together to make something bigger. She had developed this habit, or as her mother said, flaw, when she was a young child. Whenever her emotions would bubble up and threaten to spill she would excuse herself to her room and she would write in a book. 

It was a book that originally had no words on the cover or the pages inside but now more than fifty of them were covered in her writing. Some pages were decorated with smudges and stains from tears, but others had scribbles or even holes from when her anger would overflow. She had since learnt to control such extreme emotions and never let things get that far but nobody was perfect, so why should she be?

On this day she was writing for the loss of something great because although she knew she needed the hat to sort her into Slytherin she had wished for change. She had wished for freedom and she knew that if she hadn't told the hat what would have become of her, her story would have been very different but that was not the case. 

Needing and wishing are two very different things. Polar opposites, some might even say.

 She needed to be put in Slytherin. She needed to be with her brother. She needed to make her parents satisfied. She needed to behave and obey.

She wished for her life. She wished for happiness. She wished to make her own decisions. She wished she could befriend good people. She wished for freedom.

For Arabella Rosier, wishes rarely came true. It was a once in a life time oppertunity and she had wasted it on something stupid, something silly. Something shameful that she would never have admitted to anyone, that was until something tragic took place that would have thrown her life off the tracks for good. She never would have come back.

Her one wish had been... catastrophic. 

Her mind awakened from sleep early in the morning. Her legs tangled in the satin sheets and a simple nightgown adorning her body. Hauling herself from the bed, she tiptoed towards the bathroom. The cold water cascaded down her back, startling her from her sleep-like state. With a towel wrapped around her body she leaned against the sink brushing her teeth, quickly washing her face and dressing herself in the mandatory uniform of a Slytherin student. The emerald greens complementing her tanned complexion.

She felt beautiful. No porcelain make-up staining her face and just being able to be herself. Like a goddess. 

It was only quarter to six when she wandered down the stairs, through the common room and out into the cool corridors of the dungeon. It was officially her fourth month of Hogwarts. Time had flown by. Slipping from her grasp as it got far too close to Christmas- far too close to seeing  her parents. She had mainly been keeping to herself, however sometimes she struggled to keep comments in. It was usually insulting but she just hoped her parents didn't know

Bella had quickly gotten used to the lay out of the school. She knew where all her classes were and she knew, mostly, how to get through the corridors to the quidditch pitch at a ridiculous time in the morning without being spotted by a teacher or another student. Her parents had forbidden her from joining the school team but she enjoyed it far to much not to play. So she compromised, she played basking in the sunrise. Nobody had caught her, yet.

Her robe fell from her body as she threw it aside onto an abandoned wooden bench, climbing onto the ancient broom. Her feet left the ground and in a matter of seconds she was in the sky, soaring through the air in circles of the pitch. The freezing wind against her face calming the anxiety pulsing through her veins. 

"ROSIER!?" A voice shouted, ringing through the air until it reached her. Everything froze, her broom slammed to a stop, almost sending her flying off and as she looked down at the culprit she saw him. The same boy who had been trying to get her attention all week. The boy who had been running after her around school and asking her if she was busy or even trying to talk to her brother. None of these option had ever gone very well for him.

"ROSIER! IS THAT YOU UP THERE!?" He wasn't going to shut up and she knew it would just get worse the longer she waited so she slowly descended, jumping off her broom as soon as she reached the floor and shoving her robes back onto her body, pulling the hood up to hide her face.

"What do you want Potter?" Her voice laced with venom, she knew it was unkind but it wasn't like she had a choice. If anyone saw her talking to him she would be killed, or worse she would be- well she didn't like to think about it. 

"Why are you out here by yourself at-" His eyes quickly flicked down to his wrist "-six in the morning?" 

"What does any of this have to do with you?" Obviously he had caught her but he could have just left her to fly in peace.

"Well, I was the one who caught you Arabella-" His voice was cut off by her own.

"Rosier, you call me Rosier or you don't call me anything at all." A smirk imbedded itself into his features, and his eyes lit up in amusement.

"Anyway Rosier, I was the one who caught you, and don't say you were just going for a stroll when it's obvious you were flying. May I add that you are as good as a bloody professional Quidditch player!" Quidditch, the only thing James loved more than himself.

"I wasn't doing anything, you didn't see anything and if you ever mention this to anyone," Her wand pressed under his chin, "you will regret it Potter. You have no idea what I'm capable of." 

"Oh I'm pretty sure some of them curses you've shot at me can demonstrate that. I will be seeing you later then, Arabella." With that he gave a quick bow and walked off back towards the school.