𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 || H.P

𝟓𝟔

Black ink stained my hands. I've scribbled, slept, possibly even cried on this one page in the sketchbook which now seemed not to be a rain drop, but rather a face. Maybe this new art form was intentional, I didn't remember.

Two hours passed and the train started to quiet down. Someone knocked.

"Erm, Alicia Shallow?"

My blotched hands reached for the divider to let in the small, childlike voice. I reckoned she'd be in her second year, with her petite figure and big eyes. Well, the big eyes may have been because of the frightened expression on her face. "You have been asked to report to the prefects' compartment..."

"Right." I sat up. "Of course." And smiled to lessen her stress. It did not work.

The train, suddenly, started screeching to a halt. I gulped and hoped it would be an excuse not to have an encounter with other house leaders, but it may have been worse than that. I readied my wand and sat back down. "You may want to get out of the isle," I said to the girl.

She blinked at me for a moment, then looked down the hall. I may have been crazy, but her big saucer eyes widened even more before she scurried into the compartment.

It was in the matter of seconds when the ruckus started. Doors opened and shut as people murmured anxiously.

"What is your name?" I asked her, trying to take her eyes away from the door.

She looked down at the table and said, very quietly, "Harper."

I smiled again. "It's nice to meet you Harper. How old are you?"

"Eleven."

Not even second year.

And my mind was brought back to the orders given outside. Masked men.

"Did you draw that?" Harper was looking at the splotchy mess in my sketchbook.

It was almost embarrassing to admit. I'm not that terrible at drawing... "I did."

"I like it." Her voice was perkier now and I noticed a hint of an Irish accent. "...What is it?"

I gazed down at the picture. A pair of eyes, a nose, maybe? It was all surrounded in a cloud of black. "I'm not too sure."

She looked at me, then back at the picture. "Did you draw yourself?"

Was that an insult?

"I reckon it shows emotions. Like you don't really know how to feel, so you're stuck between sad, happy, angry, all of them, really."

My lips were left ajar unknowingly. How could she possibly decipher something so flawlessly? "You're a very bright girl, Harper."

"Thank you! I like to think so." She flushed and shrank back into the seat.

Another slam of a door rattled the compartment. The train hadn't moved for a good ten minutes now. "Strip the lot! Find him!" A man yelled.

I gripped my wand tighter.

"He's not here, you fools!" A boy shouts.

There was a loud thump and doors continued to slam.

I glanced at Harper who was focused on the isle once again. "Stay in here. Don't leave. I'll be back, alright?"

The hall became foggy while dark wizards approached, and paused as I fronted them. "You heard him." I held my wand out, trying to identify the two wizards. "Harry Potter isn't here."

"Why, you would know, wouldn't you?" The man took off his mask, and surprisingly, I had no idea who it was. "Alicia Shallow." He chuckled lowly.

On my side, a brown haired boy was sprawled underneath a window, rubbing his shoulder. Ginny, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan stood next to him.

The man grumbled, "c'mon lads, we've got our bait!"

I pointed my wand at the numerous other death eaters appearing behind him. The inched near me, and I shifted away from their grasp.

"Don't be difficult, girl. We'll get you for a good price."

"From who? My father?" I swatted away one of their hands'. "I'll have you know, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. The last time I checked, you work for the Dark Lord, and I am really of no value to him, am I?"

He looked at me quizzically.

"For the third time, Harry Potter isn't here. And imagine how your master will react when he sees that you're wasting your time to find him on a silly missing girl's case. Get lost."
-

"Let the sorting commence."

It was strange enough not seeing Dumbledore high on his platform. It was even even more strange seeing Snape in his place. That lucky bastard.

Poor McGonagall has to sit through this with a straight face knowing the platform is rightfully hers.

The hall was darkened and the candles were coated with the old wax from the years prior. There was no show of hospitality, and if I didn't know better, I would have thought I was seated in the manor.

"Shallow. Quite surprised you decided to turn up considering all the scenes your little scarhead has caused!"

I didn't need to look at him to recognize Theordore's voice, nor did I Zabini's laugh. So I didn't, and I watched as the first years walked up one by one with shaky feet.

"Alicia Shallow."

The steps were gold and shiny. Every candle was lit, and every window brought starlight into the hall.

"Go on, Miss Shallow."

I waited patiently on the stool. The sorting hat shuffled around my hair, making quiet noises, as if conflicted.

All of my friends were sorted in an instant! Why is this taking so long? What if... what if..

"I am supposed to believe you are a Shallow?" The hat spoke, but it felt like it was all in my head.

"That is my name," I whispered, hoping no one could here this odd conversation.

"Oh, your mind so pure, but heart so full of dedication. Ambitious, yes. Cunning... remind me of your name?"

"Alicia Shallow."

"Very well, then," and it was the last sentence inside my head before it spoke out loud. "Slytherin!"

"Harper Cresswell."

The little girl tentatively climbed the stool. Her feet didn't even touch the ground.

"Ah, yes," the sorting hat hummed. "Cresswell. Very witty, indeed. Kind. Caring. But, intelligent. Better be... Ravenclaw!"

There were minimal claps from the crowd, which I now realized was much less dense than it should have been. Purebloods and halfbloods were obligated to return, but I had no idea how little that would be.

Zabini stretched his arms out. "Heard Cresswell's father works with goblins. Managed to keep his job throughout it all, being a mudblood..."

"You keep your mouth shut about them!"

The slytherins around me went silent.

"And the lion cub speaks." Parkinson stared down at her nails, picking at the edges.

Zabini and Nott gave each other a look. It took me all of my might not to take their eyes out with a spoon. Daphne, on the other side of Theodore, bounced her leg rapidly, looking down at our empty dinner plates.

And the plates stayed empty. At the end of the sorting, Snape gave a aloof farewell and sent us off with empty stomachs.

I decided to let the Head Boy, who was a Hufflepuff—unknown to me— take over all of my rounds that night. I fell asleep restlessly in my robes, hoping to find some form of peace in the year to come.