Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Chapter 7

Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 7

A/N: This is going to be a running author's note, but if you read on fanfiction.net and enjoy this story, make sure to have my username saved in case my account is deleted. I post on AO3 and Wattpad as well under the same name.

We've got our official sorting now. Congrats to those of you that guessed where she would be going based on the title "Displaced Sorting."

Also, I did make a decision to change the look of one of the characters from the films—a ghost. This ghost was depicted as wearing a powdered wig which cursory research said didn't really become a thing until about 6-7 centuries after his passing. I know why the movie makers made the decision they did, but I'm going to stick with canon as it revolves around a years' long plot point.

September 1st, 1992

"SLYTHERIN!"

Was it her imagination or was she not the only one that gasped at the pronouncement? The hat lifted, and she caught sight of a pinched expression on McGonagall's face.

Was she as pale as McGonagall? Probably.

Ignis, sensing her distress, pressed himself into the base of her skull as she stood, but there was nothing he could do to help her. No one could.

Hermione moved on autopilot, unseeing as she walked in a daze, over to the far table, amid the deafening silence. None of the cheers or the boos that'd accompanied the Slytherin sortings sounded, and her footsteps seemed to reverberate up her spine and into the tall, charmed ceiling of the spacious hall.

She sat at the far end of the bench near the first years, unhearing of the speech Dumbledore gave before he clapped his hands and students began to tuck in to the food before them.

Those closest to her, sporting the same green and silver tie and trimmings as she now did, whispered among themselves, but none of them addressed her directly, and eventually, they too began to pile their plates with food.

Hermione woodenly scooped food from the dishes onto her plate without truly paying attention, which was probably how she ended up with two entrees and three vegetables. It was no matter. With the lead weight in her stomach, she wouldn't be able to eat.

At the end of the meal, no one had spoken a word to her, and she pulled from her stupor enough to glance up at the staff tables to see both Flitwick and McGonagall watching her, though Flitwick was doing a much better job of appearing unaffected while McGonagall looked at her with a mixture of pity and fear.

As students began to exit en masse, a handful of older students from each table stood and called for the first-year students.

Hermione bit her lip in indecision, but her thought process got tossed out the window when her neck prickled with unease.

She turned, jolting as she spotted the tall, vampiric potions professor. "Professor Snape!"

His brow rose, but no other expression crossed his features. That was okay. He made up for the lack of facial emotions by imbuing enough sarcasm into his words that they all but dripped with it. "Miss Granger. Despite passing your tests, you are still a first-time student at Hogwarts, and it's been brought to my attention that, as the Head of Slytherin, I should escort you to the dungeons."

After an initial fright over the word "dungeons" before recalling from Hogwarts: A History that the Slytherin common rooms were located there, Hermione's shoulders sagged as a huge weight lifted off her.