My Heart Remembers Differently

THIS ONE THING CONFUSES...

The Great Hall is once more filled with returning students and the Sorting Hat has already sang its song about moving past the battle and into the future.  The tiny First Years look around with fear at the group of Slytherins and craned their necks to get a look at the Gryffindor table where Harry Potter is sitting and watching the sorting with little interest, though he is trying to stay alert.  It is one of the first times I am not sitting with Harry and Ron at the table.  Both of them nodded politely, but chose the opposite end of the table.  Of course, others who know us are speculating why the "Golden Trio" is not together like normal.  I am speculating that, myself. 

I sit beside a fourth year who I have never met and she keeps sneaking peeks at me like I am muggle Queen of the land.  I force myself not to look back at Harry and Ron where they are sitting together like old times, and I remind myself that I am Head Girl.  I will not fall prey to any of their schemes this year.  I have one school year to decide where I want to work, or if I want to search for my parents.  One year should seem like a long time, but it seems like so little time to me.  I feel someone looking at me and glance over at the Slytherin table and see Malfoy glare at me.  Ahhh, somethings remain the same.  I suppose our truce, if that is indeed what happened this morning, is only acknowledged when we are alone in our shared common room.  Sounds reasonable to me.  I don't want to deal with the rumors that will fly if we are seen being nice to one another. 

I look back to the sorting activities.  A small chubby faced little boy completely collapses in a state of tears when the sorting hat announces him a Slytherin.  I am close enough to hear him sobbing that he doesn't want to be a Death Eater.  A few chuckles come from the other houses, but the once great Slytherin is quiet, and their faces showing no sign of emotion save the cold anger in some of their eyes. 

Professor McGonagall looks on with a pursed mouth that shows her disapproval with the young wizard's emotional break-down.  Professor Sprout who has taken the place McGonagall has held all these years as the professor in charge of the sorting looks worriedly at the headmistress.  For the first time in my years of Hogwarts the sorting stops and our new headmistress takes the podium and her gaze rakes over the first years causing them to quake in their new robes, and then she silences the conversation with a fierce look at the rest of the students before speaking.  Silence happens almost immediately.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a wonderful reputation for educating some of the most gifted witches and wizards of all time."  Professor McGonagall began.  "We suffered amazing devastation over the past year.  From the unfortunate reign of Voldemort," several people gasped at the sound of his name and I heard a few soft cries of fear.  McGonagall's eyes seemed to pierce any who would dare be afraid of a dead man.  "From the unfortunate reign of Voldemort to the battle that was won here, we have suffered many losses and have many regrets."  Her eyes looked over the faces of the students.  I wondered if she saw the pain of loss from those who had suffered the loss of friends, family and the pain of torture that Voldemort's followers put them through.  Did she see the determination of rebuilding from the ashes another type of legacy that I had witnessed in Malfoy's eyes earlier that day?  "Hogwarts has rebuilt itself.  From the very magic that flows through the stones, it saw a need to rebuild what was torn down and crushed to something stronger and more solid.  We, as the staff and the students of Hogwarts have the chance to do that very same thing.  What happened last year happened.  The sacrifices and the losses are not forgotten, but I urge you to make those lives that were lost and those dreams that were shattered mean something.  We will rebuild this great school.  Our four Houses were founded by the greatest witches and wizards of their age.  We will honor their greatness by understanding that each house is still a family that, should you be chosen to join that house by the sorting hat, is an honor for you.  This year we will not have house competitions.  Anything you do wrong will count against your academic career and reports will be sent to your parents or guardian.  Each student will have a point system located in my office.  I will be overseeing the welfare of each student along with your professors.  Now, it is up to you alone as an individual to make something of yourself here at Hogwarts.  Don't disappoint yourself.  Professor Sprout, if you please."  Professor McGonagall nodded towards the sorting hat and then took her place in the chair that Dumbledore had occupied for years.