Finding the Magic (a Clexa hogwarts au)

Slytherin

Clarke's legs were shaky as she slipped off of the chair and started walking towards the Slytherin table. Students were pounding the tables and clapping, a sight Clarke never before thought she would see, at least not for herself. She managed to sink down into a seat just as she felt her legs give out. Her wide smile still present amid pats on the back and a few statements of welcome. Clarke's mind was still reeling in the realization that, for once, people wanted her. They were excited by the fact that she was joining them, not leaving them. 

While Clarke was lost in a sea of green, she nearly missed the sorting of the next student. She turned around just in time to see a tall boy with jet black hair shuffle over to the Ravenclaw table. 

He could have been my housemate, Clarke thought to herself. A dark shadow of doubt writhed in her mind. Did she choose the wrong house? Thoughts and doubts churned in Clarke's brain as she waited for the end of the ceremony. 

Eventually, Finn Collins was called to the front of the Great Hall. He sat down. Almost immediately, the hat declared him a Hufflepuff. His face flashed briefly to disappointment, and then he managed to smile a brave smile, worthy of his desired place in Gryffindor. His eyes met with Harper's, who sat at the Gryffindor table, an empty seat beside her. He turned his body and trudged towards the Hufflepuffs, who were cheering for him. Although most wouldn't notice, the usual spring in his step was absent. 

Well, the hat knows best.

With this thought, Clarke realized that there was a reason she was in this house. It wasn't for some stupid girl who probably didn't even like her, or even remember her name. It wasn't to rebel against her mother, who insisted she mustn't be in Slytherin. It was for her. Clarke was a Slytherin. 

Clarke watched as the final first year was called. She was short, with long, dark brown hair. It was the girl who had been with her brother at the station, and waved to him as they came into the Great Hall. Her name was Octavia Blake. Clarke noticed that she had her fingers crossed, barely visible under her robes that were slightly too big for her. After a dozen seconds, the hat announced she would be a Gryffindor, and the nervous looking girl breathed a sigh of relief and half-jogged toward her brother, who was waiting with open arms.

A man stood up and raised his arms. Students all throughout the Great Hall quieted. Even the first years, who may not know who the man was, sensed that they should honor the man's presence. He began to speak, his voice resounded throughout the room, as if soaring on great birds to reach even the farthest corners of the candlelit hall. His words were deliberately chosen, and each was spoken with care and dignity. He was the headmaster, and no one could deny he sounded like it.

"Welcome students. I hope you all had a pleasant summer. As the days get cooler, one knows that their year at school is nearing. I would like to welcome back all of our returning students, as well as congratulate our new prefects and our recently selected Head Boy and Girl. He gestured to a Ravenclaw boy and a Slytherin girl. They stood up to be acknowledged. Secondly, welcome to the first years as well. Some of you may have grown up with magic, and some may have only scratched the surface of what really lies in this hidden world. Together, I ask that everyone attempts to bring themselves and the school great honor in the year ahead. Now, everyone please turn their attention to Professor Indra, the head of Gryffindor house and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She has a few rules, new and old to discuss," the Headmaster sat down as a smattering of applause greeted him to his chair. 

A woman sitting at the Headmaster's right side stood up, Professor Indra. She stood straight, an air of pride seemed to radiate around her. Her short black hair stood in sharp contrast with the usual long, intricately done hairdos of some of the other teachers. Sharp eyes glanced around the room, scanning students, young and old. Her dark skin was laced with scars, although Clarke knew that she didn't plan on asking how she received them. She opened her mouth to speak, and the words that came out were slow and purposeful.