Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Eighteen: Caput Draconis

I took the Sorting Hat off my head with trembling hands as a tsunami of whispers suddenly swept through the room, shattering the silence which had fallen a few seconds prior. Looking desperately at Draco, I shakily got to my feet and walked over to the Gryffindor table. The whispers grew, and I now heard some of the things people were saying.

"A Malfoy, in Gryffindor?!"

"The hat must've made a mistake!"

"She's a Hatstall! You'd never've know by looking at her, would you?"

"I don't want someone like her in our house!"

"She doesn't belong here!"

I sat down next to Hermione, my face far paler than usual, my hair a stark white. Glancing up at the High Table, I saw that even the professors looked shocked.

Eventually, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had to hold his hand up for silence so the Sorting Ceremony could continue.

"Parkinson, Pansy" went to Slytherin, giving me a truly horrible look as she sat down. I barely noticed when "Potter, Harry" got sorted into Gryffindor and came to sit opposite me, or the cheering that happened when the hat yelled this out, a stark contrast to the whispers my sorting had been met with.

"Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw, "Weasley, Ronald" became a Gryffindor (he looked relieved, and I thought bitterly that at least some people had been sorted to somewhere that meant their parents wouldn't be angry with them), and "Zabini, Blaise" went to Slytherin, joining my brother with an all-too-serious face. Draco, I saw, still looked shaken.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll of parchment and took the Sorting Hat away as Albus Dumbledore got to his feet. He was beaming at us, arms opened wide, as if nothing could've pleased him more than to see us all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat back down, and everyone clapped and cheered.

I looked down and realised that the dishes in front of me were now piled with food, but I didn't feel like eating. Instead, I focused on turning my hair back to its natural colour — thankfully, the white had been so similar that nobody seemed to notice it changing — and then tried not to think about just how angry Father was going to be. Predictably, this didn't work in the slightest, and by the time the puddings had come and gone, I was so anxious that I had grabbed Hermione's hand under the table to try and calm myself, feeling like I might be sick at any moment.

Dumbledore got to his feet again, and the whole hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all students. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

His twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of two identical twins, who I thought were probably also Weasleys. There were an awful lot of them.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used in the corridors," Professor Dumbledore continued. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, but most just whispered anxiously to each other.

After singing the school song, which was highly ridiculous, and could be sung to any tune you wanted, Professor Dumbledore sent us off to bed. I let go of Hermione's hand and stood up, still a little shaky on my feet. Some people were still staring over at me and whispering, and as I glanced up at the High Table again, I noticed Professor Dumbledore surveying me with an interested expression.

I kept my head down as I followed the Prefect — another Weasley — with the rest of the Gryffindor first-years, through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. People in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as we passed, and twice we were led through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, some people starting to yawn, and I was just wondering how much further we had to go when we came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of us, and as the Prefect Weasley took a step towards them, they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," the Prefect Weasley whispered to us. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice and said, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at us, and we all ducked, some of us faster than others.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked the Prefect Weasley.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville Longbottom's head. I heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said the Prefect Weasley, as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him; he won't even listen to us Prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said the Prefect Weasley, and the portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.

We all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg-up — and found ourselves in a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs. This, I guessed, was the Gryffindor common room. My anxiety only worsened, and I had to put my hands into my pockets to stop them shaking.

The Prefect Weasley directed the boys through one door to their dormitory, and us girls through a door on the opposite side of the room. At the top of a spiral staircase — we were obviously in one of the towers — we found a room with a sign that said 'First-years', which contained six four-poster beds hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up.

We each claimed a bed — mine was in the corner next to the door, then the order went Hermione, Fay Dunbar, Sophie Roper, Parvati Patil, and finally Lavender Brown next to the door on the side opposite to mine. Then, none of us talking much, we all pulled on our pyjamas and got into bed. Fay and Sophie seemed to fall asleep almost at once, and Hermione not long after them, but Lavender and Parvati stayed up for a while, whispering. I caught snatches of their conversation, and realised they were talking about me.

Sighing quietly, I turned over, trying to force myself to stop thinking. And eventually, after hours and hours of tossing and turning, with anxiety still swirling inside me, I sunk into a nightmare-filled sleep.

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A/N: tysm for 2k reads!! 😊🖤

Word count: 1287