Suffer In Silence

The Sorting Ceremony

The sorting hat had just finished its song when Professor McGonagall ushered Cordelia Greyson to the stool it sat atop. Cordelia now stood, mortified, in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts staff and student body. And, Cordelia thought, upon spotting Nearly Headless Nick, residential apparitions. She knew, of course, that transferring from Durmstrang to Hogwarts meant she'd be sorted into one of its four Houses. Only she hadn't imagined the Sorting Ceremony would take place in the Great Hall with everyone watching. 

The Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor tables awaited eagerly, each pair of eyes watching Cordelia with a sort of hunger. She placed the hat on herself with shaky hands and sat on the stool. 

"Hmmm," murmured the sorting hat. "Oh yes, lots of kindness here, bravery too. Very intelligent girl, very witty indeed but what's– ahhh, I see. SLYTHERIN." 

Cordelia stood, stupefied. She hadn't given much thought to which House she belonged to. Though, she had to admit, Slytherin wasn't what she had in mind. She walked toward the cheering table half in a daze. Slytherin were cunning, cruel, and deceitful bastards — or so she'd heard. Whether it was true or not, the House name didn't seem to come with honor. Still, Cordelia accepted her seat at the table between a boy and a girl. 

The girl ignored Cordelia. The boy turned directly toward her. "Names Crabbe," he introduced himself. 

Not wanting to be rude, she shook his outstretched hand. "Cordelia," she replied curtly. “What year are you?" 

Crabbe responded that he was a 3rd year and so he and Cordelia carried on a short conversation in which the boy kept mentioning his friends: Goyle and Malfoy. None of the boys sounded very pleasant to Cordelia but, seeing as Crabbe was the only one trying to speak to her, she didn't object to the company. 

"Where are your friends now?" Cordelia asked. 

Crabbe shrugged. "Malfoy got attacked by a hippogriff earlier today, been in the infirmary wing ever since. Goyle's been with him, making sure he's not mistreated by that wretched nurse." 

At the ill-speaking of Madam Pomfrey, Cordelia tensed. When she arrived at Hogwarts the night before, an ear-splitting headache had formed. Cordelia fainted and came to in the infirmary with the Hogwarts healer by her side. Pomfrey took Cordelia's hand and assured the girl she would be better soon and Cordelia, who grew up without a loving family or anyone to take care of her, found the woman comforting. 

Whether or not Crabbe noticed Cordelia's uneasiness, he made no attempt to amend it. 

Cordelia was saved from the trouble of responding when a new voice broke through: "Speaking about me, are we?" The boy laughed with no humor. "No need to worry about the injury, my father had a real doctor tend to my wounds instead of that boorish Pomfrey. And that awful beast that attacked me is to be put down at once. Honestly, I can't believe they let Hagrid be responsible for a class. They ought to have known he'd be a rubbish teacher." 

Cordelia turned, ready to tell the boy what rubbish he was for speaking so awfully about others but the words died on her tongue. She remembered the first time she saw him. She had snuck out of the dormitory at Durmstrang to go for a night swim. When she got to the reflecting pool she looked in, expecting to see herself. Only it wasn’t Cordelia in the pool, it was a boy with platinum blond hair and eyes grey as stone. He stared back at her, moving when she moved. Cordelia was so terrified that she ran back to the castle and didn’t speak a word of what she saw to anyone. That is, until she saw him again and again.
 
“You’re-” Cordelia cut herself off. She was about to say “him” but that wouldn’t have made any sense to the boy. It surely would've earned her her own string of casually cruel insults.