Snake of Slytherin - Lucius Malfoy/Draco Malfoy

14

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Lucy fidgeted nervously and tucked a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear, a habit she picked up from her first year twenty years ago. Whether McGonagall noticed or not, she gave no sign. Harry, the boy she met on the train ride, nudged her shoulder in a friendly gesture. The two had immediately gotten along on the ride, talking about their favorite Muggle sports and whether the best students are those who never pay attention in class.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

Lucy's face paled even further. Now Draco noticed. He frowned. "You okay, there, Potter?" He whispered and she nodded faintly. His frown deepened and he was about to say something else but changed his mind.

Lucy gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance--"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered. The Bloody Baron had spotted Lucy and his eyes narrowed in recognition. But just like the others, he didn't say anything. Perhaps it was her daughter, he thought.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Here we go again, Lucy thought once again and she followed behind Draco who strutted into the Dining Hall just like his father once did. Lucy mirrored his foot pattern and held her head up high, meeting the teachers' eyes one by one (Professor Snape let out a cough that hid his smile).

Then, the Sorting Hat sang its song: "Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"What do you reckon you'll get into?" Hermione, another first year next to Lucy whispered to her.

"I honestly don't know." Pray tell she doesn't get into Slytherin. It would only cause more suspicion amongst the teachers.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause --

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Lucy waved at her and she waved back from the Gryffindor table.

After Potter, Harry, and the ruckus that caused--McGonagall went to call the next person and she faltered. It was quite obvious that she did. Her face paled. Lucy knew what she was thinking: ten years ago Lucy Potter Senior had died in an Death Eater Ambush--at least that's what everyone thought. Lucius Malfoy couldn't save her in time and she had died in his arms.

McGonagall's voice came out in a strangled whisper: "Potter, Lucy."