Slow Grenade

Chapter Three

Crowded together at the front of the Great Hall, Hermione stood clustered among other similarly anxious looking peers. She listened as Professor McGonagall began reading from 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 moment's pause –

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Bones, Susan!"

Hermione's mind wandered as the process continued in a similar fashion. She gazed around the impressive hall taking in the floating candles, pearly-white ghosts, and velvety black star spattered ceiling. The peaceful moment was torn quickly away, however, as a voice pierced her brain.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Heart pounding and a swarm of butterflies in her stomach, Hermione took small steps towards the stool. Clutching at the rough sides, she lowered herself into seating position and awaited her fate.

The sorting hat was placed on her head and she heard it hum in consideration. "Well, well, what do we have here? Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. A clever mind too. You're incredibly loyal and, oh yes, a thirst to prove yourself; now that's interesting. So, where shall I put you?"

The edge of the stool was beginning to bite into Hermione's palms as she thought, "Gryffindor, please Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor, eh?" the small voice said into her ear. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, and Slytherin could help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall and she felt her heart leap. As the hat was lifted off her head it felt as though a different weight had also been taken from her shoulders. Her parents would be so proud of her, she thought, as she shakily made her way towards the Gryffindor table.

The rest of the sorting passed in a blur and only a few names stood out to Hermione.

"Malfoy, Draco," Professor McGonagall called.

With a slight swagger, Draco walked towards the stool and gracefully sat down as the hat was placed upon his head.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat yelled almost instantaneously. Draco smirked at the applause and strolled towards the tables dressed in green. No one noticed him glance towards the bushy brown haired girl with emotion swirling in his eyes.

She had looked towards him too, just moments previously. There was sadness in her features but also a resolution to fight whatever prejudices she had witnessed on the boat.

"Potter, Harry" and "Weasley, Ron" were now both sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table and she was surprised to find she felt pleased to have them near her.

With the sorting finished, Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!"

Hermione laughed happily with the rest of the Great Hall as the impressive, but wizened, old man gave the briefest of speeches and gave permission for them all to eat with a wave of his hand.

Hermione's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of her were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table.

As the Gryffindors ate their fill, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half and half," said a boy called Seamus Finnigan. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

Hermione considered this and, reflecting on her earlier conversation with Draco, wondered out loud, "What's a pure-blood?"

"It's a family who say they have no Muggles or Muggle-borns in their family," replied another boy Hermione had only just met, Neville she thought.

"So, what does it mean if both your parents are Muggles?"

Neville paused and Hermione noticed a few of the Gryffindors glance around awkwardly. "Well, nothing to us!"

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"Okay so some pure-blood families think those who are, erm, Muggle-born are..." he paused.

"Just tell me!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Sorry, they just think they're inferior, I guess. Like they aren't meant to have magic."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "That's ridiculous."

"Yeah, we know that," Neville nodded and others around him did the same.

She was about to say something else when Dumbledore got to his feet again. The 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."

Hermione wasn't able to listen to the rest of his reminders and encouragements as her mind spun. For all her prior reading, she hadn't realised that the wizarding world might be just as prejudiced as the one she grew up in.

Eventually she heard his speech end ("and now, bedtime. Off you trot!") and got up to follow the Gryffindor Prefect.

Hermione caught Draco's eye as they made their way out the Great Hall towards their respective dormitories. She gave him a small smile but, before she could turn away, she noticed the dark-haired girl from the train whisper something in his ear and laugh. Draco glanced at Hermione, suppressing his own smile.