The doors creaked loudly as they opened to let a new generation of Hogwarts students into the Entrance Hall. I stood next to Professor Marchbanks, my smile stretched wide across my face. Never in my life had I been with more than three or four children. How wonderful this was going to be! It would completely make up for the previous two weeks, torturous as they were.
A damp bunch of eleven year olds was revealed as the doors opened. Water dripped from their black school robes, and I winced as the rain blew into the Entrance Hall. After two weeks of scrubbing it was almost tragic to see mud all over the shining floors.
Professor Marchbanks nodded her head briskly. The children piled into the hall, chatting excitedly. I stood off to one side, unsure of what to do. Should I introduce myself? Tell the students to please wipe their feet outside? But Professor Marchbanks spoke up before I was able to open my mouth.
“Students!” She didn’t need to raise her voice as silence fell instantly within the hall. I thought she winked at me, but I wasn’t sure as she turned to the mass of children. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor Marchbanks, and I will be teaching Transfiguration.” An excited whisper could be heard from the middle of the students, and from the look on Professor Marchbanks’ face I was not the only one who had heard it. “Silence!” She called, and then continued. “This is Cassandra Pralent.” She nodded at me, and I gave a grateful smile to her before turning to the students.
“Hello,” I said. My voice was no more than a whisper. I had never been very good at speaking in public places. “I’m Cassandra.”
“Why didn’t you ride the train with us?” The speaker was a tall girl with short, bobbed hair and shabby robes. Professor Marchbanks frowned as she began to explain.
“Miss Pralent is not a student here, Miss-” The professor had pulled a long scroll out of her robes and was studying it as the girl cut in.
“My name’s Alta.” Alta looked at me with disdain. “So why aren’t you a student here, Miss Cassandra?” Her voice was cold and mocking, and I couldn’t help but step backwards. What had happened to nice playmates? “It’s a valid question.” The girls standing around her giggled. I gulped.
“I’m assistant caretaker,” I whispered. Alta frowned.
“Sorry, Cassandra dear, didn’t catch that. Speak up, will you? I’m sure everybody else is just as curious.” The other students were all nodding and mumbling their agreement. My face burned.
“I’m assistant caretaker,” I said, this time loudly enough that the whole hall could hear me. Professor Marchbanks looked disturbed, but Alta was grinning from ear to ear as the students stared.
“Why are you doing that?” This time a boy from the back spoke, a red head with owlish glasses. He was smirking.
“Well, now, let’s all go into the Great Hall and get you sorted into houses,” Professor Marchbanks interrupted, looking flustered. But the boy’s smirk only widened.
“What? We’re all wondering it, I just said it,” muttered the boy. I wanted to disappear.
“I’m a squib,” I said, whispering again. But this time Alta caught it. She burst into laughter, and as she whispered it to her friends the whole lot of them began to giggle with glee. I stared down at my shoes.
“Enough!” Professor Marchbanks clapped her hands together. “Into the hall, all of you!” I stayed close on her heels as she shepherded the gossiping students into the hall. I couldn’t believe I had wanted to be friends with them. But I had always been reasonably well-liked by other children growing up. I had never been the favorite, but I’d had friends. What about Aera, and Guinevere? Christopher, Rebecca? Rowan? All friends growing up. Could it be that they didn’t like me? I only knew them because all of our parents were influential witches and wizards. Witches and wizards… it hit me. What if these students hated me because they spotted a squib? Maybe everybody except me could tell who was a squib just by looking at them!
I’m sure they’ll like me when we get to know each other, I reassured myself. Of course. The students were just nervous, that was all. It wasn’t because I was a squib. After all, I couldn’t help it. I was so sure.
The last student entered the Great Hall as I followed Professor Marchbanks through the doors. I gasped when I saw the Hall. When I had left it had been almost empty, containing only teachers. But now…
Students of all ages filled the tables, watching the first years with curiosity. They ranged from second years that didn’t look much older than I was to terrifying seventh years, looking bored with the whole affair. I glanced over the tables, looking for a familiar face. I found none, but my eyes fixed on a stool in the center of the Hall, upon which a battered looking hat sat. The entire Hall seemed to be staring at it, so I joined them as I decided the hat would go quite nicely in my rooms. It had the same battered air about it.
But with a tearing noise, the hat made me jump into the air with shock as a flap opened in the front of it, and it began to- sing? I watched with amazement.
Shocked that I can sing?
I am not just a hat.
I sing because I sort you,
(and am excellent, at that.)
Some of you will always be
For Hufflepuff, loyal and true,
Or maybe wise old Ravenclaw,
With colors grey and blue.
Perhaps the cunning Slytherin
If you are strong and sly,
Or Gryffindor, you don’t back down,
Instead, you’d rather die.
So step up to the stool, young one,
And as I conclude my song,
I feel the need to tell you
That I’ve never yet been wrong.
Applause echoed through the massive hall, and Professor Marchbanks stepped forward with a large scroll of parchment.
“Abrams, Alta!” she called, and the tall girl who had laughed at me stepped forward, her face a picture of smugness. As she sat on the stool that hat was placed on her head, and she sat tall and proud as the hat contemplated its decision.
“GRYFFINDOR!” it shouted, and I was shocked as Alta went to the Gryffindor table with pride reverberating in every footstep. Father always told me Gryffindor was a wonderful house, filled with wonderful people, like him. Alta hadn’t seemed very nice. Maybe she was really a good person underneath it all?
A few more people were called while I was standing by the doorway, deep in thought. In fact, by the time I started to pay attention they were on, “Morgan, Sarah!” My jaw dropped in surprise as the girl emerged from the crowd of first years and made her way to the stool. I wasn’t the only one.
The girl’s skin was the palest I had ever seen, like paper. Her hair was white, completely absent of any sort of color. She was tall (though not as tall as Alta) and wore silver rimmed glasses over the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Her eyes were large and round, framed by short white eyelashes. I couldn’t stop staring. Murmurs went through the hall as she hopped onto the stool and placed the hat on her head. It didn’t waste a second before yelling out its answer.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” The table with a black and gold banner hanging over it applauded as the girl made her way towards it. As she sat down, I thought she might have winked at me. It was impossible to be sure, though. ‘Ockley, Joanna’ and ‘Palling, Solomon’ were sorted before they came to a person I recognized. It was my friend from home, Guinevere! She was the only one of our group who was my exact age, and I was thrilled to see her again. Maybe, I thought, Guinevere could be my new best friend! I’d never had a best friend before, but Guinevere, with her dark hair and brown eyes, had always been nice to me. Maybe we could be closer this year.
“Remsen, Guinevere!” the professor called, and Gwen walked up to the stool with a smile on her face. The hat was only on her head a second before calling out “Ravenclaw!” I tried to catch her eye, but she must not have seen me as she walked towards the cheering.
I gulped at the next student. ‘Trevelyan, Jeremiah’ was the red-headed boy who had spoken in the hall. I was definitely pinning him as a Slytherin. A few students had been sorted there so far, and they looked like a nasty bunch. I waited for the shout of the hat as he sat on the stool, the hat hanging down over his eyes.
“RAVENCLAW!” the hat called, and I gasped. Ravenclaw? That was the OTHER excellent house! Mother had belonged to it, and was always telling me how wonderful it was. How could somebody who had been so rude to me possibly be in such a good house?
I sat in shock during the rest of the sorting, only moving once it was done as I followed Professor Marchbanks up to the staff table. A few people pointed at me as I took a seat at the end of the table and I tried not to think about them as Professor McGonagall stood.
“Welcome students old and new!” she said as the students quieted. “I know that many of you were surprised that we were opening again, but Hogwarts will continue on through harder times than this.” Silence reigned in the hall, and many older students looked solemn. I couldn’t help but notice some of their heads turning to look at empty spots at their table, where I could only assume students used to sit. What had happened to them?
“We have some new additions to our staff this year. The new defense against the dark arts teacher is Professor Eric Munch.” A wizard in desperate need of a shave (and judging from the dark circles under his eyes, a good night’s sleep) wearing raggedy robes stood up for a moment as the students clapped. A burst of laughter came from the Gryffindor table, and I turned to look for the source. A tall, dark haired boy, probably seventh year, was laughing silently in his seat as a girl with bushy hair looked shocked and a boy with bright red hair looked confused. What, I wondered, was funny about the new professor?
“We are also pleased to announce the addition of Cassandra Pralent as assistant caretaker to Mr. Filch.” That was me! Professor McGonagall looked at me meaningfully, and I stood up for a moment as Professor Munch had done. I could hear whispers, one of which was most definitely coming from Alta at the Gryffindor table. My applause was smattered with muttering, and my face was red as I sat back down.
“The Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, and they are advised to avoid the portable swamp. Mr. Filch would like me to remind you that all Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes products are banned, including their new line of Attack the Caretaker products. And now, let the feast begin!” As Professor McGonagall sat down with a look of visible relief as a great feast filled the table.
I stared. Two weeks of eating rubbish and the house elves could cook like this the entire time? Possibly it only looked good. I took a hesitant bite out of a chicken leg, and my eyes widened in delight. It even tasted fantastic! Once I figured out where the kitchens were I would be having a talk with the elves about how to feed eleven year old girls during the summer. Willable would certainly have never fed me burnt toast.
In the meantime I dug in, ignoring the stares of students who were no longer preoccupied with food. Perhaps I was eating a little messily, but why did they care?
Then I was able to make out what the staring students were gossiping about. It was not, as I imagined, about my eating habits. No, the word I was able to make out was ‘squib.’
Suddenly I wasn’t hungry. Was everybody going to be like this? They didn’t even know me! What had I ever done that I deserved such treatment from these people whom I had never met before? I answered that one myself. Nothing.
“Here, Miss Pralent, have some pineapple.” Professor Slughorn was levitating a box of crystallized pineapple in front of me, his waistcoat bulging even more than usual from a good meal. “It’s quite delicious. Honeydukes stuff, you know.” The pineapple did look appetizing, but I shook my head.
“No thank you, Professor,” I said, staring down at my plate. “I’m not that hungry.” Professor Slughorn shrugged before turning back to Professor Munch, who was sitting to his right and looked like he might enjoy a piece of pineapple.
Thank Merlin the feast ended soon after that. Professor McGonagall called for all the prefects to escort first years to their dorms and I slipped out in the confusion, making my way toward my rooms. Unfortunately I was not able to escape unnoticed. As I opened the doorway to my apartment under the stairs I was spotted by none other than Alta Abrams.
“The squib has a den!” she shrieked in delight, and her friends laughed with her as they headed up the stairs. “Good thing, too. Squibs probably stain the sheets. I doubt you’d ever be able to get the smell off.” This, too, earned a round of giggles from the surrounding girls. I ran into my apartment with my face burning, wishing to disappear on the spot.
Tomorrow I would begin classes.
Late Bloomer by Just Tink
Chapter Notes: thanks to potterphile12 for betaing again! I own nothing, of course. Enjoy!