The door opened to reveal Dominique’s surrogate Uncle Neville.
“The Firs’ years, Professor Longbottom,” said Hagrid.
“Thank-you, Hagrid.”
Uncle Neville was a family favourite for regaling stories of the resistance back in the days of Dumbledore’s Army. He was the professor of Herbology and head of Gryffindor. His wife Aunt Hannah managed The Leaky Cauldron. Neville did not board at the school like most teachers did, but flooed home every night.
The first years followed Neville into the vast entrance hall. They huddled together, glancing around anxiously. Dominique scanned the room for any sign of Peeves, the poltergeist that Teddy had warned her about. Violet*, Teddy’s cousin, seemed to have a personal vendetta against Peeves. She was hesitantly accepted into the Weasley family, given that her parents were Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, and had held grudges against each other at school. Violet was also a Slytherin, which made Uncle Ron and Uncle George immediately more suspicious of her, but Dominique’s parents accepted her without much fuss, recognising that a child was not responsible for their parents’ actions.
Dominique started” Uncle Neville was speaking.
“…start of term banquet will begin shortly, but first, you must be sorted into your houses. The sorting is an ancient and central tradition of Hogwarts. While you are here, your house will become your family- you will sleep, eat and have classes with your house and spend your free time in your house common room,” he informed them.
Dominique winced uneasily. It would be all very well if she were sorted into Gryffindor, where most of her family was anyway, but what if she was sorted somewhere else? What if she was separated from Louis?
Uncle Neville was talking again.
“There are four houses, each with its own noble history. They are called Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. While you are at Hogwarts, your merits will earn you house points, while any misbehaviour will be punished by losing points…”
Dominique’s attention wandered. She knew all of this already. Presently, she wondered what the sorting ceremony involved. She had asked her parents, her Aunts and Uncles, and even Victoire, Teddy and Violet, but none would tell her. They just smiled slightly and said “You’ll see.” Uncle George finished this statement with a dark chuckle and Dominique was filled with a sense of foreboding. She looked up to find the doors to the Great Hall had opened. She glanced at Louis, who was chewing on his lower lip and frowning into the distance before following the rest of the first years into the buzz of voices.
Neville placed an old wizard's hat on a stool before the entire school and stepped back and looked at the sorting hat expectantly. The buzz of voices quieted and the whole school turned its attention to the hat.
Dominique gasped when a slit near the brim opened like a mouth and the hat began to sing:
I'm the Hat that
reads your mind,
and there is nothing
you can hide;
I will put you
in a place
that seven years you
must abide.
I am skilled in
the detection
of that crucial
inner trait
which determines
my selection,
making character
Your Fate
See the Gryffindor
whose roaring
opens wide that
fearsome face;
but the Slytherin
keeps venom
in a much less
obvious place.
And the Hufflepuffs
so tender,
never predator
but prey;
whilst the Ravenclaw
soars highest,
asking 'Why?' far
From the fray.
And as peacetime
follows wartime,
all our conflicts
are dismissed;
but in learning,
and in yearning,
House distinctions
will persist.
So the Lions
cram for Glory,
whilst the Eagles
learn for joy.
for the Badgers,
study's duty,
for the Serpents,
it's a ploy.
Know that Gryffindors
in love are
not a force to
be ignored;
that the Ravenclaws
are guarded,
consequently,
they're adored.
And the Hufflepuffs'
affections
are most steady
and serene;
but in Slytherin's
obsession
and indifference
find no mean.
If determinism
galls you,
understand this;
it's your choice,
I’m spelled to
sort you
truly, so you
might rejoice.
Yes, to whichever
House you go,
you are meant to be,
so rejoice in the
knowledge that you are
to be sorted by me!**
The Great Hall rang with applauds, and the hat bowed to the four tables before falling silent again.
“So we have to put on a hat,” Molly whispered in relief.
Dominique refrained from rolling her eyes. She was also relieved, but smart enough to know that a magical hat was not necessarily as safe as Molly seemed to think it was. She regarded it warily.
“When I call your name,” said Professor Longbottom, “put on that hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” He unfurled the long roll of parchment and cleared his throat.
“Aarons, Peter!”
A small, wide eyed, blonde boy stumbled forward and put on the hat before sitting down, the hat promptly falling over hit eyes.
After a few moments silence, the hat shouted “
‘HUFFLEPUFF!”
The Hufflepuff table thundered in applauds.
“Baldock, Gaylan!”
‘SLYTHERIN!’
Roars erupted form the Slytherin table.
“Brooks, Amy!”
‘RAVENCLAW!’
The table from the second left applauded the new arrival.
Dominique fidgeted anxiously as the number of first years slowly dwindled.
“Nott, Abraham” became a Slytherin.
“O’Lawry, David” was sorted into Gryffindor.
“Quale, Fiona”; another Gryffindor.
“Rahn, Beatrice” became a Ravenclaw and “Roberts, Noah” became a Hufflepuff.
They were getting closer to the Ws.
“Scalon, Vincent” was sorted into Slytherin.
“Thompson, Udell” became a Hufflepuff.
“Vacek, Edalaine” into Ravenclaw.
“Weasley, Dominique!”
Dominique froze, eyes wide. Then she hesitantly started towards the hat. She paused for a moment, staring at the hat when she reached the stool. This was it.
She picked it up. The brim was frayed with age. She sat down, and her eyes met Louis’ for a brief moment before she placed the hat on her head and the faded broad brim that sagged over her eyes abruptly cut off her vision.
‘Another Weasley,’ it seemed to sigh. Dominique thought of the next three Weasley’s to be sorted.
‘Ah, more of you, today. Very well, let’s get started,’ it said.
‘Hmm, brave, but cunning. Not a Gryffindor then,’ it said. Dominique’s shoulders sagged in disappointment.
‘Don’t be disheartened, we’ll soon find a place for you. Clever, very clever, and not just academic intelligence. No, not Ravenclaw either. Strong family loyalty, but with your intelligence and cunning, I think, SLYTHERIN!’
It shouted the last word, and Dominique’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her family would disown her. She shakily removed the hat and stood. Her family would disown her. The Hall sat in shocked silence. Victoire had been the first Weasley in living memory not to be in Gryffindor--a Weasley in Slytherin was something else!
And then one person began to applaud. Dominique turned to the Slytherin table to see Violet grinning at her, her hands keeping a steady rhythm. The teachers shook themselves out of their stunned state and joined Violet in a scattered applause, but the rest of the hall remained in shocked silence.
Dominique slowly walked to the Slytherin table, and Violet made room for her.
“Well done,” she said. Dominique looked at her in confusion. “You would have to be gutsy to be sorted here, being a Weasley and all,” she elaborated. Dominique nodded slightly. But she did not think she was gutsy.
She folded her hands in her lap and watched as Louis placed the hat over his head. If he were sorted with her, it wouldn’t be so bad. But as she had feared, the hat cried,
“RAVENCLAW.”
Dominique slumped in her seat and looked gloomily into the golden plate before her.
She fought the impulse to cry, a lump forming in her throat. She was separated from her twin, her other half. She looked up and his large blue eyes met hers in sorrow before he walked over to the cheering Ravenclaw table.
Uncle Neville read “Weasley, Lucy”.
Lucy raised her chin, her mouth set in decisive resolve, but her eyes scared. She sat down and placed the hat on her head. She crossed her ankles and gripped the edges of the stool tightly.
The hat shouted
“RAVENCLAW!”
Lucy stood and removed the hat, relief on her face.
“It appears Ravenclaw is becoming the new house of the Weasleys,” Violet muttered in her ear. Dominique smiled weakly at her.
“Weasley, Molly!”
Our last chance for a Gryffindor, Dominique thought.
Molly squared her shoulders and strutted forward. She sat straight with the hat on her heat, feet together and hands clasped tightly in her lap.
‘GRYFFINDOR!’ the hat shouted.
The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers.
Dominique sat through the rest of the sorting in a daze. Only one Weasley out of four sorted into Gryffindor. The rest of the family would be furious.
Neville rolled up the parchment. Dominique watched as Professor Llewellyn stood. The famed headmistress had fought in the recent goblin rebellion a few years ago at Hogwarts**. She wore her long, grey hair tied in two long plaits, and for all her age, stood erect and commanding.
“Welcome, to a new year at Hogwarts. I expect you all to remember that the Forbidden Forrest is still out of bounds to all students with the exception of being accompanied by a teacher, and that magic is forbidden in the corridors, as well as any merchandise purchased from the store ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.’”
Dominique had a good stock of extendable ears, decoy detonators and many other useful products from Uncle George in her trunk. Her father had seen her hurriedly cover them with clothes before her mother saw them, but pretended not to notice. Dominique’s attention returned to Professor Llewellyn who concluded her speech.
“…and enjoy the feast!”
She clapped her hands, and the empty plates and platters on all the tables were suddenly overflowing with food of every kind. Immediately conversation resumed and students began to reach for the heaped platters of food.
Dominique scooped up some baked potatoes.
“When are you going to write home?” Violet asked. Dominique blanched.
“Mum made me promise to write every day. I want to get it over with, but I don’t have an owl, and I suppose it will be too late to go to the Owlery before bedtime. Molly will probably alert half the family by tomorrow morning anyway, I suppose,” she grimaced.
“You can borrow my owl,” Violet told her. “I got Darkwing for Christmas from Father.”
Violet had spent Christmas with her father and his wife, Astoria. She had missed her younger half-brother, Scorpius, over the previous school year.
“How were your holidays?” Dominique asked.
“Great, until mum came storming in through the living room fire, drunk and swearing. I wish Scorpius hadn’t seen that. I suggested to Astoria that she should obliviate him, but she said he was too young to remember anyway.”
Dominique shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She knew relations were strained between Violet’s parents, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, but Violet rarely spoke of the matter. She decided to try and turn the conversation to a more pleasant topic.
“How is Scorpius?” Dominique watched as Violet’s expression lightened and inwardly sighed in relief.
“As full of mischief as ever,” Violet smiled. “Dad insisted on getting him a toy broom for Christmas. He must have broken at least half of the old family heirlooms zooming around on that thing, with us all chasing him to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.”
Dominique smiled at the mental picture of Mr. Malfoy chasing after Scorpius. She laughed a little. The whole idea seemed so unlikely, too normal for the Malfoy’s. Whenever Mr. Malfoy had come to the Weasleys’ house to drop Violet off or pick her up personally, he had been incredibly guarded. Astoria was less so, and more civil towards the Weasleys and the Potters, but she still had the characteristic Slytherin smirk hinting at irony.
But Dominique had never met Violet’s mother, Pansy. Uncle Ron still called her ‘Pug Face’, and Aunt Hermione only half-heartedly admonished him.
Dominique was interrupted in her musings.
“Oi, Weasley!”
A boy who looked to be a third year sneered at her. Dominique cocked an eyebrow at him and gave him a once over, lip curling in distaste. She met his eyes, wary instinct prickling.
“How did a blood-traitor runt like you get into the noble house of Salazar Slytherin?”
Dominique relaxed a little. The boy was mostly curious, but it was necessary for him to address her with a little scorn in order to save face.
She rolled her eyes.
“Weeelllll,” she started. “You see, Professor Longbottom read out my name, and then I sat down and put on the hat….” She began condescendingly, enjoying the way his eyes narrowed at her when he bristled at her tone.
Violet turned from her conversation with two other Slytherin fourth years. She looked between the boy and Dominique.
“Everything alright?” she asked. The boy opened his mouth to speak, but Dominique bet him to it.
“This boy was wondering how a blood-traitor Weasley runt like me got into the noble house of Salazar Slytherin.”
Violet's eyes narrowed. “Dominique belongs here more than you ever will, Lucas”, she said.
“And more than you, apparently” replied Lucas before glancing to the Gryffindor table. Violet didn’t reply, but stared him down. Lucas was the one to look away, with a disdainful snort.
“If anyone else bothers you, let me know,” said Violet.
“Thanks,” Dominique replied. “But I think I was handling the situation on my own.”
“I’m sure you were,” she conceded. Her face hardened. “But some of the types in here may try to harm you. Watch your back,” she advised.
“Thanks. I will,” said Dominique.
The last remnants of the main meal faded, to be replaced with desserts of every kind. Dominique helped herself to a slice of rich chocolate cake with berries and icing-sugar on top.
She had just scooped a forkful when sudden cold cascaded down her neck.
She couldn’t prevent a small squeal as ice cold water tickled down her back. A cackle sounded overhead. A little way down the table, somebody yelped. Dominique caught sight of something red streaking towards Violet and an explosion of gleaming droplets soaked her face and hair. The cackle sounded again. Dominique looked up. A small man with a sly, mischievous grin hovered over the Slytherin table.
This could only be” “Peeves,” Ground out Violet. “He pranks a house every year. Last year it was Gryffindor. This year it’s our turn, apparently.”
A large man with a walrus moustache and very little hair got up from the teacher’s table and waddled over.
“Peeves!” he yelled. “Be gone at once! If you keep up this tradition, I will make sure you are expelled from the Hogwarts grounds!”
Peeves dropped the rest of his water-bombs and blew a raspberry at the professor, and vanished.
The Slytherins cried out in disgust when the water bombs hit the table, soaking everything within reach. Violet scowled and drew her wand from the folds in her cloak. She first dried the table before her with a muttered charm, and then applied the same charm on Dominique and herself.
“You’ll have to teach me that one,” Dominique told her, inspecting her now-dry robes. Violet laughed.
“You’ll have to learn the basics, first,” she told Dominique.
At the head table, Professor Llewellyn stood.
“Head straight to your dorms,” she called. “The Head Boy and Head Girl have given the passwords to the prefects. Follow the prefects to your common rooms. As always, anyone caught out after lights out will be punished accordingly,” she warned. The student body stood, looking around for the prefects. Students milled to the exit.
“Tired?” asked Violet?
“A little,” Dominique replied.
“Not too tired, I hope. You still have to be sorted into your dormitories,” she told Dominique.
“That will be simple enough, I suppose,” Dominique yawned.
“Fairly simple, yes,” Violet agreed. She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to change her mind, and closed it again.
Dominique followed the throng of Slytherins down the left staircase, at the same time, trying to look for her brother. She spotted his short blond hair going up the middle staircase, and turned away, sadly.
* Violet Parkinson”I borrowed her character from Hogwarts Houses Divided (with Inverarity's permission)
** Sorting song adapted from http://home.att.net/~coriolan/faculty/sortinghat.htm
*** Professor Llewellyn I also borrowed from Inverarity.
Slytherin's Weasley by Tariel
Chapter Notes: I have obtained permission from Inverarity to borrow some characters from Hogwarts Houses Divided, such as Violet and Professer Llewellyn.
Also, I am not J. K. Rowling.