Be My Baby ~Multi~

Slytherin

After the brief eye contact with Regulus Black, Hermione looked back at Genevieve, who looked up at her in awe. "I'm so excited," she breathed, shifting her dark eyes to look at the sky. It was clear and full of bright little candles, Hermione remembered how it felt the first time she had seen it.

So long ago now. Little Hermione had no idea what was ahead of her as she started at the candles herself. Little Genevieve didn't know what horrors lay ahead for the wizarding war. She was only going to be 13 or so when the war was over, but still Hermione's heart broke for her.

Hermione's thoughts turned back to Regulus Black as Dumbledore gave his speech. Her had only until what? Until December of '79, to live and experience life? He didn't even know it, and it hurt her to think about it.

He would have just turned 19 when he died. The same age she was now. Hermione thought about what it would be like to die right now. Only a few short months ago she would have gladly embraced it, as she lived in a prison cell under the Ministry of Magic.

"Now Ms. Gordon, if you will please take your seat to be sorted." She faintly heard Albus say.

Suddenly she was back in first year, walking next to Pansy Parkinson, who at the time was being nice to her. Both girls marvel at everything around them, Hermione telling her about how the sky was charmed to show the night sky as it was outside.

It's weird to her, to think that the woman who would be the one to rat her out, was the girl who offered her a seat on the Hogwarts express at age 11.

The stares. As she walked up to the stool all she could feel where stares. She hated it.

The walk felt like it was never going to end. Oh God was she shaking? Why was she shaking? Hermione cursed herself. Stupid girl, it's just staring.

Finally, after what felt like years, Hermione sat on the little wooden stool, feeling comically large. Everyone was looking at her, eyes burning into her like coals to Styrofoam.

The hat was placed on her head. Hermione remembered the last time the hat was placed on her head, despite the mass of curls on her head, the hat still dropped over her face. Not now, even with Leslie's own crazy curls slicked back in an appropriate pure blood way, the hat did not droop.

Hermione, the hat said once it was placed on her head. Its voice was still as rough and gravely as when she was 11.

'Hat,' 

she addressed it.

We meet again? 

'That we do.'

You're on a mission this time then?

'How'd you know?' She thought sarcastically. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Just an old hats inkling, is there any house that would help you in said mission?

'Slytherin.'

Slytherin?

'That's what I just said isn't it?'

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat bellowed.

The table all the way on the right burst out in a fit of cheers. Hermione watched as another familiar face turned to whisper something to a copper haired boy. Both men glanced up at her.

Hermione hopped off the stool and took a chance to glance at the teachers. Slughorn looked absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of having such a "Famous" student. But Dumbldore.

Her 'Coworker.'

'Mentor'

'Ally.'

Looked absolutely disappointed and even a bit angry. Hermione rolled her eyes. Big baby, it's just a house.