A Darker Form of Magic, book one: Dark Affinity

Chapter Five

The castle door swung open with more force than Harry felt was necessary to reveal a tal, stern faced witch in emerald - green robes looking down upon the first years. There was something in the analytical expression that the woman held that reminded the boy of Aunt Petunia spying on the neighbors, silently judging them from a distance. Harry didn't like the feeling much and could tell that the others didn't either from the way that the other kids shifted under her hard gaze.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced. It was not lost on Harry that the giant held this woman in a similar level of respect as the school headmaster that he seemed to all but worship like a kind of deity.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

The witch pulled the door open wide to reveal what Harry could only assume was the entrance hall to the castle. The ceiling was high enough that Harry had to crane his neck back to see it fully. One of the walls was filled with what looked to be an seemingly endless store of an army of carved, faceless soldiers made of stone. Harry felt as if they would come alive if he only knew the right words to speak.

Professor McGonagall led them across the flagged stone and into a small, empty chamber off of the main hall. Harry found himself crowding and bunching himself up next to Draco more than he would ever be willing to admit as everyone pressed together nervously. Though his reason for doing so was different from the other first years.

The magic in the castle felt almost suffocating, drowning the boy in something so other than his own that he couldn't help but feel sick from it all. No one seemed to notice or be bothered by it all, but Harry could hardly stand it. So Harry pressed closely to the boy who's magic felt the most like his own.

Harry didn't hear what the professor said, whatever long speech it was that she gave. He cared more about the hand rose ting on his arm, steadying the smaller boy even though the blond couldn't possibly know what was wrong.

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

Harry watched as the witch's eyes went to Neville's upturned cloak, and how they seemed to linger on the red headed boy from the boats which seemed to have dirt smudged on his nose somehow.

With one last sweeping glance, Professor McGonagall strode away and left true students alone in the chamber.

—-

Snape watched with a growing headache as the stool and Sorting Hat were brought out to the front of the Great Hall. The student's voices rose excitedly as they did each time that they saw the raged, old thing. To them it was still a marvel to see the first years sorted, to place bets on who would go where. The professor just found the whole thing to be a waste of time that he could be spending doing absolutely anything else other than watching nervous brats sit on a stool, wearing a too big hat. But this year was different.

Because of course it was.

The Professor watched carefully as the first years walked cautiously into the hall, all of them huddled foolishly together as if it would protect any of them from the prying eyes of the older students. It didn't. It wasn't until the last ten or so students walked in that the potions master found just what he was looking for.

Four students stood bunched tightly together at the back of the crowd of first years. One was a bushy haired girl and another was the Longbottom boy, who looked more nervous than a fairy around iron. A shock of blond hair caught the professor's attention next, to say that he was surprised to find the Malfoy boy next to Potter would be an understatement.