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i. ONE
DAUGHTER, DARLING
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IF THERE WAS ANYONE THAT MELORA LOATHED MORE THAN THE GRYFFINDORS, IT WAS ALL OF THE FIRST-YEARS, REGARDLESS OF IF THEY ENDED UP IN HER HOUSE OR NOT. They spent their entire first year in awe of the school, getting themselves into pathetic fights, and bragging about how brilliant their Lumos charms were going. She could only laugh at them each year, as the same sorts of children hurried timidly after Professor McGonagall, unaware of what gits they would turn into within the week.
It was the beginning of her seventh year this time around, and she watched in elation as the cluster of small students stopped before the Sorting Hat. It wasn't necessarily witnessing what house they were each put into, but more about viewing their expressions of fear. If the student was a Slytherin, she would applaud politely, like all of her housemates did, but she had never been proud to welcome anyone into her house before. She doubted very much that it would change.
"That one," the girl beside her said suddenly, pointing to a boy at the back of the group, who was awkwardly shuffling his feet and whispering to the boy beside him. "He's a Gryffindor."
"Really?" she snorted back, shaking her head. "He doesn't look like enough of a self-centered arse. What about that girl? Look, the one with the red hair at the front."
"Hm, maybe," her friend said, although she wasn't completely convinced. But at the mention of the hair colour, the girl frowned. She turned to Melora. "Merlin's beard, that's not another Weasley, is it?"
"I doubt it very much," Melora said. "Draco said that the last one joined the school a year after he did. Probably for the best, there's been enough of them prancing around this school so far to drive me insane."
The two girls fell silent as the Sorting Hat then burst into song to commemorate the origins for the ceremony. Although her view of them was not perfect, Melora noticed how the students watched in utter disbelief as the battered hat continued its song.
"In times of old, when I was new, And Hogwarts barely started, The founders of our noble school Thought never to be parted..."
Melora locked eyes with one of the first-years, and glared at them. She turned away quickly, staring straight down at the floor. Unlike the others, she did not turn to another student and whisper to them. And even though she didn't feel sympathetic towards her, Melora couldn't help but wonder if the girl had gone through the whole train journey in silence. Alone.
