Weltschmerz

Chapter 1

ꩮ

Camila's eyes were shut tightly and her fingers dug uncomfortably into her thigh to keep herself from crying. The silence in the Great Hall was deafening, as the Sorting Hats decision still echoed off the walls.

Slytherin.

Why did it have to be Slytherin? Camila swallowed hard, feeling like Prof. McGonagall had personally slapped her across the face. She slowly blinked her eyes open, nodding her head in defeat, knowing it was the Sorting Hats final decision. She slowly rose from the chair onto shaking legs and made her way over to the green decorated house table. 

The whole way over to the table the silence lingered on. There were no murmurs, no coughs, not even the rustling of clothed was heard, only her footsteps that quietly echoed of the walls and the swishing sound her robe made as it glided over the stone floor. She quietly sat down at the table, lowering her head in shame. 

She continued to stare at the table, not brave enough to face the rest of the Slytherin students seated beside her. Camila guessed that it was just another reason to add, why she hadn't been sorted into Griffindor. 

No one bothered to even congratulate her for getting sorted into Slytherin. No one cheered for her, like they had done for every other student. No one smiled at her, or even had a nice word for her. Not one person, but every student at the Slytherin table was staring, their eyes burned into her skin, leaving an unpleasant sensation in their wake. Camila wondered again how she could have been naive enough to think that the house she would be sorted into would equal family no matter who you were or what you had done.

Slowly murmurs began to erupt from the rest of the tables. The sounds began as whispers of disbelieve and anger, before they turned into a full tidal wave of raging voices. Prof. McGonagall herself needed a second to compose herself, before she was able to silence the crowd of arguing students, to proceed with the Sorting ritual. 

Camila watched as 4 more people were sorted into Slytherin accompanied with roars of approval from her peers. She wanted to look around, try to catch Normani's gaze, but she didn't dare to, afraid of what she would find in the girls brown eyes once they met. Camila wanted to slap herself, she still hadn't learned her lesson. She had allowed these people on the train inside. Selfishly she had wanted them to be her friends, but usually these kind of feelings send Camila home with the kind of wounds that don't show, words that turn into wounds, which only grow bigger and take forever to heal. She knew what would happen in the weeks that were to follow and Camila really wasn't looking forward to it. 

"Why were you so dumb to believe that it would be different this time?" Camila quietly whispered to herself, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep, but sadly even if she did, she knew it wouldn't change a thing.  

Once the Sorting Ceremony was over, the feast was served without ado. A plate appeared in front of her, already filled with potatoes, carrots, meat, chicken and gravy, but Camila wasn't hungry anymore. The students who had been forced to sit next to her during the sorting ceremony, quickly moved further down the bench, leaving Camila to sit by herself on the edge of the Slytherin table. She sighed loudly to herself, before picking up the fork and bitterly poking at the food in front of her.

Camila had to fight with the tears that kept forming inside her eyes, knowing that there was not one person in this room, who would even consider to eat dinner with her. She suppressed a sniff, letting her hair fall like a curtain in front of her face, afraid that someone could see the tears that she was so desperately trying to hold back. 

Once she found her composure she pushed the strand of hair back behind her ear, forcing herself to at least eat some of the meat, because if her Abuelita would find out that she had gone to bed without dinner, she would personally fly down here to feed her.