Evanna Lestrange never cared. Unlike her sister, she never burst into flames when anyone said something out of line. She never looked back at the judging eyes of her peers and her professors.
She didn't care that people thought she would turn around...
Minerva stopped her train of thoughts before she rallied down the memory lane and reminisced all the young children Hogwarts had lost to the darkness. She pulled out her long roll of parchment, ready once again for the Sorting Ceremony which began as soon as the boisterous hat finished its annual song. So many promises made by the hat, of glorious futures and marvellous adventures, most of which have only ended in early graves.
Depressing thoughts aside.
“Abbott, Hannah!”
As students started to find their way on the podium and to their respective houses, she couldn’t help take subtle peeks of the red-headed girl. Her eyes reminded Minerva of someone, a person lost in memory.
Soon enough a distraction presented itself as a name popped up on the list that she didn’t realize was on it.
“Black.......... Amanda!”
The Great Hall fell into hushed whispers. That name always sent her mind down a certain memory lane. The not-so-distant memory of a troublesome little boy popped up in her head. Having been sorted in her house, despite all the mischief he caused, she had always believed he had a pure heart.
Oh, how wrong I was proven.
One of the girls from the huddled group of questionable ancestry came forth. She had dark black hair which she undoubtedly inherited from her father’s side of the family along with a stunning pair of blue eyes which she shared with her mother. Her clenched jaw and tight fists were enough evidence of her anxiety.
Minerva tried to calm down. Even though the girl was fathered by a Gryffindor, she still had Slytherin blood from her mother and the rest of her ancestors. Moreover, her father wasn’t much of a Gryffindor to begin with. Also, she has barely met the man in her lifetime, he holds no influence on her.
Minerva lifted the hat and as the girl seated, gently placed the hat over the mop of black hair.
The hat barely took a few seconds to yell what seemed like both their nightmares, “Gryffindor!”
The entire Great Hall went silent before everyone simultaneously gasped.
Another Black in Gryffindor. Minerva felt faint already.
Merlin’s beard, she's going to have an awful time adjusting. Her Black ancestry wasn’t the only thing concerning about her. She was also an Adair, linked forever to the Dark Lord even if none of the sisters ever pledged to him.
There would be a lot of judgement to contend with. Being born out of wedlock and fathered by a mass murderer didn't really help anyone’s reputation in this world.
Minerva could see the ashen faces of the other children who surrounded the girl a couple moments ago. She watched as the girl quivered onto her feet, staring back at her companions in shock. She managed not to tumble to the ground as she took timid steps towards the Gryffindor table. Watching her sit at a corner, away from all the chaos and—admittedly—the joy, Minerva could see the girl wish for the ground to swallow her up.
Hopefully, history won't repeat itself. Can’t have another Death Eater from my house.
Minerva frowned and looked down at her list and read out the next name.
“Black, Tristan!”
The girl was Sirius’s so the boy must be. . . Regulus Black’s.
The other dark haired boy from the group came forth. His confidence was waning as he had just seen his cousin being sorted into Gryffindor.
However, the hat's verdict wasn’t so disappointing this time as it shouted, “Slytherin!”
Minerva saw as the boy let out a deep breath. He was certainly content with his placement as he walked away to join Eugene at the Slytherin table, the latter also expressed his contentment with a familiar hug.
Cousins, as she remembered. From their mothers’ side.
“Bulstrode, Millicent!”
After another round of names called out in alphabetical order, came another surname Minerva thought she’d never have to call out again.
“Lestrange.......... Evanna!”
Tentatively, the blonde haired girl she thought was a Malfoy twin broke off from the group.
Minerva’s face involuntarily twisted to a frown as the flighty young girl walked to the podium and sat on the chair. As the hat was placed on top of the girl’s head, she noticed that her blonde roots were turning grey at an alarming rate.
Ah, a metamorphmagus. That would explain why she doesn’t have black hair like her parents.
The greying of her hair only fastened as the hat sat on her head rather silently. It was very unlikely of the frisky hat to be so quiet which only made everyone in the Great Hall more nervous. Minerva saw the girl steal glances at Eugene who intently smiled back at her.
From the corner of her eye, Minerva could see Harry Potter frowning while listening to the Weasley boy explain something to him. If she wasn’t wrong, their topic of discussion was certainly the history of the Lestrange name.
Suddenly, the hat perked up and shouted at the top of its voice.
“Gryffindor!”
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