The Road Not Taken | Harry Potter

Chapter 6 | Flare for the Dramatics

And Harry heard the hat shout to the whole hall one word- "GRYFFINDOR!"

His plan was set into motion, but he couldn't resist sparing one last glance, his green eyes so bright, he could see their reflection in the small glasses adorning Dumbledore's face. He in turn raised his goblet, toasting Harry's sorting, probably satisfied he had passed his test. The old fool.

Harry walked towards the Gryffindor table, the cheers and yells of the students drowning out the next name called out. The ginger Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the twins- Fred and George- yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

He heard "Ratcliffe, Amare" being called out and quickly looked at his friend. As she walked forward, some whispers from the Slytherin table reached him- in quite voices they inquired if the Ratcliffe's were a pureblood family, asking each other if someone recognized her. Harry smiled at that- Amare's walk and looks could put even the most ancient of families to shame and it had been years since the last time the castle had seen such a beautiful child.

She sat on the stool for two...three...eight minutes, but Harry wasn't worried. Their plan would work. It had to.

The hat opened its mouth, Harry stopped breathing- "SLYTHERIN!"

Silence. No one clapped, not even the Slytherins. It was the first time in Hogwarts history that a muggleborn was sorted into the house of Salazar Slytherin. Harry allowed himself to lean back in satisfaction, before slowly clapping for his friend. Many of his house looked with shocked faces at his display, but it seemed to shake the Slytherins and they too began clapping politely. Amare sat down and looked at Harry, mirroring his smile.

The sorting finished with "Weasley, Ron" being sorted into Gryffindor, where he proceeded to sit next to Harry, cheerfully offering him a hand, and began to complain about the lack of food. Harry, who used to go days without eating, didn't even notice.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming at the students, arms opened wide.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Harry was slightly amused- the man knew how to work a crowd that's for sure. As the students clapped and cheered, food appeared on the golden dishes, and the hall was filled with loud chatter and moving plates.

The feast was a lovely affair all in all- Harry kept a close eye on Amare and saw the glances her housemates kept shooting at her. She ate silently, not bothered by the lack of company. He kept getting into conversations with random people and even ghosts. Nearly Headless Nick kept talking about the House Championship, even though deep down Harry thought that their house had about zero chances of winning it, especially when he saw a food fight beginning at the far end of the table.

The ginger Prefect, whose name was Percy, told Harry about the different teachers, but when he got to Professor Snape, Harry felt sharp hot pain across his scar. The look that the Professor shot his way could only be called hatred, and although he was used to getting such looks from adults, he was surprised to receive it from a wizard he had never met.

"And who is that, next to him?"

"Professor Quirrell, he teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts- used to be the Muggle Studies Professor, but after he came back from his break he switched subjects." Said Percy.

"Yea, Snape was probably over the moon" said an older student with a chuckle, "Everyone knows he wants the Defense position, wouldn't be surprised if he slips some poison into poor Quirrell's cup"