Cleaved

One

September 1st, 1971
James Potter

For a moment, there was silence.

It weighed down on his shoulders, causing the boy to deflate. Disappointment clutched his lungs, and dragged his stomach down to his feet. His train of thought collided with a wall, shattering all hopes, dreams, and plans he had had for the years to come. All he could do was sit there, limbs locked as he willed the hat to be placed back on his head and call out any other house name.

At first, no one dared to speak a word. Pure bloods looked on in shock, Slytherins' jaws dropped. McGonagall had a curious look on her face, Dumbledore had this knowing and interested glint in his eyes. James suddenly felt uneasy with everyone's eyes on him.

When it was clear that the hat would not be making a different decision, James slid from the stool, heading towards what he was sure to be his doom. His head was down, doing his best to ignore the whispers that started as he stepped towards the table at the far end of the room. Yet, the words attached themselves to him, weighing him down and making him feel as if he were trying to move through mud. His limbs acted on their own accord, carrying him to the table as his brain seemed to shut down. Upon reaching the bench, his knees seemed to give out, collapsing into his spot at the end of the table, as far away from the other members of his house as he could possibly be.

"A Potter, in Slytherin?" Was the first words that reached James's ears. He was aware of the long line of Potters in Gryffindor, which was why he had figured he'd be there. He had wanted to make his father proud.

"There's got to be a mistake, he can't possibly be meant to be here." James couldn't have possibly agreed more, casting a longing look at the opposite end of the hall where Sirius sat at the Gryffindor table. There would be no chance to wear his father's Gryffindor jumper proudly as he goofed off with the boys he met on the train. There probably wouldn't be any hide nor hair of those three. Surely, they wouldn't want anything to do with him now, not while he was sporting green.

"Maybe he's finally a Potter with some brains." Someone suggested weakly. It was no secret that the Potters were known for being 'muggle-lovers' and 'blood-traitors'. The moment the words were uttered, James's head swung around and he threw a glare the way the voice had come. He knew what it meant, knew the slander that came with it, knew that it was implied about his mum and dad. The idea of anyone speaking poorly about his parents grinded his gears.

"What do you think his father will think?" That question sent ice throughout his veins, freezing all his joints. His father... He had been looking forward to James being in Gryffindor more than he was, having given him his old jumper days before he left, telling him he'd get to wear it his first day to classes. Fleamont had had such an excited and proud look in his eyes when he had gifted it to his son. James couldn't help but feel as if he had let his dad down.

James slouched in his seat, hardly noticing as the sorting ended. He tuned out the words Dumbledore had to say, not wanting to risk having to hear any of the gossip spreading around him. He picked at the food, not managing to eat very much with the knot in his stomach. He was going through the motions, his body on autopilot as his brain struggled to catch up to recent events.

His mind was caught in a loop, it kept coming back to the fact he was in the house of the snakes rather than roaring with the lions. He kept wondering what his father would think, surely he'd know by the next day, despite having graduated he still had ties to Hogwarts, had assured James that he had ways of knowing the ongoing within the school. When his dad had told him that, James had found comfort in the words, even though it had been an attempt of getting James to behave while he was away from home. Now though, he wished that his father wouldn't be told, that James could keep it his own little secret. But then again, how do you keep a secret that hundreds of people already know?