The Crow

Chapter 1. Red

For a moment, I felt on top. Bold. Strong even. My eyes locked forward, ignoring the voices on my side. Unfortunately, that can only last so long. Words grew stronger than I, reaching my skull painfully.

"Crow? As in The Crow family?"

"I didn't know the Crows had a daughter."

"Merlin's beard, she comes from a family of Slytherins, pureblood royalty."

"Weren't her parents killed?"

The room grew louder as the whispers grew.

"Quiet down everyone, her sorting will begin." Dumbledore spoke out. He had me sit in the chair up front, preparing me to be sorted.

I couldn't keep my eyes forward anymore. My eyes darted to the one place I expected him to be, the Slytherin table.

There he was.

A tall, white haired, pale face Malfoy.

He's grown up. His jaw was chiseled, his features were more defined from when we were kids. His eyes locked on mine, piercing grey. It felt as if he looked through me, rather than at me. It hurt for a second, looking at me as if he'd seen a ghost. We weren't kids anymore, and that was more to accept than I thought it would be.

Finally, breaking out of my trance, I heard yet another whisper among the tables.

"She's obviously a Slytherin, no doubt about it."

They're right. Aren't they?

The sorting hat was placed on my head. Rather than a quick shout of Slytherin, it was silent. I felt as if I would collapse. The hat was inside my head, experiencing my life through my eyes. I could only watch quietly as it replayed the thoughts within my head. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.

"What's taking so long?" A voice from the crowd.

My hands were freezing. They always grew cold when I was anxious, or in trouble. I remember how clammy they were when my mother found out I stole a galleon from her. I don't recall what it was for, something silly I assume.

I wondered how much time had passed while I reminisced. Not too long, a few seconds maybe. No, that was wrong. By the looks in the students eyes it must've been a minute or more. I felt my face morphing into the worried expression they all wore.

"You're quite a difficult one." The hat finally muttered words.

"Intelligent like a Ravenclaw." It shouted.

No.

"Loyal like a Hufflepuff."

No.

"Brave like a Gryffindor."

Stop.

"Cunning like a Slytherin."

Please.

"Impossible!" I watched the tables protest. I couldn't tell who they were arguing with. Was it me? Or maybe it was Dumbledore. No, that wouldn't make sense. The hat maybe? It doesn't matter. They're angry.