|Myron Wagtail (myronwagtail_) wrote,|
@ 2020-03-25 18:03:00
"You'll be wanting this, I suppose," Kieran added, handing Myron's wand to him. "Please be careful with it."
"I'm nervous about the Sorting Ceremony," Myron admitted, chewing on the inside of his lip.
"Whatever for?" Lesley asked, rubbing his shoulder.
"Well... what if you don't like the House I'm sorted into?" he asked. Part of him knew it was ridiculous to even say such a thing, but he wasn't going to lie to himself.
"Myron," she said with a laugh. "They're just houses. The Sorting Hat knows what it's doing, and we won't love you any less for the House you're sorted to. That's mental."
"Even if it's Slytherin?"
"Even if it's Slytherin, Myron," Kieran assured him. "Slytherin's current Head of House is Horace Slughorn. You'll be quite fond of him, I think. He's a decent bloke, really. Quite good with Potions, too."
"But isn't most of Slytherin filled with a bunch of the Dark Lord's supporters?" Myron asked.
"I know you must be worried with the social climate the way it is right now, but remember," Kieran said, patting his shoulder. "You're in charge of the choices you make, Myron. Not your House. You have your own mind. Just keep your head screwed on right, respect your professors, and you'll be fine. Be mates with the students from the other Houses."
The whistle on the train blew, warning for the five minutes before departure. Lesley pulled Myron in for a tight hug. "We're going to miss you so much, love. Write us as soon as you get settled in your common room. We love you."
"Love you too, mum. Dad," he replied, looking up at the both of them. Kieran helped him load up on the train and gave him a quick kiss on the head.
"Good luck, Myron. Make us proud."
Myron nodded and settled into his compartment, waiting for the train to take off. He could see Lesley and Kieran outside his window and gave them one last wave goodbye as the train lurched forward, beginning its trek to Hogsmeade.
The ride seemed to have taken forever. Myron had mainly holed away with his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, flipping through the pages to keep himself occupied.
Mostly, he couldn't stop thinking about which House he might be sorted into. His talk with his parents had calmed his nerves some, but the anticipation was making him anxious to get it over with. As he stepped off the train, an excessively large and hairy man flagged the rest of his future classmates down. Oh right... that's Hagrid, the gameskeeper. He's a half-giant.
"Firs' years over here! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid called. It was kind of already hard to miss him, but his voice caught their attention if his size didn't. The flock of first years followed after him down a narrow pathway. "Yer boats are right this way. No more than four o' ya to each. Right aroun' the corner you'll all see the castle."
As they turned the bend, Hogwarts finally came into view. The lit windows were in stark contrast against the water of the Black Lake. The only benefit he thought he'd get from Slytherin was being able to see the giant squid - his father had mentioned something about the Slytherin Common Room being in an underwater room. He was at a loss for words at the moment, and only continued to stare.
"C'mon, Wagtail. Yer burnin' daylight."
Shaken out of his trance, Myron took his seat in a random boat, not putting much thought into whichever one he got into. Now that all the kids his age were settled, Hagrid commanded their little fleet forward and in a few minutes, they were at the docks where they got off their boats and were lead inside.
A witch dressed in emerald green robes descended the staircase and gave a soft smile at the group of first-years before turning to Hagrid. "Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here. We'll see you in the Great Hall."
"Yer welcome, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid replied, heading off from where Professor McGonagall came.
She finally turned to his group again. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she spoke, and began pacing in front of them. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet shall begin soon. Before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your Houses; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. These House-mates will become something like your family while you're here for the next seven years of your life. If you do good, you will earn points. If you don't behave, you will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House cup."
All around him, the other first-years were mumbling and chatting amongst themselves. The Professor cleared her throat. "We are almost ready for you in the Great Hall. Please wait here and I will return for you in a moment."
As she turned to go back into the Great Hall, the chattering continued on. He talked to a few of the other first-years, trying to peg who he might become friends with. Eventually, Professor McGonagall returned and she lead them all into the Great Hall.
The view was amazing. The ceilings were high and vaulted, and it seemed to reflect the night sky. Hundreds of candles were levitated in the air above the four tables. Banners hung above each table, dictating where the four Houses each sat. Braziers were settled against the walls, fires blazing. Professor McGonagall halted them just before a small set of steps, and on the platform was a stool with an old brown hat that looked like it lost a fight to a hippogriff.
Albus Dumbledore greeted them and gave a few words of his own, and then the hat seemed to come to life, the folds moving like a mouth. It recited a long poem for them, and it was finally time for the actual sorting. Several other children were called on before him, and then he heard his name being announced by McGonagall.
He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath and exhaled, stepping up to the stool, where he took a seat. Professor McGonagall lowered the hat to his head, and the hat began to speak.
"How interesting... Your father is Kieran Wagtail, he made quite a nice fit to Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat said. "But let's see here. You have some bravery in you, no doubt about that. A good mind, yes... But I also sense you want to make something great of yourself. Loyalty, an admirable trait. Ambition, and plenty of it, but you seem to be hesitant, questioning yourself. What do you say, do you want to take a chance on me, or do you have something else in mind?"
He exhaled again. His heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel everybody's eyes on him, waiting, but he managed to speak. "You pick."
"Are you quite sure? Once I've sorted you, the decision is final," the Sorting Hat reminded him.
Myron only nodded, wanting to get it over with, already.
"Alright then... Slytherin!!"
The rest of his new housemates in the Hall burst into applause at their new addition. Myron joined them, taking an empty spot at the table. A boy with sharp cheekbones and dark hair was next to him and offered his hand. "Felix Rosier," he introduced himself. "Welcome to Slytherin."
Myron knew the last name Rosier from his father, but he took the boy's hand anyway to be polite and gave him a firm shake. "Thanks," he said, looking at Felix before turning to see the Headmaster stand up again and approach the podium. He was the last person on the list, so the sorting was over.
"To the First Years, welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. His voice echoed through the hall. "I know you all have had a long journey, so I will not keep you waiting any longer. Enjoy your meals!"
Food appeared on the tables, and the spread had everything from hot sandwiches to Yorkshire pudding. He piled his plate with food, chatting with Felix. "Does it get cold in the Slytherin Common Room, being under the lake and all?" he asked, picking at a chicken drumstick with his fork.
"Not really, no..." Felix said, taking a sip of water from his goblet. "The fireplace provides enough warmth in the Common Room, and we have furnaces in the dormitories. It doesn't even get nippy during the winter, and the windows have enchantments to keep the condensation off."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Myron said. "I suppose it's nice when it's hot outside."
"Yes, I think so," Felix replied, wiping his fingers off on a napkin. Felix had a rather peculiar accent. It was clear he grew up in Britain, but he had a tinge of French mixed in.
"Rosier... that's a French name, innit?" Myron asked.
"It is, yes," Felix replied. "I live with my mother in the English countryside, but we go to France often."
By the time dinner was over, he felt like he was going to pass out from the sheer exhaustion. He knew he wouldn't be writing to his parents that night, but he would send them an owl the next day. When the Welcome Feast was over, Myron was guided with the rest of the First Years of his House to the Dungeons. They reached the hallway where the Prefect turned to the wall.
A section of the wall slid open and moved off to the side, allowing the group inside. The room had dim lighting, given that it was so late, but the water from the lake reflected on the walls, inside, covering the room in soft waves of light, which reminded him of a serpent's scales. They really go all out for these rooms....
The main floor was covered in sleek black furniture with emerald throw pillows, and a silver crest of a snake was mounted above the fireplace. As eerie as the room seemed now, it was beginning to grow on him, already. He was shown to his bed by the Prefect, where his things were waiting in his trunk at the foot.
Someone, (he didn't know who), laid a small selection of items out for him and the other first-years - a tie, a scarf, and even a couple new robes (in his exact size) coordinated with his House. The sleeves and hood were lined with a dark, mossy green, and Slytherin's crest was embroidered into the chest on the left side.
Setting his wand at his desk, he changed into some more comfortable clothing and went back downstairs to explore the Common Room in more detail.