I can't blame you for trying to categorize me. It's a human instinct. It's why scientists are, to this day, completely flabbergasted by the duck-billed platypus: it's furry like a mammal, but lays eggs like a bird. It defies conventional classification.
I AM THE PLATYPUS (Coo coo ka-choo)
Chapter 4:
In Which Readers Expect Albus and Rose to Be Sorted
~ Rose ~
Albus had barely put on his school robes when the train stopped at Hogsmeade. Ever since the incident with James, he was focusing solely on Emily, talking to her about everything and anything. Rose knew better than mentioning the fight again so soon. James liked teasing his brother, and she was sure that deep down he didn’t want to hurt him, but this time he had taken it too far. Al was a bundle of nerves, because he was worried about the sorting, and James just made it worse with all the Slytherin jokes.
They were told to let their luggage and pets be. Apparently, they would be transported in some other way to the castle. They picked up their bags hurriedly, and headed towards the nearest exit.
It was a warm night. A soft autumn breeze brushed against her face as she set her feet on the platform of Hogsmeade’s train station. She didn’t have time to look at Hogsmeade though, as she knew she had to find Hagrid. She spotted him easily even with the poor lighting on the station. Maybe it was the fact that he was gigantic compared to the students who had just gotten off the train or that he kept calling “All the first years with me!”, until all of them were gathered around him. He kept muttering numbers under his breath until he reached 47. With the oil lamp he was holding, he pointed at the direction they were supposed to go, and led them through a wide, cobbled path to Hogwarts. The castle, with its tall towers and its brightly lit windows, was visible even down here.
Rose was looking at the tallest tower of the castle, Gryffindor’s tower. When she realized she wasn’t following the rest of the group, the glow from Hagrid’s lantern seemed to be miles away. She ran as fast as she could and when she reached the end of the line, she started looking for her cousin and Emily. They were talking about magical sports, and Al was struggling to explain to her the rules. Rose was still trying to catch her breath, so she just listened and tried to keep up. Each of Hagrid’s steps equaled ten of hers, so she was struggling for a breath all the way. She didn’t want to stray behind again.
Soon enough, they reached the Black Lake. A couple of absentminded students almost missed the dark waters, and they got their shoes wet before pulling back with a surprised yelp. Rose took Al’s hand, and pulled him to the boat right behind Hagrid’s; you see, Hagrid needed one of his own to hold his weight. Emily Rose and another boy, who was taller than most first years sat with them.
The boy introduced to them as Ben. He asked if they had been called to take the test to see if we were worthy students for Hogwarts, and earned three you’re-talking-crazy looks from the rest of them. Rose had a suspicion about who may be responsible for that insane, absolutely non-existent test he was talking about.
The lights from the castle casted reflections on the water. She even managed to catch a glimpse of the giant squid a few seconds before they reached the shore on the opposite side of the lake. She discreetly nudged Al to take a look, not wanting to scare Emily. She didn’t look like she could handle any more magical creatures tonight.
She felt like a sheep, as she was herded through the castle to the unknown, between all the other sheep - erm, first years.
“What now?” Al asked as they went up a set of stone stairs. The edges had gotten soft from the age, and she almost slipped a couple of times. Emily turned in her direction, apparently waiting for the ‘know-it-all’ to tell them how the sorting would go.
She shrugged. “Last time my parents were here, McGonagall gave the first years some instructions, and then the sorting began.” From the looks on their faces, she could tell they were expecting something more extraordinary. “I’m not sure who will welcome us now that McGonagall doesn’t work here though.”
“Hurry, you three. I’m met snails faster than you,” someone standing behind them muttered, and shoved her out of the way, to go up the stairs hurriedly. What was his deal? Couldn’t he wait? She shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t manage to see much of the boy, just his black school robes and brown hair. Once I figure out who he is! She thought angrily.
Before she knew it, she was falling. Someone grabbed her arm, and held her from tumbling down the cold stairs. “Better watch your step.” She instantly recognized the bleached blond hair. It was that Scorpius boy. The one with the big mouthed Jarvey. Before she could reply, he was lost in the crowd.
Rose nudged Al. “Does everyone seem a little hostile today, or is it just me?”
“Maybe. I haven’t been paying much attention,” he said absently.
She knew what he was thinking. Her cousin was like an open book. “Hey, don’t be nervous.” She squeezed his hand. “We’re gonna be in Gryffindor.”
He nodded, not saying another word. She sighed. She had said everything she could think of to cheer him up, but in vain. At least he will finally relax when we take our seats on the Gryffindor table, she thought to herself.
The high-ceilinged hallway was bustling with noise. The new students introduced themselves to the others, and were making jokes, while they waited for a teacher to show up. The clearing of a throat forced her attention to a person who was standing out. He was a plump man, with dirty-blond hair, dressed in a light blue cloak. She’d recognize Neville anywhere. “Look!” she whispered to Al, pointing at their parents’ friend.
“Hello, everyone,” he started. He seemed a little nervous, compared to how he was at the Burrow with her Mum and Dad, but somehow he had a completely different air... here he was a teacher. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Here you will learn...” After a while she stopped listening. The information he gave them already existed inside her head, so she tuned him out, and started studying the other students.
A boy with brown hair drew her attention. He was rather short; she could have thought he was Hugo’s age if he wasn’t standing among a bunch of first years. He was at the far end of the hall, away from most students, staring at everything with wide eyes and mouth agape. Rose approached him, and noticed that a thick layer of freckles covered his cheeks. Suddenly every student burst out laughing; Neville had probably made one of his usual jokes. The freckled boy leaned against the wall, holding his stomach from the laughter. The moment his back touched the wall though, he vanished.
Rose’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked around, but nobody was paying attention. Nobody saw he was gone! She scanned the room, and saw Al at the back of the crowd carefully listening to Neville. She tugged his sleeve. “Did you see that?” she whispered.
He turned to look at her, still glancing at Neville. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on!” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. Not even Al had noticed? She looked left and right, making sure nobody was paying attention to them. She grabbed Al’s hand, and ran for the wall.
For a second she felt as if a hook grabbed them, and pulled them to the other side of the wall. Albus took his hand away, and tried to find a dry spot to walk on. She noticed her own robe and shoes. They were a wet mess. There was a crack on the wall and a pipe was spraying water all over the stone floor.
“Are you insane?” he yelled. “How did you do that?” She tried to explain, but he raised his hand, stopping her. “More importantly, why did you do that?”
“There was a boy... he... went through the wall.”
Al squinted his eyes, trying to make out details in the dark. There was a small window that was letting some moonlight in. Other than that, there was nothing to illuminate the hallway. Not even torches for them to set alight. And she wanted to try that inflammation spell so badly! “I don’t see a boy...” he said in disbelief.
“I swear! He went here!”
“That’s it. I’m going back. I don’t want to miss my own sorting.” He turned around, and went marching for the wall.
“Wait!”
She was too late. Al’s face slammed against the wall. He stumbled back, rubbing his nose. His cheek got scratched by the rough edge of a stone. “What is going on?” he asked in confusion.
“You’re hurt.” She tried to take a better look on his cheek, but he covered it with his palm.
“Why can’t I go through the wall?” he demanded.
As if I should know! she wanted to yell back at him, but knew that picking a fight wouldn’t help them. She inspected the wall, much more wisely than her irritated cousin. She touched it with her hand, waiting to be sucked out of the wall again. Nothing. There was just solid stone underneath her palm.
“Al?” she started in a low voice.
“Yes?” he hissed.
“Promise you won’t be mad at me?” She was pleading him with her eyes, even though he probably couldn’t see her in the semi-darkness.
He shook his head. “What’s the point anyway?” He rubbed his cheek with his cloak, wiping away a thin line of blood where the stone had scratched him.
“I think that the wall works only one way... You get in, but you have to get out from some other place.”
He clenched his jaw in the dark. “So we’re stuck. Bloody perfect!”
“There must be another exit. Maybe the other boy has found it.”
He shot daggers at her with his eyes. “I highly doubt there was another boy. It was your imagination.”
“Did my imagination decide that there was an invisible passage through the wall?!”
“I don’t know. But there is no boy. Can you hear footsteps? Anything?” She tried to listen. Nothing other than the rhythmic sound of water being sprayed from the broken pipe.
“Fine. Let’s get moving,” she said in a defeated voice.
Each of them picked one side of the wide hall, running a hand across the wall. Rose took the left, and Al the right. He complained about taking the side with the window. According to him, there was no reason to check if there was a passage on the external wall of the castle. As if he didn’t know that the light coming from the window could be just an illusion.
The stone scratched the inside of her palm, but she didn’t pull it away. If there was a door hidden on that wall, she didn’t want to miss it.
“You know… even if we miss the sorting, it can’t be that bad. Our dads did the same once, didn’t they?”
She heard Al hitting the wall angrily. “If we miss the ceremony Rose, we’re dead. Dad and Uncle Ron almost got expelled for that!”
“I thought they were almost expelled for using a flying car in front of Muggles, and damaging a magical tree,” she retorted.
“It was their second year! They had been sorted!” he said crossly.
She could sense his frustration, so she decided to remain silent. As they walked farther into the hall, the shadows grew thicker; there wasn’t another window.
“Please tell me that you have learned some kind of spell to see in the dark,” Al mumbled, his shoes splashing against the soaked floor as he walked.
“Well... I do...” she started hesitantly.
“But?”
She was suddenly glad that he couldn’t see her face in the dark. “I sorta kinda left my wand in my trunk.” The only answer she earned, was another disappointed sigh. “Well, excuse me for not expecting to end up walking through hidden passages in the castle when I should be getting sorted into Gryffindor!” she exclaimed. He was blaming her for getting them into this mess, but he couldn’t blame her for that as well! She had to somehow defend herself!
He exhaled loudly. “Let’s just find a way to get out of this place.”
After three or four corners, their hands met the end of the hall almost simultaneously. “That’s the end,” she announced half-heartedly.
“A dead end,” Al pointed out. “That’s not good.” He fell on the wall behind him with a loud bang.
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” he snapped.
“The sound the wall made behind you.” She was grinning, feeling satisfied with her discovery.
“Well, I fell on it, so it made a sound. So what?”
With her hands stretched in front of her, She searched for the opposite side of the hall, where her cousin was standing. She touched something soft and hairy.
“And that would be my head. Would you mind taking your hands off it?”
She tried to stifle a giggle. “Sorry. I’m looking for the wall.” He moved to the side, and she found the wall. She knocked on it softly with her knuckles.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s wooden! A door!” She pressed her ear against it. “Come on, listen. There’s noise from the other side!”
“Thank Merlin! About time we got out!” He found the handle quickly, and pushed the door open.
They were in the Great Hall. The ceiling had the colour of the night sky, clear of clouds, and filled with small, twinkling stars. Candles floated everywhere, lighting up the large room. They found themselves right behind the Ravenclaw table. Too far away from the shrinking line of first years.
Hagrid was standing at the back, near the main entrance, behind all the students. He spotted them instantly. “What are ye two doin’ there?” he whispered, in a voice that wasn’t really much of a whisper, and motioned them to get closer. They ran to his direction, leaving a trail of wet footsteps behind them. “Get back in line. How did ye get there?”
Rose gave him an apologetic half-smile, and they snuck between two students, a tall girl and a plump boy. Neville, who was calling for the students to get sorted, didn’t notice them.
They located Emily Rose easily. She was sitting on the stool in front of the staff’s table, staring blankly ahead as Neville placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The hat made a funny grimace, probably from something it saw in Emily’s mind, before yelling, “Hufflepuff!”
Al and Rose clapped, and cheered for her, amongst the students from the Hufflepuff table. She saw Al mouthing a, “Sorry,” at her, but I wasn’t sure what he meant with it.
More names were called, and the line of first years was getting shorter and shorter.
“Malfoy, Scorpius,” Neville called. Scorpius came from somewhere behind us, looking as arrogant as only a Malfoy could, like Dad would say. When he sat on the stool, she could see his face. He was white like a sheet of paper, but Rose couldn’t tell if that was his natural colour, or he’d turned white from anxiety. He tried to keep a straight face when the hat touched his head.
“Ha!” Everyone flinched as the hat sprung to life. “You could have broken the tradition... Hmmm... But... Eh! Slytherin!”
Scorpius jumped up, and in a flash he was sitting on the table along with his housemates. Rose was frustrated about what the hat had said. According to her parents, it rarely said things about each student’s sorting out loud... why would it make such an exception for a Malfoy? Then again, there’s a first time for everything.
“Milton, Timothy.” The next boy walked forward. The shorty.
“That’s him!” Rose pulled Al’s sleeve impatiently, giving him meaningful looks towards the boy. “That’s the one that went through the wall,” she whispered through her teeth.
Al shrugged, his thoughts apparently somewhere far away. He had fallen again to the same trance, waiting for his sorting, as if he was waiting for a death sentence to be announced. “If you say so.”
But it was him! He had a silly grin plastered on his face, his freckled cheeks growing even wider. The hat flexed, and leaned right and left, as if thinking where to place him. “Huuuuflepuff!” it called joyfully, and Timothy skipped towards his table. Her gaze still followed him as he took a seat a few students away from Emily, and examined forks, spoons and dishes on the table as if he’d never seen that sort of thing in his life.
More names were called. Nickson, Jack: Gryffindor. Null, Lillybeth: Ravenclaw. Olivier, Franny: Gryffindor. Oshwell, Ryan: Slytherin. Opal, Mitchell: Slytherin.
“Potter, Albus!” Neville couldn’t hide his excitement as he called her cousin’s name. Rose wondered if she was the only one who noticed. Al’s eyes widened. He gulped in a slow, dramatic fashion, as if a knot was stuck in his throat, his feet glued to the spot.
Gently, she pushed him forward. “Hold me a seat at the Gryffindor table,” she told him with a wink.
He slowly nodded, and walked towards the stool. His nervousness was somehow contagious. While he walked, her own palms started sweating, and she leaned forward impatiently, to make sure she’d hear the sorting hat’s choice. As if she didn’t know already!
We’re Gryffindors. We would go to Gryffindor.
Neville patted Al in the back, and placed the hat on his head. Al was frowning, his eyebrows squeezed together so tightly that they looked as if they were one. The hat was saying something to him. She couldn’t hear. Probably nobody could, other than Albus himself.
The hat made a sound that resembled a cough. Rose didn’t know it could do that. She realized that the sound wasn’t really a cough, but a word. Her mind processed it slowly. “Slytherin!”
She froze. For a second she wasn’t breathing, she wasn’t blinking, she was just staring. Slytherin? She felt like the ground gave way beneath her feet. Only it didn’t. She was still standing on the Great Hall’s stone floor, her robe still dripping, and Al was staring back at her, just as shocked as she.
Even Neville was taken by surprise. Suddenly, everyone was talking. She didn’t understand. Were they excited? Were they annoyed? Did it even matter? Albus wasn’t a Slytherin, and everyone knew it!
Neville cleared his throat. He whispered something to Al’s ear, and her cousin numbly walked to the Slytherin table. He didn’t look up once. As soon as he had reached the edge of the table, he squeezed himself between two fat boys. He looked so tiny, and fragile sitting between them.
She didn’t hear another thing until she was the last one waiting. She started walking before Neville called her name. The only thing he could have said was, “Weasley, Rose.”
The hat was on her head before she knew it. It was whispering, but she couldn’t understand what it was saying. Its voice was a knot of words, blending with the conversations of the students; a constant buzz into her ears as if she was standing inside a beehive.
Just get this over with! Which bloody House am I in? she demanded, and knew the hat had heard her. The whispering stopped.
“Slytherin!” the hat yelled.
There was no clapping. There was no buzzing either. Just an uncomfortable silence. Her cheeks were flushed, probably redder than Gryffindor’s flag. Her eyes were burning, but she wouldn’t cry on her first day, not in front of the whole school.
She gave Neville a curt, dignified nod, and walked towards the Slytherin table. Each step took her farther and farther away from the table where both Al and she should have sat. All she could think of was her Dad. Would he really disinherit me? she wondered.
* * * * *
Al didn’t touch the food that had magically appeared on the table. Rose had decided that she would make herself enjoy the food, and act as if everything was normal. A few chips and some chicken later though, she figured out it was impossible. Everything was colourless, scentless, and flavourless. Pretty much like chewing parchment. Which she could compare it to with certainty out of personal experience. She had done that once for a dare.
She turned her attention to the other Slytherins. They were all staring at them. Of course they would. A Potter and a Weasley went to Slytherin this year. It was a sight worth staring at. The two boys that had been sorted into Slytherin before Al were sitting closest to her, so she focused on them. Ryan was a plump boy with dark hair and eyes, who was quickly swallowing as much food as his stomach could fit. The other boy, Mitchell was the complete opposite. His hair was a light shade, the colour of the sand, and he was the neatest person Rose had ever seen. He held the fork and the knife so delicately, and every now and then he checked if food had stained his clothes.
She turned her look away, and until the food disappeared, her gaze was switching between Al, who was sitting still as a statue, to the teachers’ table. They didn’t seem upset in the least. They were talking with each other, making jokes, drinking wine, and filling their dishes over and over again. Who cared if Al and she were sorted into the wrong House? Apparently only Al and herself.
The headmistress, Professor DeMolay, was a thin woman, with auburn hair, and cat-like green eyes. She had introduced herself before giving a speech at the beginning of their dinner. Rose didn’t hear a single word of it; for the first time in her life, it was literally impossible for her to gather her thoughts and concentrate on anything. She could feel DeMolay’s eyes on her from time to time, but never longer than she looked at any other student.
Had they been in Gryffindor, James and Fred would have told them all about the other professors by now, what grudges each of them held against her trouble-loving cousins, and what pranks these two had pulled in their classes. But they were Slytherin... they were with the snakes.
After what seemed like forever, the dessert also disappeared. The headmistress stood up, and explained that the students of each House would follow their prefects to the dormitories, and that classes started tomorrow morning. Al and Rose followed, standing at the end of the line. She caught a glimpse of Fred’s ginger hair when he and the other Gryffindors came out of the dining room. They were going up, at the seventh floor, where she already knew that Gryffindor’s tower was, while the Slytherins went down, to the dungeons.
“Don’t get out of the line, unless you want to be stuck, wandering around the dungeons all night,” a Slytherin girl with silky voice warned them. She was one of their prefects, Joanna King. Rose instantly knew she didn’t like her. Well, if she had to be honest, she didn’t like any of those Slytherins, but that was a different matter.
It was cold down there, even though it was a warm night. This part of the castle was less tended, offering nice corners for spiders to weave their cobwebs, and dirty armours for the dust to sit on. Rose was starting to feel her wet socks freezing her toes, and she couldn’t wait for them to get to the dormitories, and change into something more comfortable. They had to be better than this place.
They stopped in front of a wall, a dead end, very similar to the one Al and she ended up before the sorting ceremony. “Adder Poison,” Joanna cooed to the wall. A slithering sound echoed down the hallway, and the wall slid to the side, revealing an arched entrance.
The students started going inside, and Rose got closer to the entrance. She noticed that the stones around the door had details she couldn’t have seen from far. There were faint carvings of snakes on them, smoothened over by the passage time. She ran her hand over it, but was interrupted by a familiar voice, and a tap on her shoulder.
Joanna was looking at her. “You can stay there if you like, but it’s almost midnight. The password will change and you will be stuck out here. Your choice.” She flashed her a smile that was dripping poison, and turned around, flipping her black hair.
Rose rolled her eyes in annoyance. “The password will change and you will be stuck out here,” she muttered mockingly. What a liar. The password changed every fifteen days! She wasn’t a silly, little first year she could mess with!
“The boys’ dormitories are right through this door,” Joanna explained, pointing to a door next to the fireplace, “and the girls’ down these stairs,” she continued, pointing to a staircase hidden between two large, green couches.
When she started saying how proud they should be to be sorted into this House, Rose finally decided it was time to tune her out, and started taking in her surroundings. Unlike the soft, yellow candle light that filled the Great Hall, this room had a greenish tint that was making her dizzy. Oil lamps decorated the walls, the wicks surrounded by green glass. The common room was huge, and there were five fireplaces in different spots, all lit, with magical, blue flames licking greedily the stone walls. It was warmer here, but still everything felt so... cold.
She realized that Al wasn’t standing close to her anymore. She looked around frantically, trying to spot him. The only familiar face that she found though was that bleached boy, Scorpius. He was coming her way. “Well, well... didn’t expect to see you here, Weasley.”
Wanting to hide her annoyed expression, she smiled. Kind of. “I didn’t expect to see you here either, Malfoy.” She smirked. “I suppose you learned how to hold your wand right then.”
His face turned serious. “Be careful when you go to bed. There are snakes slithering around.” He left just the way he came, quiet as a shadow.
She shook her head, trying not to pay attention to his words. If she did, she knew that she would start wondering if he was literal about the snakes. She gave herself a mental slap. There, you’re doing it already! Stop thinking about it! her inner voice commanded.
A familiar purr snapped her attention. “Ignis!” she called excitedly. Her kneazle meowed happily, and came to her, rubbing his head against her legs. “At least you’re here...” she muttered.
Most first years had left to check out the dorms, and some of the oldest students sat around fireplaces, where their “spots” probably were, catching up with their friends. Al was still nowhere to be found. Lacking her usual curiosity, instead of exploring the common room, she headed for the stairs. There was a circular room at the bottom, with seven doors. One for every year. She picked the one saying, “1st Years”.
All the girls stopped whatever they were doing when Rose walked in the room. She earned a few looks, but she was in no mood to attempt deciphering them. Maybe they were disapproving. Maybe they were pitying. She couldn’t care less at the moment. She spotted her bed easily. It was the only one left untouched. Ignis’s small bed sat on the left of her bed, and a wooden end table stood on the right. On top of her still closed trunk were laid her robes, with Slytherin’s emblem on them. A striped green and grey scarf was carefully folded next to it. She couldn’t imagine herself wearing these things; yet, she knew she would have to, sooner or later. She threw them sloppily on the silky, green bed covers, and opened her trunk, looking for a book to bury her nose into.
Her hand stumbled across something hard. She picked up the weird bundle of knit socks and instantly remembered. Mom insisted she should take the colourful monstrosities she’d made for her daughter, “For the cold winter days,” as she’d said, but of course there was no way Rose would wear such a thing around the school, no matter how cold the weather was. They were great for storing things though. She buried her hand inside the sock, not caring whether the other girls were still looking at her, and pulled out a dark, little bottle. To her relief, the cork was still firmly in place. She slipped the little bottle in her robe, and after changing to a pair of red pyjamas, she took her book and moved back to the common room.
She instantly spotted a set of couches that was empty. Her eyes widened as my gaze fell on the window behind them. Behind the glass was... water. Yep, dark, murky water. The Black Lake? she wondered, and approached it curiously. She set the book down on a pillow, and squeezed her nose against the cool glass. She could faintly see the bottom decorated with kelp and rocks, and little schools of fish swimming around. Sadly she couldn’t spot any merpeople.
Eventually, she decided that nothing interesting would show up. She plopped herself on the couch, and got down to reading, with Ignis curling on her feet. It almost felt like home. Almost.
The room began to empty, until she was the only one left. About time, she thought. She took off her slippers, and walking on the tips of her toes, she made her way to the boys’ dormitories. She hoped there were no enchantments to keep girls out.
She pushed the 1st years’ door open, to be welcomed by about ten different loud snores. She shook her head. Boys.
She stood over every bed for a few seconds, in an attempt to figure out which one was Al’s. Finally, she found him, his head hidden under endless layers of sheets and quilts. Calling his name would probably wake up everyone in the room, so she started poking him instead, until he decided to open his eyes.
“Rose?” he asked in a sleepy voice. “What now?”
“Come with me.”
“What? Are you crazy? Let me sleep.”
She glared at him. “Albus Severus Potter! Get up this instant.”
He gave her a “you-are-insane” look, but sat up anyway. “There’d better be a good reason you woke me up in the middle of the night.”
She looked around carefully, and picked the fireplace where they would be best hidden. Armchairs and couches were placed all around it, which would conceal them from prying eyes, in case somebody woke up.
“Why do I feel like we’re about to break some rules?” he whispered, trying to stifle a yawn.
“Because you know me so well?” Rose offered, grinning. She fetched the dark, little bottle from her robe’s pocket, and knelt in front of the fireplace.
“What are you doing?” He kept staring at the bottle as if it contained a bomb. He had probably realized that its contents were some kind of powder by now.
“I thought you’d like to talk to your parents, silly.” She poured a handful of floo powder on her hand, before she threw it into the blue flames. They instantly turned a brilliant emerald that matched so beautifully with the colours in the room. “Are you waiting for a special invitation?” she asked, motioning her head towards the fireplace. “Go ahead.”
He stared blankly at her for a second, before a small smile appeared on his face. “You’re the best cousin ever.”
She smiled back. “Hey, get in there. I don’t want to waste all the floo powder tonight. Who knows when we’re going to need it again.”
He nodded and, muttering his home’s address, he put his head into the flames. Rose was sure that less than a minute had passed when Al, his head still in the fireplace, reached out, and pulled her into it as well.
She had to blink a few times to get used to the view. She had used floo powder before, but usually it was for transportation, not for communication. It felt funny, knowing that on the other side they could only see their faces. The living room of Grimmauld Place 12 was exactly as she remembered it, with a red velvet couch in front of the old fireplace. Her parents and Aunt Ginny were sitting on the couch, and she saw Uncle Harry, kneeling closer to the fireplace than the rest of them. She spotted a bottle of Firewhiskey on the table next to them, and four half-empty glasses.
Her dad saw her, and a huge grin spread across his face. She was getting the feeling he’d had a few more drinks than the rest of them. “There’s our little Rosie!” he yelled. His voice echoed through the big house, and the portrait of Sirius's mother yelled something back from upstairs.
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
“Look at them!” he continued, hugging Mum’s shoulders. “Already breaking some rules! These are our little Gryffindors alright! Who snuck in the floo powder? Was it James?”
Al cleared his throat. “Erm... About that...” Dad kept laughing, and took another sip from his glass. “I don’t think James could have given floo powder to us, even if he had any...”
“So proud!” Ron went on between drunken chuckles.
Rose felt her cousin tugging her sleeve on the other side of the fireplace. “That’s why I brought you in here, Rose,” he explained in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, well...” she started saying. Her dad was whispering something to Aunt Ginny’s ear. “Everyone!” Rose raised her voice, demanding their attention. She could feel Uncle Harry’s eyes on her. “Please, will you listen to us for a second?”
He mum grew serious. If there was someone who would realize there was something wrong, it would be Mum. She could smell trouble from miles away. “Did you get detention already?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “What? No!”
“Then what?” Aunt Ginny asked softly, but Rose was beginning to get mad. She hadn’t let her emotions show since the sorting. She pulled it together because she didn’t want to deal with any more gossiping or staring than she already did. But now, with her dad happily drinking, thinking he was the proud father of a Gryffindor like so many others in their family before him, her mum thinking she got detention and her aunt and uncle wanting to know what was going on, she snapped.
“We got sorted into Slytherin, that’s what!”
They all stood there, immobilized from the shock. Even her dad, who was laughing mere seconds before.
“Our trunks and pets are in the Slytherin dungeon, we can see the waters of the Black Lake from our common room and we have green and silver scarves waiting for us on our beds. We are Slytherins, housemates with little Scorpius!”
Her mum stood up and came to kneel next to Uncle Harry. “Sweetie, calm down.”
She felt fat tears running down her cheeks. Her face was flushed, and she didn’t think that the fire was to blame. She kept staring at her mum. Her dad had set the glass down, and he and Aunt Ginny came to sit on the floor as well.
“We can talk to the Headmistress.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“We can get this settled.”
Rose didn’t care much about who said what. She wished they could get them into Gryffindor. But had this been done before? When you get sorted, that’s it, right?
“Al?” Rose had almost forgotten about her cousin sitting next to her until that moment. “Are you okay, buddy?” Uncle Harry asked.
“You said the hat would let me pick. I insisted I didn’t want to be Slytherin. And it put me there.” His voice was trembling, and he sounded completely defeated.
“Al...” Aunt Ginny started, but she stopped. “We will come to the school to talk with Professor DeMolay. There must be something we can do about this. All this has to be a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, maybe the hat got confused,” Ron added. “It has to sort so many children every year. Makes sense, right?”
Rose caught her mum giving him a sideways look, but she didn’t say anything. Maybe she thought her dad’s words could make Rose feel better. They didn’t.
“I am going to bed. I just wanted to give some floo powder to Al to talk to you because he was feeling down. Say hi to Hugo from me,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage. Before any of them could say another word, she pulled her head out of the fireplace. She picked up the little bottle and stuck the cork on it. She tried to wipe away the tears, and when she pulled her hand back it was smudged with grey.
Al came out of the fireplace soon after her, and the flames turned blue again. They stared at the fish through the glass for a while, without speaking.
“Do you think they can get us into Gryffindor?” he asked quietly.
Rose shrugged. She wouldn’t keep her hopes up this time. “If Slytherin is meant to be our House, so be it.”
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