To Hogwarts!

Art News: Drawings of *surprise OC*, Lucius, and Hecate (both ink and watercolor versions) are up on my dA account. See my profile for the link.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or "The Ballad of Ira Hayes". I do, however, own the band Sugardale (based on an original story of mine) and their song "Witches Watch You". Harry Potter belongs to the esteemed J.K. Rowling and the "Ballad" belongs to the late great man in black himself, Johnny Cash.

Forgive me my horrid poetry (the poor Sorting Hat!).

Chapter 5 – To Hogwarts!

Bronze and gold and scarlet leaves fluttered on the intangible wind that blew by. Subtle scents assaulted my nose – rosemary, cheap perfume, spilt wine, and the greasy oil and smoke of the trains and cars. King's Cross station was loud, filled with chattering people, rattling trolleys, and clackety-clacking trains coming and going.

Scorpius heaved our trunks from the rear of the Muggle taxi while Molly paid the driver. I pulled my wheeled trunk toward the platforms. With skill quite unlike several of the passengers boarding the trains, Molly maneuvered us to the brick columns between platforms nine and ten.

Molly pushed me through the barrier first. The light whooshing noise caressed my ears and pushed my hair from my eyes. It was over too quickly. I stood on the other side of the barrier, staring down the line at the scarlet steam engine. Heat radiated from it with the choking hazy scent of sea spray. The train was larger than I'd anticipated. Grills like the bars in a Muggle prison stood in shining silver at the front. The stack emitted white puffs as the engine idled.

A faint twinge of memory, the lowest form of déjà vu, swirled into the back of my mind. I'd done this before.

The platform was mostly a void; only a few parents and their children were embracing at the edges. I smirked in spite of things. Score and I were early, as was our wont.

"Let's get you two on board," Molly said breathlessly. "Scorpius, dear, can you help Hecate lift her trunk?"

Now, I love Molly. Really, I do. But she's frustratingly obstinate when it comes to me being perfectly capable of doing things for myself. Scorpius knew this and still he did what she asked. We both knew she'd only get upset with him if I did it anyway. I knew all this, yet it still was quite annoying to suffer through. Especially considering I could have picked up my own trunk without hitting the steps of the train.

In spite of myself, I fervently hoped my trunk was dinged.

"I've got to get in to work, dears, so I'll leave you here," she said.

Molly reached out and hugged Scorpius and me tightly to her, one of us in each arm. Scorpius' arms brushed mine. We had never held one another like this – but I knew one thing. It felt right. There was a brush of something warm on my forehead – Molly's kiss – and we let go.

"Now get up on that train," she ordered lightly. "I'll owl you as soon as I can. Bye, Hecate, Scorpius, behave yourselves."

"Bye, Molly!" we shouted.

When I looked back, she was gone.

Scorpius hefted his trunk into a more manageable position. We made our way down the corridor of the train, our trunks making soft clicking noises on raised bits of the scarlet carpet. Compartments sat on either side. Through windows that revealed enough room for six students, I saw that most of them were already full. Scorpius paused outside of one and turned toward it.

James, Sirius, and Remus were inside, along with a chubby brown-haired boy with large, protruding front teeth. He must have been Peter, the fourth Marauder.

"Score!" Sirius shouted. The compartment door flew open, the glass rattling with the force. Sirius took Scorpius' trunk from him. Four of the boys settled down instantly to Quidditch talk. Remus caught my eye and shrugged ruefully. I nodded slowly.

I was on my own.

About halfway down the train, I started hearing whispers in some of the compartments. The upperclassmen were watching me. Behind me, compartment doors opened. I could feel eyes on my back and neck, prickling like the on-again, off-again cold symptom still lingering from... before. After a long walk down nearly the entire length of the train, I found an empty compartment. I pulled out my Arithmancy text, set it down on the seat, and put away the trunk.

I had barely sat down and opened the book before I was interrupted.

The compartment door slid open, and in the doorway stood a girl roughly the same age as me with amber-colored eyes and long brown hair. She smiled sweetly, but it looked false even to my untrained eyes.

"They're saying all over the train that you're one of the Obliviated twins," she said. She leaned against the frame, studying me as one would a particularly fascinating piece of artwork. Appraising it for value. "I'm Isabelle MacDougal, Ravenclaw."

"Hecate Taylor," I said.

"So are you?"

Ooh, I liked this game. "Am I what?"

Isabelle sighed in exasperation. "One of the Obliviated twins!"

Aren't Ravenclaws supposed to be smart? "My last name should have given you that clue," I said coolly. "But yes."

She glanced up and down the hall behind her then slid the door shut. I bit back a sigh – no need to tell her she'd gotten under my skin.

"Listen, just thought I'd tell you," she said. "You don't want to be a Slytherin."

I blinked at this piece of information. "I was under the impression that I really didn't have a choice where I was going to be Sorted."

"You can tell the Hat not to do it," she said. "I did. I told it not Hufflepuff."

I tried not to smirk. I don't think I succeeded because she scowled.

"Look, you just don't want to be in that one. You-Know-Who came out of them, and that's why you shouldn't be one. You were attacked by his followers, and they're all from there, too."

No wonder she should've been in Hufflepuff. I nodded slowly, as though I were agreeing with her. It's not like I would really have a choice. What if I was supposed to be in Slytherin or any of the other Houses? She'd obviously made her decision and was missorted for it. I trusted the Hat. In particular in light of the evidence when one did not do so standing in front of me.

"Well, yeah, anyway, just wanted to tell you that. See you." And Isabelle left with a bouncing step, barely pausing long enough to open the sliding compartment door.

There were still ten minutes left before the train was to depart. I was sure I'd have compartment-mates soon enough. I set my book down to wait for them so I could at least be polite in greeting someone new. Molly had taught me those sorts of manners.

More like drilled them into me with an ice pick and a sledgehammer, but there it was.

Just as the train was about to depart, a familiar face poked into the compartment. Lucius Malfoy smiled upon sighting me.

"Do you mind if myself and a few friends join you?" he asked. "The other compartments are too full to accommodate us all."

I nodded and picked my book back up as Lucius dragged an expensive-looking, forest green trunk into the compartment. Two boys and three girls followed him, each of who silently put away their trunks first before saying anything at all. I watched them over the topmost edge of my Arithmancy text.

The first of the two boys had long, curly blond hair a few shades between Lucius and Remus. He had very pale blue eyes, not quite the same grey as Lucius', and chiseled features. The second boy was a study in contrasts between the Lucius and the other. Everything about him was dark. His hair, his skin, his eyes; the only speck of light color on him were the whites around his irises.

Two of the three girls were related, I think. Their faces were both pointed and aristocratic, they held themselves roughly the same, and their skin was about the same cream color. However, one had black hair, and the other cornflower blond. The third girl had black hair and an oddly strong nose. Her skin was caramel-colored, and she had a proud look about her.

Lucius began the introductions only when everyone was comfortably seated. By that time, the train had lurched to a start. The odd clickety-clack of the rails was strangely soothing.

"This is Rabastan Lestrange and Antonio Gibbon," Lucius said, pointing respectively to the blond and then dark boy. "The sisters are Narcissa –" the blond, "and Bellatrix Black. And this is our own Illiad Parkinson. Her elder half-brother just graduated last year. Gentlemen, ladies, this is Hecate Taylor."

I really, really appreciated the fact that he did not tack on "one of the Obliviated twins" on the end of that sentence. The others all waved. They each greeted me in a polite tone, with nothing more or less than, "Hello."

Lucius stood up after a moment or so, giving a slight bow at the door. "I'm sorry to leave you all, but I must go to the prefect carriage."

Illiad shifted slightly on her seat, looking about to explode. "Soo, Taylor, um, have you read the paper this morning?" She had her hand poised over a shoulder bag and snapped into action only after I shook my head. "You should."

I took the Daily Prophet from her and scowled upon seeing the headlines. No wonder we were being stared at.

OBLIVIATED TWINS ACCEPTED INTO HOGWARTS

Well, whether the twins are unhinged or not remains to be seen. Hogwarts has accepted them, bright and eager, on this first of September, 1973.

"Devilish gleam, my ruddy arse," I muttered hotly. "Thank you, um... Illiad, right?"

"Call me Illi," she said, taking the paper back. Everything about her spoke of the earth. Her eyes were a mossy green color, and she wore a chocolate brown jumper and soft, calf-skin pants. "And I wouldn't worry too much about what Madam Snape says, really. She's rather er... unhinged, herself."

"Then why publish such nonsense?" I grumbled.

Narcissa and her sister Bellatrix exchanged an amused glance. The blond girl spoke. "It gets readers and ratings."

"Then they shouldn't be called a newspaper, then," I said. "So I got high marks on their tests. Does that really make me crazy?"

Antonio cleared his throat softly. "Er, no, not really. You see, usually, people who have complete Obliviates do in fact go insane."

I gave him a withering look. "Do I seem insane to you?"

"Nope," Rabastan said lazily. "Which is precisely why you're interesting."

"And why everyone's staring," Bellatrix added.

"It'd be about the same if the Dark Lord decided to walk down the train, though I bet there'd be people trying to hex him," Narcissa said, grinning broadly. "You don't think you were really attacked by Death Eaters, do you?"

I thought back to what Healer Pomfrey had said. "No, I don't think I was. Not really. They would have killed me with my parents, if it'd really been them, right?"

"Right," Narcissa said. "And even then they'd only attack you because you were Mudblood or blood traitor."

I blinked owlishly. "A what and a what?"

The three girls stared at me. I felt a blush color my neck until Rabastan slowly spoke in his gruff way. "Don't stare at her, she's got enough of it as is." He leaned forward as the three girls got their composure back. "Listen, sweetie, it's like this. Our world is split into purebloods and Mudbloods, right? Purebloods have magic in them that is passed to them by people who have magic blood. Then there are Muggles who somehow get magic – they don't deserve it. Those are Mudbloods. Some magic people believe otherwise. They are blood traitors, people who turn against their own blood."

"Their own blood," I repeated. "Like turning on your family?"

The two boys chuckled softly. Antonio answered instead. "It's something like that, yes. Most wizarding families are related to one another. For instance, I am Cissa and Bella's third cousin once removed, and Illiad is something like my second twice removed."

"And he's technically my step-uncle," Rabastan said, nodding to the boy beside him. "So you see..." He trailed off lightly.

"I do," I said, nodding. Family. These people were a family and their own were turning against them. Over people who were outside of their family. I felt slightly sick to my stomach. "I don't... I don't know what I'd do without Molly and Scorpius. They are my family, too."

Narcissa smiled. "It is the same with myself, Bella, and Andy."

"Andy?" I queried.

"Our elder sister," Bellatrix explained. "Andromeda. She's a seventh-year this year. And our cousin Regulus. Don't forget him, Cissy."

Rabastan started rummaging around in his trunk. "You don't mind if I play a wireless, do you, Hecate?"

I knew from my internal library that a wireless played music. However, I had never heard music before. I hadn't watched the television, either. Eager to know what music sounded like, I nodded and shut my book. Rabastan twiddled with a dial on the small pinewood box. Rough sounds, like sandpaper over glass, came from it. Then, a smooth voice came over it.

"...was Sugardale with 'Witches Watch You', and now here's our own Johnny Cash with 'The Ballad of Ira Hayes'. Oh, you've gotta love these Americans!"

A noise unlike any other I'd ever heard came from the box. A smooth, sweet sound, like reeds waving in the wind came, and then a low-toned man began to murmur softly, sadly.

Ira Hayes,

Nor the Marine that went to War.

"Stupid Americans, more like," Illiad said fiercely. "Bloody righteous bunch of arseholes."

"Illi's mother is from across the pond," Narcissa explained. "Her mother was a Cherokee Indian."

"Was?" I asked.

"She died," Illiad said shortly. "Father named me for her favorite white man's poem." She smiled wistfully as the Ira Hayes song continued.

There they battled up

Nor the Marine that went to War.

"I like this song, even though it's a bit old," Narcissa said. "Cash has been a wild shot, though. Drunk, drugged, and Muggle-loving. His girl is Muggle."

Lucius returned after two or three more songs had played on the wireless. Rabastan turned it off. As though on cue, the compartment door slid open. An elderly witch stood there with a small cart full of sweets.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked.

There it was again. That rough feeling of déjà vu... but this was different again. I should be here with that boy with the red hair. Was he here on board the train? I fingered the brick piece in my pocket. It was sharp. I'd cut myself a few times on it already. But I refused to give it up. It was the same color as that boy's hair.

The same.

I waited patiently for the others to purchase their sweets and bought myself a large box of Sugar Quills. Of all the sweets we had bought in Diagon Alley, that was my favorite. It was quickly becoming a habit to have one stuck in my mouth while I read. When the trolley witch left, I asked my tenuous question.

"Are there any redheads on board the train?" I asked.

The three girls looked surprised, but Lucius answered without batting a single white-blond eyelash. "There are three that attended since last year, there may be more in the incoming first-years. Why do you ask?"

I felt rather silly with my piece of brick, but I pulled it out of my pocket anyway. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I had a snippet of a memory in Diagon Alley. I was with a boy whose hair was this color." I held it up for Lucius to see.

While the three girls shifted uncomfortably, Lucius just politely took the sharp stone. Antonio and Rabastan looked entirely unaffected by my odd questions. Lucius studied the stone quietly. He then handed it back to me with the same delicate way he'd kissed my knuckles that very day in Diagon Alley.

"There are no boys, that I am aware of," Lucius said, a tone of apology seeping into his silk-soft voice. "Unless they are incoming first-years, then there aren't any with that shade of hair coming in."

I sighed and put the brick piece away in my pocket. "I thought I'd ask."

"It's quite all right," Lucius said. "I would do the same had I lost every memory, only to find one. What triggered the memory, may I ask?"

Just a month ago, I had refused the same answers to boys my own age. I had not even told Scorpius about my memory snippet. And yet here I was divulging what I had kept from Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Scorpius Taylor. The question of why occurred to me.

I ignored it.

"When Molly, Scorpius, and I first went to Diagon Alley," I said. "It faded almost as quickly as it came. And I also had déjà vu when I came through onto the platform, and when the trolley came by."

Illiad leaned forward in her seat, studying me slightly. "You don't suppose you've gone to Hogwarts before, do you? I mean, maybe when you were really little or something?"

"I don't know," I groaned, frustrated. My hands plunged into my hair, the heels massaging my temples. "I mean, I Conjured up a chickadee on one of my tests, Dumbledore seemed to think that might mean I was from America... I don't know."

A hand found my shoulder and squeezed gently. "Hey. Don't worry about it so much, ooh-s-tee ooh-luh."

I glanced up at her, my hands still hovering near. "What does that mean?"

"It is my mother's tongue," she said, smiling softly. "It means 'little sister'."

Ooh-s-tee ooh-luh. Little sister. It was this phrase, perhaps more than anything else, that made me fit so easily into a culture I should not have been able to. Lucius Malfoy and Illiad Parkinson were my introduction into the political, troubling world of the Slytherins.

Not that the Hat didn't have something to do with it.

The rest of the ride aboard the Hogwarts Express went smoothly. Illi, Cissa, and Bella dissolved into talk of their holiday excursions. All three were fairly well-to-do. Illi had gone to Oklahoma, in the States, and stayed on an Indian Reservation with her mother's family – hence her small amount of Cherokee language. Cissa, Bella, Andromeda, and their cousin Regulus had gone to Paris. Hearing of these places made me wonder, truly, where I had come from.

What was I? British? American?

From my accent, the others thought that I had spent at least enough time in Britain to pick it up. Though Rabastan had argued that I had no memories of hearing any accent at all and I could have just picked it up because that's what I heard. The "what ifs" were endless, and I always ended up right back where I'd begun.

"You girls need to get dressed soon," Lucius said, nodding toward the window. "We're almost there." He ducked back out of the carriage. I could hear him informing other students that we were nearing Hogwarts.

Rabastan and Antonio left silently, and the four of us girls dressed quickly in their absence. I noticed that where my robes were empty black, the others all had a green Slytherin crest on them. Their ties were green and silver striped, with a simple green "S" emblem that appeared there after they had tied them. Their jumpers were all dark muted green. The skirts were all a deep navy so dark it only showed because the color popped against the black of the robes. Anything with green on them was a charcoal grey on me.

"It'll change once you're Sorted," Illi said, as though reading my mind. "Just leave your bags here. They'll be taken to your dorm later."

I nodded, nervous tendrils tightening at my limbs as the train began to slow. The sound of clambering, raucous noises of laughter and nerves spilled into the compartment. I made my way out into the sea of swirling students. Several paused to look at me oddly, but not for long. Most were too busy trying to shove their way out of the train.

A small girl with grey colors like mine stumbled to the ground in all the upheaval. I wasn't so big to keep the bodies at bay, but I was strong enough to heave her to her own feet again. She flashed a grateful smile up into my eyes. I followed her slowly out through the train doors so that she wouldn't get knocked over again. It was like this that Scorpius found me again.

"Hey, sorry about them," he said.

"It's okay," I said.

Outside, bouncing bauble-like lanterns were all that lit the broad platform. A large man, twice as tall as Scorpius and several times wider, called into the night. "Firs' years! Firs' years, gather 'round here! Scorpius and Hecate Taylor! Firs' years!"

I exchanged a glance with my brother. We headed for the large man and Scorpius tugged at his moleskin overcoat. "You called for us particularly, mister?"

"Ah, so you're them, then," said the tall man. "'Ang on, then. Firs' years! Firs' years!"

A small hand clenched into mine. I looked down to see the small girl again. She smiled shyly up at me. I held on to her hand a little tighter.

"I'm Hecate Taylor," I said softly as the remaining first-years began to huddle against the wind. "And this is my brother Scorpius."

"Alioth Mulciber, but most people call me Ali," she said quietly. In the gentle firelight from the lanterns, I couldn't tell if she was blond or just fair-haired. But her skin was so pale that it seemed to glow in the combined light of the moon and fire. She hesitated for only a moment. "You don't have your memories. You and him... right?"

I smiled down at her. She was so shy! "No, I'm afraid not. We're going to make the best of it here. Right, Scorpius?"

"Right, sis," he said. He grinned down at the small girl, who curled her other hand around my arm in nervous fright. Scorpius didn't take it poorly; he just backed off.

The large man hollered loudly for us to follow him. Ali and I slipped a bit in the path, but Scorpius kept us both safely on our feet. By the time we reached the edges of a large lake, the girl was giggling at Scorpius' joking manners.

"And then, the Snitch, if you'd believe it, walked right back into his open mouth!" Scorpius said, howling with laughter at his own joke. Ali chuckled softly, answering one question already: She was a pureblood, or at least half-blood.

The joke, being Quidditch-related, was lost on me.

"No more 'n four to a boat!" came the large man's voice. Sure enough, tiny rowboats without oars sat on the banks of the lake. Ali sat down beside me, still clutching on to my hand.

"Now don't move too much," I said. "We don't want the boat to tip."

She shook her head mutely, but the fear that was in her was not of falling into the lake. How odd. In fact, as Scorpius continued to joke all across the gentle waves, she seemed to relax more and more – as though leaving behind those things she feared. The boat ride was relaxing, an omen for things to come.

Scorpius, who had faced forward, released a startled gasp. Ali and I turned round. My lips flew apart, the same noise leaving me. The castle was enormous, far larger than any building I had ever come across. And yet, even as I took in the turrets and windows, the towers and stone, I could not help the feeling that I had been here before. Not only had I been here before; this was home.

Home.

As nothing else in the world had ever struck me, it was this that made me relax and smile in the seat. I was home. The warmth of that one notion overshadowed even the sharp brick digging into my thigh petulantly, reminding me that I had known someone, somewhere. I turned back around for the remainder of the ride, recalling a passage perfectly from a book I did not have before me.

First years cross Hogwarts' lake with the Keeper of Keys as more than just a simple tradition. It is there that the protective spells of ancient times are cast by the simple passing over the water. Students cross the water to receive spells that send their names to the Ministry when they perform underage magic, for instance. It is said that if the crossing is repeated, these spells are repealed. This is why elder students ride carriages drawn by thestrals.

It is also said that the current Headmaster or Headmistress uses these spells to "spy", as it were, on students. Usually, the practice is only used when the rule-breaker might get severely hurt.

I smiled to myself. Whether the idea was true or not, I had the feeling that as long as I knew Headmaster Dumbledore, things would be all right.

Ali, Scorpius, and I scrambled out of our shared boat and up into the warm, inviting entrance hall. I could not even see the ceiling above me. The walls were warm grey, lit by ever-burning torches. The firelight glinted off a pair of suits of armor and the white marble stairs opposite the door. The large man walked away, and it was only then that I noticed the dark-haired woman.

Everything about her bespoke of severity and sternness. Her hair was drawn in a tight, no-nonsense bun, her lips pressed in a thin line. Her square spectacles only made her thin, dark eyes all the more small and scary in her face. A cloak made of plaid draped over her shoulders in marked creases, her blouse and long skirt almost hiding her flat boots. They still made a harsh click every step she made.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, and her voice killed the entire image in one fell swoop. "I am Professor McGonagall. Through these doors your classmates await, but first you must be Sorted into your Houses. They are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin." Here she glanced at Scorpius and me with her sternest glare. The look was complete; her voice left much to be desired. "Your House will be like your family."

Family?

She continued on, even though I think I may have said that out loud. I could hear some of the first-years snickering. "You will sleep in your House dormitories, take classes with your Housemates, and spend your spare time in your House common rooms. Triumphs will earn points; rule-breaking will lose them."

A girl who looked much like an older version of Bellatrix Black stuck her head out the oak double-doors. "We're ready, Professor."

"Thank you, Miss Black," McGonagall said. She turned back to us. "Smarten yourselves up; here we go."

Scorpius took McGonagall at her word and began furiously finger-combing his hair. I don't know why – he looked perfectly fine to me. The Great Hall doors swung open and with it went my jaw. Four long tables, piled high with golden plates, goblets, cutlery, and tablecloths in their respective colors, sat along the hall. At the head was another table, this one draped in black. Teachers sat there, including Headmaster Dumbledore in the very middle.

But what made my jaw drop was the ceiling – or rather the seeming lack thereof. I knew from reading that it was bewitched, but to really see the night sky, the stars twinkling overhead... It was a sight that needs to be seen. Candles floated everywhere, sconces lined one wall, and huge hourglasses hung on another. They were filled with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, and alexandrite. They were all currently lying at the bottom of the glasses.

Illi waved excitedly from the green-swathed table. Remus gave a more subtle twiddle of fingers from the red one. I spotted the girl from the train, the Ravenclaw who'd told me not to go into Slytherin, sitting at the blue. I sniffed inwardly. No way in hell would I go into her House.

Ali grabbed my hand again, all but hiding her head under my arm. I whispered softly to her. "It's okay, Ali. No one's going to hurt you."

She smiled up at me and nodded. She stopped trying to hide but she still clung on to my hand. I whispered to her again. "That's not really the night sky, you know. It's bewitched. The Founders did it, over a thousand years ago."

Ali stared up at the ceiling, wide-eyed. I kept hold of her so she wouldn't fall down from not watching in front of her. "Really, Hecate?"

"Really," I said. "I think it was Hufflepuff. She was the Charms mistress, after all."

I could see the question on the tip of her tongue, but I shushed her for now. "We're going to get Sorted."

She nodded and stood between Scorpius and me as McGonagall fluffed up a long piece of parchment. A four-legged stool sat on the dais behind her. On it sat an ancient hat with many darns, many patches of various colors, and a large rip at its rim. It was at this rip that it opened like a mouth – and began to sing.

Gryffindor, grey and

Color to make your tie!

Uncertainly, I clapped along with the rest of the Great Hall. Ali's hand found mine again shortly after. I smiled down at her as McGonagall ruffled the parchment again.

"When I call your name, please come up, and I will place the Hat on your head," she said. "Alders, Mary!"

A particularly large girl with large blue eyes all but skipped up to the stool. The Hat was barely on her head for a second when it shouted for the entire hall to hear: "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The change to her uniform was instantaneous, but I doubted that she noticed. The tie turned yellow and black striped and a patch with a black badger on a yellow background appeared on her robes. Her jumper turned a muted tan. The yellow-clothed table cheered and welcomed her with open, friendly arms.

"Black, Regulus!"

The entire lengths of the red and green tables held their breaths, it seemed. The tension in the room was tenfold over this one little boy. That's when I recalled that Sirius Black, this boy's elder brother, was a Gryffindor. All three of his female cousins, however, were Slytherin.

The Hat took several long seconds atop the small black-haired boy's head. He looked much like Sirius, blessed with a cute, strong nose, beautifully spaced blue eyes, and aristocratic cheeks. Where Sirius' hair was long, curly, and staggeringly soft, this boy had wavy hair, more silk than feather. Ali and I watched him. Scorpius' gaze, however, was on Sirius.

Finally, the Hat shouted: "SLYTHERIN!"

Sirius Black slumped in his seat, covering his face in his hands. James and Remus patted him on the back and the chubby boy Peter patted his head of curls. Sirius seemed to come back to himself, because he started smacking at Peter's hands. On the Slytherin side of things, however, Narcissa and Bellatrix had opened up a space between them for their youngest cousin. Both leaned in and kissed his cheeks on either side, making the cute boy blush.

"Bulstrode, Armstrong!" A few snickers followed this name, but the huge boy who sat down on the stool stilled most of them. He looked more like my age than the eleven he should be. The Hat wasn't even on his head when it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

There were more students after that, but I didn't pay as much attention. As we got closer and closer to the "M" on the list, my hand was losing more and more of its blood. I subtly stroked Ali's hair with my free hand and rubbed circles on the hand that clutched me.

"Mulciber, Alioth!" McGonagall's voice came.

I thought she was scared before; now she was terrified. Now she held my hand with both hers and my fingers turned purple, then white with her fear. Her wide, pale green eyes turned up to me. I smiled reassuringly and unwrapped my hands. Scorpius and I both gave her a gentle push toward the professor.

McGonagall managed to soften her gaze for the young, frightened girl. She stumbled a bit, but another first-year caught her before she fell. Ali sat down, trembling, on the stool. Her pale green eyes locked onto mine just as the Hat fell over them.

The Hat sat on her head for minutes, not the seconds that most had before. Only Regulus Black had seen the inside seam of the giant wizard's triangle for so long. After several moments, the brim opened up. "SLYTHERIN!'

Regulus Black offered the frightened girl a place across from him and his cousins, which she took with a grateful smile.

The first years trickled down and down until at last there was only a first-year whose name probably came after "T," Scorpius, and me. McGonagall fluffed up the parchment again. I took a deep breath.

"Taylor, Hecate."

I walked up to the front of the Hall and sat down with all the grace I could manage. Lucius smiled at me from his place at the Slytherin table. The Hat fell over my eyes, my heart pounding now. Why had I been so calm before?

The Hat spoke in my mind. "Hmm, so we meet at last, Obliviated one."

I scowled.

It laughed at me. "Yes, quite a dilemma. You see, I usually use memories to place people. From what I've seen, however, you'd do well in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Do you wish to have the choice?"

Slytherin, I thought. I enjoyed the people there.

And without saying another word, the Hat shouted my choice. "SLYTHERIN!"

I grinned and bounced off the seat to applause from the green-swathed table. I sat down at the empty space beside Ali and across from the Blacks. Lucius sat on the other side of the small girl I'd met on the platform. The black-haired girl who had told McGonagall that they were ready sat on the other side of Bellatrix. The resemblance was even more defined with them side by side.

I turned around in my seat and held my breath. Would Scorpius follow me into Slytherin? Would he end up in Gryffindor with the Marauders? He was smart too, like a Ravenclaw. Would he end up there? I grit my teeth. Ali's tiny hand found mine and squeezed. I smiled down at her.

"It'll be okay," she whispered.

I nodded and we both turned as McGonagall called Scorpius' name. The Hat fell over his eyes. We waited while the Hat spoke to him. The seconds ticked away on the invisible clock in my head.

After what felt like an eternity, the Hat's brim opened up....

_-~*~-_

I think that is the first time I've ever left such an overhanging cliffhanger. At any rate, I did promise you guys some more notes. Illiad Parkinson is indeed Pansy's mother. The reason that she passed on her surname maternally will be explained later. The pug nose came from her dad. Cookies for the people who know where Illi's name originates! Hint: The name becomes ilium in Latin, which means pertaining to the city proper.

As for Alioth, her name is another star found in Ursa Major. It means "dark horse". The connection becomes rather important later on, though not in the usual way.