Kapitel 303: The Sorting Hat's Warning

"It's strange, isn't it?" Astoria remarked as the carriage rolled away from Hogsmeade station. "Usually, it's Hagrid who greets us off the train. I wonder where he is?"

"Is that so?" said Oleandra dully. "I wasn't paying attention."

This put a bit of a damper in the conversation, but she truly hadn't noticed; it had been an emotionally charged day for all of them, but Astoria was unusually perceptive about this kind of thing.

Their stagecoach continued on its merry way to the castle, bumping and rattling over every small dent in the road and popping its occupants a foot in the air each time a wheel hit a pothole. Oleandra winced after landing back in her seat for the tenth time and massaged her bruised backside; these rolling deathtraps didn't have the best of suspensions.

One short, albeit uncomfortable ride later, the girls were climbing up the steps to the front gate, and then moments later, crossing through the Entrance Hall. Here, Astoria bid the others goodbye and sped off to rejoin her friend Ginny. The Slytherin and Gryffindor tables in the Great Hall were separated by those of the two other Houses, so they would have had to say goodbye sooner or later.

The instant she set foot in the Great Hall, a shiver ran down Oleandra's spine, as she felt hundreds of eyes fall upon her; some students were even blatantly pointing and staring at her as they whispered among each other.

Some of her fellow Slytherins' reactions were the most exaggerated, though not all of them reacted the same way. Draco had already seen her, and Crabbe and Goyle were probably too thick to even remember her name, let alone remember the fact that she was supposed to be dead, so they didn't outwardly show any shock. Theodore Nott and a few others, however, nearly jumped out of their seats upon seeing her.

"Take a picture, why don't you," Daphne snapped at Blaise Zabini. "It'll last longer."

Blaise liked to think of himself as irresistible to women, and while it was true that he was a pretty boy, his rubbish personality worked quite effectively as a repellent to compensate for that fact. Daphne hated him with a passion, and she had even got Oleandra to successfully sabotage their engagement years ago. In any case, he was the only one who hadn't reacted to them any differently than usual, but that was only because he was a pervert of the worst variety who thought of nothing else but himself.

Oleandra, Daphne and Tracey sat themselves at their usual spots at their table and looked over to the teachers. Professor Moody was no longer there; which meant that the real one had declined Professor Dumbledore's job offer. Perhaps he was too ashamed to show his face around here, knowing he had been so easily replaced by a fake?

Professor Moody wasn't the only one to be missing from the previous year's roster— Professors Hagrid and Babbling, who taught Care of Magical Creatures and Study of Ancient Runes respectively, were also absent from the staff table.

In Professor Moody's place sat a short, barrel-like woman who rather looked like a squatting toad. She was dressed in lurid pink clothes; a cardigan and a short skirt, but Oleandra didn't judge her choice of outfit, tacky as it was. She liked to dress up herself, but she didn't often get the chance to; her wardrobe was just that depressingly empty. She only owned a few Muggle clothes, most of which didn't fit her any more, as well as her school robes and her Basilisk robes.

But Oleandra brightened up; she had her own spending money now! She'd go clothes shopping on the first Hogsmeade weekend; there was a branch of Gladrags Wizardwear on the main street, as well as a Twilfitt and Tattings. And perhaps she'd also get some new boots, and some new shoes!

A loud voice suddenly shook Oleandra awake from her daydreams; the Sorting Hat had just burst into song:

In these hallowed halls where magic thrives,

The Sorting Hat once again revives,

To sing you a song, a word to the wise,

To sort the students who arise,

Into the Houses four, bold or sly,

Loyal or witty, that which they best personify.

Daring Gryffindor, with eyes bright,

Faced the darkness and brought forth light,

Hufflepuff, in loyalty remained true,

Urged them all to stick together, old and new.

Ravenclaw, with wisdom's grace,

Indifferently sought the truth in every place.

Slytherin, ambitious and keen,

Two choices, was torn between.

Yet 'fore I sort, heed this warning,

Our Hogwarts danger is nearing,

Beyond these walls so grand,

Dark forces plot, and shadows stand,

Seeking power across the land,

Against them, united we must band.

Foes may lurk, both far and near,

But Hogwarts' unity we hold dear,

And our hearts remain sincere,

Against all odds, we persevere.

So listen well to my ancient lore,

For the Hat sees what's at your core,

Be it bravery, loyalty, wisdom, and cunning,

But enough with the singing,

It is now time for the Sorting.

Scattered applause rang out in the Hall when the Sorting Hat ended its song. Oleandra, Daphne and Tracey exchanged glances.

"It's gone a bit off topic this year, innit?" said Tracey, raising an eyebrow.

"It's always been a bit biased against Slytherin," Daphne commented. "But it's stressing unity quite a lot this year. I daresay Dumbledore's worried about us turning into the next generation of You-Know-Who's army."

Oleandra kept her mouth firmly shut. Everyone at this table knew Voldemort was back, and they knew he would no doubt try to reclaim all he had lost. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty over her plans of forming a third party in this conflict between good and evil, and reap all the benefits once the fighting was over. This was exactly what the Hat was warning against, but she still had to go ahead with her plans. For the greater good, she told herself. For Mistbound Avalon. For the Muggles' own sakes.

She looked at her fellow Slytherins, most of which were whispering among themselves conspiratorially. It would take an incredible feat of magic to turn them away from the Dark Lord and towards her. As things stood, Oleandra didn't believe for a single second that she could convince a single person to take her side; not even her own sisters or Tracey. Even if she promised endless riches, nobody would join her if she didn't have the power to shield them from Voldemort; what good were Galleons if you were too dead to enjoy them?

"What do you think, Sis?" said Daphne, nudging her with her elbow.

"I think the Hat's warning will fall on deaf ears," Oleandra said darkly.

She had completely disregarded the Hat's words, and she was sure she wasn't the only one.