693Chapter 4: The Second Sorting
No matter how lost in conversation he became, Draco couldn't stop focusing on everything that was different. The first thing he noticed was how Crabbe and Goyle didn't show up to bully his two new friends. Apparently without Draco they stayed in their compartment the entire trip with Pansy. After that, as far as he knew, all went the same. Granger popped in and told the two to change, then they arrived at the station to hear Hagrid calling all the first years to the docks.
Instead of déjà vu, this time Draco was struck by nostalgia. They were escorted across the lake on magical boats to see the best view of Hogwarts. He could hear the whispers of awe and excitement, but just watched the castle with a small smile on his face. It had been his home away from home, especially after he became a werewolf. It was as much like coming home as waking up in his bed a month ago.
The trip up to the school was full of as many memories as the trip across the lake and he continued to smile all through Professor McGonagall's introductory speech. Draco could hardly believe he was back, or how weird it was to know exactly what was going to happen before it did. He was even different, far quieter than he had been at this age. The twenty year old mind in his eleven year old body had no use for inane chatter, though it couldn't stop the fidgeting. Like before, he just could not sit still.
"Nervous?" surprised, Draco looked not at Harry, but at Ron as the source of the question.
"A little," he admitted.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked.
Ron's looked just as nervous as Draco, "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
At the words, he watched the dread spread out over the faces around him. Granger started muttering spells she had already learned, Longbottom squeezed his toad so hard it croaked, and Harry looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink into a hole in the ground and disappear. It was so strange, seeing these people react with such fright. He had fought with them, laughed with them…died with them. Now they were just children. Scared children.
"It's no big deal," Draco piped up, "My dad told me about it. We're sorted based on our personalities and which house will help us the most to succeed in life." Every pair of eyes in the hall turned to him. Despite the many gazes, he focused his last words on Harry, "Don't worry. You can't fail." The grateful smile he received was all Draco needed to quell his own nerves. He could do this, no matter how pissed his father would be when he found out, if he could save Harry.
The school ghosts chose that moment appear and take all the attention of Draco. Unlike the others, he wasn't surprised and grinned at some of the more frightened faces. Then McGonagall was back, ordering them into a line so they could file into the Great Hall. It was everything he remembered, floating candles, enchanted ceiling, whispering students and the Professors looming over it all on their raised table at the end of the hall. Despite himself, Draco's gaze settled onto Quirrel and his giant, purple turban. He couldn't help but shiver, knowing what was under that cloth wrap. Was Voldemort watching them now? He really couldn't tell, but he knew what was left of the Dark Lord was there, leeching off of Quirrel like a…well, like a leech. Did Dumbledore already suspect the Professor of being such a monster?
Abrupt applause alerted Draco that the Sorting Hat had finished his song. Professor McGonagall started calling names and he watched as everyone was sorted ahead of him exactly as before. Crabbe and Goyle went into Slytherin, Granger went to Gryffindor, as did Longbottom. Then it was his turn and, taking a bracing deep breath, he walked to the stool and took his seat. The memory of his first sorting was vivid: his pride at his instant Slytherin sorting and the enthusiastic greetings of his House.
Not this time.
The hat slipped over his eyes and a small voice whispered to him. "Interesting, very interesting. Not Slytherin, then? You've made up your mind? Well, then. As you like, it will be GRYFFINDOR." The last word was shouted to the entire Great Hall and he heard the whispers immediately from the Slytherin table. Was this how Black had felt when he betrayed his family to join the rival House? Eyes pierced him, scowls promised hexes in the halls, and the Gryffindor house wasn't any more welcoming. The Weasleys were fixing identical glares at him as he walked rigidly to their table. He imagined he looked to be in shock, but really he was terrified. Sitting next to Hermione Granger, he knew the future had just changed irrevocably, one way or the other, and there was no going back.