Oleandra had hardly registered the Hogwarts Express's arrival at the station. She had spent the last hour alternating between feeling mortified about embarrassing herself in front of a muggle-born of all people, and extreme boredom pretending to listen to Pansy. She was awakened from her trance upon hearing a loud gruff voice speaking in a thick accent, "No more'n four to a boat!"
Oleandra looked up from her shoes, finally noticing her surroundings. The first years had been separated from the rest, and had been assembled on the shore of a huge lake. A thick fog roiled over the waters, and above one could see Hogwarts Castle and its many towers, illuminated by hundreds of torches.
"Sorry sis," said a voice behind her, "looks like ours is full."
Pansy, Daphne, Millicent and … oh yes, Tracey, had chosen to sit together, leaving Oleandra to find three other misfits to enjoy a boat ride with.
Soon, all the children had clambered aboard a boat. The small fleet launched simultaneously, as if pulled by invisible strings, heading towards Hogwarts's boathouse.
A small splashing sound reached Oleandra's ears, followed by a distressed, "My Remembrall!" She sighed.
Before long, the boats had arrived, steps were climbed, and before she knew it, Oleandra stood before Hogwarts's front door.
The doors opened to reveal a tall witch, dressed in a fancy green dress robe. From what she could hear way at the back of the crowd, it seemed that this motley group was to follow this Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall. After some time, they had reached another set of enormous, double doors. Here, Professor McGonagall explained the concept of the different Houses.
Oleandra's parents had attended Hogwarts, so she already knew about this. There were four Houses. Gryffindor, home of the callow oafs. Hufflepuff, home of the worthless idiots. Ravenclaw, home of the bookworm nerds. And finally, Slytherin, home of the noble wizards. Each house competed against each other with House points, gained from doing well in school, and lost from rule breaking. At the end of the year, the House with the most points won the dubious honour of knowing that they had been the best that year, as well as the House Cup of uncertain value that they didn't even get to keep.
Suddenly, ghosts flew out from the walls, interrupting Oleandra's recollection of her mother's totally unbiased explanations. One of them caught her attention, a ghost whose clothes were drenched in blood. Or it might have been ketchup. It was hard to tell, since ghosts are see-through. Professor McGonagall once again gathered all the first years, and took them through the double doors to the Great Hall, where all the other students already sat, arranged in four, long tables.
On a stool, a pointy wizard hat opened the folds that constituted its mouth and started singing a song describing the four houses. As soon as it stopped, the Sorting Ceremony started! Professor McGonagall started out calling the first-year students' names.
"Abott, Hannah!"
The young witch put on the hat, upon which it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
And then the names jumped straight into the "Bs."
"Bulstrode, Millicent" was, of course, sorted into Slytherin.
As the ceremony proceeded, Oleandra became more and more unsure of herself. What if she wasn't sorted into Slytherin? She was already on shaky ground, so would her parents disown her? And ever since she had set foot in the castle, the lights that only she could see had increased in number to blinding levels. It was giving her a serious headache.
"Granger, Hermione!" called Professor McGonagall.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat exclaimed.
And then it was the Greengrass twins' turn.
"Greengrass, Daphne!"
It didn't take long for the hat to shout, "Slytherin!"
And now it was her turn.
"Greengrass, Oleandra!"
With shaky steps, Oleandra walked up to the stool and gently put the hat on her head. It sank down to her chin, as it was much too large for her small head. As she reached up to adjust it, she heard a voice in her ears, "Hmm, tricky."
"Courageous, and also mischievous," continued the hat, "I sense a strong talent in herbology, and a powerful desire to learn. Ambition as well, in great measure. Well, well, what a conundrum."
"Anything but Hufflepuff, anything but Hufflepuff," murmured Oleandra.
"Is that so?" asked the sorting hat, "the atmosphere of Hufflepuff would do you great good, haven't you always felt lonely? You could use the companionship. Gryffindor would do as well."
"I'd rather not," Oleandra winced. "I'd rather be recognized for my efforts than rot in mediocrity."
"In that case…"
"Slytherin!" the hat shouted.
Thunderous applause came from the Slytherin table.
Oleandra quickly trudged to the table, almost tripping in her robes.
The sorting ceremony continued on without many surprises. The scions of the Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Parkinson families were all sorted into Slytherin with her.
And then came the boy who lived.
"Potter, Harry!"
And more than a few moments later came the corresponding response.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
But at that moment, Oleandra couldn't care less. She clutched her face in pain. The lights and the colours were overwhelming her, but nobody seemed to notice her plight, fixated as they were on the saviour. An unknown period of time passed, the world melting into a slurry of sounds and lights. Oleandra barely made out the words, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
And then food appeared in front of her with an accompanying eye-piercing light show. As Oleandra massaged her aching temples, the world suddenly turned back to normal. Good thing too, as she was on the verge of fainting into what looked like a bowl of gravy. Completely puzzled, yet mostly relieved, she decided to reward herself with some steak with a side of fries.
After polishing off a piece of key-lime pie for dessert, Oleandra was going to dig into the whipped cream she had kept for last—the dessert's dessert, her mother had called this habit of hers—, when to her dismay, everyone's plates disappeared.
The headmaster, Dumbledore stood up.
"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore punctuated this remark by glancing at the Gryffindor table.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Oleandra pricked up her ears upon hearing this. Surely, he was joking?
And then came the time to sing the school song. Oleandra elected to lip sync the song, as she was a bit too self-conscious to sing the ridiculous lyrics out loud.
The Slytherin first years followed their prefect out of the Great Hall, and into the dungeons. Soon they had arrived in an empty room. A prefect approached a wall and said, "Dignified death." A great stone serpent rose from the floor and arched its body, and a door appeared on the wall under the stone snake. After entering the Slytherin common room, Oleandra rushed to find herself a nice room with a view of the murky depths of the Black Lake, fell into her bed and quickly fell asleep, exhausted.