One rickety stagecoach ride later, and our little group was finally back at Hogwarts. Ahh, good old Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, with its towers, its dungeons, its gates and, of course, the endless bickering between Harry's and Draco's groups.
As Oleandra disembarked from her stagecoach, she heard Draco's familiar drawling voice.
"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"
And inevitably, Ron fell for the bait and responded.
"Shove off, Malfoy."
However, the argument was interrupted by the new professor, and both of the fighters returned to their own corners smugly, each thinking they had won. It was a good thing for Draco that Professor Lupin had done as he did, as Oleandra would have had some very choice words for Draco concerning making fun of people experiencing fainting spells after encountering Dementors.
As Oleandra and the others made their way to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony and the feast, they were accosted by Professor McGonagall, who was being followed by Harry and Granger. Oleandra looked warily at the Transfiguration professor. Whenever she and Professor McGonagall had clashed, Oleandra had almost never got out of the encounter unscathed. What did the old crone want with her now?
"Greengrass! And you as well," said Professor McGonagall, when Daphne pointed at herself to make sure who she was referring to. "If you'll follow me."
Oleandra looked at Harry and Granger, who looked back at her helplessly. What on earth did she want with them?
"Now, Severus was supposed to be here as well, but he's otherwise occupied right now," said Professor McGonagall. Noticing the looks she was getting, she added, "There's no need to look so worried. Just follow me, you four."
After a small walk, they had arrived inside her office. Professor McGonagall waved her wand, causing two additional chairs to spawn in. She sat down behind her desk and gestured for the four to sit down.
"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead from the train," she began abruptly. "Now, I don't mean to doubt the knowledge of our newest teacher, but given our track record with past Defense Against the Dark Arts appointees, I really must make sure. Miss Greengrass, you look awfully chipper for someone who's been Kissed by a Dementor."
Harry's eyes went as wide as saucers when he heard this.
"That's what the Auror working with the Dementor said," responded Oleandra. "It removed its hood and it definitely tried to do something, but it didn't work."
There was a knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey walked in.
"Well, if it isn't the usual suspects," tsk-tsked Madam Pomfrey. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"
"Dementors, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall. "Potter was attacked, and Greengrass was Kissed. Apparently."
"Setting Dementors around a school," tut-tutted Madam Pomfrey, taking a look at the two. "She looks fine to me, but he seems rather wobbly. Terrible creatures, Dementors are. For delicate people like him—"
"I'm not delicate!" cried Harry, trying to save the last of his sense of self-worth.
"Of course you aren't," said Madam Pomfrey with two fingers on his wrist.
"Um, if we're fine, could we go back to the Great Hall?" said Oleandra. "We're going to miss our little sister's sorting—"
"Hm?" said Professor McGonagall distractedly. "Poppy, is she fine? No need for a stay in the hospital wing?"
"If you feel fine, then you can go," said Madam Pomfrey. "If you start feeling faint, have some chocolate."
Just as Oleandra and Daphne were about to leave, Professor McGonagall spoke again.
"Ahem, you need to stay, Greengrass. No, not you, the other one. You are Daphne, correct?"
Daphne nodded.
"Potter, Greengrass, you may leave," said Professor McGonagall. "I need to talk with the other two about their course schedules."
"I'll go on ahead," Oleandra told Harry, and she ran down to the Great Hall, where the Sorting Ceremony was already underway.
There weren't many Wizards compared to Muggles in Britain, so it stood to reason that there wouldn't be too many new students each year, even though Hogwarts accepted children from all over the British Isles. From what Oleandra could tell, there couldn't be more than fifty new first years. But that number was still higher than those of the last few years, as there had been a baby boom after Voldemort's defeat at the hands of the one-year-old Harry.
Up on the stage, the diminutive Professor Flitwick was conducting the ceremony. It was a rather peculiar sight; at his height, he needed to jump to manage to place the Sorting Hat on top of a student's head.
"Greengrass, Astoria!" called out Professor Flitwick.
Oleandra didn't have to wait too long until it was finally Astoria's turn. She dutifully trotted up to the stage and sat on the stool. At this point, Professor Flitwick had had enough of jumping and had resorted to simply levitating the Sorting Hat on top of the children's heads, which he did for Astoria.
What was taking so long? The hat was taking its sweet time deciding on Slytherin. Unless…
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
A hush fell over the audience. Ordinarily, noble wizarding families were extremely set in their ways. For example, Longbottoms and Weasleys were Gryffindors, Malfoys and Notts were Slytherins. It was inordinately rare for exceptions to appear, but it's not as if they were inexistent. In fact, for the teachers, there was one case that came to mind, especially highlighted due to this year's events. A certain young Black had been placed in Gryffindor, after all…
Oleandra slapped her palm against her face. Just what was that girl doing now? Astoria was currently looking into the Sorting Hat's head hole and shaking it up and down above her head, almost as if she were trying to —
And then, it finally hit her. Astoria was trying to make Gryffindor's Sword appear out of the hat! Oleandra and Daphne had spent the last two years writing home about their heroics, unintentionally igniting the adventurer's spirit buried deep inside their little sister. And thus, Gryffindor had become to the House that most represented her, which had led to predictable results.
"Mother's going to kill us when she finds out!" Oleandra thought to herself, already sweating. But it's not as if it was the end of the world. Sorting into Slytherin was somewhat of a family tradition, but that was not a be-all and end-all, as Iris herself had married a Gryffindor.
Incidentally, Oleandra's parents refused to say how they had met. They had married a year after graduating, and Oleandra's grandparents had already been dead by then, so it couldn't have been an arranged marriage. Actually, Oleandra preferred not to dwell overlong on the subject, now that she thought about it.