This fic was started due to a poll I have on my profile page. The poll asks what kind of fics people wish me to write. Well, as Harry Potter is currently in the lead...(not by much, as there are only two votes atm...), here is my newest fic, Times are Changing.
As always (though I sometimes forget to mention it...), I don't own Harry Potter.
Reviews are always welcome :)
"Hello," the girl spoke softly as she opened the door to the compartment. She had medium length, curly brown hair—the type of curly that bushed out once brushed. Her eyes shown a soft brown, nervous and unsure. She already wore the uniform for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
The boy who sat upon one of the benches in the compartment looked up from his book to turn towards the entryway. "Hello," he spoke back, in a neutral tone. The 11 year-old child didn't know how he should act; if he was cold, she would walk away. If he was warm and bubbly, he could possibly have a friend who would expect him to act a certain way. Ergo, he went with neutral to see where the conversation may lead.
The girl shyly looked at him and asked if she may take a seat, sharing the compartment with him. "Alright," he said, "but first, tell me your name."
She looked a little surprised—flustered even, as she realized she forgot to introduce herself. "Hermione Granger. And you?"
In another lifetime, Hermoine would then be surprised and go off on a mini tangent, speaking of how she read about him in countless book. However, she noticed that he was slightly tentative about speaking his name, as if unused to the fame. Maybe those books were not correct about him, she thought. Instead, Hermoine took pose of trying to think. She wasn't use to socializing with her peers beyond the random student asking her to do the homework for them (which she felt offended by, and said no every time).
"What do you like to do?" Harry asked, cutting her train of thought.
"Read. I can easily spend all day in the library. It doesn't matter the type of book either—history, science, fiction—it doesn't matter. I love learning." He could tell the matter meant a lot to her, but instead of speaking in detail of the books like he thought she would, she instead asked him about what he liked.
"Hm. I guess I like to read too, but my main passion is art." Harry wasn't allowed to get better grades than his cousin, Dudley, in most all classes. Art was an exception, as his uncle considered it to be a 'pansy-profession.' He snorted at the thought: Yeah, right. The boy did read, however, as he often spent time in the library to avoid Harry Hunting.
"Art? What kind do you do? Whose your favorite artist of all time? Your main inspiration..."
The conversation continued for quite some time. Harry and Hermoine both were surprised that there was someone they could speak to about whatever. Surprised that they can be themselves without being shunned and lonely. No one else came into the compartment either, which to both of the socially inept students, was a blessing.
Finally, the most commonly asked question to those entering their first year arose: "What house do you think you'll be in?" Hermione was the one to raise the question, as she hoped she could be in the same house as her new friend, but was unsure if it was meant to be.
"I'm not sure," Harry began tentatively, "I feel like I can fit into any of them." At Hermione's raised eyebrow, he answered the unasked query, "I like to work hard towards my goals, though those goals usually relate to completing a current art project. Ergo, I wouldn't have much issue with Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw wouldn't be bad either, as I like to read, and like you, learn new things that I can apply to my life. Gryffindor would be an interesting fit, as I do, sometimes, stand up for what is right." He mumbled under his breath though: As long as I don't get beaten or abused further by doing so. Hermione heard it, however, but decided not to stop his train of thought. She would owl her parents about it later, though; maybe tell a professor too. "And finally, I can, at times, be quite cunning, so Slytherin would work too."
Hermione replied, "With your explanation, I'm thinking that anyone can really be in any house, as everyone has traits like those. However, it is the quantity of each ideal that allows someone to be sorted into a house. Or maybe, even, the ideal which we wish to work towards would sort us. I'm not sure. No matter the house(s) we may be in, however, could you still be my friend?"
The train pulled into the station around dinnertime, and though it was still early in the evening, the sky shown black as night. The moon and stars twinkled and shined, lighting up the otherwise dark night.
A friendly giant—Hagrid, Harry told her—told all the first years to follow him towards the boats. Crossing the lake proved to be an experience, as they saw the beauty of the castle filled with twinkling lights.
After reaching the shore and walking up a few steps, Hagrid introduced them to a Professor McGonagall, who brought them into a small room, spoke to them about "smartening up" their looks, and finally brought them into the great hall.
Hermione and Harry looked on in amazement. Seeing everything from the enchanted ceiling, to the free-floating chandeliers, to an old hat sitting upon a stool at just in front of the staff table. That last thing confused them both, until it opened it's mouth to sing. The Sorting Hat, that makes a bit more sense.
Professor McGonagall started calling names in alphabetical order. Yet, neither of the two payed much attention to the sorting, as they both worried about where they would be themselves, as they wished not to separate from the other.
"Good luck," Harry whispered.
She took her steps toward the hat; nervous, but proud her stance was, but full of grace when she sat down. The hat took a bit of time—a few minutes to be exact—but after the deliberation, the hat decided. "Slytherin!" The table she moved towards looked shocked (maybe from the lack of a well-known name, she thought), but politely applauded for her anyways.
The sorting continued.
Once "Potter, Harry" was sorted into the pit of snakes, just like Hermione, the Slytherins were confused once again. Looking at the head table, Hermione noticed that the Headmaster's eyes gave away to anger before schooling back into a joyful expression. The other professors just looked confused like the table of students she was surrounded by.
Harry sat right next to her at the table.
Once the feast started, there were many questions that were target towards the pair: "Are you really Harry Potter?", "Why are you sorted in this house?", "More like how are you sorted here?", "Granger, what is your blood status? Are you related to Dagworth-Granger?", "How is it..."
"Oi! Shut up and let them speak. If you keep asking questions, how are they supposed to answer if you don't give them the time to do so?" A blond boy spoke up for the two. He then introduced himself, "By the way, I'm Malfoy—Draco Malfoy." He nodded at the pair in greeting, then motioned them to answer the questions.
"Yes, I am Harry Potter; yes, I have the scar to prove it. I'm sorted here as the hat figured I had the qualities to fit into this house. As to why or how I have those qualities, well, you need to figure that out for yourselves." Harry spoke.
Hermione took over: "I'm not sure if I am related to Dagworth-Granger or not. My parents just go by 'Granger.' I'm also not entirely sure of my status. Sure, I was muggle-raised, but my parents were not overly surprised that I had magic. Maybe they are squibs, maybe they are not. Does it really matter? I have the qualities to get into this house based upon my own merit. Doesn't that tell you something?"
That shut the others right up.
After dinner, and after being brought to the common room, the prefects described the rules of slytherin to the new students. After that, Professor Snape walked in, introduced himself to the students, then told them to head off to bed. However, he asked both Hermione and Harry to follow him to his office. Once all three sat down and had a cup of tea in hand, he began.
"Potter, Granger, I'm not sure how you both managed to end up in this house. However, one major part of this house is the saying we stand by: 'Slytherins protect their own.' I will do my best to enforce that—especially with the two of you being who you are. If you need anything, I will be available, and will try my best to help. Know that I will not be this generous with the other houses by any means. Also, just because I am nice to my slytherins doesn't mean that I go easy on them. I want you all to grow to your potential. Do you have any questions or concerns for me?"
Neither expected quite a speech from the sour-looking man. Hermione decided to ask some questions, as she figured that she should take advantage of the man's current kindness. "Sir, I have a couple of things to bring up. Is it possible to test to see whom I am related to? Someone suggested at dinner that I could possibly be related to Dagworth-Granger, and I was wondering if there was a way to see."
The professor looked at her curiously, "I have a potion that would allow us to see your lineage."
Harry spoke up: "Can I do that too? My aunt never really said anything about my relatives, and I wish to know who they are."
The professor's curiosity turned into confusion, "You lived with Petunia?" He then mumbled softly, "Of all the people he could have gone to—Petunia?"
Harry took on a wide-eyed, scared look. "You know my aunt?"
Snape looked straight into his eye. "I lived in the same neighborhood as your mother and aunt while growing up. I was good friends with your mother until 5th year, when I made a major mistake that I never could ask forgiveness for. Anyways, after you both get your answers to whom your family is, I would like to speak with you, privately, Potter."
Hermione Jean Granger (Pureblood)
Father: Daniel Dagworth-Granger (Alive, Squib)
Mother: Emma Granger-Ollivander (Alive, Squib)
Harry James Potter (Pureblood)
Father: James Fleamont Potter (Deceased, Pureblood)
Mother: Lily Ann Potter nee Evans (Deceased, Pureblood)
Aunt: Petunia Dursley nee Evans (Alive, Squib)
Uncle: Vernon Dursley (Alive, Muggle)
Cousin: Dudley Dursley (Alive, Squib)
Grandfather, Mother's Side: William Evans (Deceased, Squib, Adopted from Slytherin)
Grandmother, Mother's Side: Gloria Warbeck (Deceased, Squib)
"Oh dear. You're the heir of Slytherin."
Professor Severus Snape fainted.