Chapter Text
There was a buzz of excitement in the air that was often present on the first day back at Hogwarts. Each beginning of the year promised a new adventure, sometimes deadly, but the students were eager to find out regardless. Outside the Great Hall, the incoming First Years were anxiously awaiting their time to walk through the towering doors before them, chattering quietly to one another or ringing their hands.
As the group finally walked through the doors into the Hall, it was obvious to the students at the tables that an interloper was among the first years. At the very back of the group was someone too large to be an 11 year old. She towered over the rest of the new students, the tallest of which was only 5ft. The questioning whispers only stopped once McGonagall called for the sorting to begin.
Kit stood at the very back of the group of first years, keeping their eyes trained straight ahead at the unfamiliar faces of the professors instead of meeting those of the inquisitive students who seemed intent on staring. Inside her heart was stammering but she had plenty of practice at keeping her face trained in a mask of calm indifference. At her old school there had been no sorting for the first years, only a welcoming parade through the entrance gate. The idea of sitting on a stool in front of hundreds of strangers made her want to drop to the ground. She had rather hoped that she could have bypassed this process or at least an official introduction, but as the First Years were sorted and she continued to stand there, her hopes dwindled.
After the last of the First Years were sorted, McGonagall cleared her throat to speak to the room. Her voice was clear as she spoke the introduction, her mere presence calling for silence. “This year we have transfer student from America. Kit Hearter.” The older woman motioned for Kit to step forward.
As Kit approached the stool, they focused only on keeping their face bland and their knees from shaking as they sat. It was now that she regretted not researching Hogwarts more thoroughly before deciding to attend. This introduction would have made her reconsider it all. Unlike many of the first years, the Sorting Hat fit nicely on her head instead of falling to her eyes. The gravely voice spoke into Kit’s ears but she was determined not to jump.
“Interesting, yes, interesting.” The Hat pondered in her ear, mulling over mostly to itself which house Kit belonged in. Kit only sat, staring at the wall ahead. None of the houses held meaning to her so the decision seemed almost unimportant. The only difference she could see between the four houses were the colors on the student's ties, and she didn't feel strongly for one color or another. Finally the Sorting Hat yelled out, “We’ll put you in... Slytherin!”
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For the remainder of the meal Kit sat in relative quiet, only lightly picking at the food on the table. There were a number of meat dishes that she did not want or recognize and resigned herself to vegetables, potatoes, and a roll that lay half eaten on her plate. Even after finding her seat with the other Slytherins the nerves hadn't dissipated as she had hoped.
Once or twice she made casual conversation with the people seated around her but it ended rather quickly. It seemed that the first years were concerned with people their own age and the older students had already formed their own cliques. No one was particularly rude, but she could feel the skepticism in their gazes towards her. For most of the dinner she sat staring up at the enchanted ceiling, marveling at the floating candles as they bobbed in the air. Whenever a ghost floated by she jumped slightly, surprised that they were out and about with the students. At Salem, the ghosts were dignified entities that tended to only glide through the buildings at night and rarely spoke to students. Here she could see some friendly ghosts popping up and chatting heartily with the other house. How strange.
The food vanished at the end of the night and Kit wanted to ask someone where it went but didn't think any of her house mates would appreciate it. As the rest of the Slytherins trudged down into the dungeons, Kit was beginning to regret her transfer to the English school more and more. It had seemed like a welcome adventure when her it was proposed to her a year ago by her old Headmistress, but a growing feeling of doubt had seated itself in the pit of her stomach. As she settled into the deep green comforter of her bed, so did the feeling that she might have made a terrible mistake.