Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Facing It Alone ❯ Two ( Chapter 2 )

Hogwarts was roughly the same size of Maiestas, but Misha still found herself impressed by the immense castle. The weather was fair when they stepped off the train, with only a faint chill in the air.

“Where do we go now?” Misha asked Hermione, trying not to let her uncertainty show. Hermione beamed and pointed to the top of the stone stairs, where large double doors were swinging open. A thin, imposing woman stood waiting.

“That's Professor McGonagall. She's in charge of first year sorting so I expect you'll be with her.” Hermione said. “They take our bags to our room, so you need to be sorted before anything else.” Hermione squinted. “I think she's waving at you!” She turned round and hugged Misha suddenly. “Good luck!” she said, before dashing off.

Misha shook her head ruefully before walking up the stone steps quickly. She found that standing next to Professor McGonagall, even Misha was considered short. “My name's Misha Chayton. I don't know if you were told of me coming, but I'm an exchange…”

She trailed off when a look of comprehension dawned on the Professor's face. Misha's heart beat faster. She knows, she thought urgently. How could she know? “Yes, Ms. Chayton. I head you were coming. If you would please stand with these first years. You're to be sorted as well.” Misha nodded, her throat tight. Would McGonagall give her away? Would these teachers hate her as well?

The first years had been filed alphabetically, and with little trouble, Misha found her place in line. She felt overly tall once again, she couldn't be sure that any of the surrounding children cleared five feet. At Professor McGonagall's order, the first years plus Misha filed into the Great Hall, where they found themselves standing in front of the whole school, who were watching intently.

The first boy was called, and Misha was sure he was going to pee his pants. He was sorted into Gryffindor, and the far left table cheered enthusiastically. Misha watched the second girl. She was a small blonde thing, a slip of a girl. She walked nervously up to the Hat, which sat on a tall stool, and put in on her head gingerly. The Hat took a few moments to think, then bellowed out `Hufflepuff!'

A few more students were sorted until it was finally Misha's turn. She scanned the crowd, finding the faces of her new friends. Harry waved at her, and she smiled back, walking up to the Sorting Hat quickly. She grabbed the ratty thing, and put it o her head. Instantly, a mumbling voice filled her brain.

`Bit old to be sorted are ye not?' the voice asked, but Misha didn't feel the need to answer. `Ye got brains, I can see that, but you've also got a wild love of destruction…' the Hat mused for several tense seconds.

`I don't know that you truly belong here' he said finally.

“Please,” Misha said quietly. “You can see what I did, can't you?” The Hat made a noise of assent. “Then you know I didn't mean it! Please, I've got no other place to go. Just sort me please, Hat.”

`Then it will need to be:' “RAVENCLAW!”

Misha sighed in relief. The Hat had sorted her. Everything would be okay now. She walked towards the cheering table and sat down into an empty spot next to a strange blonde girl who was quite obviously not paying attention to the sorting. “Hey,” Misha said quietly. The girl turned her head, her blue eyes glazed.

“Oh…hello. Have you been there long?” The girl replied. Misha shook her head. “Oh, good. I'm Luna.”

“My name is Misha. I'm from America.”

“How nice for you,” Luna replied, turning back to her magazine. Misha frowned. Had she done something wrong to make this girl so rude?

“Don't worry about her.” The girl on Misha's other side had leaned over. “That's just Loony Lovegood. She gets a bit…distracted. I don't think she means anything by it.” She held out her hand. “I'm Sara Fawcett. I couldn't help overhearing that you're a transfer student. What's that like?” She asked eagerly.

Misha smiled, amused by this fast-talking girl. She shook the girl's hand. “I'm Misha. I'm from an American school. I'm here for the year.”

“The sorting's over.” Sarah pointed out. “I think we're about to eat. Oh damn, Dumbledore's got a speech.” Sarah was craned her neck to see the headmaster. “I hope it's not too long,” she moaned quietly. “I'm hungry!”

Misha moved to get a better look at the famed Headmaster. This was the man who was to keep her power hidden from the world? He was so…old.

“Welcome back students of old, and welcome to the newer students!” Dumbledore said happily. “I'm pleased to tell you that over the summer, we gained another fifth year student. I hope you can all work to make her feel welcome here.” He sat down, and food appeared on all the table's plates. Misha felt a new passionate dislike for the old man at the high table. Had he needed to point her out the way he had?

She poked at the meat on her plate, tasting and hating the pumpkin juice that Sarah poured her. “You're in fifth year then?” Sarah asked her. Misha nodded. “Well, you'll probably be in the sixth year dorm anyway; we've got an extra space.”

“That's good.”

Soon, the feast was over, and everyone was standing, preparing to file out of the hall. Misha tapped on Sarah's shoulder. “I'll be right back.” She told the other girl, dashing over to the Gryffindor line. “Harry!” she called through the sea of people. She watched his jet black hair whip around and his grin when he spotted her. She trotted over and smiled. “So, is Ravenclaw a good house?” she asked him.

“It's better than Slytherin.” He admitted. “I had you down for Gryffindor after what you did to Malfoy.”

“That wasn't bravery.” Misha said seriously. Harry looked her grave face and frowned. “I lost my temper and took advantage of a wizard who didn't know as much as me. That's just a good as cowardice.”

Harry started to say something, but Misha was distracted by a call from Sarah. “I have to go Harry. I'll see you at breakfast. Show me your timetable then, alright?”

Misha walked off, leaving Harry very puzzled. He could not fathom what she had just meant.

“Oi, Harry!” Harry turned to see Fred and George loping towards him. “New conquest?” Fred asked when they reached him. Harry grinned but shook his head.

“I couldn't help but eavesdrop on what she said, man.” George added. “My advice, steer clear. There are some heavy things associated with that girl.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, bristling.

“Harry, I'm not saying she's a bad person, but an excellent source of mine says that the American Wizarding community had a hell of a time keeping her out of the Muggle newspapers last year.”

“Who's that source?” Harry asked suspiciously. He did not want to be pulled along on of Fred and George's pranks.

“McGonagall.” Fred answered.

“What? She said this to you?” Harry seriously doubted this tale now.

“Of course not,” said George. “I overheard her talking to Flitwick about it. That girl's causing a storm of trouble at Maiestas.”

Harry turned to look at Misha, who was starting the long trek up the stairs to the Ravenclaw Tower and frowned. She looked so harmless. What could one girl do that would send the Americans into frenzy?