A Bend in Time

The first-year students continue to be sorted in Alphabet order of their surnames. The name Remus Lupin is called out and Rowan glances away from the enchanted ceiling in time to see a tall, thin boy with tired eyes and russet-colored hair sorted into Gryffindor. It was easy to call Remus a coward, but he had bravely died in battle fighting at the end of it all. Unlike many werewolves, he had survived the call of the moon not falling prey to the anger and hatred of others like him. Lycanthropy may be a magical curse, but those like Grayback are far worse than any monsters.

Turning her head to the side, Rowan spots a short, plump boy standing further in line. The short boy had mousy brown hair and chocolate-colored eyes. Petter Pettigrew or rather Wormtail a traitor to the bitter end.

Theoretically, Pettigrew could still be saved, but that is only in theory. In all honesty, Wormtail elected to betray his friends rather than being coerced into doing so. In essence, it is a character flaw rather than peer pressure or being led astray. Then again, a character flaw can successfully be changed. There is a possibility for change, and Rowan could not in good conscience immediately discount the possibility however remote.

More names are called, and Rowan pays minimal attention until the name of Pandora Ravine. Her midnight indigo-colored eyes spot a flaxen-haired girl greatly resembling Luna Lovegood sorted into Ravenclaw. It is a surprising fact to learn that Luna Lovegood's mother is in the same year as them. Then again, Pandora Lovegood had been known as quite the extraordinary witch until an experimental spell went wrong.

With genuine curiosity, Rowan turns to gaze into the seated crowd searching for recognizable names and faces. She spots an assortment of names including a 4th-year pudgy round-faced girl with a sulky expression, Bertha Jorkins. Bertha Jorkins worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports before her death at the hands of Voldemort.

Glancing further away, Rowan grimaces at spotting, Malfada Hopkirk, a stickler for rules. At present, a 6th year, who would one day be the future Commander-in-Chief of the Improper Use of Magic Office. A tedious job to have if you asked her.

Doing the math, Rowan sighed in relief. Dolores Umbridge would have graduated in the past school year or fairly recently in the years before. At present, Umbridge was likely a new intern or low-level member of the office of the Improper Use of Magic without the political clout she would possess in the future.

Further down the Ravenclaw table, Rowan spots a third-year with wide, blue eyes and distinct candy-floss-like hair, Xenophilius Lovegood. It certainly explained how the much more kept together Pandora Ravine met the eccentric Xenophilius Lovegood. As they say, opposites attract...

Curious Rowan continues to scan the crowd. At the Hufflepuff table sits the splendid upright figure of Amelia Bones. The 7th year witch would one day be known to all as Madame Bones, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement. Almost adjacent sit two future members of the Order of the Phoenix, Benjy Fetwick and Dorcas Meadows, both 7th years as well.

Although it was a surprise to spot the darting, wide-eyed, nervous 5th-year, Caradoc Dearborn. It is astounding to believe that timid Dearborn ever joined the order in the first place. But then again, his (unusual stroke of) bravery led to his untimely death six months later. His body was in fact never even found.

The first surname starting with a P is called, "Pettigrew, Peter!" Rowan glances back at the Sorting Hat to catch Peter Pettigrew sitting down. It would be about five minutes before the Sorting Hat shouted Gryffindor. Pettigrew had nearly been a hat-still.

With plenty of time left, Rowan continues searching through the crowd. Among the 7th Gryffindors, the handsome face of Kingsley Shacklebolt can easily be spotted among them. Tall, dark, and attractive, Kingsley Shacklebolt will be an upcoming Auror, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and even Minister of Magic.

Other members of the order include a square-jawed 5th-year, Sturgis Podmore. 6th year, Marlene Stein, the future Auror Marlene McKinnon, who would be murdered alongside her family. One more face destined to die in the war to come.

There is the innocent jolly slightly round face of Alice Yates, a 3rd year. The rugged, handsome 4th year, Frank Longbottom. The two of them were a far cry from the famous Aurors they would one day become and the maddened wraiths they would end as. Either way, only time would tell, what kind of parents they would end up to Neville Longbottom.

Considering the vast age differences, Rowan is unlikely to interact with many of them while at Hogwarts. However, she might be lucky in forming friendships with those closest to her age such as Xenophilius Lovegood or Pandora Ravine, and maybe even Alice Yates. With the remote chance of interacting with Frank Longbottom.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Sorting Hat shouted.

The Gryffindor table erupts into roars as Peter Pettigrew strides over in blatant relief. Another two students go up before it is James Potter's turn. And just as predicted James Potter is sorted into "GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor side erupts in cheers as James takes a seat next to Sirius Black, who is already seated next to Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew on their way to fast becoming friends.

"And so, the Marauders naturally form once more," Rowan somberly thought to herself, when Professor McGonagall calls out the name, "Prince, Rowan!"

Rowan blinks in surprise for a second, before nonchalantly striding over to the Sorting Hat. Everything goes black as Rowan places the hat on top of her head. can hear the sorting hat voice. "Hmm, quite interesting," The Sorting Hat mused in her head. "Yes, Brave and daring, but not brash like a lion. Mm, but there is plenty of loyalty and kindness."

"Get on with it," Rowan impatiently thought.

"Mm, a streak of cruelty, the badgers are not the place. And oh, my what is this? Intelligence and wit by the spades, Ravenclaw would certainly ensure that you went far." The hat hummed.

"Pick one already," Rowan growled her annoyance increasing by leaps and bounds.

"Not right either," The Sorting Hat delves in deeper. "Resourceful, yes, cunning, you certainly had to be. And Ruthless, yes, and coldly pragmatic. Better be SLYTHERIN!"

Removing the Sorting Hat in relief, Rowan almost throws the hat to the floor. However, she refrains from doing so in public (only in her dreams). The Slytherin table erupts into cheers as Rowan crosses the Great Hall. Even at a distance, she can clearly spot the icy, handsome Slytherin with long pale blond hair, Lucius Malfoy, Head Boy in his 7th year. Seated closely at his side is another 7th-year witch, a slim, cold-faced, blonde beauty with icy blue eyes, Narcissa Black.

Rowan finds the nearest empty seat at the Slytherin table and turns to face the front of the Great Hall. "Prince, Severus!" McGonagall called out.

A portion of the Slytherin table expectantly turns to look at Rowan. "My younger twin brother," she promptly declared.

"Then we've got this in the bag," cackled, a Slytherin boy with a crooked smile.

Rowan doesn't respond warily observing the gaunt face of the Bloody Baron. The Bloody Baron's robes are stained with silver blood even in death. The ghost raises his soulless gaze to meet Rowan's stare. Rowan is the first to look away from his bone-chilling gaze.

As expected, a minute later, the Sorting Hat shouts, "SLYTHERIN!" The Slytherin table erupts into a cheer as Severus steadily walks over and takes a seat next to Rowan. A few boys clap Severus on the back in a welcoming fashion as Severus sagely nods his head at them.

The last trickles down until the last of the Sorting is done. The Sorting hat is taken away until next year's use. The students turn towards the head of the staff table and seated at the head of the staff table sits, Professor Albus Dumbledore with long, silvery hair and a beard tucked into his belt. Professor Dumbledore rises and waves at his students with a happy smile. His long robe has small moons and stars embroidered onto the nearly floor-length robes. Barely visible is the tip of buckled high-heeled boots peeking out from under his robes.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore warmly said with childlike blue eyes that sparkled with delight behind half-moon spectacles. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! And before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Tick! Sizzle! Twitch! Snap!" Dumbledore takes a seat as everyone applauds his nonsensical statement, while his spectacles lightly slip down his rather long, crooked nose that had been broken at least twice before.

Rowan, on the other hand, narrows her eyes, maybe it was just her, but she never quite liked Dumbledore. It wasn't that that he was a bad man, but rather Dumbledore had proven himself to be a liar or at least not fully trustworthy as he would omit the past or even the truth if need be. And she could respect that, but the issue was that Dumbledore always had his own agenda.

Besides it was obvious from the get-go that Tom Riddle was the definition of a psychopath and despite not fully trusting Tom Riddle, Dumbledore never apparently or at least visibly ever investigated Tom Riddle until the Chamber of Secrets incident and by then it was much too late. Not to mention that he seemly placed the baby Potter in an abusive home and so happened to have failed to notice it. Excluding the fact that he did very little about the situation upon noticing said abuse. So, pardon her if she didn't trust the old man!

Rowan turns her attention to the golden plates before her as the empty plates begin to fill up with all sorts of food: pot roast, roasted chicken, sausages, steak, baked tomatoes, boiled tomatoes, French fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, and gravy, etc. A rather classical English dinner so to speak.

Rowan clenches her fork tightly in aggravation. These last few summer months, she had been dying to have some variety to her menu and was even desperate for some salad for heaven's sake! If this was what the next seven years are going to be like... She was going to have high cholesterol or diabetes.

Nevertheless, hunger beckoned, and Rowan reluctantly answered the call as she served herself a meal that was on the lesser fat side. "Would it kill them to tone down the butter and oil?" She numbly muttered to herself.