HARRY POTTER :Dark Kingdom

"The mousey. Give Nagini her little mousey. It is Nagini's to play with. Master gave it to Nagini. It is Master's present! Give it here or Nagini will play with you instead!"

Harry didn't even consider giving the rat over. Not that he thought the rat's life was worth more than his own (he'd killed several over the summer to feed to the school's owls), he just couldn't stand in its presence a moment longer. He leapt out of Nagini's strike range, then bolted down the corridor. He heard her indignant cry, but she couldn't follow nearly as quickly.

Only now, Harry had lost sight of the other first years. Cursing himself for his own stupidity, he started his search. But the castle was a maze, and every corridor led to dozens of others. He tried to call for help, but no one came and he didn't dare stay anywhere too long lest Nagini find him.

Finally he started to hear voices. He followed the sound until he came to a narrow hallway, that led to a small antechamber. There was a small wooden door, and he pressed his ear to it to see if he could hear anything. The general roar was quiet now, but he could hear some one making a speech. He pressed harder to the wood, hoping to make out the words.

The door fell open. Caught off balance, Harry stumbled forward, through a curtain and onto a platform, tripped on a rug, and pitched passed a man standing at the podium and off the edge. He fell feet over head, and landed awkwardly on his side. Dazed he sat up, and through his spinning vision he could make out many people in black robes staring at him. His sight somehow ended upwards, and the people disappeared to reveal a starry night sky. He rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing, and when he opened them again he found himself staring at a man. He was a young, pale man and his eyes were a the most vivid...crimson?

"Er..."

The hall suddenly burst out into raucous laughter. Harry's face burned. Looking over at the platform, he could see two tables on either side of the small platform with several familiar faces. Professors Toure, Flitwick, Quirell, and of course, Snape. They, however, were not laughing. His embarrassment was replaced with something else, and his burning embarassment gave way to a cold fear.

"Silence!" Voldemort commanded.

Instantly, the laughing horde fell into a tense quiet. The Dark Lord turned his cold crimson gaze to the boy still sprawled on the floor beneath him, letting his expression clearly show his irritation. Strangely, Harry couldn't turn away. His eyes were wide and frightened, but he couldn't look away. It was like being caught in Nagini's eyes, only...

"And you are?" the man said. His voice sounded vaguely serpentine. Harry made a conscious effort to climb to his feet, although they felt as if they would collapse at any moment.

"I-I'm Harry Potter."

"Oh. You."

He flinched, but didn't turn away.

"Crucio!"

A sudden, excruciating pain flared through his entire body. It was like nothing he had ever felt. Not the localized pain of a broken bone nor the weak pain of a sunburn. This was something else. It was like every fiber of body, from skin to the internal muscles was being stabbed with wicked needles. There was screaming, and Harry couldn't tell if it was him or not. As suddenly as it was inflicted, the curse was removed. He found himself on all fours, trembling uncontrollably.

"In the future, Mr. Potter, it would be wise to remember I do not like to be interrupted while speaking. Especially by fools. McGonagall, you are responsible for escorting first years to the Great Hall. We will discuss your failure later."

Someone grabbed his arm, and he flinched from the contact expecting it to hurt, but the pain was an empty echo. He was dragged to his feet by McGonagall, looking very pale and tightlipped, and led to the line of other first years. Hermione and Clyde were immediately by his side, supporting him. Yet he couldn't help but notice that in addition to looking worried, they both looked very angry with him as well.

It's not my fault! he wanted to scream at them. But all he could do was try to regain his strength and stand on his own, hiding his embarrassment and shame. Voldemort continued his speech, and at some point Harry thought he saw an ugly hat singing a rather ridiculous song about houses.

It took him a minute to realize it was singing about Houses. They learned about them in summer school, of course, and Hermione even had a book called Hogwarts: A History that she was constantly referencing. When names started to be called, Harry made an extra effort to pay attention.

"Abbott, Hannah!" A rather plump girl with blond pigtails climbed onto the provided stool and McGonagall placed the singing hat on her head. It was barely there for two seconds before it shouted out "Hufflepuff!"

The girl quickly skipped off to join a table of cheering students. It followed that routine for all the gathered students. Some went to Hufflepuff, others Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, or Slytherin. Usually it only took a second or two for the hat to decide, other times it took almost a minute. Clyde was called and by then Harry was able to stand on his own, and watched as his friend was sorted into Gryffindor under the thunderous applause of the Weasley twins. Natalie was sorted into Slytherin, and looked perfectly pleased with the result. Hermione, amazingly was not sorted into either Slytherian or Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor.

Harry didn't really see it. She had always been more smarts than anything, and the timid way she looked away from her brother's shocked face wasn't exactly the bravest front she could have given. Draco went to Slytherin like all the Malfoy's before him, of course. And then it was his turn.

The hall got dead quiet, and Harry felt vaguely nauseous. But he remembered his father and his mother, thought of how proud they would be that he had gotten here at all, and held his head high as he marched towards the stool. McGonagall looked decidedly worried as she placed the hat on his head. The hat fell over his eyes and in the darkness he could hear the whispers of the other students.

"Hhhmmm..." said the hat. "What have we here. Oh this is going to be a difficult choice. You've go a decent mind... loyal... hard working... there's definitely a lot of...unique talent in here. The most obvious choice would of course be Slytherin, but..."

"Please, not there,"Harry whispered. "I don't want anything else in common with..."

He shut his mouth tight after that. He hadn't told anyone about his wand being the brother's of Voldemort. Not Hermione, not the Sleuw's, and certainly not to a gossipy hat. Even if it read his mind and already knew.

"Oh, not Slytherin then? Well, then we might as well keep things interesting. I think I'll put you in GRIFFINDOR!"

Most of the Gryffindors didn't clap when Harry made his way over to his new house. Most of them didn't. Percy clapped politely along with a few others. Clyde and Hermione both clapped more honestly. The Weasley twins made enough of a racket to embarrass him all over again. He took his seat between Clyde and Hermione, and struggled to sit up tall under the disgruntled looks his own house was giving him.

The sorting continued and Ron Weasley, the youngest son of a long line of brothers surprised everyone, including himself when the sorting hat sent him off to Slytherin. Although he felt sorry for Ron's flabbergasted brothers, Harry wasn't sorry he wouldn't be sharing his House with the other boy. The redhead sat himself next to Draco, who didn't look as though he was sure he wanted the other boy there.

Finally, the sorting concluded with Blaise Zabini being sorted into Slytherin. Voldemort gave another brief speech about pride and honor, fealty, and discipline. It would have been extremely boring if the threat of excruciating pain and death hadn't lingered between each sentence should the man's wisdom be ignored.

Then an enormous feast suddenly appeared before them all. It was more food than Harry had ever seen, and very impressively displayed. But watching all the other students suddenly scarfing it all down, made him feel even more nauseous and he pushed most of it away.

"Aren't you going to eat?" asked Clyde, looking worried.

"He probably doesn't feel very well after the Cruciatus curse. Do you, Harry?"

"No, I don't" he agreed. "The Cruciatus curse, huh?"

"Yes. It's also known as the pain curse, and I'm sure you can appreciate why. It's a very dark curse. Only those with particularly high magical ability can perform it effectively."

"Well, at least I know people won't be throwing it around in the halls then," he said.

"No worries there mate," said one of the twins, coming up to stand behind. "You'll only have to worry about tickle curses-"

"Jelly-legs-" suggested the other twin.

"The pinching curse-"

"Boils and blisters curse-"

"Lycanthropy during the full moon-"

"Vampire bites if you walk around after curfew-"

"Yes, yes, yes! We get it! Can't you go embarrass someone else? You have an entire House to annoy!" Clyde said.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Harry's too easy a target right now."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come on, George-"

"I'm Fred, George,"

"Semantics, brother."

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