Chapter 12: 12: The New Students of Slytherin

It seemed that Eve's mother really had some explaining to do. Everyone knew that Slytherin accepted half-bloods, but it did not accept Muggle-borns. Eve being sorted into Slytherin implied that at least one of her parents was a wizard. But, as it was clear that both her known parents were not, she clearly had a "real father" somewhere. As Nolan pondered this, he failed to notice that he had already become the center of attention among the current students. In this year's intake of first-years, the one everyone was most curious about was this handsome and composed boy. The red-haired twins and Lee Jordan were, of course, sorted into Gryffindor. Malcolm Baddock got his wish and was placed into Slytherin, though he looked utterly drained when he took off the hat. His legs gave out as he tried to return to the Slytherin table, and someone had to help him back. Cho Chang and Marietta both ended up in Ravenclaw. When Cho sat down, she looked over expectantly at Nolan, mouthing something to him. It seemed she was hoping he would join her in Ravenclaw. The little boy Miles Bletchley and the girl Alicia, whom Nolan had met on the boat, were also sorted into Slytherin. Interestingly, Alicia's full name was Alicia Field, though she didn't seem particularly fond of it. Finally, it was time for— "Nolan Von Draugr!" With a soft swish, all eyes turned to him. Nolan glanced up and saw the white-haired wizard Albus Dumbledore, sitting high at the staff table. Dumbledore's wise yet probing gaze twinkled behind his half-moon glasses. Nolan met his gaze briefly before looking away, walking calmly to the stool to put on the Sorting Hat. "Oh, my, oh my," the hat murmured almost reverently. "A young immortal, a fledgling Lord of the Night, born with a natural disdain for life and an air of darkness. And yet, there's the wit of a Ravenclaw as well. Slytherin? Or perhaps Ravenclaw?" Nolan blinked, and with a calm, almost disinterested tone in his mind, said, "I don't care which house I'm placed in, but can we skip the time-wasting memory probing? My promise still stands—I won't drink from the students. But I need Dumbledore's trust." The Sorting Hat fell silent for a moment, grumbling under its breath. "Fine, fine, arrogant fool. Immortals always are. If that's the case, I'll send you where you belong. I've decided—Slytherin!" The final word was shouted for all to hear. The Gryffindors let out a collective sigh, while the Slytherins burst into thunderous applause, standing as though they had just been awarded a grand prize. "Welcome, Von Draugr, welcome!" Nolan was greeted by a fifth-year wizard wearing a badge with the letter "P." Nolan guessed this stood for Prefect. As Nolan exchanged polite small talk with the Prefect, whose name was Connaught, a sudden squeal pierced the air. "Nolan!" The next thing he knew, something small and soft had wrapped itself around his back. Turning his head, he saw a few curly strands of silver hair against his robes. It had to be Eve. Nolan patted her hand. "Cheer up. You weren't rejected, nor were you sent back to King's Cross in a package. This proves you're qualified to study at Hogwarts. You passed the Sorting test just like everyone else, so you're no different from them." Eve still didn't let go. This year's intake of Slytherins included only nine students—five boys and four girls. The Prefect seemed troubled by this. Hogwarts dormitories were designed for four-person rooms. With five boys, the arrangement would have to be either a group of three and a pair, or one student living alone. Dorms were vital for bonding, and Nolan was sure that if one boy ended up in a single dorm, he'd inevitably become an outsider. At this point, the Sorting Ceremony had concluded. Professor McGonagall tucked the Sorting Hat under her arm and swiftly left the hall, replaced by Headmaster Dumbledore, who rose to address the students. He was extraordinarily tall, perhaps over two meters, and his beard was even longer than his stature. To keep his white beard from sweeping the floor like a mop, he had carefully tied it into a neat bow. Dumbledore didn't speak for long. Spreading his arms wide, he said, "Welcome back to Hogwarts! Let the feast begin! Enjoy this banquet prepared by our house-elves!" No sooner had he finished than an abundance of food appeared out of thin air on the tables. Most of it was meat dishes, with a lonely pile of salad shoved to one corner. There were generous helpings of pudding and soft candies, and at the center of the table sat a massive shepherd's pie. The young witches and wizards gazed hungrily at the sumptuous meal, mouths watering. However, wizard food did nothing but send shivers down Nolan's spine and raise goosebumps on his skin. He scowled slightly and searched the table until he finally found an unassuming jug. It contained a special beverage prepared just for him: tomato juice. "What's that?" Eve asked, her mouth full of pudding, her words muffled. Pouring the juice into a goblet, Nolan answered softly, "The blood of a virgin." Hearing this, Eve's pale face flushed with some color at last. She forced a laugh. "You're no fun, you wannabe vampire boy!" When Nolan didn't reply, she added in a quieter voice, "I want to try the tomato juice too." "You won't like it," Nolan said, his tone still calm, but he poured her a little anyway. Eve took a sip, immediately spitting it out and sticking out her tongue in disgust. Nolan only ate a small slice of pie before he stopped. He wasn't fond of pumpkin and didn't feel the need to eat more. After some time, Dumbledore waved a hand, and the feast vanished completely, leaving the tables spotless. Even the leftover bones and greasy plates disappeared. Dumbledore rose again, motioning for silence and cutting through the murmur of conversations. "I'm delighted to see you all well-fed and satisfied," he said. "Before the new term begins, I have a few announcements. First, allow me the honor of introducing our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—" At that moment, the Slytherin Prefect Connaught leaned close to Nolan and whispered, "The Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed, you know. No one's lasted more than a year teaching it." Then, Dumbledore's voice rang out, clear and warm: "Professor Felicia Von Draugr!" "Huh?" Nolan's mind blanked for a moment. Then, he looked up just in time to see her—the vampire arch duchess, who despite her five centuries of life, looked like a mischievous sixteen-year-old girl. She was entering the Great Hall through the main doors, her playful grin directed at her younger brother as she winked at him. She laughed heartily, then turned to Dumbledore, asking, "Am I a bit late? You haven't started eating yet, have you?" "I regret to inform you, Professor Von Draugr," Dumbledore replied with a good-natured shrug, "that your dinner may need to be postponed."