Into the Stars

It was rare for Hogwarts to send acceptance letters after what would have been a student’s first year. Yet, it wasn’t unheard of. I stood nervously in the midst of several first years and a few 3rd and 4th years. A sort of chunky boy sitting at the table a few feet away exclaimed, "Oh, this is so exiting! You get to wear the sorting hat! Let's pray you get into Gryffindor, eh?" At this point I had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn't matter. My thoughts were far away back on the Hogwarts express; and how I made a completely fool of myself. "I’m Neville Longbottom!" The chubby boy said. I nodded.

"Nikki."

"I wish to welcome you all to another adventurous year at Hogwarts!" A booming voice was heard from the front of the hall. It was an old man wearing a blue wizard's hat. He looked quite happy and I could see cheer in his sparkling eyes. But he looked old. Very, very old. I presumed it was the famous Professor Dumbledore. Everyone broke out into applause. I had heard wonderful things about him. I clapped my hands together enthusiastically. "I would also like to remind all of you that the Forest is off limits to all students. Now, let us start the sorting ceremony. Will the first years come forward?" I waited patiently and watched as several eleven and twelve year olds got sorted into the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin houses. At long last, Professor Dumbledore finally announced that sixth years were next. “Or, shall I say, one sixth year.” That meant me. Thanks a lot. I gulped loudly. I hated when everyone's eyes were on me.
"Nicole Hock?" A woman professor called out. Silence. I stood up unsteadily and walked at an agonizingly slow pace to Dumbledore. I simply couldn’t bring myself to walk any faster. It was then that I got a closer look at the brown witch's hat which had been set on each student’s head. It was looking at me, waiting. Wait, looking at me? I glanced at it twice.

"Take a seat right hear, my dear." It said. It speaks too? I sat down and felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Dumbledore took the hat and placed it gently upon my head. I looked around frantically at all of the students at all of the tables. There he was. I managed to find the chocolate-eyed boy I met on the express. I struggled to keep eye contact with him before he gave me a sheepish grin. I looked away quickly. "Ah..." The hat said, making me jump. "Book-smart...ish... Ravenclaw, perhaps...?" I cringed in embarrassment. "No, no. Something else... Ah... Gryffindor! Yes, of course! She shall be put in Gryffindor!" I sighed in relief. That was the house the Neville wished me to be put in. The outlines of my robe suddenly changed to red and orange, and Dumbledore removed the hat from my head and pointed to the table with all of the other red robe-wearers. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized that the boy with chocolate eyes and the Scottish accent was also a Gryffindor. I walked over to the table while secretly admiring his smile. I found a seat directly across from him and plopped myself down.

"I'm sorry. Nicole, is it?" I gazed up at him feeling faint. My cheeks burned red.

"Let the feast begin!" Dumbledore yelled. Several delicious looking dishes appeared magically in front of up. However, my attention was drawn elsewhere.

"You left in such a rush on the train; we never got our names out." He said with a chuckle. I shoved my shaking hands in my lap under the table.

"It's Nikki, actually." I said unable to stop grinning

"I'm Oliver Wood. Do you like Quidditch?" He asked wide-eyed.

"Uh huh." I managed. Why on earth was I acting like this? It's just a boy. I shook myself out of my embarrassment. "Yes. Quidditch is actually my favorite Wizarding sport." He grinned.

"I'm Gryffindor's Keeper, and captain of the team." He said. Impressive.

"Be Careful. Wood is obsessed with Quidditch." A girl said, suddenly scooting closer to me. I smiled at her. "I'm Allie." She said with a smile. I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder.

"Buzz off, Flint.” Oliver growled as I turned to face him. Flint rolled his eyes.

"Hey there. Feasts are so overrated, hmm? Want to hit it off some place else?" He asked with a smirk.

"Sure, you go ahead. I'll meet up with you after I throw up." I said enthusiastically. Flint glanced behind me at Oliver and scowled at him.

"Why do you have to be like that? I’m not such a bad guy." He said quietly as he dragged the back of his hand along my cheek. Fury overcame me in a second. I gripped his hand as tight as I could and peeled it away from my face.

"No. Thank you." I said calmly turning around. Oliver let out a loud chuckle.