Remember Me

The Hogwarts Express slid to a stop and the sound of eager footsteps echoed through the compartments, although unfortunately in one it was drowned out by angry voices.

“Oh really? You were the one who said I have nothing nice to say!”

“Exactly – you’re only strengthening my point here!”

Cassandra and Ron each had their arms and legs tightly folded as they yelled at each other, red in the face from the effort. The other members of their compartment opened the door unnoticed.

“So basically, everyone you don’t like has to go in Slytherin, right?”

“Everyone knows Gryffindor and Slytherin hate each other!”

“Well, let me tell you that the day I get put in Slytherin is the day a Flobberworm becomes Minister for Magic!”

“Come on or the train will leave without you,” said Hermione. “Hurry up, you two.”

Ron glared at Cassandra as she stalked away, looking remarkably unruffled considering she had spent half-an-hour being insulted. As soon as she had gone, Hermione turned on Ron.

“You are so unfeeling!”

“Blimey, not you too, Hermione.”

“It is her first day here!” Hermione hissed, her brown hair growing bushier as she tucked it behind her ear. “The least you can do is make her feel welcome!”

“She was shouting at me too, y’know!”

The two of them bickered loudly as they jumped off the train, Harry following them silently. Nothing had changed between Hermione and Ron; both of them were as convinced they were right and the other wrong as in first year.

Hagrid waved a large hand to Harry as he went by, causing several terrified looking first years to duck. Harry grinned and returned the greeting. He caught a glimpse of bright yellow hair in the distance and knew that it was Tonks. He imagined her, on Auror duty in Hogsmede, watching the scarlet steam train with affection. Harry smiled at an awestruck eleven year old and followed Ron and Hermione into a golden carriage. He could only imagine how relieved Ron would be that Cassandra wasn’t with them.

“You shouldn’t have insulted her like that!”

“She did the same to me, Hermione!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Hermione, drop it.”

She looked affronted, and opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but Harry started up a conversation with Ron before she could get a word in.

“Who d’you reckon the new Defence teacher is?”

Ron looked relieved at the change of subject. “No idea. Probably some mad old Auror like Moody. Dumbledore probably thinks we need another nutter after what happened at the Ministry.”

“It’s a shame the prophecy got smashed,” said Hermione sorrowfully. “We never did find out what it was about, did we?”

Harry closed his eyes. He should tell them. Dumbledore had said to tell them. Only now the moment came, it was hard. Sirius’s face flashed into Harry’s mind. He had killed Sirius. He might have just cast the curse that did it. Sirius would not be dead if Harry hadn’t been lured to The Department of Mysteries.

“I…do know what it’s about,” he said, his eyes still closed and his voice thick.

He could tell from the change in atmosphere that Ron and Hermione now sat frozen in their seats.

“When we came back from the Ministry, Dumbledore told me.” He opened his eyes but refused to look at his friends, playing with the sleeve of his robes. “And it …it turns out that I’m the one who has to kill Voldemort in the end. It said neither can live while the other survives.”

Their wordless shock filled the carriage. It was different for them…Harry supposed he had always known, deep down.

“Oh, Harry,” breathed Hermione. “You must be so scared.”

He shook his head, though privately he agreed with her. “I always knew, I suppose. In a way.”

He was glad he had told them. He hadn’t realised how heavily it had been weighing down on him all that time at the Dursley’s over the summer, how much it had preyed on his mind. Looking up, he saw them both staring at him with shock. A change from the concern he had had to endure from them all summer, each of them wanting in their different ways to comfort him about Sirius.

The carriage jolted to a halt and the three of them jumped out. The castle towered above them, filling Harry with a strong sense of homecoming. Hogwarts…

Ron and Hermione were still obviously shocked by the prophecy, so Harry entered the Great Hall before them, hurrying to sit down at the Gryffindor table. The old Sorting Hat was placed on its usual three-legged stool, ready for the Sorting to begin. A haphazard line of fist-years stumbled up to it, led by Professor McGonagall. One exception in the line stood out.

Cassandra, her hair glowing in the light from the candles, a least a foot taller than any of the students she was standing with, her shoulders back and her chin set as she gazed at the Sorting Hat. Beside Harry, Ron sniggered at how much she stood out.

The Sorting Hat opened them brim and began to sing.

Climb upon this stool

Pull me down over your ears,

And I will put you in your place

Where you will live for seven years.

For I can look inside your mind

And see where you belong,

I am the Hogwarts’ Sorting Hat

And I am never wrong.

Four founders sought to teach to all

Magical technique

But though their goal was the same

What they valued was unique

Ravenclaw, she taught only those

Whose intelligence was surest

The one with ambition was Slytherin,

He taught those whose blood was purest.

Gentle Hufflepuff refused to choose,

She said “I’ll teach them all.”

And as for the brave and the loyal,

They went to Gryffindor.

And so these founders four

Taught together for many years.

But then one day, a fight occurred

That proved all of their fears.

Gryffindor and Slytherin

Viewed each other as brothers,

Until Slytherin, obsessed with blood purity

Would not teach the others.

The two broke ranks, they began to duel,

Until Slytherin decided to end.

He crept away from Hogwarts School

Leaving Gryffindor without a friend.

I cannot help but worry

That my role in life is wrong

So I will give you some advice

Listen closely to my song.

For ever since that fatal day,

Hogwarts has not been united.

Heal the rift, view all as friends

Do not be so short-sighted.

Unite inside, do not divide

Or I’ll worry that I’m wrong,

Now place me down upon your head

And I’ll see where you belong!

Clapping filled the hall as everyone clapped enthusiastically.

“Still doesn’t get it, does it?” whispered Ron to Harry. “No way am I becoming best friends with Malfoy this year.”

Harry nodded in agreement as Rebecca Adams stepped up to the stool. The Sorting Hat’s advice last year had hardly worked, seeing as Marcus Flint had hexed Demelza Robins about two minutes after the end of the Welcome Feast. By the look of things, Flint’s younger
brother was hoping to carry on the tradition this year.

Harry clapped absent-mindedly as “Dean, Oliver,” was sorted into Gryffindor. He could feel Hermione’s gaze practically scorching the back of his neck, and wondered if she would ever learn to keep her curiosity as a secret. She would be desperate to hear everything possible about the prophecy and have a long in-depth discussion about everything it meant, but Harry wasn’t in the mood. He turned his attention back to the Sorting.

“Gibson, Marius!”

“Slytherin!”

“Illsey, Alexandra!”

“Ravenclaw!”

“James, Cassandra!”

Ron gave a grunt of disapproval as Cassandra stepped up, her dirty-blonde hair covering her face. She sat down on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head.

“Gryffindor!”

The Hat had shouted the name as soon as the hat had touched her head. Harry was
shocked it could happen so quickly. He began to clap slowly as Cassandra stood up and began to walk over to the cheering Gryffindor table. Ron groaned.

Dean, who was sitting beside Hermione, beckoned Cassandra over to him, and she slid down in the spare space next to Dean gratefully She beamed round at everyone as the clapping ended and the Sorting went on.

Twenty minutes later, when Tara Zeuner was sorted into Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat ended and Dumbledore got up to speak. He flung his arms wide, smiling proudly at all the students as if he was embracing them all.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” he beamed. “Welcome to each and every one of you. I have only
one word to say to you. Enjoy.”

Ron and Harry cheered as the golden plates in front of them overflowed with food. They lost track of conversation for a few minutes, choosing to concentrate on the steak instead. When they did resurface, Dean and Cassandra were deep in conversation.

“So why are you new here? Are you a transfer?”

Cassandra fiddled with her hair. “No, I was home-schooled,” she said. Harry detected a
faint note of reluctance in her voice.

“Wow, why? Didn’t your parents want to send you to Hogwarts?” Dean asked, unaware.

“Debbie and John…they’re overprotective, I guess.”

“Are they your parents?”

Cassandra was definitely uncomfortable now, shifted around in her seat. “No. I’m adopted.”
She shoved a large potato in her mouth, obviously hoping to change the conversation.

“Oh, sorry,” muttered Dean. He started on another topic. “You were Sorted so quickly! Did the Hat even have time to say anything to you?”

Cassandra swallowed. “It only said one thing, but it didn’t make sense.”

“What did it say?”

“It said…I remember you.”