Archive of Our Own

She understands her father’s pride over the family name, but having to constantly wear the Mikealson ring annoys her. Sometimes it felt suffocating, and right now, squeezed between countless bodies, it’s enough for her irritation to spike once again.

Hope raises her hand to her collar and loosens her Slytherin tie, looking around. She’s confused as to why food hasn’t magically appeared in front of them yet. 

It’s about thirty minutes past dinner time, and the students still have no idea why they’re waiting. They were told to come to the great hall early for dinner—Hope can faintly remember something about an important announcement—but nothing has happened yet. 

The pureblood’s eyes wander to the front, where the headmaster and professors are sitting regally. She notices that some of them look quite anxious. 

She wonders why, but after a few seconds of thinking, she decides that she doesn’t care. 

Before long, the students fall into a rush of silence as Headmaster Dumbledore stands up. 

“Quiet, quiet,” Dumbledore says, as if he’s Merlin himself or something, and Hope almost rolls her eyes. She glances away for a second and accidentally meets the stare of that curly-haired boy from Hufflepuff shooting her heart eyes. What was his name? 

Lesley? 

Landon? Oh, right. Landon. That’s the name of the boy staring at her without trying to hide it at all. 

He should really stop doing that, Hope thinks absently before turning back to Dumbledore. 

“Good evening, everyone,” Dumbledore greets, pausing dramatically. “Tonight, we welcome two students from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic that wish to finish out their studies here at Hogwarts.”

A murmur of excitement spreads across the dining hall, but Hope doesn’t share it. Instead, her shoulders sag in disappointment. She just wants to eat. 

“We never get transfers!” a fifth year whispers excitedly across from her, and Hope grumbles underneath her breath. She’s starving, and done with waiting. 

“Please embrace them pleasantly as you did your fellow classmates,” Dumbledore finishes, and Hope didn’t realize he was still talking. 

He moves to the side and gestures to his right, and Hope catches a glimpse of two girls she hadn’t noticed before. One is slightly taller than the other and clearly blonde, with an upturned nose and small features. Her robes are plain but immaculate. When Hope turns to look at the other one, she does a double-take. 

The girl is beautiful, that’s obvious. Her hair is slightly wavy, a gorgeous brown color that Hope can’t tear her gaze away from. She blinks and wills herself to look somewhere else, anywhere else, but she finds that she can’t.

The girl’s eyes have a fire in them that directly contrast Hope’s own blue ones, and something just underneath Hope’s skin sparks. It jolts her back to reality. 

Hope glances away, her heart beating with a quickness she doesn’t yet realize. She stares down at the table, but all she can see is pouty lips and innocent eyes. She risks a glance back and the other girl’s eyes catch her own for barely a split second, but it’s enough to scare Hope to never look again. 

Minutes pass before Hope regains herself, the magic in her veins thrumming with attention. 

“Elizabeth Saltzman!” Professor McGonagall calls, and then Hope realizes they’re actually being sorted by that stupid fucking hat. Her eyebrows furrow with another discovery. 

Saltzman...as in the famous vampire hunter Alaric Saltzman? Hope thinks. As in one of the greatest enemies of her father? As in...

“Saltzman. Great. Another fucking muggleborn,” Penelope Park curses next to her, a snobby frown down-turning her lips as the blonde walks up to the hat. “Her friend’s hot, though. Here’s to hoping she’s at least a half-blood.” 

Hope frowns then, too, and turns away from Penelope. Blood purity differences are still alive and well in Hogwarts, and although Hope’s family instills these values in her daily, she’s never really caught on. She’ll put on a show, but she doesn’t really care how much magic someone has in their bloodline. Even though she knows she should. 

Her father, however, really cares about it. In their world, he’s known as the Great Evil, having a history of committing many crimes and getting away with all of them. 

The great hall grows quiet again as the sorting hat is placed on top of Elizabeth’s head. It takes a minute or so before it finds its answer. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

Elizabeth looks almost pleased as she takes off the hat and stands up. Everyone claps pleasantly like they’re supposed to, and she quickly joins the Gryffindor table. Hope almost laughs when she sees how disappointed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are. On the contrary, her own house is indifferent. The second they heard Elizabeth’s last name, they stopped paying attention. No muggleborn would ever get sorted into Slytherin. 

“Josette Saltzman!” Hope only has a second to think how pretty the name is before Penelope starts to rant about blood purity again.  

“P, if you don’t shut the fuck up...” Hope trails off, and Penelope gets the message to stop talking clearly enough. 

The hall is still quiet as Josette walks up to the stool, her footsteps resounding loudly in the silence. She sits down, and McGonagall places the hat on her head. 

Nothing is immediately said, and just when Hope thinks the hat has made a decision another minute goes by. Josette is whispering furiously, but strangely no one can hear a single thing. She appears to be...arguing with the hat? It’s almost seven minutes later when the hat finally decides.

“SLYTHERIN!” 

A hush tumbles over the already silent body of students, and Hope’s heart gets stuck in her throat. It pounds against her vocal cords, and no sound allows itself to come out. 

She watches as Josette stands up, but the entire Slytherin table is frozen. 

It’s unheard of—

A muggleborn in Slytherin? What the fuck was the hat thinking?

Hope’s eyes still remain unblinking until she realizes that everyone is looking at her for direction. She's only a sixth year, but her last name is enough for everyone to practically worship her or be afraid of her at this school. 

I don't know what to do, Hope wants to scream, wants to tell them that she's just hungry and starving for some mashed potatoes. Penelope elbows her pointedly, and Hope realizes that she still hasn't said anything yet.

Josette is standing awkwardly in front of McGonagall, not knowing what to do also. For her part, McGonagall doesn't know what to do either. The situation is almost laughable, really. 

Hope feels her bones like lead, her joints like jelly and it's hard to move. Her insides are cement, and when she looks up she only sees Josette. 

She lifts her elbows off the table, the magic inside commanding her every move before she can think about it. Her hands collide together and Hope knows that this—this moment—will change her life completely. She starts to clap, and the entire Slytherin table follows suit after a moment of hesitance. Josette smiles, and Hope wonders what she was even worried about in the first place.

Just before the applause ends, a glass shatters meters away, dropped by the Divination teacher—Sybill Trelawney. Seconds go by, but she makes no move to pick it up or use a spell to clean it. In fact, she's frozen, staring blankly in front of her like nothing else exists. In a monotone expression, her voice begins to carry throughout the great hall. 

"When the sun rises, 

the end of peace will set,

and Merlin will stir in anger

with the first hour of the morning.

He will reign destruction on nature,

turning the seas to ice

and the forests to fire. 

Two will need to come together

one purest of blood, 

from the house of the snake,

and another with none to her name, 

but from much of the same. 

Only their union can truly free us from Merlin’s wrath.

And the Great Evil’s heir

shall become our savior."

At the words Great Evil, Hope sees everyone's heads turn in her direction once again. She watches as Josette's eyes follow everyone else's, and suddenly Hope feels very, very insecure. She keeps her head up, her shoulders and back ramrod straight, but inside she's freaking out. 

Sybill Trelawney and her family are known for their prophecies, and Hope vaguely wonders if this is one of those cases. Trelawney snaps out of it a second later, looking around in confusion, and Hope's heart drops to her stomach in dread. Although Trelawney is a bat-crazy lunatic and her predictions have no real value, Hope feels like something is wrong deep down. 

She doesn't feel so hungry anymore.