Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Children of the Sun	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 12412 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Author’s Notes: This is both the latest installment in my Children of the Sun series, immediately following “Nothing Gold,” and another of my July Celebration fics, in response to a request for the next in this series by nightlo.

The Breath of a Flame

            The Great Hall was wonderful.

            Draco tried to tell himself that, of course, he’d known it would be. He wanted to raise his nose and stalk across the floor, and have everyone nearby gape at Kali. Because some people would have a silver familiar, but none of them would have a silver dragon.

            But he didn’t. Because nervousness was prickling him, and he kept looking back at Harry and Golden, who were the center of everyone’s stares.

            Draco didn’t resent that, not really. Harry had a golden familiar. Of course he was going to attract more notice than silver, or bronze, or copper, or tin.

            Except that Harry didn’t think he was special because he had a golden familiar, or even that Golden was really special. He kept saying he just was, and he wanted to be friends with everyone, and he wanted Draco to teach him about the wizarding world and Weasley to teach him about living in a large family and Granger to—

            Draco hunched his shoulders. He couldn’t remember, just then, what Harry had wanted to learn from Granger. The point was that he kept doing things that Draco didn’t expect from someone with a golden familiar, and then saying brightly that he could do whatever he wanted, because couldn’t people with golden familiars do that?

            The thoughts swirled around and around in Draco’s brain, and he wasn’t even really watching as the first people got Sorted. Then again, they were only Hufflepuffs, so it wasn’t like they mattered.

            Kali turned and stretched out her nose, touching his cheek. Draco scowled. Even though she only meant it to comfort him and she would never criticize him, for some reason it reminded him of the way that Granger touched her ermine.

            What would Harry say about you disregarding people just because they’re Hufflepuffs?

            The biggest problem was that Draco knew exactly how Harry would look as he said it, too. He sighed and began to clap as he watched people get herded forwards.

            And he hoped that Harry’s sly manipulation of the possibilities of having a golden familiar—it was manipulation, it had to be—meant that he would end up in Slytherin with Draco.

            He did have to worry, for just a moment, about whether he would be in Slytherin at all, himself, but then he dismissed that. Harry couldn’t change him that profoundly. Mother had always said, with a fond smile, that no one could.

*

            “Granger, Hermione!”

            Hermione trotted forwards, and made sure that Regina was curled around her shoulders low enough that she wouldn’t get in the way of the Sorting Hat. She tried to look proud and untroubled, too.

            But she knew it didn’t work when she felt the Sorting Hat fall onto her head and heard it laugh in her brain.

            So determined, are you? And already you’re trying to decide what your familiar being silver means, when you didn’t think about that at all before.

            I didn’t think about it because I didn’t know about it, Hermione snapped. Then she paused. She remembered Hogwarts, A History talking about how old the Sorting Hat was, and how it was the only artifact left that could really remember the Founders. She should probably be more polite to it.

            The Hat chuckled, and there was a little irritating rasp to the chuckle. Don’t worry about being nice to me, young lady! Just tell me why you think you should be in Gryffindor when you would fit so much better into Ravenclaw.

            Because Gryffindor is the best House. And it’s the one I want to make friends in.

            Hermione felt Regina push her round head into Hermione’s hand. Hermione petted her and wished. She could imagine herself as the brave heroine, smiling at people as she coaxed them into reading more and improving their marks. She probably wouldn’t ever be able to play Quidditch, but she had a daydream that they cheered her anyway as she walked away from the Quidditch pitch, having stolen half the team into studying instead.

            You don’t have friends already?

            That stopped Hermione so suddenly that her lungs hurt a little. She shook her head. I don’t know what you mean.

            The friends you met on the train? Do you think they’re all going to go with you into Gryffindor?

            Hermione hesitated. She remembered Weasley talking about Gryffindor and how his whole family was there. He will.

            And Harry?

            Hermione hesitated again. I mean, he doesn’t seem like he would want to be in Slytherin. Or Ravenclaw. He didn’t talk about reading our schoolbooks at all! Except the one on Herbology.

            Well, that is true. I can see from your memories. The Hat still sounded amused about something. But I can tell you that Gryffindor is not the only House in which you will make friends. And that often, studying is more about interesting people in what they will learn than in their marks.

            Hermione thought about it. She always wanted good marks, and she had been one of the best students at her old school. But it was also true that when she tried to get other girls, or even boys, to study with her and instruct them in the treasures books had inside them, they all ended up backing away and making fun of her.

            Ravenclaw has many people in it already convinced that studying is important. They will provide you with a better audience. And meanwhile, you will have friends in other Houses who can give you a dose of reality that’s not academic when the Ravenclaws get to be too much for you.

            Hermione ended up folding her arms. You’ve already decided where to put me, haven’t you?

            I have. But you and your ermine are going to go far no matter what your House.

            Feeling Regina nudge her, and thinking about the way Harry didn’t think he was better than her just because he had a golden familiar, let Hermione smile as the Hat shouted, “RAVENCLAW!”

*

            Draco shook his head as he watched Neville Longbottom almost run off with the Sorting Hat on his way to Hufflepuff. His hopping, silvery toad familiar was the only distinguishing thing about him, and from what Draco had overheard as they were waiting for the Sorting to begin, it was named Trevor. Draco could think of many other things to name it—

            Well, okay, maybe not a toad. But better than Trevor.

            Now it was his turn. Draco marched towards the Hat, and he knew people were watching him. If nothing else, there would be people eager to see where a hereditary enemy or ally of their people would be put. And Professor Snape would be sitting, calmly attentive. He had to know that Draco was going into Slytherin, but he would want to watch.

            There were eyes behind him, though.

            Draco turned, almost expecting to see it was Weasley. But then he realized it was Harry, and he was already holding his hands poised ready to clap. Draco blinked and shook his head. Had Harry even noticed the other people edging towards him and trying to get his attention once they saw that he had a golden snake?

            Abruptly, Harry disappeared. It took Draco a long moment to realize that he was seeing the brim of the Sorting Hat.

            So sure that you know your destiny, young Malfoy?

            Draco jumped. Of course he knew the truth about how students were placed into their Houses—his parents hadn’t thought it right to keep the method from him in the name of tradition—but he hadn’t known that having that voice speak right into his head would be so startling.

            I know where I belong.

            But you’ve already begun to change, said the Hat slyly. Young Mr. Potter has changed you.

            How do you know that? But, of course, the Hat could read his mind. Draco felt foolish about the question immediately after he asked it.

            Don’t feel foolish, young man. There was the indefinable sensation of the Hat turning pages in Draco’s head like a book. Draco gripped the edges of the stool so he wouldn’t shake his head. There’s a fine mind here. You might do well in Ravenclaw. If you wanted to go there.

            And be with Granger?

            The Hat laughed, a sound like velvet rustling in the back of Draco’s mind. I think you are going to be spending a lot of time with Miss Granger, whatever House you end up in and whether or not you want to.

            Draco sighed. That was probably true. He looked under the Hat at Harry. Harry still stood there smiling and ready to applaud, and Golden had looped his head over Harry’s arm and was watching Draco with eyes that shone like rubies, his tongue darting in and out like a breath of flame.

            Draco hesitated. You could put me in Ravenclaw?

            Many students are suited to more than one House. In this case, I am giving you the choice.

            Draco thought about it. In Ravenclaw, he would not only spend time with Granger, he also wouldn’t have Crabbe or Goyle with him. He might be around people who would expect him to be obsessed with books all the time. He might displease his parents.

            Would I have Harry with me?

            I cannot answer that question without also looking into young Mr. Potter’s head.

            Of course it couldn’t. Draco tapped his heel against the side of his chair and looked sideways at Kali, who sat on his shoulder and looked down her nose at him like a hawk. Draco smiled. He had promised her that she could curl up in his bed in the dungeons and shelter from the cold that way. And that there were lots of shadows to swoop out of so she could frighten people.

            You’ve chosen?

            Yes. Draco sneaked a look at Harry. And who knows? He’s pretty manipulative. He might join me there.

            “SLYTHERIN!”

*

            Golden was crawling urgently next to his feet by the time Harry went up to the Sorting Hat. Harry knew why. He’d had years of no one looking at him, even if the Dursleys sometimes seemed to sense that there was a strange presence protecting Harry, and suddenly they were in a world where everyone could see him and no one would stop staring.

            Harry stroked Golden’s tail once before he sat down on the stool and let the stern professor put the Sorting Hat on his head. He knew everyone was staring at him and murmuring, but that didn’t bother him.

            Thanks to Draco, he knew why they were staring. His status as someone with a golden familiar was just the way some people thought. It didn’t mean he was especially brave or strong or smart or important.

            And his status as the Boy-Who-Lived didn’t matter to him at all.

            It’s not many who could say that, Harry Potter, the Sorting Hat said abruptly into his head, making Harry jump before he thought about it. You’re a strange one. Where did you come by that attitude of yours that you’re not important?

            Well, the Dursleys always told me that I’m not important, Harry said, a little confused.

            That must change here. The Sorting Hat could speak pretty urgently for something made of cloth, Harry thought, as urgently as Golden was crawling. You must know how to wield your importance as a weapon, or someone else will do it for you.

            Draco told me a little about that. I’m not going to let anyone do it.

            If you persist in thinking of yourself as unimportant—

            It’s not that. It’s that I don’t believe that I’m the savior they all want me to be. But if they listen to me, that’s fine. I’m just going to tell them different things than they expect to hear.

            There was a long silence, which made Harry wonder if he’d offended the Hat somehow. And then the Hat began to chuckle, a noise that seemed to start far in the back of Harry’s head and then run forwards like the whistle of the Hogwarts Express.

            You have it all planned out, don’t you?

            Not all of it, Harry said firmly. He still didn’t know how to make people listen to him who were adults or who were determined to believe that he was this savior, but he did know what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that people with bronze and tin and copper familiars were just as important as anyone else, and they mattered. People should listen to them. People should learn to stand up on their own two feet and be friends with people who had different familiars and different parents and different Houses.

            Well, then. The Sorting Hat sounded pleased. I wondered about where to put you. Your friend Mr. Malfoy seemed to think you might be fit for Slytherin.

            Harry shrugged a little. I like Draco, but I don’t think we’re the same.

            No, indeed you are not. And there are qualities in you that would suit you for more than one House, but the task that you’ve taken on is what burns brightest in your mind. And I suspect you know what you’re going to have to do to accomplish it.

            Harry knew. Harder work than I’ve ever done in my life. I know. But I want to do it.

            “HUFFLEPUFF!”

*

            Ron tried to stand up to the stares that were coming at him as he went up to the Sorting Hat. He was almost the last one. There was just Zabini after him, really, and maybe one other person. Ron had kept staring at the Sorting Hat for the last few minutes, so he really wasn’t sure.

            On the other hand, that was better than staring at the Hufflepuff table the way he’d been doing for the few minutes before that. One of the twins had finally called, “Would Mum want to see your mouth that way, Ronniekins?” and Arctos had nudged his hand, which made Ron able to shut his mouth and turn away.

            But still. Harry Potter, a Hufflepuff.

            He looked perfectly happy to be there, too, Ron thought glumly as he sat down on the stool. He was already making friends with the Longbottom kid with the silver toad who had been Sorted there before him.

            What if he made all sorts of friends in Hufflepuff and left Ron behind?

            Do you think yourself so forgettable, young Mr. Weasley?

            Ron started. He had been thinking that the Hat just shouted out your House. He didn’t know it talked in your head. He swallowed nervously and gripped the sides of the stool.

            I don’t think I’m forgettable. It’s just that everyone forgets about me.

            The Hat made a sympathetic sound, although Ron thought it was probably laughing at him. That was what everyone else did, he thought grumpily. And for things he hadn’t done intentionally, the way they did with the twins. He was just being Ron when they laughed, clumsy Ron, forgettable Ron, sixth and last Ron. Just Ron.

            With that kind of envy and ambition to be great driving you, you would do well in Slytherin.

            No! Please, no!

            But that would make you different from your brothers. The Hat sounded coolly amused, the way some other pure-bloods had when they looked down on his family, or on Ron for only having a bronze familiar. What do you want most?

            The thought came to Ron without him having to think. To be great. To be noticed. To be different. To be Head Boy. To be a Quidditch champion. To have friends—

            The Hat was laughing this time, a muffled snicker, but the laughter sounded kind. Ron started to relax a little. I don’t see much commitment to hard work. That means that Hufflepuff isn’t a consideration.

            But Slytherin is? As little as Ron wanted to be a badger, he wanted to be a slimy snake even less.

            That is an attitude you will have to get over, it sounds like, said the Hat cheerfully. Young Mr. Potter is already uniting the Houses, and he didn’t even know it. And yes, Slytherin could be a consideration. Lots of people who want to be different, and important, and special, beg me to Sort them there.

            I want to be a Gryffindor!

            Do you? Or is it only that you have been told all your life that you should be, so you think you must go there?

            Ron hesitated. He could hear some discounted murmurs from the other students. He thought some of them were probably just bored and wanted their dinner, but he was sure some of them were also his own family, who were wondering why the Hat hadn’t just shouted him for Gryffindor right away.

            I think I really want to be, he said slowly, thinking about it. I mean, I want to have friends. So I don’t fit into Slytherin, because everyone there would hate me for my family name.

And perhaps for your determination to hate them, the Hat pointed out helpfully.

            Ron ignored that. I don’t know if I can be Head Boy, but I want to make the marks to do it—

            So, Ravenclaw?

            But I want to have more than just marks, Ron continued hastily. I want to be friendly, and I want to do so many things—I don’t know if I can do them all, but I want to do them—and I want to be Harry’s friend, and I want to understand why so many people forget about me, and I’ll even be friends with Granger and Malfoy if I have to—even if my brothers tease me, even if my parents are disappointed in me—

            And there. There’s the courage I was waiting for.

            “GRYFFINDOR!”

            Ron discovered his breathing was shallow when he finally ripped the Hat from his head. But Arctos nudged his hand again and padded proudly along beside him as they went to his House’s table, and for once the twins and Percy were cheering for Ron.

            Just him. Just Ron.

            Ron smiled and added a proud swagger of his own to his steps.

*

            Draco shook his head a little. He wondered what his father would say when he learned that Draco had friends in all three of the other Houses, or at least one friend and two other people Harry would insist that he associate with.

            Maybe three, he thought, noticing the way that Longbottom was cuddling up to Harry.

            It was all so strange. Draco had been pretty sure that Harry would be either a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, and he would be Sorted into Slytherin as soon as the Hat touched his head, and the other two would probably also be Gryffindors. And he was sure that having a golden familiar made you proud and mighty and respected and everyone who had one would want to take advantage of that.

            Now…now he didn’t know, he thought, as he watched Blaise Zabini stride over to their table with his silver dove skimming above him, and Professor McGonagall whisking the Sorting Hat away with her bronze cat running beside her, and Professor Dumbledore rising to his feet with his golden phoenix on his shoulder, and Professor Snape staring at all the students with distant, clouded eyes, his silver viper coiled around his neck.

            Draco seemed to see all of them differently. He didn’t automatically think of Dumbledore as the most powerful person in the room anymore, and he didn’t immediately decide that Blaise and Professor Snape must be more powerful than McGonagall. And it was just a Sorting that had changed all that. Just a few minutes. Maybe thirty, for all of the Sorting.

            He looked at one of the candles, and the way its flame wavered back and forth. His life had changed that quickly.

            “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” Professor Dumbledore said happily, and his phoenix spread its wings and clapped them as food appeared on their plates.

            Then his phoenix took flight, and landed in front of Harry’s Golden, and they stared at each other. A second later, Golden reached out to gently touch the phoenix’s beak.

            Draco shook his head in bewilderment and started eating. At least Harry was smiling and looking more relaxed than he had been on the train.

            Well. Wait. Maybe that just means he’s plotting something.

            Draco had to grin. He couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

            The End.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Children of the Sun