Slither ⌘ HP fanfic

II

Ramona had never felt so cold in her life. Living by a lake in Wales and going to school at Durmstrang definitely exposed her to frigid weather, but nothing could compare to the soul-chilling coldness of the Slytherin dungeon dorms.

None of the other students seemed to be shivering.
Ramona's heart was ice cold, however.

She longed for her mother.
She longed for Sigrid, and Victor.

She longed even for retched old Prof. Veslik, with his crusty, gray mustache and dark, unconventional teaching methods.

Ramona decided she would rather be at Durmstrang again at age ten and suffer the vileness of those children than be here any day.

Hours earlier, Ramona Gaunt had been sorted like a first year into Slytherin, the word her mother yelled to her moments before apparating away to who knows where. No "goodbye," no "I love you," just "Slytherin." Ramona had not known what that word had meant at the time, but as she made her way up to what was know as the Sorting Hat, she caught a glimpse of a table adorned in green and silver colors, with some of its occupants giving Ramona intimidating smirks. Slytherin.

She had pleaded with the Sorting Hat to place her in Slytherin, for her mother had warned her that she would not be safe in any other house. Ramona had a certain part to play—and being sorted into Slytherin sealed the deal.

Now newly christened Ramona snuggled into her bed, her face blotchy and her eyes puffy from silently crying through the night instead of sleeping.

She could not determine if it was day. The murky green waters of what seemed to be a lake stared back at her. The liquid seemed a shade brighter than it was when Ramona had first started to cry earlier that night, but not bright enough to be breakfast time.

She was alone in her dorm room.

There were six four-poster beds, and six porthole windows to match. The beds were lined up neatly and orderly, like they would be in an 19th-century infirmary. The sheets were white, with a dark green quilt, and a green, gray, and black plaid woolen blanket for when the nights got cooler. There were two fluffy white pillows, but nothing decorative.

Ramona would fix that. If this place had to be her new home for who knows how long, she would make sure it felt like home.

Today was the first day of school at Hogwarts. It was early morning, but even so, children of all years were bustling about common rooms, hallways, and the Great Hall, making friends and eating food.

Hogwarts did not run on a severely structured schedule like Durmstrang. Breakfast time was anytime between six in the morning to a few seconds before your first class. The food appeared at dawn and seemingly never leaves the tables, only changing to suit the different menus of lunch and dinner. At Durmstrang Institute, however, breakfast had a set time: 7 o'clock. Students were out of their beds at 6, required to dress and ready quickly, then ushered down to the meal hall at half past.

Most of the time, Ramona just slept the night at her cottage and ate breakfast there. Her mother adeptly apparated her to the school, kissed her goodbye, and was off doing whatever she did while Ramona was in classes.

Having a schedule kept Ramona's mind occupied. She always had a place to be and something to do. Her mind was not allowed to wander off and wonder what some of the teachers whispered about as Ramona passed them, or how the headmaster never looked Ramona directly in the eye, or even why, after all these years, she still heard children whispering about her "revolting" father, a man Ramona didn't even know.

Now lacking a schedule, Ramona's mind did wander and wonder.

Her mother never seemed to disembark her train of thought.