As the express gradually slows, students and professors have been packing their hand luggage and preparing to get off.
"Ugh....this is a drag...." Frolava drawls, "Why on earth do they even need to build the school this far? Call it fancy, but I'd say impractical.
"Well....because it is for protection use, muggles shouldn't know--"
She scoffed, "Sounds more like a skill issue to me instead. You're a wizard, and you're afraid of mortals finding out your kind?"
"It's called tradition, you mud-blood."
"Or decadency warped in a sugar coat, blondie."
"Hahah!! Draco, the new girl got you, good."
--------
The great hall is bustling with people as different years file in, group by group.
"Students." The silver-haired headmaster spoke with a stern tone, but not unkind. His eyes filled with the usual twinkle behind half-moon glasses. "Welcome to another wonderful year of Hogwarts. Now I know all of you must have been starving."
"But before the feast begins, let's give our new members a greeting, shall we?" He then gestured towards the main stage area of the Great Hall.
One by one, the transfer students walked out to the main stage to wait for the sorting hat to be placed on their heads.
"Alright. Please come to the stage to be sorted by the hat when you hear your name. The first one is-----miss...Frolava." an old female professor said with her stern voice as she held out a list of student names, her pale hair tied up in a bun elegantly, dark green robes hanging on her slender frame.
First, out of all students, a pair of red heels clicks on top of the stage---
As pairs of eyes watch Frolava walk onto the stage towards the sorting hat, it is as if peasants were watching their queen take a crown.
"I have a feeling she is going straight to the dungeon with us~" a Slytherin girl snickered towards her friend on the left.
"You have 3 seconds to decide where I am going," Frolava spoke in her usual cynical tone whilst playing with her blood red wand.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
No new student had dared to threaten the sorting hat, one of the old and sacred artifacts Hogwarts held; reduced to an object being threatened*
If seeing what a soul one has is the sorting hat's power, it'd regret having its power seeing through Frolava's head----
Surely, a whole world of rotten, corrosive blood, deformed and reforming monsters of billions in the endless void and seas sounds mildly concerning. Let alone witnessing.
That's what the sorting hat saw. Billions of some unknown monster army, a void of endless sea made with rotten and corrosive blood; the liquid tore and reformed the flesh of the sickening monsters again and again forevermore----it was the most nauseous scene the sorting hat has ever seen. Perhaps worse than the dark lord's vision, even.
".....azkaba--- SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat literally trembled above Frolava's head as it shouted its answer. Phew, nearly had it spoken the prison name out loud; it would have been shreds on the ground.
All of the professors around their tables paled. Even ones with a stern and stoic personality, such as Snape, had failed to school his expression back into his normal unimpressed scowl, eyes wide.
'Azkaban', it said. If this isn't concerning, the world must have been ending.
Even for the Slytherin table, there weren't many student dare to make a sound to cheer. Though there were bold ones like Mattheo. He isn't any regular student after all.
"Ha....that's more like it," Frolava said in her airy yet cynically soft voice. She lazily got up from the seat and walked back down to where the Slytherin table was located, and was just about to take a random seat.
"Oh hey, new girl~ looking for a new seat?" A male with dark brown hair and a sweet smile spoke gently, but definitely not innocently. "If you can't find one, you could sit on my lap if you want," he then playfully patted his lap with a wink.
"Oh bloody Merlin....there Enzo goes again...." Draco cussed as his side eye swiped across the dark-haired male, Lorenzo Berkshire. Everyone knows he is that popular type who is charming and kind, yet cunning and highly calculating within.
Frolava simply eyed him once, ignoring the still ongoing house sorting event for the other new transfer students; she pulled Lorenzo along with his chair back, sat down right on top of him as if he were her chair.
Without remorse, without expression.
Lorenzo froze. He'd have many girls he wanted. All soon over and blush around him, but this girl...she just sat on him like he's no more than a chair to her. "Well....damn. You're bold, as hell." The guy slowly recovered as his charming smile appeared on his lips again, yet now laced with an unreadable glint behind those eyes.
Well, so did the other students; except for Mattheo. His eyes were gleaming with renewed interest. Of course, he would be intrigued. He is the ultimate chaos anyway.
No one dared to push her off or scurry her away, certainly not the professors either, when the deadly cynical girl had declared silently about her newly owned flesh chair and sat comfortably on Lorenzo.
".....ahem... next we have Aurelia Mianovell."
"....."
"Aurelia Mianovell, again?" The stern female professor asked once again, one of her eyebrows lifted. There wasn't anyone replying- strange; did they not hear Professor McGonagall? The other students looked at each other, also confused, as murmurs spread like wildfire.