The Sorting Ceremony
Hermione and Draco continued there discussion from the train, onto the boats, and all the way up the stairs. Neville mostly stayed out of it, only offering the odd opinion and acting as the mediator to stop anything from escalating between the two philomaths.
" - And that's how electricity works."
"Really? And muggles have been developing this for the last century or so? Incredible! If only the wizarding world were more open to adapting, we could really evolve faster than ever! This technology could fly past better, right down to revolutionary!"
"Okay it's my turn for a question. Does Hogwarts really not teach Maths or English?"
"I mean we have Arithmancy which I suppose deals with numeracy in a sense, but is more focused around Divination. All wizard children learnt about what you would consider the basic muggle subjects from a young age, and then we drop them when we come to Hogwarts."
"But what if you forget? The young mind needs to have a constant stimulai for the topic or else it might slip by the waysi -"
She was interrupted by a large door swinging open. On the other side of it was a tall, harsh looking woman in emerald green robes. She had black hair, a pointed hat and a stern face. She was all sharp edges and had an presence that demanded respect.
"The firs'- years, Professor McGonagall." Said Hagrid. Her eyes scanned the group of anxious students.
"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled open the doors wide to reveal what Draco assumed was The Entrance Hall.
It's size reminded Draco of the manor's ballroom, except instead of a large chandelier, the room was lit with flaming torches. A marble staircase led them all to the upper floors. Draco could hear babbling from further along and deduced that the rest of the school were already there. It would make sense, since only the first years could use the boats across the lake, and they needed a large audience for the sorting.
Professor McGonogall filed them all into a small empty chamber off the hall, and Draco found himself having the tug on Neville and Hermione's robes to keep them moving as they were still taking in the castle. The castle so far had only reminded Draco of the East wing of the manor, and had made him a bit uncomfortable. He hoped all of the castle wasn't like this.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." Mcgonogall's voice broke through the chatter. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room." This whole talk was simultaniously making Draco feel more excited and more nervous. He would be in Slytherin, and his father had already explained the way the dorms worked and how he would be at the top of the class hierarchy because of his family's wealth and prestige.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has it's own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while your rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." Draco hoped so too.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can." Draco caught her glancing at Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear. Instinctively Draco went in front of him and immediately starting smarting him up, refastening his cloak properly, and smoothing out the creases. He'd had practice from Narcissa's many questionable fashion choices over the years so he was adept at making Neville look more suitable. Hermione watched all this with a smirk.
"Are you quite done, mother duck?" She asked snarkily. Draco coloured slightly and let go of Neville to wipe at the chocolate on his own trousers. He wondered why all of his nicknames featured ducks. Neville instead smiled thankfully and focused once more on McGonagall.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," she said. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.
Draco overheard Harry and the Weasley talking loudly about how they were going to be sorted. When Weasley mentioned a test, he saw Hermione tense up.
"A test? I didn't know there was going to be a test! Which spell would I need. I only practiced the ones that were in the school books, but does it rely on more of an improvisational tone? Is it altered to fit each student, or would it be the same throughout? Is it a duel or practical?" She rambled on, seemingly to herself. Draco nudged her shoulder.
"There isn't a test, don't worry. I've read about the sorting, they put the magic sorting hat on your head and it reads your mind to deduce which house you would fit best in by your qualities. There's no way to fail. Unless you have a very diverse personality, but then the sorting hat just makes a decision. I've heard it even takes opinion into account sometimes. So I wouldn't worry." He was saying that to himself as much as he was saying it to her. He saw some people as well as Hermione sigh a little in relief when he explained this.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, about 20 ghosts streamed through the wall and the children. He heard yells and screams, one coming from Neville, but couldn't but watch the transparent figures in fascination.
They appeared to be arguing, and they all varied drastically. Draco had read about ghosts a lot, they were featured quite a bit in his story book. He even swore he recognised some from the pictures, pulled right out of legend. He clenched his fists excitedly.
" - Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had noticed the first years. Draco looked up at him with a gasp.
"Are you Duke Richard Robert Hensington The Rich?" He asked the ghost, who was looking at him with newfound interest.
"Why yes I am! Finally, someone with a good taste in history! I say, boy, where did you hear of me?" The ghost asked Draco with a proud posture, smoothing back what little hair he had.
"You're in the Big Book Of Stories, Tales, Myths and Legends, sir." Draco explained.
"Of course I'm a legend, I'm legendary!" Draco refrained from mentioning that the ghost's life and death were considered more cautionary fairy tales. The other students were watching in awe as Draco talked to the smug ghost, some cowering away from the pearly white form as he floated upwards. "So which one of you little first years cares to hear the legend of the great, the incredible, the breathtaking -!"
"Move along now," a sharp voice cut in. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The flying Duke frowned at the interruption, but floated after the other ghosts into the hall. "Now form a line," McGonagall instructed, "and follow me."
Draco clasped his hands together nervously, but followed after McGonagall, staying right behind an eager Hermione and right before an anxious Neville.
Around them thousands of candles bobbed up and down across the hall, giving both a soft and harsh glow at the same time. There were four long tables stretching out, representing each house. Said tables were laid with golden plates and goblets, the candlelight bouncing off of them, causing them all to shimmer.
The effect was ethereal.
At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers all sat. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up here so that came to a halt in a straight line, facing the other students. All faces were looking at them, the attention clearly making some of the children a bit uncomfortable. The ghosts wandered the tables in a pale silver light, paying less attention than the students, simply being there for the effect. Draco looked up at the ceiling, a starry night staring back at him, showing constellations so clearly it was as if the ceiling had opened up to the heavens. He could here Hermione whisper "Even better than the pictures," as she too looked up at the sky.
Professor McGonagall put out a wooden stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a large pointed wizard's hat. This one was old and dusty, looking to fall apart at the seams at any moment. The sorting hat, Draco realised.
The whole hall was quiet, staring at the hat. The hat twitched. Once. Then twice. It then opened a rip near the brim wide, like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The Great Hall burst into applause at it's finish and Draco couldn't help but do the same in sheer confusion. He heard a voice near the back start yelling a bit but it was shushed as quickly as it started. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a large roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbott, Hannah!"
A girl with long blonde pigtails stumbled out the line from behind Neville. Her face was flushed pink with excitement. She put on the hat, letting it fall over her eyes, and sat down on the stool. Not a moment of silence went by before the sorting hat announced:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The table on the right cheered and clapped for her with an enthusiasm Draco new would calm down as the sorting went on.
Another girl with a short black bob flounced to the front as McGonagall called, "Bones, Susan!"
She sat on the stool and slipped on the tattered hat. This time it took a little longer before the hat called out:
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Boot, Terry!"
Quite a short boy with shoulder length brown hair hesitantly walked to the stool. Draco could see the boy flapping the hands that were by his side. McGonagall noticed too, but simply handed the boy the hat with a small smile, a comforting gesture that looked odd on the woman's stern facial features. The boy grabbed the hat and sat on the stool. This time it took the longest. He saw the hat crunch up on itself as if in a thinking expression before it yelled out loudly:
"RAVENCLAW!"
This startled the boy, as did the round of applause that came from the Ravenclaw table. McGonagall took the hat off the boy's head and pushed him towards the Ravenclaw table. He was now in Draco's view and Draco saw his expression grow into a slight panic as he flapped his hands some more. Over the noise he sounded to be clicking his tongue fastly, and his eyes darted about. The boy, Terry, made eye contact with Draco and Draco tried giving him a small smile. The boy bit his tongue and the flapping softened as he sat down. Draco focused his attention back to the sorting.
First years Draco didn't know continued to be sorted into Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff in that order. The time it took to sort seemed to vary on the person, such as for Seamus Finnigan, who took over a minute to be sorted into Gryffindor. Most of the children stayed smiling, so Draco imagined that the hat wasn't overtly reading their minds. It didn't do much to quench the nervousness that pooled in the bottom of his stomach.
Finally, Hermione was called up. She turned to him with a quick nervous grin before walking up proudly. She sat down and put the hat on her head right away. It took about 10 seconds before the hat yelled out:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione smiled widly and went to sit at the gold and red table with the applauding students. Draco was happy for her, it was the house she wanted most to be in, but couldn't help but wish that she'd made it into Slytherin, where he'd be.
Still, to show support, he caught her eye and gave her a big thumbs up, and saw Neville mirror his motion from behind. Neville stood to attention as soon as Professor McGonagall called out, "Longbottom, Neville!"
Draco gave his hand a quick squeeze as he walked past him, and Neville gave a grateful smile in return. He walked over to the stool a bit more confidently and put on the sorting hat.
For Neville it took a while longer. A whole minute with the hat on his head he sat on that wooden stool. Draco could admit to feeling a bit worried, as this was the longest the hat had gone before making a decision this sorting. Finally the hat grumbled out:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Excitement filled Neville's face as he raced off the stool with the ratty old hat still on his head. After sorting that situation out to many bouts of laughter, he sat next to Hermione. Draco guiltily felt the same things he'd felt about Hermione's sorting. Sure he'd make other friends in Slytherin, but he rather liked those two.
A few more students were sorted into their respected houses until Draco was called up. He put all his worries out in front of him, and then folded them neatly away. He then put them in a drawer in his mind, and locked it up. He was a Malfoy, and he was going to go up in front of the entire school to be sorted into Slytherin. Now is not the time to panic.
He walked up briskly and took the hat. He sat on the stool and waited with a cool expression.
"Well now, it's been a while since I've had a Malfoy...especially one as strange as you..." A croaky old voice whispered in his ear. He shivered. It was awfully strange. "Now where to put you..." Draco hesitated.
'Slytherin of course.' He thought into the hat. The hat gave a weary chuckle in response.
"No, now that would be easy, lazy. You deserve to be in a house you belong."
'But I do belong in Slytherin!' Draco thought louder. 'I should be in Slytherin!'
"Should you?" The hat asked. "Is that what you want? Well you don't have much ambition...you have a lot of intelligence and loyalty...oh, and a caring nature...maybe Hufflepuff? No, I think you'd do far better in another house... RAVENCLAW!" The hat yelled out to the hall. It was then that Draco realised his sorting had taken the longest out of all of them.
The Great Hall was silent.
Everyone knew who he was.
What he was meant to be.
Everyone knew what a mistake he was.
McGonagall took the hat off his head and pushed him towards a quiet Ravenclaw table. Some muggleborns and first years gave a confused applause as he sat down. It was then that his panic broke loose from the drawer in his mind to his entire body.
He felt too cold, too hot, everything was too loud and too quiet. He couldn't focus on the goblet directly in front of him and his vision kept shaking. All he could think of was what trouble he was in. 'Father's going to kill me. Father's going to kill me. Father's going to kill me,' was all that cycled in his mind. He blocked out the rest of the sorting and tried to keep his breathing quiet.
It was then that Draco noticed a tapping on his right shoulder. He turned around to see the first Ravenclaw boy, Terry, sitting by his side. At the sudden eye contact Terry smiled at him and put two thumbs up, and Draco couldn't help but feel endeared. Draco breathed in deeply and gave Terry two shaky thumbs up in return. At this, his grin grew wider. An applause from a sorting Draco didn't pay attention to rang out and Draco watched as Terry dropped his thumbs up to cover his ears. Draco, still not handling the noise great either, copied Terry. Terry smiled and him wordlessly and focused his gaze onto the sorting.
Draco could only stare at the table, blocking everything out. He felt like he'd been left out in the rain overnight, and couldn't muster a grin. He felt empty other than a seeping dread that overcame him. His father would find out and he would get in trouble. He didn't enjoy the feast and ignored any questions or jabs the other Ravenclaws made. Despite being empty, he wasn't hungry, not even for his favourite, chocolate pudding.
He just felt alone.
What was he going to do?