all the sorts
Hogwarts was magnificent. There was no other way to put it. Just magnificent.
It was seven stories high, supported by magic. There were towers and turrets everywhere which gave it a medieval feel. Even from a distance, you could see little acts of magic, levitating staircases or moving trees.
Alexander knew all about Hogwarts. He had, after all, read Hogwarts: A History. He, however, was not prepared for the actual thing. Most of his fellow first-years felt the same as they tried to catch a glimpse of it through the windows of the slowing down train.
Most. Alexander heard side remarks this from one boy, the one with the poofy hair he saw boarding the train.
"Hogwarts," he said scornfully. "Monticello looks better than this old dump."
You were the one to judge how Hogwarts looked when you're wearing bright pink robes? This bitch.
"Actually," he started. "Hogwarts-" He was cut off when he heard a voice.
"First years! First years, follow me," he heard it say. Alexander and his friends left their compartment to see a guy directing them off of the train. "This way, this way, don't worry about your trunks, just follow me."
Once they were out of the train, they were sent across a lake on self-paddling canoes. They were led into a hall, where Headmistress McGonagall was waiting.
"Thank you, Prefect Washington," she said. "Now, we are about to begin the sorting ceremony. If you have read Hogwarts: A History, like you were supposed to-"
Alexander elbowed John. "Ha, told you so," he said teasingly. John rolled his eyes.
"You would know about the Houses of Hogwarts," McGonagall continued. "Now, follow me."
She led them into a dining hall. There were four tables, each full of students. At the end of the hall there was a long table where the instructors sat. In front of the teacher's table, there was a stool, and on it sat a tattered old hat. When McGonagall and the first years reached the hat, it 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!
"Now, we shall begin," said McGonagall. "When I call your name, come up here and the hat will sort you. Aaron Burr," she called out.
Aaron made his way up to the stool. He looked so poised and prepared, that asshole. Alexander's anxiety was eating him alive.
McGonagall placed the hat on his head. After a quick moment of consideration, the hat called out, "SLYTHERIN!"
Aaron made his way to the Slytherin table. Alexander heard rumors about Slytherin. He heard that they were the worst house, and were not to be trusted.
"Next! Thomas Jefferson!"
Oh, so that's what the kid's name was. The guy with the poofy hair and horrible pink robes made his way up to the table. The hat was placed on his head.
"Wow, an asshole this one," Alexander thought he heard the hat say. "Great hair though. Ok, RAVENCLAW!"
But he liked the Ravenclaw house.
"Elizabeth Schuyler!" Oh, Eliza! Alexander hoped that they were in the same house.
"HUFFLEPUFF," the hat screamed. Ok, friendships between houses was acceptable, right?
"Angelica Schuyler!"
"Oh, there's another. What there's three of you? Angelica, that's rude. Awesome. Wow. Damn, you got wit. RAVENCLAW," the hat yelled. This hat was just full of sass.
"Peggy Schuyler!"
"Here we go," it said sarcastically. Alexander lowkey wanted to be this hat's friend. "Huh. Uh huh. RAVENCLAW."
Alexander saw Prefect Washington welcome Angelica and Peggy to the Ravenclaw table. Huh. Washington seemed more like a Gryffindor himself, but whatever, the hat knows best.
"James Madison!"
Oh, he saw this kid talking to Jefferson. He didn't know how he felt about this.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Ok, maybe this kid wasn't a major asshole.
"Hercules Mulligan!"
Go Mulligan!, Alexander thought. You are one of my great friends and I will totally support you no matter what-
"SLYTHERIN!"
Er.
Alexander felt someone grasp his hand. John. Alex looked up into John's very freckled, very pretty face.
"I don't want to be in Slytherin," Alex whispered.
"Me neither," said John.
"It's ok, we'll be ok," he said.
"Alexander Hamilton!"
The hat was placed on his head.
"Oh, wow, you are a real piece of work," the hat said. "Not Hufflepuff, oh, you would do horribly in Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw? You are pretty smart- oh no you're pretty stupid sometimes. Aha! I got it. SLYTHER- Oh wait. Oh, no no no no no no. Yeah, uh huh, uh huh, GRYFFINDOR!"
Well that was an experience. Alexander joined the Gryffindor table, and anxiously waited for John to be sorted.
"Maria Reynolds!"
That's nice and all, but when was John going to be sorted?
"SLYTHERIN!"
"John Laurens!"
Fucking finally.
"Oh, I gotchu, HUFFLE-oh wait, oh wait huh, you wanna, you sure? Ok then, if you insist-GRYFFINDOR!"
Thank god.
"Now, we have one more student to be sorted," said McGonagall.
"What does she mean," Alex whispered to John. "There's literally no one left."
"It's probably Laf, that dramatic little prick," John said. He rolled his eyes.
"He is a transfer student from Beauxbatons, and he was transferred here for his safety, as France is suffering from the wraths of You-Know-Who. Be kind, as he does not speak much French. Please welcome, Gilbert!"
At this moment, 2 thing happened at once. John and Hercules burst out laughing like there was no tomorrow, and the doors of the hall opened to the sound of trumpets and confetti. In strode a wizard, with great hair tied into a ponytail. The hall silenced and cleaned itself of confetti, but John and Hercules could not stop laughing.
Gilbert reached the Sorting Hat now. He looked unflustered, like he was used to all the attention. Like he was royalty.
It was placed on his head.
"Well, another rich, royal, privileged-oh you aren't horrible. Actually, I quite like you. So, Hufflepuff? Actually you would do well in Ravenclaw. Actually , oh this is hard. But oh, you did that. That's really reckless man, get your shit together. Ok, now then, GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yelled.
Such a short ceremony for such an elaborate entrance.
He made his way to Alexander's table and sat next to John and him.
"Gilbert," John said in a way of greeting. He was still laughing.
"Hey man you shut your mouth right now or I shove it up your sorry ass-"
"What's so funny?" interrupted Alex. I mean, Gilbert didn't do anything yet.
"Gilbert," replied John. Oh yes, because that explains it all.
"Yes, Gilbert, and if you ever refer to me like that again I will rip out your throats and-"
"Harsh," said Alex. It was just a name.
"You can understand me?" he asked. What kind of question was that?
"Yes, I can understand you, you are speaking English, aren't you?" Alex said sarcastically.
"Well, no," said John. "We're speaking French. How would you know how to speak French?"
"I don't?" Alex was confused.
"Actually, some people are born fluent in every language. Kinda like some kids are born speaking Parseltounge, or born gifted and talented and beautiful like me," said Gilbert. "And call me Lafayette, or you will never see the living day again."
"Wow, where'd you learn all that," muttered John.
"Beaux. We start a month ahead, so I'm already so much smarter than all you lot," Lafayette said. Alexander laughed. As if.
"You know what," said Lafayette. "Since you're already fluent in talking shit, I mean French, you can join me in my elite circles."
"What you don't have a name for them?"
"Actually, we do, but we don't tell people cause that's so pretentious," said John. He leaned in close. "Revolutionary Crew," he whispered.
Damn right that was fucking pretentious. Alexander loved it already.