3. The Sorting Hat
The door swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes with a stern face. Hope looked up at the older witch with awe; she intimidated her, causing her to shrink when she caught the witch's gaze ever so slightly, but she also exuded an air of confidence, standing with a sureness Hope hoped to have one day.
"The first-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid introduced.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," McGonagall nodded.
She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fit the Lupin cottage in it twice. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hope peered towards the right, hearing the drone of hundreds of voices from the doorway – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years into a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "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," she continued. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any 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 honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. 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 while you are waiting," She finished.
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Hope noticed Harry nervously trying to flatten his hair, and she stood a bit straighter, smoothing out her robes.
"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." She said as she left the chamber.
Hope swallowed, looking around in awe.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Ron replied uncertainly.
"My dad says a hat decides," Hope added.
Harry furrowed his brows. "A hat?" he questioned.
She shrugged, nodding, not really understanding how a hat decides either.
No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learnt and wondering which one she'd need. Hope fiddled with her robes nervously. While she was excited, the longer she waited and listened to everyone else's theories and worries, the more anxious she became. Maybe they didn't use a hat anymore? Was Ron's brother telling the truth? With her limited knowledge of spells, Ravenclaw certainly seemed out of the question...
All of a sudden, several people behind Hope screamed, causing her to jump and turn to the noise.
"What the –?" She gasped along with everyone around her.
About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying,
"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –" One ghost said.
"My dear 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?" The other gohst applied.
The ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" the Fat Friar exclaimed, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar added. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first-years, "and follow me."
Hope took a deep breath and got into line behind Harry, with Ron behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Hope's mouth was agape as she looked at the Great Hall, which was a fitting name in her opinion. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up, as they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. Hope looked at the hundreds of faces staring at them.
She smiled, feeling slightly more at ease when she saw a familiar face at the table to her right. She waved excitedly at Cedric who waved back, grinning, giving her two thumbs up.
She looked up at the ceiling, seeing a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars, when she heard Hermione whisper. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
Hope quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
"Ah, so it is a hat," Hope thought.
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened 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 folk 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 whole Hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Hope.
"Told you," Hope said in a sing-song tone.
"I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll," Ron groaned.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she called out. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down nervously.
The was a moment of silence throught the hall when the hat suddenly shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Hope saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!" McGonagall called out, as Susan hurried over to the stool.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!" McGonagall called next, terry then stepping forward.
"RAVENCLAW!" The sorting hat yelled,
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. The Slytherin table cheered. Hope knew not all Slytherins were bad; in fact, her mum was a Slytherin, and she'd never heard anyone say a bad thing about her, but there was something about the house that seemed unpleasant.
McGonagall read the list in hand, calling out the next name. "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat called out, at once taking less time to decide than it had for others.
"Finnigan, Seamus," McGonagall called.
The sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!" McGonagall read next.
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned, and Hope elbowed him, rolling her eyes.
Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was then called; he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took what seemed to be the longest time to decide with Neville, when it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid the roar of laughter to give it to Hope, who was now sitting in front of McGonagall. She closed her eyes and gripped the stool tightly, her stomach doing somersaults as McGonagall placed the hat on her head.
"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Interesting. You could do well in many environments—very adaptable. You have quite the wit, extremely loyal. Yes, you'd do quite well in Hufflepuff. But there's also plenty of courage, I see, and honorable as well. Yes... better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Hope opened her eyes with a bright smile. She looked over at the Gryffindor table, which was cheering loudly. McGonagall lifted the hat, and Hope ran over to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to a set of red-haired twins she'd assumed were Fred and George. They congratulated her, one ruffling her hair. She swatted his hand away, smoothing her hair back down with a smile.
"Malfoy, Draco!" McGonagall called up.
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called, the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. There weren't many people left now.
"Moon" ... "Nott" ... "Parkinson" ... then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" ... then "Perks, Sally-Anne" ... and then, at last –
"Potter, Harry!" Hope crossed her fingers, hoping he would be in Gryffindor.
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The hat seemed to take the longest time with Harry, everyone anticipating what house he'll be in before finally, the hat called out "GRYFFINDOR!" Hope jumped up, clapping as loud as she could and cheered along with the rest of the table; he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Hope gave Harry a high five, and he sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff they'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm. Harry grinned at Hagrid, who was giving him a thumbs up.
There were only three people left to be sorted. "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Hope crossed her fingers under the table, and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Hope shot up and cheered and clapped enthusiastically with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," Percy Weasley said pompously, across from Harry as "Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Hope's stomach grumbled, and she looked down at her empty gold plate, hoping dinner would begin soon.
Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Hope clapped as well, laughing lightly at the nonsensical speech.
"Is he – a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.
"Mad?" Percy said airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
Hope looked down, seeing the once-empty dishes piled with food. She smiled wide, having never had so many options before: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and mint humbugs. Hope piled her plate high with roast chicken, lamb chops, sausage, Yorkshire pudding, and a heap of boiled potatoes.
Hope stuffed her face full as the ghost in the ruff looked on sadly.
"That does look good," he sighed, watching Harry cut his steak.
"Can't you –?" harry began
"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," the ghost, interrupted sadly. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" Ron said suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –" the ghost replied stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?" Seamus questioned
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Hope groaned and closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, not wanting to look as she was mid-chew.
She opened her eyes when she heard Nearly Headless Nick speak.
"So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin has got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."
Hope glanced at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy, who didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements, much to Hope's pleasure.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked, with great interest.
"I've never asked," Nearly Headless Nick said delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding...
As Hope took a scoop of vanilla ice cream as well as a chocolate éclair, the talk turned to their families.
"I'm half and half," Seamus explained. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
The others laughed.
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.
"Well, my gran brought me up, and she's a witch," Neville replied, "but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
"And you?" Seamus asked Hope, everyone turning their attention to her.
"It's just me and my dad, but both of my parents were wizards. It was never a question if I was magical or not. Apparently, when I was 4 for a good few months, every time I sneezed, I'd break something. Broke Mum's favorite tea set and Dad's record player," Hope answered, as she ttok a bite of ice cream.
"What's a record player?" Ron asked, with furrowed brows.
"It's a big box that you put these discs on and it plays music, it's a Muggle contraption," she replied.
Ron nodded, though he looked as though he didn't quite understand.
"Ouch!"
Hope turned to see Harry with his hand clapped to his head.
"What is it?" asked Percy.
"N-nothing." Harry stammered, rubbing his head. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling he had got from the teacher's look – a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
Hope looked at the teacher next to Quirrell who had greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
"That's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin House," Percy replied. "Harry, Ron, and Hope, you best stay clear of him. He's not someone to cross."
Hope nodded, turning back to her pudding, feeling a bit uneasy. She scooped up a spoonful of treacle tart and shoved it into her mouth, the sweetness helping her push thoughts of Snape to the back of her mind.
At last, the puddings too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.
"Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Hope looked taken aback, not sure if he was joking or not. Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.
"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.
"Must be," Percy shruged, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Prefects, at least."
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried.
Hope noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself snake-like into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" Dumbledore said.
And the school bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he sighed, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them, and as Percy took a step towards them, they started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first-years. "A poltergeist. Peeves – show yourself," he added, raising his voice.
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Percy called out.
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him; he won't even listen to us Prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. It was a warm and cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs arranged around the fireplace, which gave a comforting glow. Hope grinned, her face beginning to hurt from the amount of smiling she had done today.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers – they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep-red velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed. Among Hope's dormitory mates were Hermione, whom she already knew, as well as Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown.
Hope lay in bed, a smile still etched on her face. She wasn't sure what the coming days would hold, but she knew that in this moment, she was completely content.