Chapter 12
She turned back to Neville, ignoring the way Ron’s face turned red. “What do you think, Neville?” This time she made sure to address him directly.
“W-Well, we might have to—” He was cut off when several people screamed, making them both spin around. Crystal was ready to fight, while Neville was ready to run.
Crystal gasped along with the others when she saw several ghosts fly through the wall. She assumed everyone else was shocked at seeing ghosts in person. Crystal was just shocked at how the ghosts looked; she was used to seeing ghosts, but not ones that looked like this.
There were about twenty ghosts in total that had just flown through the back wall. Each one was pearly-white and slightly transparent, unlike the ghosts she was so used to seeing in the ghost zone. She wondered what made these ghosts different from normal ones and vowed to find out.
The twenty ghosts glided across the room, talking with one another and hardly glancing at the first years. It seemed like most of the ghosts were unaware that the children were there at all.
They seemed to be arguing. One that looked like a chubby little monk was talking loudly with another ghost that was wearing ruffles and tights. “Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—”
“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 truly even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?” The ghost with the ruffles and tights suddenly seemed to notice that he and his ghostly pals were not alone in the room.
Crystal noticed how no one else was speaking up and chose to answer the ghostly man herself. She could understand the others being skittish; for most, if not all of them, this must be their first time ever encountering a ghost.
“We’re new students, sir, waiting to be sorted,” she said politely. She didn’t want to be rude; she didn’t know what these ghosts were capable of. Not to mention, she tried to be polite to others unless they were rude to her.
“New students? How wonderful,” the one who looked like a monk said, smiling at the children. “Hope to see some of you in Hufflepuff!” The Ghostly Monk continued. “My old house, you know.”
Just then, a sharp voice spoke up. “Move along now.” Crystal turned and saw that Professor McGonagall had returned. “The sorting ceremony is about to start.”
Crystal gave the ghosts a little wave as they all turned and floated away through the opposite wall. A few of them returned her wave with a surprised but pleased smile on their faces.
Professor McGonagall gave her a curious look that Crystal ignored. She was only being polite, so she had no reason to explain herself to this woman.
“Now, form a line,” the Professor told the first years after realizing Crystal wouldn’t be explaining anything. “And follow me.”
Crystal got in line behind Neville and held back her annoyance when Ron got behind her. It seemed to her that he wanted to make everyone believe that they were the best of friends after just one train ride.
The children followed the Professor out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. Crystal thought this was much more complicated than it should be. The Professor should have taken them through that other door that Crystal had heard the voices from; instead, she was leading them around a different door that went to the same room.
Several of her fellow first years expressed surprise and awe when walking into the Great Hall. Crystal could admit that it was pretty, but once again, it wasn’t the most amazing place in the world to her.
The room was lit by thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. Crystal hoped that there was some magic involved in making sure hot wax didn’t fall on the students. She also wondered why no one had thought to update the castle with modern lighting yet. She would have to look into that.
The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets—something Crystal thought was way too over the top for a school. Normal glass plates and cups should have been fine; they didn’t have to make them gold.
Looking around, she spotted another long table at the top of the hall. It seemed to be where the teachers sat. She wondered whose idea it was to make the teachers’ table reside high above the students, making it feel like they looked down upon the students like gods or kings and queens.
Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the teachers’ table. They came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school, with the teachers behind them. Crystal believed once again that this was unnecessary. Were they attempting to make the skittish and fearful kids have a panic attack or something?
The hundreds of faces of the rest of the school staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight—something that seemed to make poor Neville even more nervous. Crystal leaned over and whispered to him, “It’s okay, Neville, they don’t matter.” She then leaned away and stood straight up, ignoring the way Professor McGonagall gave her a reproachful look.
Crystal looked out over the crowd of students and noticed that dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone out like silvery beacons in the night. Looking up, Crystal saw a velvety black ceiling speckled with stars. She wondered what magic was responsible for that and then heard Hermione start whispering.
“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.”
Crystal decided she would need to learn that spell. If anything, it would be a good gift for Danny if she could bewitch the ceiling of his room to look like the night sky. She could do it both at his parents' home and his castle in the ghost zone. She knew how much he loved space; it would make an amazing Christmas or birthday present for him.
She knew how much he disliked Christmas; his parents had ruined it for him throughout his life. She would work hard to learn this spell before the holidays began so she could at least make that time of year a bit better for him.
Crystal looked back down as Professor McGonagall silently placed an uncomfortable-looking, four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed a pointed wizard's hat. The hat had clearly seen better days—it was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty. She wondered when the last time anyone cleaned it was.
She wondered if they wanted them to pull a rabbit out of it before she decided that wasn’t it. They wouldn’t sort them based on whether they could pull a rabbit out of a hat; that was ridiculous.
She noticed that everyone was staring at the hat, so she stared at it too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. It was so silent, Crystal thought that everyone, even her, would be able to hear if a needle hit the ground from the other end of the room.
Then, after a moment, the hat twitched. A rip near the brim of the hat opened wide like a mouth, and to Crystal’s disbelief, the hat started 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 have 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 Crystal, once again trying to act friendly. “I’ll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll.”
Crystal wondered why Ron would even believe that in the first place. Having first-years fight a troll was absurd and made no logical sense. The troll could easily kill the students.
Crystal stared at the hat curiously. She still thought they should have sorted the students by themselves. It didn’t seem right that the teachers did this in front of the rest of the students.
Wait, she had to wear that dirty hat? No way, not a chance—she would refuse. Who knew if it had head lice on it? Not to mention, it was filthy. Sure, she didn’t mind if something was a little dirty, but this hat looked like it was caked in dirt, dust, and who knew what else. How hard could it be to keep one hat clean?
Professor McGonagall 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 looked down at the parchment in her hands and spoke, “Abbott, Hannah!”
A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line. Crystal thought she seemed nice. The girl, Hannah, sat down on the stool after picking up the dirty hat. She put the hat on, causing Crystal to shudder. How could she do that so willingly, without a second thought?
Maybe it was a side effect of growing up the way she had, but Crystal preferred to keep things neat and tidy. This hat was neither.
After a few moments of silence, the rip in the hat opened again. “HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat to the entire hall.
The table on the right, adorned with yellow and black banners, cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at what Crystal assumed was the Hufflepuff table. Crystal noticed that Hannah’s robes changed as well.
The trims of her robe, her tie, and the crest of her robes all changed. The trims were now yellow, the tie was striped like a bumblebee, and the crest on her robes changed from the Hogwarts crest to the Hufflepuff one.
Crystal saw the ghost that looked like a monk waving merrily to Hannah as she sat down. She smiled at seeing how well-received the ghosts were here. It was always wonderful to see people welcoming ghosts into their lives.
Sure, some ghosts were bad, but the same could be said for humans. There were good and bad humans, just like there were good and bad ghosts.
The sorting continued, unbothered. Crystal watched as Hermione, Ron, and Neville got sorted into Gryffindor. Poor Neville had been so excited that he had run off with the sorting hat still on his head. He had to sheepishly walk back to hand the hat back to Professor McGonagall, much to the amusement of the hall. Crystal felt bad for him and decided that even if they didn’t end up in the same house, she would still be friendly with him.
Crystal noticed that the dirty hat seemed to take varying amounts of time to sort students. Sometimes the hat would shout out the house right away, while other times it took a bit longer.
She watched as Malfoy swaggered up to the hat and put it on. She was surprised; she would have thought he would at least refuse, given how dirty it was.
The hat had barely touched his head before it shouted out “SLYTHERIN.” This seemed to please the blond boy, as he swaggered his way to his new table, joining his bodyguards in sitting down.
Soon enough, Professor McGonagall was calling for those with last names starting with P.
“Potter, Crystal!” The Professor called out, looking pleased with herself.
As Crystal walked up to the stool, she heard the entire hall start to whisper.
“Potter, did she say?”
“The Crystal Potter?”
“That’s the Girl-Who-Lived!”
“Five Galleons that she’ll be in Gryffindor.”
“No bet, dude, that’s a given.”
Seriously, what was with these people? Shaking her head slightly, she stood in front of the stool with her arms crossed. Professor McGonagall frowned when she didn’t sit down and put on the hat.
“Miss Potter, you must sit down on the stool and place the hat on,” she said, gesturing to the stool and hat.
“I’m not putting something this dirty on my head,” Crystal responded. “It could have wood ticks or head lice. Not to mention it’s filthy—when’s the last time it was cleaned? A decade ago?”
Her words sent the first-years who had just been sorted into a panic. They all stood up, and Crystal could hear Malfoy yell, “If I’ve contracted anything from that filthy hat, my father will hear about it!”
Several first-years had upper-years start checking their heads. The teachers tried to calm them down, but there was panic when people did find head lice in most of the first-years’ hair.
The professors were all shocked. Sure, they hadn’t cleaned the hat, but they never thought the students would get head lice.
They should have expected it, though. If every student ever attending wore that hat at least once, there was bound to be head lice on it if it wasn’t cleaned.