~ The Sorting Hat ~
The door opened. Before them stood a tall witch with black hair and an emerald green cloak.
She had a stern face, and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The first'- years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the gates wide open.
The entrance hall was so large that the whole Dursley house could have fit inside.
As at Gringotts, flickering torchlight illuminated the stone walls, the ceiling was so high that it could not be seen, and before them a massive marble staircase led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall through the stone-tiled hall.
From a hallway to the right, Harry could hear the hum of hundreds of voices - the other students must be there by now - but Professor McGonagall ushered the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall.
They crowded in, standing much closer together than they normally would.
They looked around excitedly.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "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. 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 honour. 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."
Her eyes rested briefly on Neville's cloak, which was pinned under his left ear, and on Ron's smeared nose.
Lucy helped Neville tie the cloak properly and then tucked a loose strand behind her house.
Harry nervously struggled to smooth his hair.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please remain calm while you wait."
She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.
"Which house will you be sorted into? What do you think?" asked Lucy.
"I don't know. I just hope the others are nice. My Dads– ähm– my parents were both in Gryffindor" murmured Ophelia.
Lucy looked at her encouragingly.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked.
"Some sort of test, l think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but l think he was joking," Ron replied.
Lucy and Harry looked at each other anxiously.
A test? In front of the whole school?
But they couldn't do magic yet- what on earth would they have to do?
When they got here, they hadn't expected anything like this.
Harry looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else was also looking horrified.
Hardly anyone said anything except Hermione Granger. She hastily whispered all the spells she had learned, wondering which one she would need.
Lucy tried to focus on something else.
Still, she was confident. If she could survive the Dursleys, she could survive in a school full of wizards.
Harry, on the other hand, had never been so nervous before.
Not even when he had to deliver a letter home to the Dursleys, saying he had, in some unknown way, dyed his teacher's wig blue.
He kept staring at the door.
At any moment Professor McGonagall could come back and lead him to his downfall.
Noticing his state of mind, his sister put her hand on his shoulder. It helped. Harry wasn't alone, he thought. He didn't have to go through it alone.
Then something happened that made him jump half a meter in the air in shock - several students behind Lucy started screaming.
"What the-?" The blackhaired-girl looked around in astonishment.
About twenty ghosts were just through the back one swept in the wall.
Pearly white and almost transparent, they glided about the room, talking and only occasionally glancing at the first years.
They seemed to be arguing.
One who looked like a fat monk said, "Forgive and forget, l 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 really even a ghost– I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
"New students," said the fat monk, smiling at everyone.
"About to be sorted, I suppose?" A few nodded silently.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," said the friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a stern voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned.
The ghosts floated through the opposite wall one after the other.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall instructed the first years, and follow me.
Lucy stood behind Ron, who had lined up behind Harry.
Then she turned to see Ophelia behind her and then they left the chamber, went back through the Entrance Hall and entered the Great Hall through double doors.
Lucy had never dreamed of such a strange and wonderful place.
Thousands and thousands of candles lit it, hovering over the four long tables at which the other students sat.
The tables were set with shimmering gold plates and goblets.
At the other end of the hall there was another long table where the teachers were sitting.
It was there that Professor McGonagall led the first years so that they ended up standing in a line in front of the other students with their backs to the teachers.
Hundreds of faces stared back at them, like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight.
The ghosts, scattered among the students, shone hazy silver.
To avoid staring eyes, Lucy turned her face up and saw a velvety black ceiling studded with stars.
She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History!"
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling at all and that the Great Hall didn't just open up to the sky.
Lucy quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged chair in front of the first years.
On the chair she placed a pointed hat such as wizards wear.
It was a worn hat, patched here and there, and rather dirty.
He wouldn't have come to Aunt Petunia's house, Lucy thought, and smiled at how Aunt Petunia would react if she took such a hat with her.
She noticed that everyone's eyes were now on the hat, and so he followed the gaze of the others.
For a few heartbeats there was total silence.
Then the pointed hat began to wobble.
A tear opened near the brim, as wide as a mouth, and the pointed hat began to sing:
Ob, 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 bat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top bats 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 bands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
When the hat finished its song, a storm of applause erupted in the hall.
He bowed to each of the four tables and then fell silent.
"So we've just got to try on the hat" Ron whispered to Harry.
"I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll"
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long scroll 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!"
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah got up and sat down with the Hufflepuffs.
Harry saw the fat fairs ghost wave happily at her.
"Lassiter, Louisa" also became a Hufflepuff.
"Barnes, Stella" was the first Slytherin that year.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat called again, and Susan shuffled over to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" also came to Ravenclaw, but
"Brown, Lavender," became a Gryffindor.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" eventually became a Slytherin.
Maybe Harry was just imagining it after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but they all looked rather mean.
He was beginning to feel decidedly nauseous.
He remembered how teams were formed at his old school.
He'd always been the last to be called out, not because he was bad at sports, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they might like him.
Lucy was sometimes picked earlier, but she always refused to go on a team until Harry was also picked.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Lucy noticed that for some the hat announced the house instantly and for others it took a while.
"Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy in line ahead of Harry, sat in the chair for almost a minute before the hat announced that he was a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione"
Hermione hurriedly approached the chair and eagerly grabbed the hat onto her head
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
Ron groaned. Neville Longbottom was called out, the boy who kept losing his toad.
On the way to the chair, he tripped and nearly fell.
With Neville, the hat took a long time to decide.
When he finally yelled GRYFFINDOR, Neville ran off with the hat on and he had to run back, roaring with laughter, handing it to "McDougal, Morag".
Malfoy strutted forward when his name was called, and his wish was granted immediately: the moment the hat touched his head, he uttered,
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted.
Malfoy walked over to his friends Crabbe and Goyle, obviously pleased with himself.
Now there were not many new ones left. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then the twin girls "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"...and then, finally-
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, fires suddenly erupted all over the hall, small hissing whisper fires.
"Potter?"
"The Harry Potter?"
It was quiet for a moment, and everyone looked intently at the boy, who now had his hat on his head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" yelled the hat.
He took off his hat and walked over to the Gryffindor table, knees shaking.
He was so relieved to have been called at all and not made it into Slytherin that he barely noticed he was getting the loudest applause ever.
Percy the Prefect stood and shook his hand enthusiastically while the Weasley twins shouted,
"We got Harry! We got Harry!"
Harry took a seat across from the ghost in the ruff he had seen earlier.
The ghost patted his arm, and Harry suddenly had the horrible feeling that he was about to dip his arm into a bucket of ice-cold water.
Then...
"Potter, Lucy!"
Lucy walked forward on shaky legs and sat in the chair.
The last thing Lucy saw before the hat fell over her eyes was the hall full of people craning their necks for a good look.
The next moment she saw only the black inside of the hat.
"What do we have here?" Lucy suddenly heard a squeaky voice. "Hmm… you're very much like your father. I know exactly where I'm sorting you."
"SLYTHERIN!"
The hat was pulled off her head. All eyes were on her and it was silent. The girl looked at Professor McGonagall.
The teacher gave her a small smile.
Lucy got up and sat down at the Slytherin table, away from Malfoy and next to Stella Barnes.
The young witch looked at the Gryffindor table, her brother looked her way and waved at her. Lucy waved back.
The blackhaired girl had a good view of the teachers' high table.
At one end, closest to Harry, sat Hagrid, who met her gaze and gave a thumbs-up.
Lucy grinned back.
And there, in the centre of the High Table, on a large golden chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.
Harry recognized him from the card he'd pulled out of the chocolate frog on the train.
Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts.
"Lupin, Ophelia." – "Ravenclaw!"
Lucy also recognized Professor Quirrell, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron.
He looked very peculiar in his large purple turban.
Now there were only three students left whose house had to be determined.
"Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw.
Then it was Ron's turn.
His face was pale green now.
Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat called "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry applauded loudly, along with the others at the table, as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him. Lucy applauded too, being the only one at the Slytherin table.
"Well done Ron, excellent," Percy Weasley said pompously over Harry's head as "Zabini, Blaise" became a Slytherin.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment and carried away the Sorting Hat. Lucy looked down at his empty gold plate.
Only now was she suddenly overcoming with hunger.
It seemed that she ate the cauldron cake ages ago.
Albus Dumbledore had stood up.
With a beaming smile, he looked around at the students, arms spread wide, as if nothing could bring him more joy than to see them all gathered here.
"Welcome!" he called.
"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!"
He sat down again.
Everyone clapped and cheered. Lucy was rather confused.
Glancing at her brother, she realized he had the same thought.
"Is he– is he a bit mad?"
Harry asked Percy uncertainty.
"Mad?" Percy said light-heartedly. "He's a genius! The best wizard in the world! But he's a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
The twins gaped in amazement. The platters on the table in front of them were piled high with food.
They had never seen so many things they liked on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, ham, steaks, jacket potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for whatever strange reason, peppermints.
The Dursleys hadn't exactly starved Lucy and Harry, but he had never been allowed to eat as much as he wanted.
Dudley always took what he really liked from Harry, even when it made Dudley sick.
Lucy piled a lot of things onto her plate.
She started eating and it was delicious.
"That does look good," the ruffed ghost said sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.
"Can't you–?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "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 burst out. "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, slightly piqued, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan cut him off.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if this little conversation was not going his way at all.
"Like this," he said, slightly annoyed.
He grabbed his left ear and tugged.
His whole head tilted from the neck as if hanging on a hinge and fell onto his shoulder.
Apparently, someone tried to behead him but didn't get the job done right.
Enjoying the puzzled faces around him, Nearly Headless Nick threw his head back on his neck, coughed and said: "'So– new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have won the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable– he's the Slytherin ghost."
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank, staring eyes, a gaunt face, and a cloak splattered with silvery blood.
He sat in the seat next to Malfoy, who Harry noted with amusement was not exactly happy with the seating arrangement.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked, genuinely interested.
"I've never asked," Nearly Headless Nick said tactfully.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the leftovers vanished from the plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as ever.
A moment later, dessert appeared: whole blocks of ice cream in every imaginable flavor, apple pie, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam-filled donuts, biscuits, strawberries, jellies, rice pudding.
While Lucy ate a piece of apple pie, the conversation turned to their families.
"Tell me, who is actually older, you or Harry?", Stella Barnes wanted to know.
Lucy looked at the other witch in surprise.
"I don't know. Nobody told us. We only have the Durleys and they certainly don't know either."
"I'm half and half," Seamus said at the Gryffindor Table. "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," said Neville, "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 l 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."
Before they could continue the conversation, they were interrupted by Harry, who felt pain in his forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry slapped his forehead with his hand.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"N- nothing." The pain had subsided as quickly as it had come.
Harder to shake was the feeling the teacher's gaze had triggered in Harry, a feeling Harry didn't like at all.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
Professor Quirrell was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
"Why does Professor Snape want Quirrell's job?" Lucy asked one of the older students, who had worded the story slightly differently.
The boy shrugged and just kept eating.
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape stopped looking over.
Eventually dessert disappeared and Professor Dumbledore rose once more.
"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 over to 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."
Lucy almost laughed, but then she saw the serious faces of her classmates.
"He's not serious?" Harry whispered to Percy.
"He must," Percy said, looking over at Dumbledore with a frown
"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!" exclaimed Dumbledore.
Lucy noticed that the other teachers' smiles had grown quite stiff.
Dumbledore waved his wand briefly as if to shoo a fly from the tip, and a long golden thread floated from it, soared high above the tables and, coiling like a snake, took the form of words.
"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the whole school sang enthusiastically:
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our beads 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.
Hardly ever two of them stopped at the same time. In the end, only the Weasley twins could be heard singing to the tune of a slow funeral march.
Dumbledore conducted their last verses with his wand, and when they finished, he clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes.
"A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The students stood and Lucy squeezed past the others to get to Harry. The twins exchanged a few words and Lucy was glad that Harry didn't care that she was in Slytherin.
~~
The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the chattering crowd, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.
Harry noticed the portraits whispering along the corridors and pointing at her and the other first-years as they passed.
Percy twice led them through archways hidden behind sliding panelling and tapestry.
Harry was still processing all the new information when they suddenly stopped.
A bundle of walking sticks floated in the air in front of them, and as Percy took a step toward them, they began throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist."
He raised his voice:
"Peeves - show yourself."
A loud, rough noise, like air being deflated from a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a "pop" and a small man with evil dark eyes and a wide-open mouth appeared.
Crossing his legs, he hovered in the air in front of them and grabbed the walking sticks.
"Oooo0000h!" he said with a spiteful giggle.
"Ickle firsties! What fun!"
Suddenly he rushed towards them. They ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and disappeared, not without dropping the sticks on Neville's head.
They heard him pull away, rattling every piece of armor he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy said 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 aisle hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she asked.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy.
The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.
They squeezed through - Neville needed a little help - and found themselves in a cozy, circular room full of plush armchairs: the Gryffindor common room.