Oh, hello, Fanfiction! This is my first story on Fanfiction, which I didn't even write. That's right, this was written by my younger sister. So basically, the only one who's going to actually use this account is my little sister. *Facepalm*
DISCLAIMER: I don't know, maybe JK Rowling will die in five minutes and, for some reason, give the ownership of Harry Potter to me. But for now, JK Rowling is very much ALIVE and I... don't own the greatest book series in the world. Sad face :(
Oh, and by the way, my sister says she didn't mean to insult Hufflepuff in this chapter. This is just Nevilles mindset. She's a Puffie herself :)
Chapter 1: Neville Longbottom
He'd been at Hogwarts for about five minutes, and his whole year already thought he was a complete idiot. Not that he wasn't used to people snickering behind his back, but still, five minutes. They hadn't even been Sorted yet, for crying out loud! With his luck, he'd end up in Hufflepuff. Wouldn't his Gran be proud: a Hufflepuff amidst a family that'd been Gryffindors for as long as anyone could remember. Oh well, he'd rather be a Hufflepuff than a Squib.
He was desperately trying to tidy himself up after Mcgonagall's gaze so obviously lingered on him when she told them to do so. He could hear a girl- Hermione, was that her name? – wondering (out loud) if the 'sorting test' was difficult, and if they required to perform spells, and what kind of spells they had to do. Neville almost rolled his eyes. He already knew that they only had to try on a grubby hat (the information provided by his pure-blood family) and, besides, who would ask them to try spells when most of them hadn't even held a wand properly before? He would usually say that out loud, but kept silent, for fear of sounding stupid.
Mcgonagall led them in. Neville's feet, for some reason, were paralyzed (probably in fear) resulting in him having to shuffle along into the Great Hall, which obviously ended with him tripping over someone else's foot.
Great. Now the whole school would think he was an idiot.
He couldn't help looking up and wondering if there was a ceiling, despite his family telling him about how the Great Hall had a bewitched ceiling that was made to look like the sky outside. The Hermione girl voiced this a few seconds later. Neville wondered how she knew that. She was Muggleborn, wasn't she? It wasn't like she had an all-wizard family to tell her about Hogwarts. Neville had already begun to dislike her. Not because she was smart, because she was smarter than him. Everybody seemed to be smarter than him.
He diverted his attention away from the ceiling and looked at the Sorting Hat, who began to sing its song (again, which his family told him about) about the four Houses. He already knew most of the information the Hat provided. The hat scared him. How in the world could the Hat talk, or think, or even sing for that matter?
Mcgonagall, who already had a scroll, probably about to read out the names of the first years to come up and be sorted. They went in alphabetical order (or so he was told), so that meant Neville was somewhere in the middle (his surname was Longbottom) so Neville sighed in relief. A good many people went before him, so he could just copy what they did and make his way to the Hufflepuff table without making a complete fool of himself.
"Abbot, Hannah!"
She went into Hufflepuff. Oh, they would be in the same house. He could make friends with her, if she liked making friends with complete losers.
Neville couldn't hear most of the names being called, what with the blood pounding in his ears… why was there blood pounding in his ears? He told himself to calm down, but he wouldn't listen… to himself. Who doesn't listen to themselves? He thought. Neville then made a mental note to get himself checked out by a Healer next time he visited his parents in St. Mungos.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Neville braced himself for the shout of "Ravenclaw!" that was sure to come. For some odd reason, she went into Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had obviously made a mistake. Maybe it would make a mistake with him and put him into Gryffindor too, he thought. Maybe then his Gran would finally proud of him… he doubted it.
The prospect of his name being called made Neville go weak in the knees. He stopped again to calm himself down. Then somebody nudged him. He looked up to see who it was. Seamus Finnigan, another boy who he met on the train (who, incidentally, also thought he was a complete idiot) was pointing at the Sorting Hat. Why? Then he shoved him towards the stool where people being Sorted had to sit. Was he being sorted? Was he supposed to try it on? He had seen about eighteen people go about this process, but his mind was blank. Feeling rather daft, he tried the Hat on. It didn't cover his eyes, it rested on his abnormally large ears (which everybody made fun of) instead.
He wasn't scared now, he felt rather glum. All he could do now was sit and wait for the shout of "Hufflepuff!" Maybe Hufflepuff wasn't that bad. Maybe it was full of idiots like him…
He heard a voice in his head. "Feeling all right there, chap? You're shaking. Ah… you are going to be a hard one."
"Are you cunning? Not particularly, are you?" Neville mumbled in assent.
"You aren't clever, either. Very self-conscious, I see."
"I am not self-conscious!" He muttered
" In denial, as well. Where do I put you? Brave… we'll see. Loyal… ah, yes." Neville's heart sank. Hufflepuff for sure.
"However, you wouldn't make a very good Hufflepuff." Was he no good for any house, then? Neville was officially a wizard failure.
"Now, I don't know exactly where to put you, but don't make me regret my choice later."
Neville didn't hear what house the Hat said next, but it sounded like 'Gryffindor!'. No, he must've heard wrong. He made his way to the Hufflepuff table, but he realized that the hat was still on his head. He rushed back to the stool and put the Hat back on it. He could hear everybody laughing.
Mcgonagall muttered "Don't disgrace my House already, boy."
Mcgonagall was Head of Gryffindor. That must mean…
No, it couldn't be.
He was elated, but also a little sad. The Hat had made a second mistake. He couldn't belong in Gryffindor. He couldn't be brave. It must have been a mistake.
He didn't know that the Sorting Hat never makes mistakes.
That was my little sister's attempt at a good fanfic. No flamers, guys, she's 11 and she might just burst into tears if you say anything bad about it...