Professor Flitwick, deputy headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rolled out the scroll of names with all the pomp the Sorting Ceremony deserved.
'Anderson, Mark', he squeaked, and a tall, dark boy with big ears and green eyes perched upon the stool. "Hufflepuff", the hat announced
A few names Rose didn't recognise were sorted into houses, though one went to Gryffindor. This just made her all the more nervous, as both her mother and father had been Gryffindors, and she rather felt that it was expected of her.
'Chang-Lee, Isabel', was a name Rose was sure she knew. As Isabel came forward, and was sorted into Ravenclaw, Rose made a mental note to ask her about her parents if they ever met.
'Dennison, Ben, became a Hufflepuff, and Rose zoned out again for a short while, but at 'Malfoy, Scorpius', she was pulled swiftly back to reality. This was the boy her father had mentioned at the station. Perhaps he recognised her too, because she couldn't help notice that he was making very direct eye contact. "Slytherin" cried the hat, and he ran off, Rose lost sight of him.
'Neilson, Angela', became a Ravenclaw, as did 'Pearce, Ivy', but 'Robinson, Geoffrey', was a Gryffindor.
Finally, 'Weasley, Rose'. She crept up to the stool, crossed her fingers, and closed her eyes as Flitwick levitated the hat onto her head.
The hat deliberated for some time. 'Hmm... Yes... Hmm. Much like your mother... Hmm... "Ravenclaw!"' cried the hat. She could see cousin Fred and Albus, family friend, cheering wildly, but Lorcan and Lysander on the Ravenclaw table were cheering all the louder. Sitting down next to Lysander, the shock began to sink in. What would mother say? She would send an owl that very evening. Opposite her sat Isabel, an Asian girl with a dark bob, and remembering her earlier thoughts, she mentioned her parents to the girl.
'Oh, of course.' she giggled. 'Our parents were school friends here. Aren't your mum and dad pretty famous?'
We talked for a short while, before Lorcan and Lysander butted in. 'Welcome to Ravenclaw house!' said Lysander, ever the more confident of the two twins. They both had long, blonde hair which was kept back in a ponytail, and glimmering pale blue eyes. 'Hang on!' exclaimed Lorcan 'Best introduce ourselves first!'
'So sorry, where did my manners go. Of course, Rose here, we know you, but, Isabel, isn't it?' She nodded shyly 'Well, I'm Lysander Xenophilius Scamander, at your service, and this is my brother-' 'Lorcan Newt Scamander, I'm quite capable of introducing myself thank you.' he announced in mock fury. 'Anyway,' continued Lysander 'we're in fourth year, and we, like you, are Ravenclaws.' 'The intelligent eccentrics!' interjected Lorcan. Isabel giggled again.
The tinkling I spoon in goblet was heard, and the witch in the centre of the teachers' table stood up. She wore lilac robes and a tall, white hat. 'Do excuse me for delaying what promises to be a delicious meal' she chuckled 'but I simply wanted to welcome you to, or back to, the school, and to encourage you to welcome our new students!' Her voice was friendly, but with an edge of authority, and a slight Irish twinkle.
Then, the feast appeared. Golden platters, piled high with buttered peas, gravy jugs of all shapes and sizes, roast fowl of every description and crisp, sun-coloured roast potatoes. Rose tucked in, greedily. Her mother was always working, and even with the help of magical pots and pans (inherited from Granny Molly), her father was a basic cook, and they never had food like this at home. As she sliced off a fine slither of the honey-glazed ham, Lorcan began introducing her to each of the teachers. 'You see that witch there? In the lavender hat?' 'Mm-hmbbll' said Rose, mouth already filled with ham and potatoes. The woman Lorcan had indicated was tall and gaunt, but friendly looking, with green eyes which smiled just as fully as her mouth. 'Professor Lavendon, headmistress. Best since Dumbledore, they say, been here nearly five years. Next to her', he pointed at the next teacher along 'Professor Rellagon, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Strict, Slytherin, not too fond of first years, I'd warn you, but stay on the right side of him and he's one of the best in the school. On her other side, Flitwick. Charms. Been here donkey's years, along with Professor Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures. They say he's half giant. Next... Professor Longbottom, Herbology, you won't have him til second year. Professor Finchley, Quidditch, great teacher, really she is. Professor Montgomery, Potions, very intelligent, not too sociable.'. He paused a minute, and had a swig of pumpkin juice. 'Who's that one, on the end, the ghost?' Asked Rose. Lorcan laughed, and a spat out a splash of pumpkin juice, 'Binns. Been here since before he died, died in the staff room of this very school, apparently, but just got up, and carried on teaching, leaving his body in an armchair.'
Once everyone had eaten well, and Rose had both Lorcan and Lysander's eloquent opinions and anecdotes about every one of her teachers, the food disappeared from the golden platters, and was rapidly replaced by dessert. Piles of eclairs, doughnuts and fresh fruit, platters of jelly, huge great tarts and pies, ice cream in every flavour. Rose, though nearly full, managed to squeeze in a slice of treacle tart, and a good portion of strawberries, with vanilla ice cream.
'Now', Professor Lavendon announced 'we shall sing the school song, there really isn't a tune, but a funeral march is perhaps best avoided'. Here she seemed to wink at cousin Fred. She chuckled, and with a flick of her wand, she conjure a banner above her head, and, in an old-fashioned typewriter font, the following words flashed across it:
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.