"Oh, dear, sweet Merlin, I'm so excited! I hope to be in Gryffindor, what about you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off: "Oh, well, I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad either. Anything but Hufflepuff, really. Have you heard what they say?"

I gave a noncommittal grunt. Yes, I had heard many things about Hufflepuff, none of which very nice. Of course, they were nothing to the rumours according to which most Slytherins were evil, but I couldn't help but notice that when I asked someone to list the four Houses of Hogwarts, Hufflepuff tended to come last. Their values didn't sound half as bad: patience, hard work and loyalty, all of which I could easily identify with – and yet, most of the other first years I had met on the train seemed to think that being Sorted there was some sort of dishonour, that once the crest on your uniform became black and yellow you would be easily forgotten, barely worth noticing. Personally, I didn't see anything wrong with being a Hufflepuff: my Dad had been one back in his school days, and a part of me wished to follow in his footsteps. Not because it was expected of me, of course – just because some of his Hufflepuff values had rubbed off on me. "If you really want something, Ellie, it's no use sitting around and waiting for it to come to you. You just have to roll up your sleeves and give it a hundred percent, and you will get it, no matter what it takes". Had I been given a Knut for every time he said that to me, I could have bought up Hogwarts Castle.

But now horrible doubts were beginning to nag at me. Yes, I was going to give it my all and be the best student I could, just like Dad said – but did I really want to be forgotten? To disappear in the crowd, a face out of many that no one would ever remember? Did I want my efforts to go unnoticed just because I wore the wrong colours? I tried to block out the insufferable little chatterbox beside me, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore her endless badmouthing.

"... you know what? If I get Sorted into Hufflepuff, I think I'm going to send my parents an owl and ask them to take me away from here. I mean, Hogwarts is great, but they're both good enough to teach me, and I'd much rather be homeschooled than be considered worthless."

That was the last straw. "Will you stop it already? I hope you do become a Hufflepuff, so you'll leave and I'll never see your face again!" I wasn't usually that mean to others, especially to people I barely knew, and I instantly felt bad for what I had said, but it took me very little effort to convince myself that she deserved it, though I was pretty sure I had a new enemy at Hogwarts. What a nice start.

The doors of the Great Hall opened and our little argument got lost in the collective 'ooh's and 'aah's, which naturally I joined: the enchanted ceiling my Dad had told me about gave me, for just a split second, the impression that there was no ceiling at all. The thousands of floating candles seemed to wish they could soar even higher and join the stars in the sky – if they could get past the thick layer of clouds, of course. The weather was terrible and we all looked like drowned rats, though the one in the worst predicament of all was that mousy-haired boy – Dennis Creevey, wasn't it? – who had literally fallen into the icy waters halfway through our crossing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him looking for someone at the Gryffindor table, mouthing 'I fell in the lake!' with both of his thumbs up and an overly excited look on his face. The boy whose attention he was trying to catch looked a lot like him, though he was obviously older. Perhaps they were related.

But there was no more time for my musings. The stern-looking teacher who had escorted us into the hall placed a stool in front of us. The Sorting Hat sat on it in all its... well, maybe splendour was a bit of an exaggeration, patched and frayed as it was.

We all held our breath, waiting, and moments later a long tear near its brim opened like a mouth and began to sing. I expected this, but there was quite a lot of gasping among my new schoolmates – Muggleborns, probably. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't take them too long to get used to magic, because they hadn't seen the half of it.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan,

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favourites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

I had to admit the 'I'll have a look inside your mind' part was scary – it felt like an invasion of my privacy. At least, I was glad that nowhere in the song it said Hufflepuffs were the worst of the lot.

And now to wait... for the first time in my life, I was glad my surname began with a B: it meant it would be over soon.

"Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy came forward, shaking from head to toe, and sat on the stool. The entire school was watching him – Merlin, I was bound to die of embarrassment when my turn came.

Luckily for him, it didn't take long for the Hat to shout out: "RAVENCLAW!". Stewart took it off and joined his new House mates with pure relief on his face.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!" I had no idea who Malcolm Baddock was – to me, he was just a name attached to a face I had barely looked at once. There was nothing in his looks or manners that instantly labelled him as evil, though. How much truth was there in those rumours after all?

"Branstone, Eleanor!" My stomach gave a nasty lurch. I felt myself walking forward, but I was doing it automatically, with no control on those things that had been my legs until a second before and that felt very much like jelly now.

I sat, blessing the small, hard stool internally – at least the fall wouldn't be too bad if I fainted. Everything went dark as the Hat, which was far too big for me, was slipped on my head. And then I heard it: it was the same voice that had sung the song, but it was inside my mind. I considered complimenting it for the pretty rhymes, but that was inappropriate, wasn't it? For a terrible instant, I thought everyone else was listening in – the voice was so clear to me that it seemed impossible for them not to hear it too. But then I remembered that I had heard nothing of what the Hat had said to Stewart and Malcolm, apart from the final verdict, and relaxed a little.

Hmm... a girl of solid values, now, aren't you?

I have my Dad to thank for that. And... I don't want to disappoint him. But what I really want is to be where I can be happy, and none of the Houses seem to be able to give me that. Those virtues are nice and all, but they all sound so... so big. I don't know if I'm up to any of them.

I see more talent than you think in you, and what you lack in natural qualities, you make up for in hard work and commitment. Stubborn, but not to the point of being unreasonable... a strong sense of what's right and what's wrong... I know exactly where to place you, and you'll find that there's more to it than people's undeserved indifference.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

That was it. I looked back at the girl who had spent the whole boat ride telling me nasty things about my House mates and decided I didn't care. A new pride had replaced my doubts and fears. The Sorting Hat knew who I was better than even I did, and had described me perfectly. I left it on the stool for the next student and walked to the black and yellow table with a new spring in my step.

Soon, I didn't know which way to turn, overwhelmed as I was with hugs, handshakes and introductions. Remembering all those names would be a nightmare, I was sure of it. A handsome boy several years older than me, whose name, as far as I could gather, was Cedric Diggory, complimented me on being the first Hufflepuff of the year and started a heartfelt speech about how fair and loyal we were, making me feel weak and tiny under the staggering weight of all those great qualities I was supposed to have.

"Let the girl breathe, Ced!" another male voice said. I looked to my left in gratitude and saw that the speaker had been a curly-haired boy a couple of seats away from me. "There will be plenty of time for rhetoric later. I'm Justin, by the way. Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Eleanor Branstone, but I mostly go by Ellie," I answered automatically. "Nice to meet you."

"Ellie it is, then," said the boy sitting in front of Justin, who looked about the same age as him. "Wayne Hopkins, also known as your guide to the fun side of Hufflepuff. All that talk about patience and hard work is great, and you'll find that it's very true, but it doesn't mean we work twenty-four hours a day and never take a break. In fact, no matter how much the Gryffindors boast about their celebrations, I believe you've been Sorted in the best House of all when it comes to fun."

"You shouldn't say it like that, Wayne," Justin scolded him jokingly, "otherwise you'll corrupt her and she'll be the first lazy Hufflepuff in the history of Hogwarts!"

"You know I'm right, Justin. Whose Common Room is closest to the kitchens?"

"Ours, of course."

"And what does that mean?"

Justin was evidently looking for a way to put it that would still make Hufflepuffs sound virtuous, but I wasn't stupid, and when Wayne cut him off I could practically foresee every word: "That we have the easiest time nicking food for our parties!"

"If and when we have a reason to celebrate, that is," I sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Wayne, his mood suddenly dampened.

"Let me guess: you've been fed the usual stories about us being the ones who never get any of the fame and glory, haven't you?"

"You guessed right."

"Well, don't let them get you down. We have our own reasons to celebrate. You'll see."

"What reasons?"

"Well, for example, a pretty good reason right now is that we've just made a new friend, and that always calls for a celebration."

"Do you mean me?"

"No, the giant squid... of course I mean you!"

A new kind of warmth welled up somewhere in my chest. The Hat was right, I was going to be happy in Hufflepuff. I made a mental note to write to Dad to tell him the good news as soon as I could get my hands on a scrap of parchment.

Dear Dad,

Hogwarts is every bit as beautiful as you said it was. I'm writing from the girls' dormitories right now, and guess what? I'm a Hufflepuff, just like you! Go and tell Mum for me, please – though I'm pretty sure she already knows, from wherever she is right now. Everyone's really nice and I can't wait for the lessons to begin, especially Herbology, as I've met the teacher and she seems great. I'm enclosing a picture of myself with the Hufflepuff crest on my uniform so you can see I'm not lying. I can't very well have my nose grow, like that boy from that Muggle story you always used to tell me! Oh, by the way, those crazy older boys in the background are my new friends, Wayne and Justin. I thought I'd hate being the youngest, but they accepted me right away, even though they're both in fourth year. They know a lot about how things work at Hogwarts and have already promised to help me find my way around. This place is huge, I'm sure it'll take me weeks to learn how to go to classes without getting lost in the process...

I suppose I was lucky to start attending this year: everyone's talking about nothing but the Triwizard Tournament, and I've been told that the castle looks even better than it usually does because of the guests who should be here by next month. There are rumours that one of our Prefects, Cedric Diggory, is going to try and enter. I don't know him that well, but I'm already rooting for him, even if what the Headmaster said about the 'death toll' is terrifying. Cedric doesn't seem to mind, though – we can tell he's afraid, but he's not going to back out. Who's to say we can't be just as brave as Gryffindors? I can definitely get used to being a Hufflepuff!

Love,

Ellie

I did get used to it – in fact, I could safely say I was already used to it when I woke up in my canary yellow four-poster bed the next morning. I was excited and more than a little scared, but most of all, I felt welcome.

And as Justin had said, we did have our own reasons to celebrate. Suffice it to say that none of us slept on Halloween night, because we were too busy repeating "Good luck, Cedric!" until our voices were hoarse.

Welcome to Hufflepuff, Ellie. It's where you belong.

Author's Notes: there is no actual proof that the obscure girl named Eleanor Branstone lost her mother before going to Hogwarts, but I felt it was fitting.