BOOK I – "The Witch"
Chapter 3 – The Sorting Hat
It had been a long day, and you could sense it in the restlessness of the crowd. Hundreds of students, children and teenagers, had all been filed into a large hall. I suppose this is the Great Hall. There were four long tables running the length of the massive room, and all the second year students and older were already seated, catching up with old friends and creating a general racket. Tom looked around the room, I take it they're all separated by house. The ceiling was open, with a blue sky and puffy clouds hung above the gathering. But... it was dark...
"Enchanted, look!" LeStrange said, noting Tom's expression as he pointed up to the sky. "It's made to look like the daytime sky!"
At the far end of the room, beyond the enormous wooden entryway and past the four tables with banners floating above them, as if hanging by another invisible ceiling, was a long table running the width of the room. There were seated the professors, and among them It's that man again, Dumbledore. He spotted the professor, who must have felt Tom staring, as his gaze slowly turned directly toward Tom and their eyes met.
Tom's ears began to ring, and the hum of the crowd had vanished. There was now nothing in the hall aside from the cold blue eyes peering into what felt like his very soul. As he was trying to break away from what felt like an entrapment of his whole self, like his mind was being penetrated by the the professor's stolen gaze, a much older man from the center of the table had risen to the large center podium.
"Good evening, students, new and familiar!" With a clap of his hands, the enchantment on the ceiling changed from day to dusk. "It is the time of year once again, that we all most look forward to, myself as Headmaster included!" A cheer erupted from the students and the professors applauded. "Before we begin, remember to reacquaint yourselves with your House Ghosts, and this year's Prefects and Head Boys and Girls. And now, we have a very large First Year Class this fall of nineteen hundred thirty eight, and we must let the sorting begin!" The cheers and applause were back, louder than before, as the Headmaster made his way back to his seat.
"Thank you, Headmaster Dippet!" announced a very prim-looking witch, and all applause ceased immediately. "As most of you know, I am Galatea Merrythought, Head Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. I will now call First Year students by order of alphabet." She strode over to a large wooden chair in the center front of the room, carrying a scroll of parchment. Another teacher, a wizard, was standing there with a very large and battered brown hat. It was tall and pointed, with a sash hanging down from either side.
Tom's ears and interest perked up.
"Tom," Rosier whispered, "good luck up there!"
"Thank you," but I don't think luck's anything to do with it, does it?
One by one, names were called, scared looking children walked up to the chair and sat, and the hat was placed on their heads. The hat seemed to awaken when placed on each head, and then the folds would open up into a mouth and speak!
"Arietta Montgomery." A dark-haired girl.
"I think, then... HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Alain Dempsey." A small boy with spectacles.
"Oh, I'd say, most certainly... RAVENCLAW!"
My isn't this tedious. As each eleven year old was sorted and hopped off the chair, their chosen house cheered and welcomed their newest housemate. As each student sat at their new table, hands were shaken and backs were clapped.
"Kerrick Lewis." A tall, ruddy-faced boy.
"You are a GRYFFINDOR through and through!"
"Kristoven Avery." A dark-haired boy.
"SLYTHERIN, without a doubt."
"Leonora Morina." It's... it's her!
"Well, now." The hat seemed to have to pause to think. "I think, despite it all..." I wonder why it's uncertain. "SLYTHERIN."
Several more boys and girls were sorted, a seemingly even number into each house. Tom's new friends, as they call themselves, were sorted into Slytherin as expected. It now came near to his turn. For an unknown reason, he started to feel nervous, and his eyes darted back up to Professor Dumbledore, who had leaned forward and was staring right back at him. His ears started to ring again, and the room went inaudible, as he completely ignored the sorting of Randalthus Mulciber and Tannis Floxan. The ringing grew louder, almost unbearable, until
"Tom Riddle Jr." The Ringing stopped. What am I supposed to think about? He strode toward the chair. I have no idea what it even looks for. He sat down. How am I supposed to... the hat was being raised toward his head. How can I...
"SYTHERIN!" the hat called out, before it was even on his head. The green and silver Slytherin table started to cheer, and Tom started to rise, but the sash ends hanging from the hat stopped him by the shoulders. What is this! The hat sat him back down and had thrust itself fully upon his head. It did not speak aloud, but Tom could hear it in his mind, saying "Though quite a shame, as you'd make the most capable Ravenclaw if I weren't so certain."
"I am a Slytherin," Tom said softly to the room and no one all at once.
"True enough, and through and through... and more perhaps than any I knew," replied the hat, aloud for all to hear.
As Tom stood and headed toward the Slytherin table, he noticed motion behind him. He turned slightly to see that Professor Dumbledore had gotten up, and had left the table. A capable Ravenclaw. I wonder what it meant, and why. He glanced around the room, while shaking hands with his new housemates, to see that Professor Dumbledore had left the Great Hall entirely. How interesting, for a professor to leave during a ceremony.
The sorting had ended, and the Headmaster had begun the Start-of-Term-Feast with a wave of his arms. All of the tables had blossomed with dishes of such variety, Tom was almost overwhelmed. I wonder if they cook, or just use magic to create this huge of a meal. By this point, the students had repositioned themselves to be nearer to those they knew, and were enjoying the company of their houses. Tom's new friends Rosier and LeStrange were on either side of him, calling out the names of all manner of wizarding dishes that seemed so foreign.
"Well, now I know your name, Tom."
He looked up from his leg of unknown beast to see that the sixth year across from him had switched places with the blond girl from the hat shop. Leonora. Leonora Morina.
"And I yours, Morina." He smiled a charming smile and had a drink of some pumpkin juice.
"Oh please, now, call me Nora, won't you?"
"Alright, Nora then." He said, and noticed Rosier on his left had begun paying attention.
"Nora! That's lovely, innit LeStrange?" he interrupted.
"I wasn't talking to you, was I?" she scoffed.
"Come on now, you can't be partial to this bloke, can you?"
"Who says I'm partial to anyone, that's not what I'm here for anyway, is it?"
Rosier laughed and elbowed Tom in the ribs. "Looks like the hat made a mistake, we've got a bookworm here, go on then! Over to Ravenclaw!" She turned her head away, obviously upset, and the others nearby chuckled at the joke.
"Well, then, shouldn't an oaf like you be in Gryffindor?" she snapped back and left the table.
What is wrong with this guy, he is so mean to her! And she's not even a muggle! "You're quite an ass, aren't you?" he shot at Rosier, as he slowly rose from the table. "You've upset that girl every time you've come across her."
"Aw comon now, it's all in fun! She'll figure it out!"
"Save your wit for those who deserve it, you know there are plenty who do." With that he left his new friends yes, friends, I suppose, in silence to think about what he meant. He followed Nora out of the Great Hall, and could tell that she was crying. What an ass he is. Oh, here she is.. "Nora..."
"No, don't bother." Her face went from defeat to anger in an instant. "You know, it's bad enough that he says these things, but you," she pointed at him, "you and all the rest just sit there and let him. You leave me to have to defend myself in a room of witches and wizards who should know better, and you just laugh."
"Nora, I didn't-"
"It doesn't matter if you laughed, you let it happen. You know, when I saw you by yourself in Diagon Alley, I thought you'd be just like me. I know it's dumb of me, but I thought that just maybe you were alone so much because maybe you were an orphan too, just like me, and had no family to stand behind you, and that you'd understand what it's like, and to be whisked away from my new family only a year after being adopted, and listen to me, you don't even need to know this, I just..." she paused and calmed herself down. "And I just thought that maybe we could even be friends, but you know, boys and girls, and anyway," Tom stepped closer. An orphan... just like... "here you are, just like the rest of them."
But I'm nothing like the rest.
Tom was completely dumbfounded, and didn't know how to respond. Nora made an exasperated sound at the ceiling, and turned toward the dungeons. She left Tom standing there, staring helplessly as she stormed off. What just happened?
"You know..." appeared behind him a soft voice that should have startled him but didn't. Tom recognized it immediately as Professor Dumbledore's. "You're already getting off on the wrong foot, it seems. I worry, Tom, I-"
"You needn't. I'll be just fine." Tom interrupted, without looking back at the professor.
"You can never be completely fine without friends, Tom."
"I can, sir."
And I will be better than fine.
