The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Levina got the impression that this was not someone she wanted to get on the bad side of.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have two of Anna's apartments in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Levina could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right—the rest of the school must already be here—but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"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 rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. 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 lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Levina made a feeble attempt to fix her hair, which was matted and tangled from the train ride.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber, leaving them all in a collectively apprehensive silence.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Levina winced. A test? Pain? She hadn't studied for this—in fact, she knew next to nothing about magic! What would she be expected to do? A verbal test? Something with her wand? And why would it hurt? She glanced sidelong at Harry, who shot her a terrified look. At least she wasn't the only one scared out of her wits, then.
No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Levina tried hard not to listen to her, a feeling of dread settling in as she mulled over every conceivable way this could go wrong.
Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air—several people behind her screamed.
"What the—?"
Levina gasped loudly. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I 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 Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling like her legs had liquefied, Levina forced herself to line up behind Ron, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Levina had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Levina glanced upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.
She heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
Levina took a sudden fascination in her shoes as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
What were they supposed to do with a dirty old hat? Wear it for a week? Was it a hazing kind of thing? Were they supposed to know what it was?
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth—and the hat began to sing:
"Oh, 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 hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats 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 Hufflepuffis 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 hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Levina. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Levina's shoulders relaxed, and while she was relieved she had no test to complete, the prospect of sitting there in front of the entire school made her stomach churn uneasily. She prayed she wouldn't throw up, but the urge was building quickly.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll 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!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Levina saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Levina could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Levina was trying to not have a bias against the house, but the lot of them did look rather unpleasant—and she had a keen feeling she knew where the Malfoy boy and his goons would end up…
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Levina nodded to herself internally.
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, after a few more— "Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The whisperings made Levina's apprehension bubble up, and she was certain she was going to lose the contents of her stomach. Was this what was going to happen when she got up there? She felt for Harry, who also looked quite ill.
Harry sat stiffly on the stool, gripping the edges of it, and several minutes passed in tense silence. Someone could drop a pin and it would be thunderous, certainly.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry hurried over to the Gryffindor table, looking relieved, and she could hear the twins shouting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
There were only four people left, including Levina, and, as she expected, she was the next one called to the stage.
"Snowpetal, Levina!"
Levina froze up, her body becoming rigid, and she had to force her legs to move forward. The whispers started up again, spreading like wildfire, and though Levina tried to block them out, her keen hearing caught nearly every word. She swallowed hard and stumbled on her way up to get the hat. A few people laughed. She hurriedly raced over and placed the hat on her head, but it slipped down over her eyes so she couldn't see anyone (which was frankly a bit of a relief).
"Hmm, difficult, difficult. Another SnowPetal, eh?" The Hat's voice echoed in her mind. Levina nodded stiffly, even though no one could hear her. "Hmm...there's something dark, sinister in you that I see...Nearly uncontrollable. Unique indeed, but…nevertheless dark…" Instantly, Levina thought of Slytherin, and she imagined being stuck in the same house as the awful boys from the train, away from her new friends.
No, please! Levina's mind pleaded back. I don't want to be a Slytherin!
The Hat seemed to chuckle in her head. "I never said I'd put you in Slytherin, although it would be a good place for you, I'm sure, considering your condition."
"Condition?" Levina ventured out loud, and several people gave her an odd look. "What do you mean by—?"
"Got to be...GRYFFINDOR!"
Cheers erupted, and Levina's question melted instantly. She was a Gryffindor! Nothing else mattered anymore, and as a flutter of joy burst in her chest, she pried off the hat and practically sprinted over to the Gryffindor table, where several people she didn't know clapped her on the back and congratulated her.
"We got Potter and Snowpetal!" the twins cheered, thrusting their fists triumphantly in the air. One of the elder Weasley's shook her hand, and Harry moved aside to let her sit with them, grinning from ear to ear.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Levina at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Levina chewed her lip, her empathy for him going strong, and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Levina clapped and patted Ron on the shoulder as he collapsed into the chair next to Harry.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said the elder Weasley pompously as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.
"Thanks, Percy," Ron mumbled.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away, and Levina relaxed in her seat, her worries vaporizing. It was only then that she noticed her empty golden plate on the table before her, and her stomach gave a fittingly noisy rumble. The candies and sandwiches seemed like an eternity ago.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome," he said. "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!
"Thank you!"
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered, and Levina laughed, though she wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not.
"Is he –a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.
"Mad?" Levina heard Percy say airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
Levina gave a start of surprise. The dishes in front of them were now piled with food. She had never seen so many things she wanted to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. Levina's mouth practically watered.
Anna always kept Levina well-fed, but her meals were always made for her and portioned out, for the sake of money. Now, with no one rationing out her food, Levina piled her plate high and deep with everything she could reach. She ate ravenously, particularly favoring the meats, only pausing to drain her goblet of water.
"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.
"Can't you—?" Harry began.
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost, and Levina immediately pitied him. "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!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" the ghost began stiffly, but the sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."
Levina looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Levina was pleased to see, didn't look too happy about the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding—
Levina was already stuffed with dinner, having not even considered there might be dessert, but she helped herself to as much as she could fit on her plate. As she chewed on the end of a chocolate éclair, the talk of the table turned to their families.
"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom 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?" said Ron.
"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 I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, 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."
On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult—"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing—").
Levina rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Harry, her eyes lidded as sleep tempted her. But before she could say anything, Harry suddenly winced and clapped a hand to his head, yelping, "Ouch!"
"Are you all right, Harry?" Levina prompted, peering at his face.
"I-I'm fine…Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he added, as though nothing had happened.
Levina craned her neck up at one of the teachers, who had greasy black hair and matching dark eyes. He had a hook nose and he wore a mean glare.
"I dunno," she replied. "But he looks like he could use some shampoo..."
Harry laughed weakly, still holding his head.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" Percy interrupted, having overheard their conversation. "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."
Levina glanced back at the teacher, but immediately looked away; he'd met her gaze for only a moment, but in that second, he'd returned it with some sort of curious look that she couldn't quite place. He almost looked as though he knew her somehow.
When she gained confidence and looked back again, he was chatting with Professor Quirrell.
"I dunno about the Snape guy, but I'm liking the other guy's turban," she giggled, finishing up her treacle tart. "It's very stylish."
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on 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 in the direction of 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 the 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."
Levina and Harry laughed at that, but few others did, and her smile fell away.
"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.
"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "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!" cried Dumbledore. Levina noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:
"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."
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Levina moved sluggishly, full of food and more than ready to crash for the night. She was so exhausted that she almost didn't even notice that the portraits on the wall moved and spoke, and mentioned her name in their whispered conversations. Twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Levina was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves—show yourself"
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered. Levina stifled the urge to giggle.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, 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 corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it—Neville needed a leg up—and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase—they were obviously in one of the towers—they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
Hermione was attempting to talk one of the other girl's ears off, but Levina was too tired to pay her much mind. Lilypad awaited her on her pillow, curled up in a ball and already fast asleep. She gently moved the cat aside and climbed in, tugging the warm covers up to her shoulders. It usually took her some time to fall asleep back home, but practically the moment her head hit the pillow, she was out.