Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own the Harry Potter books.
Please read and review!
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The hat shouted it out loud, and I was so startled, I practically fell off the stool on which I was nervously perched. Besides Slytherin, Gryffindor was the one I least expected to be put in. Just goes to show how wrong I was!
I practically tumbled off the platform (which received a few polite chuckles from the kids in the front rows of the four tables) and went and sat by another kid that had just been sorted before me, Mark Wood. No relation to me, though.
"Wow. That was interesting!" Mark exclaimed as the witch with the croaky voice picked up the hat and stool and carried them away to who knows where.
"Yeah," I agreed weakly, still sick over the fact that I was called "sly" by the hat and it had told me I would do well in Slytherin.
"Are you alright?" Mark asked, looking at me.
"Fine," I lied and turned my attention away from his prying eyes to the big table at front.
A wizened looking man with a wisp of hair stood up from his chair at the center of the table and clapped his hands together for silence, which is exactly what he got. I knew at once that this man was the headmaster of Hogwarts.
"Welcome, everyone," he said in a weak sort of voice, "to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I hope you all spent your summers well enough. And greetings, first-years. You have just been sorted into your houses and will remain there for seven years, unless, of course, you fail a year or choose to what you kids call "drop out." But let's not have that happen. Hopefully this year will be one of learning and excitement. I, Headmaster Dippet, wish you all to do well."
He sat down and then immediately stood back up, his back popping loudly in the process. He coughed a few times and then said, "Oh, yes, of course. The Forbidden Forest you are to not enter under any circumstances. For dark things lie in wait there…."
A shiver seemed to ripple down the first years.
"But, on a happier and less dangerous note, I would like to say do not track mud on the floors, as our caretaker finds it difficult to clean up the mess even with a wand. And also, no midnight trips, meaning you are strictly to be in bed after hours, and not go sneaking around the school doing…things. And Quidditch tryouts will be held in two weeks time down at the Quidditch fields with Professor Newtal. Go to him for more information. That's all."
He sat down, and then just immediately sprang up again. "Dinner, everyone!" he shouted in the strongest voice he could manage, and then plopped down again, looking a bit exhausted after all of his up and down trips.
And then, his words came true. A magnitude of food appeared just like that on the table. I saw chicken and steak and fruits and pies and all sorts of stuff. It seemed as if every fine dining food existing was on this table. I dug in, my stomach growling for all the goodies.
I watched as Mark piled two steaks, a potato, two chicken legs, a corn cob or two, and some kind of pudding on his plate. I was surprised the plate held it all. But the question was: would Mark hold it all?
Yep, he did, he ate it all down to the last crumb. And then he ate two pieces of pie for dessert. What a chow hound!
But you had to admit, the food was good. The meat was grilled and seasoned to perfection. The pumpkin juice had just the right amount of spice and chill, and the big bowl of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans had just the right amount of good flavors to make you want to keep eating 'em, even if you did get the grass flavored one!
During our feasting, I glanced over to Tom. He was a bit hard to see over the many heads in the hall, but he being so tall, and me being so tall, I could see him.
He was sitting there daintily eating his food. The only thing on his place was bread and some soup. What was with this guy? Every else around me, including me, had all sorts of food items piled on their plates. Maybe he was just nervous about tomorrow, I reasoned.
I also noticed people seemed to be avoiding him. I mean, not like you would avoid a dangerous animal, but sort of like you wanted to avoid a roller coaster.
Like, for example, there you are at the amusement park, staring up at this gigantic machine that just makes you want to avoid it under all circumstances. But there is this sort of pull that makes you walk yourself up there and get a seat, and then ride up and down the coaster.
It was like that with Tom. He was feared, oh, yes, I could tell, but he was powerful, and people were dying to talk to him, connect with him.
But no one did anything. Tom must have been a very scary roller coaster.
And so I thought he needed company. That's why I went over there to sit with him. But I told Mark, the young man I was sitting next to, first.
"Hey, Mark, see that kid with the black hair over there with the Slytherins?" I said, pointing.
Mark reluctantly looked up from his food and followed my pointed finger. "Yeah, I see 'em. Hey, have you tried this strawberry crispy thing? It's delicious." And, as if to demonstrate how delicious it was, he held it out to me on his fork, and let me smell it. Then he put it in his mouth and smiled.
Finally he said, "What about that kid? He looks like a creep to me!"
"Mark! No he is not! He is just a little…eccentric! I sat with him on the train."
Mark looked at me and then laughed. "So that explains why you are so crazy!"
I gave him a glare. If only looks could kill!
"Fine then. Be that way. Don't see the good in people!" And away I marched to the Slytherin table.
I noticed several eyes on me as I made my way. Surely it wasn't against the rules to sit at another table, was it? Or did they consider it betrayal to your house?
But that didn't stop me. I was a Gryffindor! I could do these things!
I sat right down next to Tom, and it seemed as if the whole Great Hall went silent. Well, actually, it didn't, but the section at the table where Tom was sitting certainly did.
"What are you doing Samantha?" Tom hissed. His eyes looked dark and mysterious, and, I hate to admit, frightening.
"I just wanted to sit with you," I pouted, putting on a sad face and piling a spare plate full of orange slices to show that I was here it sit and stay. I begin eating away, all the while about twelve pairs of eyes on me.
Finally, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped. It was Professor Dippet!
"Pro, Professor, Dip, Dippet!" I stuttered. Now what had I gotten myself into?
"Miss Samantha Wood, I'm afraid that the sorting hat sorted you into Gryffindor, not Slytherin. You should go sit at your own table."
"But…but…Tom, he, Tom, my friend sits here, and I wanted, to, to, sit with him!"
"Ah, but, he is a Slytherin, you a Gryffindor. Now go sit at the correct table, or I will take points off Gryffindor."
I shoved my plate at Tom in my anger and practically yelled, "Whatever! Finish these oranges Tom! I don't want it to go to waste!" And away I marched to the Gryffindor table, my pride and heart hurt very much.
I realized that the wizened old professor followed me. And I felt guilty. But I knew where the hat was coming from when it said that I would do well in Slytherin. Maybe I should have stayed at the table of the Slytherins.
But I had been raised well, and when one of my rare outbursts occurred, I always apologized to my parents and then went into my attic room to "cool down."
I sighed and approached the professor who was still walking toward me quite slowly.
"I'm sorry sir, it's just that I have this sort of smoke inside, see, and when I get aggravated so, it just erupts and then I'm on fire. Luckily, my fire can be quenched. I'm so sorry. That was wrong of me to speak to you that way." I borrowed that fire and smoke idea from my dad, who usually explained my anger that way.
And I held out my hand for the old man to shake in a gesture of apology.
We shook on it, and Dippet smiled.
"Thank you, young lady for apologizing. Just don't let me find you at the Slytherin table at breakfast."
"How about at lunch?" I tried, but to no avail.
He just chuckled and said, "You are a Gryffindor. Show it. Prove it. Wear it. It's who you are." And away he went to the big table. He sat down next to that croaky-voiced witch and another man that greatly captured my attention.
I later learned that the man in flowing, blue robes with stars on them and a warm smile, twinkly eyes, half-moon spectacles, and an aura of intelligence and wisdom that I had never seen before was Albus Dumbledore.
And as I sat down that September day back in 1938 at my correct table, I'm almost positive that he winked at me. But I'm not for certain.
And then I dug into some Cauldron Cakes, which had just appeared for dessert.
Thanks for reading! Please review!