A/N: A Big thank you to everyone who has given feedback on all of these fics, it is greatly appreciate while being very motivational for me to continue writing. (Also the fact that where I'm staying has the internet shut off at nine gives me plenty of time to write as well...) Another thank you, to my Beta Charlotte who reads through these chapters and gives every one of them a good cleaning.
Now this next chapter deals with the sorting, it is one of the chapters I always have a fear of writing because I feel that the Sorting Hat's dialogue is particularly challenging. But it's something inevitable that I have to tackle! So I hope you enjoy! That being said, a lot of this is going to be similar to canon because Harry acting different wouldn't really change what would be happening when he arrives. P.S.: loving all of the reviews!
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Chapter 4: The Sorting Hat
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"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 fit the whole of the Dursleys' house 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 flagstone floor. Harry 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. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall, "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber. Harry swallowed, "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any proper magic yet, all he had managed to do was blow up a few pots with accidental magic, and his father wasn't pleased… what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.
He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry tried hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he had been yelled at by the portrait of Mrs. Black that hung in Sirius' home yelled at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom. Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air, several people behind him screamed.
"What the ...?"
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and translucent, 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 ruffled shirt 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 oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Susan behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry 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. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History" which caused Harry to smirk, of course she would know that.
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. Harry quickly looked down again 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. Yet Harry couldn't help but believe that this hat was immensely important.
Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing - noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. 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 Hufflepuffs 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!" Harry heard a voice exclaim behind him, "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.
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. There was 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. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!" Harry's friend pushed past him, mumbling under her breath
"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; Harry could see a pair of twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an arrogant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Harry noticed, 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. Hearing a groan from behind him Harry turned his head to see Ron Weasley, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes in ignorance of the other boy.
A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?
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!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking quite 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, at last - "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 last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm, another Potter" said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, "Just let me stay with my friends, I just want to be with my friends..
"How loyal of you…" said the small voice, "Some of these friends you met not long ago, how can you be sure they are your friends? How can you be sure they aren't pretending because you are the precious 'chosen-one'? How can you be sure that they won't betray you?"
"Stop it!" Harry exclaimed, "These are my friends, they wouldn't do that!"
"Are you sure?" Harry could have sworn that he heard the hat snigger, if it could, "would you be willing to risk everything on that?"
"Yes, I would do anything for my friends. Loyalty first."
"Well that's very brave of you to say… but I would rather you be…"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Hufflepuff table, who was cheering the loudest by far. In fact, most of the tables were cheering loudly as he walked to the Badgers table, most of them not including the Slytherin table for some reason. A Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the two beaters he sat in between on the train yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down beside Susan, and opposite fat ghost he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from all of the Chocolate Frog cards he had. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry glanced at a pale, twitching young man who seemed immensely nervous. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Nevilleat the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now, causing Susan to hide her giggling beneath her mouth. "Gryffindor!" they watched as the boy nearly fainted beside one of his brothers as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages 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. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.
"Is he - a bit mad?" he asked Cedric uncertainly.
"Mad?" said Cedric airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked 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. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.
"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak,
"Can't you -?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? The Fat Friar at your service. Resident ghost of the Hufflepuff Basement."
"So - new Hufflepuffs! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? We have had some sort of a dry spell you may say. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost." Harry 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, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Susan with great interest.
"I've never asked," said The Fat Friar 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. As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.
"I'm half-and-half," said Earnie Macmillan, "Mum's a Muggle. Dad didn't tell him he was a Wizard 'til after they were married. But they've always seemed fine."
"What about you, Susan?" said Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"Well, my aunt brought me up and she's a witch," said Susan, "My mother and father were both magical, but they died in the last war."
Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. The twitchy professor, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past the other professor's turban straight into Harry's eyes - and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"What is it?" asked Cedric.
"N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look - a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who are those two professors up there?" he asked Cedric.
"Oh, well the one in the turban is Professor Quirell the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. He used to be very good until he came back from Romania before last year, but then his lessons became all book work. No wonder he's looking so nervous though, 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."
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent. "Ahern - 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 Gryffindor table. "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."
Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did. "He's not serious?" he muttered to Cedric.
"Must be," said Cedric, 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."
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry 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, two twins at the Gryffindor table 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 Hufflepuff first years followed their prefect through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and down a marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice the prefect led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt in front of stack of Barrels.
"Congratulations! I'm prefect Gabriel Truman, and I'm delighted to welcome you to HUFFLEPUFF HOUSE." the prefect began, "Now I'm only going to explain this once. To get into our common room you must tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row… this one here" He pointed to the barrel, taking precaution not to touch it.
"You must tap it in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff' which will make the lid of the barrel swing open, revealing a secret passageway like so…" the prefect tapped the barrel twice, then three times, and the round side of the barrel split in two, creating a doorway. "This passageway will lead you into the basement. I must warn you, if you try tapping the wrong barrel lid, or the incorrect rhythm, you will be doused in vinegar and barred access… now funny as that may be, I doubt anyone wants you stinking up the common room with vinegar… now follow me."
Harry and the rest of the first years followed the prefect through the tunnel, the barrel closing behind them once they had all come though. The actual basement itself is round, earthy, low-ceilinged, welcoming, warm, and judging by the amount of light let in by the moon, Harry assumed it would be very sunny during the day. There were lots of yellow hangings, burnished coper and overstuffed sofas and armchairs upholstered in yellow and black, and circular windows that provided a view of the moonlit grass.
"Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher, is our head of house." The prefect explained, "She brings in plants all of the time, some even sing even you can catch them at the right time of day." He gestured to all of the plants, some on the windowsills, others hanging from the ceiling.
"Boys your dormitory is through that Barrel door, and girls yours is through the one on the opposite wall. I suggest you get settled for the night and turn in, there will be a meeting in the morning with the other prefects, all Hufflepuff first years are required to be there, please don't be late. Goodnight!"
Harry waved goodnight to Susan and followed the other boys towards the large barrel. Stepping through the circular door Harry caught a glimpse of what would be his home for the next seven years. All of the walls were illuminated by warm copper lamps, each bed had a copper bed-warmer by its side, in case its inhabitant developed cold feet. Each bed was a four-poster bed that was covered in patchwork quilts, Harry quickly found the one that had his trunk in front of it. Not wanting to be late to the meeting tomorrow morning, Ernie Macmillan suggested they all go to sleep. Which had been no problem for Harry, who had been so full of food he was asleep before his head had hit the pillow.
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A/N: Well there you have it! In all honesty I had to look up what the interior and exterior of the Hufflepuff common rooms looked like and I was immensely pleased. However I did change two things with them concerning the doors. In Canon you tap the top of the barrel because that is the part that faces forward, once it opens you have to crawl into the common room, now I really did not feel like that would be appropriate considering some of the uniforms (I.E. Girls) so I changed the front enterance of the common room to a barrel standing up, so they could simply walk through once it opens.
The second change I made was that to the doors for the dormitories, they were like the original front entrance in which you had to crawl through, now I don't know about you, but if I had just gotten through a day of magic, cleaning up after animals if you are in care of magical creatures, or going through a rough day of quidditch practices or matches, I would not want to get on my hands and knees and crawl to get to my bed… that being said I just enlarged the entrance to where you can just walk through… think of them as REALLY BIG barrel tops… with handles that you can pull on to open… like doors… its basically a hobbit hole door but not… because it is in Harry Potter…
Just wanted to thank everyone for their support in this project that I'm doing, I have many many plans for the futures, and it takes three times as long to write chapter for this fiction since I am writing it for three different universes. So that being said thank you very much for your reviews and PM's they are greatly appreciated. To those of you following or favorite-ing the story feel free to drop a review an let me know what you think!