The large doors opened to reveal a witch dressed in green robes. Her expression was that of strictness. She was definitely not someone anyone should cross.
The large man spoke to her, "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank-you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." The look on her face, now, was unreadable; though, for some reason, Mikara felt that Professor McGonagall felt a little… skeptical, of Hagrid.
She pulled the doors open, wide and everyone followed her in. The entrance hall was huge and was lit by the light of torches perched on the walls. There was a wide staircase that circled up, in all of its brilliance.
Mikara took everything in as she and her fellow first years followed the solemn, Professor McGonagall. They stopped in front of another pair of handsome doors. Professor McGonagall turned to face them. "Welcome to Hogwarts. 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 it's 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 rule breaking 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."
Mikara watched as Professor McGonagalls eyes scanned the inhabitants of the room. Her eyes lingered on a few people, but never on Mikara; she was glad at that.
"I shall return when we are ready for you." She looked at everyone again, quickly. "Please wait quietly."
She left the room and everyone started whispering to whomever the wished to converse with.
Mikara stood there not having anyone to talk with. Hermione was somewhere up front, and Mikara was stuck at the end of the line. She listened to what everyone else was saying. "…I heard you have to wrestle a troll from someone at the front of the line…" most of the people were saying things like, "…my sister told me it has something to do with a hat…" and "…my brother said you have moon the whole room. I don't know about you, but I don't want anyone to see my birth mark…" Eww!
Mikara stood listening as she saw something moving overhead. She looked up and screamed. Ghosts…? There were about twenty, or more, of them, all floating overhead. It seemed, they were arguing over some issue about someone named… Peeves.
"…Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –" A fat ghost, with little hair atop his head, tried to reason.
"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, who looked like he belonged in one of Shakespeare's plays, wearing tights and the whole getup, seemed to finally notice the shocked and nervous stares of the first years.
No one said anything; they were all completely frightened. Finally, the Fat Friar spoke up with a smile on his transparent face. "New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?" The person next to Mikara nodded and so did a few others.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" He said. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a pointed voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned while all the first years had had there attention focused on the ghosts. The ghosts were now leaving, heading through the wall that lead to what was on the other side of the handsome doors.
Mikara gulped as she followed the other first years through the large doors. She was overcome with astonishment; there were candles floating overhead everywhere. Mikara noticed there were four large tables and a smaller one at the top of the room. The students, who were sitting at the four tables, were all staring at them as they came in. The small table, at the top, was where the teachers were sitting. The tables were covered with sparkling golden plates and goblets. Professor McGonagall lead the first years up in front of the teachers' table; the first years turned, in a line, and faced the students, with their backs to the teachers. The ghosts could be seen floating overhead, watching the first years intently. Also, overhead, was a black sky, dotted with stars.
Mikara's attention was drawn to Professor McGonagall, who was dragging a stool out to the middle of the floor, she, then, placed a hat on top of it. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
Mikara stared at the hat, along with everyone else in the Great Hall. Everything was quiet for a few seconds, then, the hat twitched. A rip near the rim 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 and so did Mikara. The hat bowed to each of the four tables, than became still again.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a roll of parchment in her hands. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pretty girl, with blonde hair and rather rosy cheeks, stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. After a moments pause–
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went and sat down at the Hufflepuff table. The Fat Friar waved to Hannah as she sat down.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" and off went Susan to sit next to Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.
Mikara mentally checked off the people in her mind as they were chosen and placed in their house. Two Ravenclaw's; a Gryffindor, and a Slytherin. After more and more people were placed, they came down to the K's. Then:
"Kaze no Hana, Mikara!"
Mikara steadily walked towards the hat, which still stood on the small wooden stool. She picked it up, placed it on her head and sat down.
"Interesting. Very interesting." A small voice said into Mikara's ear. Her eyes darted around, staring at the black inside of the over-sized hat.
"Mystifying, seems to make more sense though." The hat matter-of-factly stated. "Hmm, talent, I see. Smart, too. Persistent, yes; you're ancestry… very interesting, I've just the place for you-"
"SLYTHERIN!" The boisterous hat shouted and Mikara tipped the hat off of her head and placed it back on the chair.
She didn't know much about the houses, but she was still happy to be included in one; being the only one to not have been picked to join a house would have been awful. Mikara walked over to the Slytherin table and sat beside a boy with brown hair who was talking to a boy with blonde hair to the right of him. Mikara sat and watched the rest of the first years get sorted. Only once did the hall burst into whispers, when a boy named Harry Potter, was, chosen, to be sorted. Mikara didn't know what everyone was whispering about him, but she heard people calling him, 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. Lived from what?
The sorting finished and Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment and took the hat away.
A man stood up. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard and mustache. He grinned broadly at the students with his arms opened wide.
"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 and everyone clapped and cheered. Mikara just stared at the odd man, wondering if he wasn't a bit out of his mind.
The clapping died down and food magically appeared on the table. Mikara stared, dumbfounded, at the piles and piles of food sitting in front of her. Some of the food she didn't even recognize, but she hadn't eaten since the little snack on the train that seemed like it had been days ago. She took some of everything, except for a dish that looked and smelled like old gym socks. Everything tasted wonderfully. She ate until she could eat no more.