Instantly, a loud, ringing voice began to reverberate in Sam's head.
"A fast warning before I bid farewell, evil tidings shall come- I cannot tell.
A House divided itself must fall, and Hogwarts has split within the Ministry's thrall.
Great dangers come, new terrors arise, these I know not and am not wise.
But should you be in time of need, "Lemon Drop"- this phrase you must heed!"
And, with a flash, as fast as it had come, the words disappeared. In it's place, however, was a far more nasty voice.
"Well hello there, dearie. What have we here?"
It was the voice of the woman at the opening speech, the one who had cut off Headmaster Dumbledore. Up close, her voice sounded even worse, as if someone had turned on a drip of poisoned honey.
"Wh... Er... Who..."
"My dear, you obviously haven't been listening to my wonderful opening speech, were you? Muggleborns like you should really watch out for that, you know. But since this is your first time and you have such an adorable face, why don't we just give it a pass... this time. My name's Umbridge. Dolores Umbridge. And I'm sure we'll have a lovely time together, don't you think?"
No, Sam didn't think so. Not at all.
"Yes, Headmistress Umbridge. I'm... I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't flatter me like that. I'm just a humble Inquisitor... Headmaster Dumbledore's the head of this wonderful school, you know." She didn't sound particularly convinced about that last part.
"Now, my dear, about your house. How about... (The sound of flipping papers) Hufflepuff?"
"Er... okay."
"Perfect. So? HUFFLEPUFF!"
The last part was shouted in one large yell, as if another person had shouted it entirely- as if the hat had shouted it of its own volition.
Impartial, my bottom.
INTERLUDE: THE FEAST
As he walked over to Hufflepuff house's table, by far the largest crowd of the four, Sam privately wondered how fast it was. There was no choice, no consideration. just a name- and there he was. Seven years' worth of your mates for public schooling, all decided in the space of about 5 seconds. And he wasn't surprised in the slightest. To be sure, he had seen everybody else's Sorting, but, somewhere deep inside, perhaps a part of him had hoped that he would be... better. Special, even. Give the hat some trouble. Maybe get sorted into the underdog house, Gryffindor. But it was with a resigned heart that Sam sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Perhaps he wasn't so different after all.
After the Sorting came the feast. Well, for the Slytherins. They got fancy pudding, roast steaks of every kind, lavish dishes for all. For the Ravenclaws, while not quite as decadent, the meal was still far better than any common dinner, even the ones he'd had in fancy restaurants when he was younger and his parents had more money. The Hufflepuffs got a nice, warm meal, rather similar to the ones his mum used to make, actually. As he dug into some lamb chops, Sam thought that wasn't quite right. No, the meal was certainly a bit more... refined. It tasted fresher, tastier, closer to earth. The Gryffindors got porridge, and little else. He could almost feel Ron's eyes enviously tracking him as he reached for some Yorkshire pudding. When he had more time, he thought, he would investigate where exactly that came from, but for now- there was dessert. Mmm... Strawberry ice cream, his favourite. At least the Hufflepuffs got a few flavours, and ice cream seemed to actually have strawberries in it, which was good.
The Gryffindors got one lemon pop each, and no more.
After dinner, everyone headed up to the dormitories, where Sam would get his last big surprise that evening. As the long, long line of Hufflepuff first years filed after their prefect, a surly Slytherin called Higgs, they came across what looked like a normal-looking stairwell, only its stairs were moving. Whats more, the corridors and openings around them were constantly changing, with doors slamming shut at certain intervals and other doors appears minutes later, it was mind blowing. They headed roughly downwards, into the basement, where Higgs stopped them as they exited a flight of stairs that hurriedly reconnected to some other group of students, no doubt heading for an about-to-appear location.
Higgs then proceeded to speak in an odd, almost warning tone, his face screwed up in some resemblance of... was that pity? At any rate, his voice certainly betrayed no affection.
"Listen up, you lot o' Muggleborns. Hogwarts is a mean place and if you don't play by the rules, well, lets just say that the school has more than it fair share of nasty things waiting to come upon your poor stinking heads. You might be first years, but that doesn't make you immortal. Here the rules: Don't get caught out of bed after curfew. Don't poke your nose around where it shouldn't be. Don't go within 30 yards of a pureblood unless you absolutely have to. You see anything, keep it to yourself. Umbridge will give you hell any chance she gets, Snape even more so. It's a cruel world, you lot. Now, off to bed, filthy mudbloods!" With that, he fell silent again.
He led them to a stack of barrels near a painting of various fruit. On the second barrel from the bottom, middle of the second row, he tapped out something to the rhythm of "ba-da-ba-da-da", muttering to himself, "Hel-ga Huf-fle-puff." Instantly, one of the barrels slid open, showing a warmly lit corridor.
"Off you go, and if you're not asleep within 10 minutes, I'll personally make sure Snape has your heads."
The corridor, naturally, led to the Common Room. The place was lit with a warm, inviting glow, with a rather circular design. There were stacks and collections of rare herbs and flowers everywhere, and stuffed, comfy-looking armchairs littered the room. Underneath the badger mantlepiece was a picture of one Helga Hufflepuff, founder of the House, and her warm, glowing face was reflected by the many copper furnishings found lying about. The dorms, in contrast, were far smaller, though equally bathed in light. A small fireplace was lit at one end, and Sam found his bed already made with his trunk lying underneath. The furniture, while worn, was far from broken, and for perhaps the first time in his life, Sam felt comfortable outside of home. His bunkmate, a scared boy called Neville Longbottom, had already retired, and Sam proceeded to do so himself, lying on his bed for awhile in pajamas before drifting off into a dark, fitful sleep.
