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The Importance of Houses
The witch was a stern looking woman with greying black hair, pulled back into a tight bun. Her neat robes flowed around her as she came down the steps to greet them, looking enquiringly at Buffy over square glasses as she descended before turning to Dumbledore and speaking with a formality that contrasted with her now warm expression. "Some letters have arrived that may be important" She glanced pointedly at Buffy, obviously expecting an explanation.
"This is Buffy Summers, it's a long story, but she is 17 and untrained. Miss Summers, this is Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts."
"Pleased to meet you" the witch's eyebrows rose when she heard Buffy's accent, Buffy smiled grimly at the reaction "yes, I'm American. He did say it was a long story."
"And definitely not one we should be getting into before lunch." Dumbledore broke in before the witch could voice any of the queries that flickered over her inquisitive face "Is it ready by any chance?"
"Yes, lunch is about to be served."
"Then would you please collect the Sorting Hat from my office and bringing it to the Great Hall? Miss Summers must be sorted."
She nodded and started up the steps in front of them, leading the way into the castle. McGonagall continued on up the marble staircase directly opposite the door but Dumbledore prevented Buffy from following, drawing Buffy towards some doors to the right, explaining on the way what he had meant by sorting.
"The students at Hogwarts are split into four Houses; called Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff; they are sorted into a House when they join the school." As he spoke, they had walked into a huge room. It contained four huge tables, each of which stretched the length of the room, and one smaller table horizontally across them all at the far end. "These are the students' tables. Which one you sit at during term time will depend on your House. You will also have your lessons with housemates, sleep in your House dormitory and spend much of your free time in their common room."
As they made their way up between the tables to the one at the end, Buffy's attention was drawn to the ceiling. At first glance it seemed as though the room had no roof, looking straight out onto a cloudless sky, but on closer inspection she could see the faint shadows of rafters hidden in the clear blue sky. "The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside" Buffy was startled by a strange, high pitched voice, and looked down to find that while she had been examining her surroundings, they had made their way to the end of the hall. A man, the smallest in stature of all those at the table, had spoken to her from across it.
"This is Professor Flitwick, our Charms Master and also head of Ravenclaw. Filius, this is Buffy Summers. She will be staying here for the year." In a louder voice to the other occupants of the table who were, in some cases visibly, straining to hear the conversation, Dumbledore bellowed "I would like to call a staff meeting, commencing after lunch, to discuss our new arrival."
The other teachers seemed slightly perturbed that they wouldn't find out about the strange guest immediately, but resigned themselves to waiting, being used to following Dumbledore's orders. Before they could become restless, McGonagall returned, a very battered looking hat in her hand.
"What's that?" Buffy asked.
"This is the Sorting Hat. It decides which House you belong in."
"It decides? How does it know?" That she had unwittingly spoken the words out loud was a testament of how much the last few day's happenings had affected her.
From down the table a response came, though Buffy could not pinpoint where the speaker "It looks into your mind."
"Look into my mind?" Buffy's overwhelmed expression melted into concern, settling on the hat. What would it see in hers?
McGonagall's stern face flickered for a moment with pity for the girl. Older teenagers had a lot more secrets than eleven year olds, far more complex emotions to hide "Do not worry; It doesn't actually see thoughts. It merely assesses your character and capabilities." She handed the hat to Buffy.
Buffy stood for a moment with the object in her hands, unsure whether she would reveal all her secrets by putting it on. Taking a wary look along the teachers table, she saw that their patience was wearing thin, waiting for her to do this before starting their meal. Oh well Buffy decided, if it comes out, there's nothing I can do, so she put the hat onto her head.
For a moment, looking at the dark inside of the hat, Buffy thought that this was just some kind of elaborate joke being played on her by the middle aged teachers. Then she heard a quiet voice right up against her ear. "Hmm… what a mind, what a mind. So much hurt, so much pain. There's power, oh yes, but you've used up all your drive to use it. Where should I put you?" It paused in its thoughtful musings, as if waiting for a reply. When none was forthcoming, it made a noise almost like an "hmph" of annoyance and continued "Well, you're only here for a year, so it had better be… RAVENCLAW!"
Buffy waited, unsure of what to do, but it quickly became obvious that the hat had completed its task, when it began to snore lightly. Carefully taking off the hat so as to not disturb its slumber, she found the teachers, particularly Dumbledore and Flitwick, looking at her thoughtfully. She wondered what this House thing meant, what they used to decide where you went, why they needed a hat, even one capable of thought, to make the decision for them.
McGonagall cleared her throat and held out her hand for Buffy to return the hat. It was very similar to the trial; standing in front of the teachers table with them all staring across at her, judging her. This time not by her actions but by the House she was assigned to. Finally the small man, Professor Flitwick, created a chair from thin air with a wave of his wand and a few choice words. He looked at Dumbledore, silently asking for permission to take charge of the new addition to his House and, when it was granted with a sincere nod, started telling Buffy of his plans; intermittently glancing to the Headmaster for his approval.
"If you take a seat, after the meal I'll show you to the dormitory you'll be staying in, and leave you to settle in. Later I'll discuss your schedule and we'll plan your curriculum."
The food was beautifully prepared, producing amazing aromas, but the flavours turned to ashes in her mouth; the attention she was receiving from the faculty making her too on edge to enjoy the meal. Instead she absent-mindedly poked at her food while listening to the idle chatter going on around her. Trying to ignore the fugitive glances sent her way whenever the conversation veered towards the subject of their new guest. Buffy was still pushing food about her plate when Professor Flitwick's distinctive voice invaded her thoughts, asking if she was done. Looking up, she found that lunch had ended, many of the staff leaving having completed their meal, she stood and followed him through the castle.
They climbed staircases and wandered down corridors, all the way her Head of House issued a running commentary of their journey, including warnings such as "Every Tuesday this step disappears" and "Of course, this corridor moves to the third floor every other month and you have to take…"
His helpful directions confused Buffy so much that she soon stopped even attempting to remember them. Finally they halted beside a large bronzed figure of an eagle mid flight, its claws outstretched as it reached down, seemingly intent on grasping any people walking by.
"This is the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, the password is 'Aquila Chrysaetos'"
At those words the eagle lowered its wings revealing an opening into a spiral staircase winding up into the wall. They clambered up the vast bronze wings and into the stairwell, continuing upwards as the wings creaked back into place behind them, hiding the stairs from sight. The staircase ended in the centre of a large circular room, filled with large polished tables surrounded by chairs to work at, as well as hard leather armchairs and sofas gathered around fireplaces in the walls.
The dark wood used in the panelling and furniture gave the room a slightly enclosed feeling. All the upholstery was dyed a deep navy blue, and above each of fireplaces hung a tapestry in blue and bronze with the symbol of the House; an eagle. Buffy stared thoughtfully at the bird as Flitwick continued the tour in his high toned voice.
"Feel free to roam the castle. In order to leave you merely need to stroke the back of the eagles head. Any out of bounds areas will be locked, so you are welcome to go anywhere you can get in to. Ask the paintings if you get lost, most of them are helpful."
"What do the Houses mean?" Buffy wondered out loud. Flitwick paused and stared at her, surprised by the sudden interruption by the silent girl. With his full attention firmly on her for the first time, she babbled an elaboration "I mean… how does that hat know who belongs where?"
"Well there are certain attributes that each of the founders preferred" when this did nothing to diffuse Buffy's perplexed expression he hastened to explain further "The Houses are named after the four people who founded the school centuries ago, you see. Godric Gryffindor chose young wizards to teach based on their courage, Helga Hufflepuff especially prized loyalty, Salazar Slytherin only taught pupils with cunning and ambition and Rowena Ravenclaw loved the intelligent students. The Sorting Hat was once Godric's. He bewitched it to sort students into the House they'd fit best after the Founders had died and could no longer choose themselves."
Buffy didn't reply to this speech and after a long moment, Flitwick stopped waiting for one, leading his student up one of the two spiral staircases which wound around the wall of the common room to show her the girl's dormitory. When left alone by the Professor, who excused himself to go to the staff meeting of Dumbledore's, she lay on one of the beds staring into nothing, lost in thought.
The past few days had been full of huge changes to her life and it was only now beginning to dawn on her that this was all real. Since waking up in the park she had been put on trial by wizards, deported, and sent to a magic school. It had all seemed like some terrible yet fascinating dream in which she could immerse herself, forgetting about the people she'd left behind, the love she'd lost. Hearing the list of attributes of the Houses brought into sharp focus what she'd done when she'd left Sunnydale.
How could she be put in Gryffindor when she didn't have the courage to follow her destiny, Hufflepuff when she had abandoned the friends who had been loyal to her until the end, according to the hat she hadn't even been ambitious enough for Slytherin. The prospect of dying before you reach adulthood and the death of him had destroyed any ambitions she'd ever had for the future.
No, instead she'd been put in a House that prides itself on intelligence! Why the hat thought Buffy would fit in here, she couldn't understand. She looked around at the deep blue drapes around her four poster bed; the decorators of the Ravenclaw tower certainly didn't want you to forget where you were.
It dawned on her that she was finally in a place that wasn't just a stopover in a strange cell or pub, but the place she had to stay at for nearly a year. She was obviously in this House by default, her deficits in the attributes required for the other Houses outweighing her lack of intelligence. She had abandoned her friends, family, duty, and was now stuck in a House she didn't belong in, in a country she didn't know, surrounded by a culture of wizards and magic that she didn't understand.
Buffy felt entirely alone, and all she wanted was him, was Angel. Finally allowing herself to say his name, to admit he was gone broke something in her. She cried out to him in the night, the wail of a creature that's lost its mate, and hid her head in the pillows, trying to hide her tears.
When Professor Flitwick returned to discuss the lesson structure agreed by the staff, he heard the sobs from down in the Ravenclaw common room and left her in peace. Knowing that in the past three days, she had been taken away from everything she knew, though not understanding the extent of her loss. He compassionately allowed her to recover before forcing her into the hellish schedule of work needed to catch up to the level the Minister had set.
That evening, the last light of the dying sun as it descended into the horizon shone through a window onto the grieving figure of the slayer.