The doors to the castle swung open. Standing there was an older witch with straight black hair pulled into a severe bun and emerald green robes--Minerva McGonagall herself, in all her glory. One of the few adults in this world with common sense, I thought to myself, suppressing a wry smile.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
The entrance hall was huge, larger than any space I had ever been in before. The ancient stone walls were lit by torches, and as I crossed the threshold the feeling of something heavy settled over me. It was a kind of gentle pressure, warm and grounding in the way a weighted blanket is. I ignored Professor McGonagall's explanation of the Houses as she led us to a small antechamber near the Great Hall. Instead I tried to think about what the strange heaviness was. The poetic side of my mind thought it was the weight of all the years of history and magic built into the very walls, but I set that aside. Soon I would have access to Hogwarts' library, and I could research the strange phenomena to my heart's content.
The door shut behind the professor as she went to check and see if the rest of the school was ready for us, and the pointed drawl of a child cut through the air. "It's true then," said the recognizable voice, "what they're saying on the train. Hyacinth Potter has come to Hogwarts." I held back a groan. I had hoped that avoiding the compartment containing both my luggage and Ron Weasley had allowed me to avoid this confrontation, but it appeared I had only delayed it.
Draco Malfoy weaseled his way to the front of the crowd, and when his eyes met mine there wasn't a hint of recognition in them. I doubt he had truly seen me at Madame Malkin's, and had probably just seen an appropriate kid-shaped blob to brag to. "This is Crabbe, and Goyle," he said, jerking his head in the directions of his future minions. "and I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He stepped closer, an excited gleam in his eyes.
I took a deep breath, tamping down my irritation. He was just a kid, one who didn't know any better. It would do no good to humiliate him. "I know," I said evenly. "We met last month, at Madame Malkin's--" but that was as far as I got, because that was when he registered Neville and Hermione standing on either side of me, and his mouth curled into a sneer.
"You'll soon find out that some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter," he said, throwing a disdainful glance first at Neville, then Hermione. "Although I suppose any wizarding family is better than someone whose parents are muggles. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." He held out his hand. "I can help you there."
I looked at his outstretched hand evenly for a moment, considering. Neville was shrinking into himself, trying to hide behind me. Hermione was bristling with righteous indignation, and she opened her mouth to fire back at him before I squeezed her hand gently, letting her know that I'd handle this one. I wouldn't chasten him too strictly, since he didn't know any better, but I would not tolerate that kind of behavior.
I looked up to meet his eyes once more, face blank. "First of all, don't interrupt me when I'm speaking, it's rude." I said. His mouth fell open in affront, but I wasn't finished. "If you really were superior to all the other students here, you'd know how to observe common courtesy. Secondly, my mother's parents were muggles, and I doubt anyone wants to make friends with someone who insults their parents. However," I add, throwing him a bone as his pale face flushes redder and redder, "I would be more than happy to become friends with you once you expand your horizons and do some research. Learn some more about the world outside what your parents told you and come back to me."
The whole room broke out into chatter, and a dark-skinned boy dragged Malfoy away before he could get his mouth working again, though both boys kept wide eyes on me the whole time. I didn't have much time to worry about having made any extra enemies though, as the ghosts entered the room and the kids went wild.
Finally, McGonagall returned, and we were ushered into the Great Hall to begin the Sorting Ceremony.
There was no other word for it, the Great Hall was magical. 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. Hoping to avoid all the staring eyes, Hyacinth looked up at the ceiling, which of course could not be seen due to the enchantment. Hermione whispered to her and Neville, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
McGonagall brought out the Sorting Hat, and it went into its little musical number. I could tell that everyone else was drinking in the whole performance with wide eyes, but I found it difficult to keep my attention from wandering. My gaze skipped over the tables full of older students, seeing if I could pick out any characters I might know. The Hall was so packed with students that I was unsuccessful, with one exception. The moment I caught sight of a neon fuchsia head of hair at the Hufflepuff table, I knew I had found Nymphadora Tonks.
The Sorting proceeded, and both Neville and I wished Hermione all the luck, as she was the first of our little trio to get called up. As she walked up to the stool, I could hear someone shuffling into the empty spot she had left behind. "So, you're really Hyacinth Potter, then?" a voice asked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"Yup!" I said, noting a head of red hair out of the corner of my eye. "You're Ron, right? Fred and George mentioned they had a brother starting this year."
"Yeah," he said, in a disgruntled voice. I felt bad about it for a moment, but then he opened his mouth again. "do you-do you remember anything? You know, from the night when You-Know Who gave you the...?"
He trailed off as I tore my gaze away from the Sorting to look at him incredulously. "Are you really asking if I remember my parents getting murdered?" I asked. Ron went scarlet, and we stood in awkward silence for the rest of the Sorting.
Neville went into Gryffindor, and I bit back a groan as I realized I had missed Hermione's Sorting into the same House. Next time, I thought grimly, I won't let rude gingers distract me!
McGonagall called out "Potter, Hyacinth!" and the room erupted into whispers. I did my best to ignore them as I marched forward steadfastly and sat down on the stool. The Sorting Hat was so large it slipped over my eyes, and only barely caught onto my nose instead of overtaking my whole head.
Hmmmm, a voice said into the darkness. Interesting. Very interesting. You're clever, no doubt, and there's a thirst for knowledge that's very Ravenclaw of you. But your determination and cunning would make you fit right in with Slytherin. And then there's this strange knowledge of the future. I've never seen that before.
I very patiently kept my thoughts quiet, content to let the Hat do its job without input from me.
You've got a long, hard road ahead of you, it said, and your knowledge of what comes next will make the path more dangerous, not less. With the tightrope you've assigned yourself to walk on, it would be best not to add more difficulties to your path. In that case, better be...
"RAVENCLAW!" The Hat roared and in the moment before it was pulled off my head I heard it whisper, It's a shame though. You would have made a magnificent Slytherin.
The Hall exploded. people went wild, and I could have sworn I saw several upperclassmen from Gryffindor glaring at the Hat, as if it had personally affronted them by not placing me with them.
I walked over to the Ravenclaw table and sat down. From here I could see the Teacher's table, and I idly scanned it while Dumbledore made his ridiculous welcome speech. Hagrid offered me a proud grin, and Professor Flitwick looked pleased as punch to have me in his House.
By the time the feast was over, I was so tired I had nearly faceplanted into my lasagna multiple times. I am not ashamed to admit that I had zoned out during Dumbledore's announcements. Had I been more awake, I no doubt would have laughed at his warnings about the third floor corridor. After all, what kind of deadly security system could be outwitted by three eleven year olds?
The kind that's meant to be a test, a quiet voice in my head whispered, but I was too exhausted to ponder Dumbledore's dubious morals. Instead I followed the prefects, Penelope Clearwater and a boy named Auguste Silverthorne, up to Ravenclaw tower and promptly fell into my bed with all the grace of a newborn foal. I was asleep before I hit the sheets.