Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl. Chapter 22: The Sorting Ceremony
DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter and its characters are the creation of JK Rowling and are the property of JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers. The Fink-Nottle and Mulliner surnames might still belong to the Estate of PG Wodehouse, but none of the characters with those surnames are meant to be Wodehouse characters (The Wodehouse characters have gone off to their eternal reward).
I am writing for my amusement, not for commercial gain.
Rater "T" for language. This version of Daria has a potty mouth when she really gets angry (But then again she was raised in the Oil Patch).
My apologies to my readers. I posted this chapter without posting what is the preceding chapter first. The proper order is Hogwarts Express, Boating Across the Loch, then The Sorting Ceremony
Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl*Daria Ravenclaw: The Year of the Owl
Professor McGonagall closed the doors and went back into the Great Hall. Megan started fidgeting under her robe as if she was trying to find something. "Oh, Bugger!" said Megan. "I forgot my comb!"
"No sweat," said Daria. "I put two in my coat pocket." She pulled out her spare and gave it to Megan.
Megan smiled her thanks and began frantically combing her hair.
Daria had not had that much of an opportunity to look over her classmates since she boarded at King's Cross station. She'd first had to penetrate the barrier at Platform 9 ¾, find a compartment, and then after a long train ride, make her way from Hogsmeade station down to the boats. Now in the small anteroom next to the great hall, she did.
"Hey, Cuthbert," said Daria.
"Hey, Daria," Cuthbert replied.
"Safe again on solid ground," Daria quipped.
"That's because you lubbers don't know anything about boats," Cuthbert snarked back. Daria and Cuthbert had spent their train trip apart from King's Cross to Hogsmeade: Cuthbert had found some fellow first-years and had spent their train trip talking about sports, video games, comic books, and other guy stuff while Megan, the Banks sisters and Majda Paderewsky were trying to make friends with her.
Megan looked in wide-eyed surprise at Daria and Cuthbert. "Do you two know each other?" she asked.
"We go back," said Daria. "Cuthbert and I went to the same school for almost two years."
"A magical school?" asked Dahlia.
"No, just a garden-variety public school in Highland, Texas. We were there for two years."
"What was he doing in Texas?" asked Dahlia.
"His Dad was there for his work," said Daria, squelching Cuthbert's reply. Daria never asked Mr. Fink-Nottle just what his job was but suspected that it had something to do with aero-space avionics and was classified "Secret" six ways to breakfast. Daria wanted to make sure that Cuthbert didn't get into trouble. She was just beginning to relax a little when something gave the back of her head a smack and then lifted her cap off her head.
Daria liked to think of herself as being cool and collected, but the smack took her flash back to James Ferguson Elementary School and the Three Stooges' reign of terror, when younger and smaller kids were tormented by the bigger, older bullies. (1)
"HEY!" Daria shouted.
Her yell was met with gales of high, cackling laughter from what looked like a little man dressed in Medieval fool's clothing moving about well above arm's reach.
"Ickle firsties!" the little man cried with glee, then swooped through the newcomers, swatting heads, tugging hair, pulling at skirt hems and trouser legs, causing them to start yelling and squealing in panic.
Daria scowled balefully at whatever-it-was. She had had to put up with the Three Stooges' crap back in Highland, but she was older now and this time she had magic. She drew her wand. She didn't have to put up with this stuff, and neither did her peers.
The little man looped, then dove again through the first-years, setting off more squeals and screams of fright and panic. Daria looked at the little shit and tried to line up a good shot, but he was too fast and too tricky for her line up a hex that wouldn't hit her classmates.
She was still angry. "I'LL KICK YOUR ASS, YOU LITTLE F***ER!" she yelled.
She was trying to line up another shot on her classmates' little tormentor when the doors to the Great Hall swung open and the rest of her classmates fell silent.
"PEEEVES!" roared a loud, adult voice. The little man ceased what he was doing, then disappeared with a sudden, loud pop. Two adults looked down sternly at the frightened children. One of the adults was Professor McGonagall. The other was Headmaster Dumbledore.
Meeting their gaze, Daria meekly lowered her wand.
"That's enough of that," said the Headmaster. "Peeves is a poltergeist and will mind his P's and Q's for the remainder of this evening."
"There will be no interrupting the Sorting Ceremony or the Welcoming Banquet." (2)
"Students will comport themselves properly," Professor McGonagall added. "And no foul language."
Daria got the message. She hoped that Peeves got the message, too.
The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall continued the stare-down for what seemed like five minutes more. Daria felt thoroughly cowed. So did her classmates. The Headmaster turned away and walked back towards the High Table at the front of the Great Hall.
"Children, I again suggest that you freshen up," said Professor McGonagall.
Several of Daria's classmates made some hasty last-minute adjustments. Daria put her hand to her hair and decided that it was still orderly enough. When Professor McGonagall decided that they were fresh enough, she swept her gaze over them and said "Now follow me."
The doors opened and Daria, Megan, Majda, and Dahlia all fell into line as the new First Years entered the Great Hall. The line of new students stopped at the edge of four long tables, each occupied by students wearing neckties with different trimmings. Ahead of them was the High Table, occupied by the school's headmaster and faculty, but between the High table and the new students was a battered old wizard's hat placed on top of a simple wooden stool.
The long tables and the one in front fell silent. To Daria's surprise, the hat began to sing.
You're newly-come to Hogwarts School
You see me seated on a stool.
You ask yourselves "What is that?"
Well, I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat.
"A talking hat?" you stand and stare
But I ask you all to be aware
That I'm much more than you see.
First-years I can peer into your mind
And house you with others of your kind
Hogwarts School has houses four
Hufflepuff and Slytherin
And Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.
Gryffindor might be the house for you
For brave hearts who seek adventure
Slytherin is the house for those of the cunning mind
If you be one, you'll be among your kind
Ravenclaw is the house for those clever sorts
who wit and knowledge treasure.
Hufflepuffs are not afraid of toil
Hufflepuffs are brave and loyal.
So put aside your thoughts of dread
Place me atop your head
I will look and see
And place you where you ought to be
Because I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
Thus ends this song and that is that.
The older students smiled and applauded when the hat stopped singing, as did several of what must be members of the faculty seated at the High Table in the front of the hall.
"Violet says that the Sorting Hat's songs are different every year," Dahlia whispered into Daria's ear. (3)
Professor McGonagall turned around to face the students she'd led into the hall. "As I call your names, you will step forward, and sit on the stool to be Sorted," she said.
"Abreux, Cynthia," called Professor McGonagall, reading the first name from the roll of parchment in her hand.
A nervous-looking fair-haired girl picked up the Sorting Hat and put it on her head.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Sorting Hat.
"Allstone, Corwin," called Professor McGonagall.
The hat waited several seconds, then called "RAVENCLAW!"
"Banks, Dahlia," called Professor McGonagall.
Daria's new friend from the compartment stepped forward, put the hat on her head, and sat on the stool.
"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the Hat.
"Barksdale, Callista," called Professor McGonagall. Daria's eyes widened in surprise. She'd already heard that there was at least one line of Barksdale witches, but she didn't know if she see any while she was at Hogwarts. She wondered what her long-lost cousins looked like.
Daria would not have recognized Callista as a Barksdale. She was darker-haired, her face was squarer, and her neck was shorter than her Mother's or her aunts'. The Barksdale girl walked up to the sorting stool, looked at the other unsorted First Years with disdain, then put on the hat. She'd been better prepared than Daria; she'd pinned up her hair at the start of the day and the hat didn't sink over her head.
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat.
This Callista looked absolutely jubilant. The girl took off the hat, slid off the stool, placed the hat back on it, and only the slower pace of the Slytherin prefect who escorted her kept her from skipping over to the Slytherin table
"Barksdale, Livia," called Professor McGonagall.
Wow, there were TWO Barksdales in this year's class, she thought. This second one looked a lot more like someone from her family. This Livia Barksdale physically reminded her of her younger sister Quinn, but this girl had a scowl that Quinn lacked.
Livia put on the Sorting Hat, which shouted "Slytherin!" almost immediately. She smiled triumphantly and followed a Slytherin prefect to the Slytherin table.
By the time Professor McGonagall got to the surnames that began with "C," Daria had learned the Sorting's pattern. Professor McGonagall would call a student, the student would pick up the hat and sit on the stool, and the hat would call out what house they were sorted into. She watched as some of the first-years were sorted into Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, occasionally into Gryffindor, less frequently into Slytherin. Daria was increasingly confident that the hat was going to Sort her somewhere. She didn't care about being popular, and she was pretty sure that the magic hat operated on adults' rules, not what kids wanted.
"Chang, Cho," Professor McGonagall called out. Daria wondered if Cho Chang was from that London Chinatown she and her Dad had found a couple of days ago.
"Ravenclaw!" shouted the Sorting Hat.
Daria would have liked to have some time to zone out and admire the Great Hall, but Cuthbert Fink Nottle hadn't been Sorted yet. She hoped that she and he didn't get into the same House. A little Fink Nottle went a long way; she thought she could put up with Cuthbert during the school day, but she did NOT want to share dormitory space with him. She tried to admire her surroundings but tried to listen to the Sortings with half an ear.
"Edgecombe, Marietta," called Professor McGonagall.
"Ravenclaw!" shouted the Sorting Hat.
"Fink-Nottle, Cuthbert," called Professor McGonagall. Cuthbert nervously stepped out of line of unsorted First-Years and started towards the Sorting Stool. She gave him a pat on the back as he walked by. Cuthbert turned his head and nodded Thanks. Cuthbert nervously sat on the Sorting Stool. Daria nervously waited too. Cuthbert was hard-core when it came to fish, but she really hoped that he went into some other house.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Sorting Hat. Daria sighed with relief, put on a smile, and started applauding with the Hufflepuffs.
Daria decided that since her name was in the middle of the alphabet, she could now allow herself to be distracted by her surroundings. She'd relaxed a little by this point. She'd seen some of the other kids sorted and they didn't seem to be worse off than before the hat went on their heads.
The Great Hall was magnificent. It was long and Gothic and had stained-glass windows like a Medieval church. Green and black banners flew from the great hall's sides. Statues of men and women, presumably famous witches and wizards, stood on pedestals on many of the columns that held up the roof and walls of the Great Hall.
Her gave moved away from the ceiling to the floor beneath it. The four long tables stretched length-wise down the Great Hall. She noted that Hogwarts had boys and girls mixed together instead of being separated by sex. Nor were they separated by age: Daria saw kids who looked her age mixed in with older kids who looked almost adult.
She decided that she'd better check in and see just how far down the list of First-years Professor McGonagall had gotten.
"Lane, Forrest," read Professor McGonagall. "They'd reached the L's already?" she thought. She'd better get ready; it would be her turn to put on the hat and sit down on the stool shortly.
"Leeward, Megan," read Professor McGonagall.
The hat hesitated for no more than a moment before crying "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Good for Megan, thought Daria. She was glad to see Megan get into a house, although she suspected that she and Megan wouldn't be in the same one. She wondered how Megan would handle Cuthbert.
"Lenoir, Drusilla," read Professor McGonagall.
Daria recognized her as one of the smirking girls in the "Purebloods Only" boat.
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the Sorting Hat.
"And welcome to it," thought Daria, watching the girl happily follow a Slytherin prefect.
Not so many kids left to be sorted, thought Daria. They'll probably call me next.
This year's "L's" ended abruptly with "Lyons, Roderick," who got sorted into Gryffindor.
Daria expected that she'd soon be called and Sorted. She'd forgotten about the Celtic influence; many of the other kids had names that started with "Mac" or "Mc." Daria watched as they got sorted into one house or another. The last "mc" was followed by Meadowes, Wilson.
"Mitchell, William," read Professor McGonagall.
A tow-headed boy stepped away from the nervous line of unsorted First Years and strode up to the stool. He picked up the hat, smiled and waved at somebody at one of the tables, sat down on the stool and put on the hat. The hat waited only a moment before shouting "GRYFFINDOR!"
"I'm up next," thought Daria. "I'd better get ready." She shifted her feet and was a little surprised when the green-clad professor called "Morgan, Llewella" to be Sorted.
Morgan had just been led away from the Sorting Stool towards the Hufflepuff table when Professor McGonagall called "Morgendorffer, Daria."
Showtime, thought Daria.
Daria walked forward to the front of the hall and the stool with the Sorting Hat. She could see the dozens and dozens of students and dozens of pairs of eyes looking at her. For some reason she didn't know, she found herself remembering her disastrous dance recital back in Highland and began to feel the first faint tinges of panic. "Easy," she told herself, "Mrs. Crush isn't here, you don't have to do ballet steps here, you just have to put on the hat, sit down, let it speak, then take it off." (4)
To her annoyance, her palms were a little sweaty when she reached the stool. She carefully picked up the Sorting Hat then placed it over her head. The hat was several sizes too big for her and the brim dropped to her cheekbones. She heard a brief titter from the hall. She hadn't been the first kid this had happened to this evening, so it didn't bother her that much. Just ignore them and breathe, she told herself. She carefully felt around for the seat of the stool and sat down. The hat smelled old and smelly with the scent of ancient hair oil, dried mold, aged fabric and something she told herself was the scent of magic but she suspected probably wasn't.
She gave a brief start when she heard a voice inside her head.
"Well, well, well," said the hat. "What do we have here?"
"The Barksdale tree sends shoots in many different directions. You're the first shoot from your branch that's been seen hereabouts for a long, long time. Now let's take a look at you."
"You are extremely intelligent, oh my yes. You have a keen wit and a thirst for knowledge. You are not afraid of hard work. You don't suffer fools gladly. You have a talent for deception, and you can be ruthless when you feel you have to be. You are definitely your mother's daughter. In other days you'd do well in Slytherin."
"Yet I see your father in you as well. You have hidden wells of bravery. You also have the courage of your convictions and you would fight for your friends and family. So where to put you?" said the Hat.
The hat paused. Daria wondered if it was making up its mind. "Not very sociable, are you?" asked the hat.
"No," said Daria.
"Do you know what a Pure Blood is?" asked the Hat.
THAT question didn't follow. Daria wondered what that was all about. She knew that SHE wasn't a pure-blood.
She answered the hat anyway. "Yes," said Daria. "It's someone who is a descendant of wizarding stock for at least five generations."
She thought of her Dad and Grandma Ruth. She was certain they weren't. She was also pretty sure that her Mom's family hadn't produced any witches lately regardless of what her Mom occasionally said about Aunt Rita and Great-Aunt Sally, although for some reason she couldn't guess, she suspected that there might have been Barksdale witches much further back. After all, she'd seen two more recent examples sorted a short time earlier. If there were, though, the talent had been lost for generations in her mother's part of the family. How long? A century? Two centuries? Longer? She didn't know. She'd learned about some Pure Blood attitudes on the train and on the beach. Did she want to spend the next seven years living next to such snobby jerks? Unh-unh. No way.
Daria didn't like snobs. She'd already been put down by a couple of her eastern cousins for being a hick from Texas and she didn't like it. She didn't like being called "common" by some of the other girls or the whispered "mudblood" she'd overheard on the train. She didn't know what that word meant, but she could guess that it was an insult.
Being alone scared her. She knew she wasn't that social, but she'd like to have some friends. She'd become the odd girl out at James Ferguson Elementary School as her friends had gone on to Highland Middle School, drifted in different directions, and occasionally moved away. She hated it but endured it because she had no choice. An image of her dad looking miserable in a military school's cadet uniform briefly flittered into her consciousness but was interrupted by the hat.
"I see," said the Hat. "I'll put you where you belong, then."
"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.
The Hat's cry was startling, yet relieving at the same time. She'd been Sorted; her part in the Sorting Ceremony was about over. She was going to be a Ravenclaw. All she had to do now was let one of the other students lead her away to one of the four long tables and everybody else's attention would be on somebody else. For some reason Daria didn't know, she found herself smiling. She supposed she looked a little silly smiling under a hat brim that fell below the tip of her nose. "Get used to it, pardner," she thought.
Still feeling a little dazed, Daria took off the hat and slid off the stool. She looked at the throng of students seated at the four long tables, and curtseyed. The Ravenclaw table burst into applause and a few titters at Daria's gesture. Daria then gently placed the hat back on the stool. Her grandmother had had words with her to be careful with old things when she and her family had visited her house in Virginia a couple of years before. Grandma had said that they were precious and historical and that she should respect them for what they were.
A grinning Ravenclaw prefect led Daria to an empty place at the Ravenclaw table, while Mulliner, Audrey and Nash, Hespera were called and Sorted (5). Daria gingerly stepped over the bench and sat down. "Welcome to Hogwarts and Ravenclaw," said an older boy seated next to her. There were smiles, some quick "Hallo's". some handshakes, a couple of pats on the back, quick squeeze on the shoulder or two, but most of her new tablemates' attention was focused on the Sorting Ceremony. (6).
A short time later a Ravenclaw prefect seated Majda Paderewsky several places further down from Daria. Obviously, she, too, was Sorted into Ravenclaw. And that, Daria realized, was everybody from her compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Three people in her compartment had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and one into Hufflepuff.
Someone tapped the side of a goblet with a spoon, the sound amplified with magic. Professor Dumbledore stood up and walked over to the lectern. She might have been tempted to giggle at Professor Dumbledore's get-up back in Highland, but any urge to giggle had been knocked cold after the Headmaster's confrontation with Peeves.
"Welcome again to another year at Hogwarts School and welcome to our new first-years. But before we begin our banquet, let me say a few words: for those from wizarding families, we look forward to seeing you follow in your parents' footsteps. For those from non-Wizarding families, we look forward wo watching you discover a whole new world
"Let the Feast begin!" he said.
One moment the serving plates were empty; the next moment they were all covered in food.
People grew talkative at dinner. As the only Texan at her table, Daria had to field a lot of questions. Yes, she was an American. She did grow up in Texas, that's why she talked that way. She had attended Muggle schools before she came to Hogwarts. No, she hadn't driven an automobile; she was only eleven. Yes, she had ridden horses, but no, she wasn't a cowgirl. Most people she knew talked much like she did. No, she didn't own a gun, although she did fire one a few times. No, she hadn't always known that she was a witch. She grew up thinking she was a Muggle even though there was weird stuff happening around her and was surprised when someone from MACUSA's DMLE informed her that she was a witch. She didn't know, but she suspected that an owl had delivered her Hogwarts acceptance letter to Highland.
A couple of the older Ravenclaws asked her why she was at Hogwarts instead of at Ilvermorny or the Instituto in Campeche. Daria replied that she chose Hogwarts because she couldn't speak Spanish, which excluded the Instituto for her, and that she'd gotten a special grant to attend Hogwarts which covered tuition, meals, and boarding. The older students seemed to accept her explanation.
She'd learned from Martha that Hogwarts girls were roomed together by age. She decided to introduce herself to her prospective roommates. She nodded at Dahlia and Majda. She introduced herself to Cho Chang, who wasn't a Londoner but a Scot (6). She recognized Marietta Edgecombe as the girl from Madam Malkin's, Marietta was seated on the other side of Cho and didn't speak to her.
As the last dessert vanished from the plates and the serving dishes, Professor Dumbledore stood up. Professor McGonagall tapped the side of her goblet with a spoon and the hall fell silent.
"A few short words before we retire for the night," said Professor Dumbledore.
"First years should know that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. Older students should also remember that, too," he added, looking at someone over at the Gryffindor table.
"Second, Quidditch trials are to be held the second week of Term. Anyone interested in playing on House teams should speak to Madam Hooch."
"And now, before we go off to bed, let us sing the school song!"
"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."
Daria had a reflexive dislike for official songs, but she grudgingly admitted that this one wasn't half-bad. The effect was like the Austin Lounge Lizards' "Anahuac," which she'd heard several times back in Highland, helped along by the Weasley twins' singing it like an off-key funeral march.
Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly at the assembled students.
"A performance to remember!" he said. "Now off to bed! Prefects, take charge of your new first years!"
Footnotes
1 As was mentioned in Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years. The Three Stooges' bullying campaign didn't last very long, but it was traumatic.
2 Harry Potter's first encounter with ghosts in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone includes dialog where the ghosts were arguing about what to do about Peeves, Hogwarts Castle's resident poltergeist. The dialog made me wonder just what Peeves had been up to before Harry Potter arrived on September 1st of the following year. I decided that terrorizing newly-arrived first-years might be one of Peeves' stunts.
3 I'd fretted about writing a different Sorting Hat song since I wrote the first drafts of this particular passage a couple of years ago. I'm still not happy with the results, but it'll have to do.
4. Mrs. Crush was a horrible ballet teacher whose arrogance caused Daria to injure herself back in Highland.
(5) I realize that I might have pilfered the Banks surname from Mary Poppins.
I definitely pilfered the Mulliner surname from PG Wodehouse, and despite the fact that the Mulliners mentioned in various Wodehouse stories are almost all either deceased or well off-stage, I decided that some of the Mulliner clan's descendants still practice their forebears' behavior.
(6) Katie Leung, the actress who played Cho Chang in the Harry Potter movies, was raised in Scotland and has a Scottish accent. I chose to make her a Scot of Asian heritage.