I am not J.K Rowling just yet but the Polyjuice potion is coming along well. It will be done soon.

Sorry about the wait. I went camping and then my word refused to load for me. I'm also probably going to start doing another story between this one and alternating chapters between weeks so the wait will be a bit longer.😔

Chapter Seven

The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald, green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and the Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross, while Circe's first thought was that it'd be wise not to be caught by her if she did get caught.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big that you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. The twins could hear the drone of a hundred voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be like something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitories and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule braking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most house points is rewarded the house cup, a great honour. 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."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Ron, who still had a smudge of dirt on his nose, Naomi, whose robes were covered in mud somehow, and Neville whose cloak was fastened under his left ear. Harry tried to nervously flatten his hair, while Circe tried to tidy up the hurried, messy bun it had been in all day and was now falling out of.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Circe asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he hadn't been able to do any magic yet, unlike Circe – what on earth would they have to do? Neither of the twins had expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified too, apart from his sister and Hermione Granger, who were both looking excited. No one was talking much. Harry had never been more nervous in his life, never, not even when he and Circe had to take their school reports home to the Dursleys that said they'd somehow turned made their teacher's wig continuously flash between blue and see-through. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, McGonagall would come through it to lead him to his doom. He would be kicked out and he and Circe would be separated and he'd probably never see her again.

"Calm down, Harry. Your panic's starting to affect me. Anyway, I'd leave if you didn't get in. And they're not going to set anything that we can't do, anyway. Remember what Hagrid said? Everyone starts from the beginning at Hogwarts." Circe's calm voice of reason dispersed his panicky thoughts. Of course they wouldn't set anything that people that didn't know any magic couldn't do, because then no muggleborns would be able to get in, and didn't Hagrid say their mum was one.

"Hang on. How did you know I thought we'd be separated? Can you read my mind?" Harry asked, confused.

"Sometimes," Circe admitted, "I can't control it, though, and there isn't much of a pattern."

"Huh."

Then something happened which made Harry jump about five feet in the air and several people behind him screamed. Circe, however, somehow wasn't caught by surprise and she just casually waved to the twenty ghosts that had just streamed through the back wall.

"Come on, people! Did none of you read the set books? It says in Hogwarts: a history, that Hogwarts is the proud home to over a hundred ghosts." Her statement was met with embarrassed silence.

Pearly white and transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and a few waved back to her. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say. We ought to give him a second chance - "

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us a bad name and you know he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely, while Circe said (loudly, of course, since that seemed to be her natural setting when she wasn't talking about something privet or secret), "Yeah. What's the best house?"

"They are all equal, my dear," said the Friar, "But I hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a stern voice, "The sorting ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGonagall told the first years.

Still feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, despite what Circe said to him, Harry got into line with Ron in front of him and Circe behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The twins had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating in mid-air 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. McGonagall led the first years up here, so they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, 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. Mainly to avoid the staring eyes, the twins looked upwards and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. They overheard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the great hall didn't simply open onto the heavens.

The twins looked quickly down as McGonagall silently place a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed a pointed hat. The hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty, with a rip near the brim. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought, wildly - That seemed the sort of thing. It didn't seem to hard, and Circe didn't seem to have any idea what to do with it: she was just staring at it, intently. Noticing that everyone else in the hall was now staring at the hat, too, he stared at it as well. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. Then the rip near the brim opened wide, like a mouth and 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 as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to the twins. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Circe snorted and Harry managed a weak grin. Yes, trying on a hat was much better than having to cast a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick witted or any of the other stuff at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy; that would have been the one for him. Circe, meanwhile, was also glad that they didn't have to cast a spell, since she didn't fancy everyone watching her do it, although she was excited at the prospect of a talking hat. She figured she'd be in the same house as Harry since, despite what he thought, their personalities were quite similar, and all the Weasleys had been in the same house so far.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the far left stood up and clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy," went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender," became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; the twins could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent," then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was the twins' imaginations, after all they'd heard about Slytherin, but they thought they looked an unpleasant lot.

Harry was definitely starting to feel sick now, while Circe couldn't wait. He remembered being picked for teams during his old school sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, along with Circe, which usually meant they were on different teams, not because they were no good (they were actually better than Dudley at most things), but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked them.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, the twins noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others, it took a little longer to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy haired boy in front of Ron in the line sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he had to go home? What if -

"Enough with the 'what ifs'. It's getting really annoying, y'know. Even if you're not sorted, which is very unlikely, I hardly think they'll just chuck you out. They'll probably assign you a house or let you choose or something."

Harry calmed down as he was once again brought back to reality by Circe's calm reason.

When Naomi Longbottom, one of the twins who kept losing their toad, was called, she fell over on her way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with her. When it finally shouted 'GRYFFINDOR', she put it back on the stool and scurried off to the Gryffindor table. Her twin, Neville, almost fell on his way up to the stool, as well, but managed t catch himself just in time. It took only a bit less time for the hat to choose where he went. When he made his way to the Gryffindor table to sit beside his sister, he was still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to, "MacDougal, Morag".

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon... Nott... Parkinson..." then a pair of twin girls, "Patil," and "Patil"... then "Perks, Sally-Anne"… and then, at last -

"Potter, Circe!"

As Circe stepped forwards, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Circe Potter?"

The last thing Circe saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second, she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

"Hmmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, and chivalry, I see, but you have a very bright young mind. Cunning and sly, when you need to be, like a Slytherin, but kindness and loyalty like Helga Hufflepuff's herself. You are a fine mixture of both your parents' best talents, young lady, but you have something that neither of them did, at least, not in this quantity. A certain thirst to prove yourself, perhaps? That suits Slytherin.

"Oh, no, please don't put me in Slytherin. I'd have to share a house with that brat, and I know for a fact that Harry would never be able to go there."

"Ah, not Slytherin, then? It is hardly a question of where to put you, now, despite your many traits. GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted the last word to all of the occupants of the great hall, and Circe felt that it had barely been a second since she put the hat on, but her legs were already walking her over to the cheering and clapping table and sitting her next to the Weasleys. Percy was shaking her hand, while the Weasley twins were shouting "WE GOT POTTER PART ONE! WE GOT POTTER PART ONE!"

Circe whooped and yelled:

"Yes! Gryffindor!" and then looked up at the stool as her brother was pulling the hat on to his head.

"Interesting. You are like your sister in many ways, but she is casting a shadow onto you. You have bravery that could easily land you in Gryffindor with her, and not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes – and a nice thirst to learn about the magical world, now that is interesting... So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool, and Circe was getting worried because he was taking even longer than Hermione Granger had.

"With my sister, please with her." Harry thought.

"With your sister, eh?" Said the small voice. "Well, if you must, and it is the house best suited for you, but you could do brilliant in Ravenclaw, especially dragged out of your sister's shadow. It's all here in your head, and Ravenclaw will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole school. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, that he hardly noticed that he got the loudest cheer yet. Percy the prefect got up and shook his hands vigorously, while the twins yelled, "WE GOT POTTER PART TWO! WE GOT POTTER PART TWO!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff they'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling of plunging his arm into a bucket of ice-cold water.

The twins could see the high table clearly now. At the end nearest them sat Hagrid, who caught their eyes and gave them the thumbs up. The twins grinned back and there, in the centre f the high table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. The twins recognised him immediately from the card Harry had gotten out of the chocolate frog from the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole room that shone as brightly as the ghosts. They spotted Professor Quirrell, too; the nervous young man from the leaky cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Turpin, Lisa!" became a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Both the twins cressed their fingers under the table for him, and they had a suspicion that the other Weasleys did too, despite the Weasleys twins' attitudes. A second later, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The twins clapped loudly, along with the rest of the Gryffindors as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Circe.

"Well done, Ron. Excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across the twins as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the sorting hat away.

The twins looked down at their empty golden plates. They had only just realised how hungry they were. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms open wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin out banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

Thank you,"

He sat back down and everybody clapped and cheered. Most of the fist years, including both the twins, didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he – a bit mad?" Harry asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius. Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The golden dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He'd never seen so many things he like to eat on one table: roast turkey, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs.

The Dursleys had never exactly starve the twins, but they'd never been allowed to eat as much as they'd have liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it had made him sick, and Circe only ever got to eat hers and Dudley's vegetables, since the Dursleys made sure there was meat in everything else, because meat, as well as sweets, was what Dudley like the best. Harry glanced over at Circe and saw that she had already filled her plate with veg and Yorkshire puddings and the likes, so he piled his plated with a bit of everything except the mint humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good, said the ghost sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you -?" asked Circe.

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years, said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer to be called Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this." he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled at it. His whole head swung off his neck and fell on his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at all the stunned looks on most of the faces around him, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed and said "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor have never gone so log without a win. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."

The twins looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there with blank, staring eyes, a gaunt face, robes stained with silver blood and he was tied up with chains. He was right next to Malfoy who, to the amusement and pleasure of both the twins, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood and chains?" asked Circe with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nich delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the puddings appeared. Big blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could imagine, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, rice pudding...

As the twins helped themselves to a treacle tart and a jam doughnut respectively, the conversation turned to families.

"I'm half and half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a muggle, mam didn't tell him she was a witch until after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

Everyone laughed.

"What about you, Neville and Naomi?" said Ron.

"Well, our Gran brought us up and she's a witch," said Neville.

"But the family thought we were all muggles for ages." continued Naomi.

"Our great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch us off guard and force some magic out of us." continued Neville.

"He pushed us off of Blackpool Pier once; we nearly drowned" interjected Naomi.

"But nothing happened until we were eight." went on Neville.

"Great Uncle Algie was hanging Neville out of the window by his ankles when he came round for tea once, then Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue." proceeded Naomi.

"He accidently let go, but I bounced all the way through the garden and into the road. Everyone was really pleased. Gran was crying." carried on Neville.

"And you should have seen their faces when we got in here - they thought we might not have enough magic, even though we were twins, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased, he bought us our toads." finished Naomi.

On the twins' other side, Percy and Hermione were talking about lessons. (I do hope they start straight away: there's so much to learn. I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult -"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles, and that sort of thing -")

The twins, who were starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking deeply to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy, black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hooked nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban, straight into Circe's eyes, and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Circe's left shoulder.

"Ow," Circe muttered, clapping a hand to her shoulder.

"What is it?" asked Harry, who was the only one who had noticed.

"My scar." she said.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling that had come from the teacher's look – a feeling that he knew the twins already...

Well, everyone did, but this felt like it was on a deeper scale.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" she asked Percy, leaning over Harry to do it.

"Oh, you know the new DADA teacher already, do you? There's a new one every year, you know. People say it's a curse, but that's all nonsense, if you ask me. Just a coincidence. No wonder he's looking so nervous; that's Professor Snape. He teaches potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

The twins watched Snape for a while, but he didn't look at either of them again.

At last, the puddings, too, disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.

First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that, as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley Twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used in the corridors between classes.

Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact the house captains. Their names can be found on your common room noticeboards.

And, finally, I must tell you that, this year, the third-floor corridor on the right is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

The twins laughed, but they were some of the few that did.

"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts; everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. The twins noticed that all the other teacher's smiles, except for one odd, rather creepy teacher wearing massive glasses and a million scarves and beads who was sitting on the end, had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long, golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snake like, into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "And off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"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 off 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."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and, when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here at Hogwarts. And now, bedtime! Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy and an unfamiliar blonde girl through the chattering crowds, out of the great hall and up the marble staircase.

Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was too tired and too full of food. Circe helped him up the staircases, mainly with teasing phrases and reason, such as, "Be careful not to eat that much every night: you'll turn into Dudley." But Harry could tell that she was hiding sleepiness under her teasing façade. Both the twins were too sleepy to even be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that, twice, the two Prefects led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and the twins were just wondering how much further they had to go, when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air, ahead of them and, as Percy took a step towards them, they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," the blonde girl whispered to the first years with a voice like honey, "A poltergeist."

Percy raised his voice to talk to Peeves.

"Peeves, show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh," he said, with an evil cackle, "Ickle firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them, dangling the walking sticks below him. They all ducked, but Naomi wasn't quite quick enough because of her sleepy state so she got hit on the head. It wasn't hard enough to bruise, but it made her cry out anyway.

"The Bloody Baron will be hearing about that, Peeves! I mean it!" said the blonde, in a surprisingly angry voice.

"She was the one that didn't duck fast enough," Peeves protested.

But he stuck out his tongue and vanished anyway, dropping the walking sticks on Naomi and Neville's heads. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him. He won't even listen to us Prefects! Here we are."

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room: a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory, and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers – Circe found a room with five fourposter beds hung with deep red, velvet curtains and a trunk at the bottom of each. She quickly pulled on her pyjamas and brushed her teeth before quickly shouting goodnight to everyone, pretending to go to bed straight away and then sneaking out and up to the boy's dormitory. It was practically identical to her own, but the beds were on the other side of the wall.

"Budge up," she said, pushing her brother to the other side of his bed since he hadn't bothered to close his curtains properly.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in here?" asked Ron, quietly through the hangings. "In case you haven't noticed, this is the boy's dorm, and you seem to be a girl."

"There's no way I'm sleeping in the same dorm as Miss Bossy-Two-Shoes and The Squealers. Did you hear them when the ghosts came through the wall? I swear the brown haired one reached a pitch higher than it's possible to hear."

"Oh right. Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to both the twins. "Get off, Scabbers. He's chewing my sheets."

Harry was about to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.

"He's fallen asleep already." Circe informed Ron, but there was no reply and she guessed that he'd also fallen asleep. She rolled over and shut her eyes, but it was a while before she was able to actually fall asleep.

Perhaps one of the twins had eaten a bit too much, because they had a very strange dream. They were wearing Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to them, telling them they must transfer to Slytherin at once because it was their destiny. The twins told the turban they didn't want to be in Slytherin, but it put them there anyway, and then started to get heavier and heavier when they protested – and then then there was Malfoy, laughing at them as they struggled with it – then he turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold – there was a burst of green light and both the twins woke, simultaneously, sweating and shaking.

Harry rolled over and fell asleep again, but Circe couldn't forget it that easily and she stayed awake for half the night, thinking about it, before having tiredness eventually catch up with her again. When they woke the next morning, neither of them could remember it at all.