The Great Hall loomed overhead. The dancing candles felt like they were shining to the back of her head. Under foot the gorgeous oak with honey wood floor glimmered. Each step felt like you were sliding along the long room. The night was dark, typical September weather, dark sky, no clouds to be seen. It was barely evening, so no stars. The air felt like it prickled skin, the energy brimming like a song which hadn't quite reached the climax.
It was beautiful, breath-taking really. Issy really hated it. Hated every fucking laugh that bounced around her skull like a basketball. She wanted to scream and shout and pull her hair and tell them all to please shut up. But that probably wouldn't be the best impression to set to the people she was supposed to eat, sleep, breathe with 24 fucking 7.
So, she waited. Waited while the weird hat that her grandma would have scorned at, sang a song that lasted what felt like a lifetime. Her grandma always made sure Issy's clothes looked brand new. But apparently nobody had thought to even wash the grimy thing that she was supposed to put onto her head. She barely caught any of the lyrics if you could even call them that. The boy next to her was positively shaking with anticipation, Issy rolled her eyes internally. What an idiot.
Finally, her classmates began being called up. Adams; Gryffindor, Baker; Hufflepuff so on so. Each was awarded with a round of cheers from the table they joined. The Gryffindor table would latch onto the newbie with a continuous stream of questions. Oh God, Issy looked up fleetingly, I know I've never done this but please don't let me be a Gryffindor.
'Locket, Isabelle'. And her name was called, Issy dropped her hands which had crept up to her chest. Eyes on the stool, one foot in front on the other. Walk with a purpose, she reminded herself, walk like you're going places. One flick of her hair over her shoulder and she had reached the stool. One look she allowed herself. What seemed like hundreds and thousands of eyes gleamed back at her. She couldn't hear the whispers from where she sat but she knew what they would contain.
Ah, a Locket. Issy squirmed in her stool. Ah yes, the hat was supposed to decide how her life would go for the next 7 years of her life. A piece of cloth. Suddenly, Issy felt like maybe she should have stayed on the train back to London. Well, aren't you a interesting one? Enough courage to be a Gryffindor, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the smarts of a Ravenclaw. But yes, the heart of a Slytherin. Yes. You've certainly got the manipulation skills, that's for sure. Not manipulative, Issy breathed, persuasive. Interesting, you have an interesting perspective young Locket. You are inspired by the fear of being average. You'll do anything to achieve your ends. SLYTHERIN.
Issy jumped, the sorting hats words echoing. How dare it, thinking it knew what she was like. It was positively hilarious, she thought. How can it think it can see inside her head? Issy slinked towards the further table on the right. There was an open place at the end of the narrow table. Sitting there, Issy felt completely exposed. She knew nobody had heard what the Hat had said to her but the funny feeling in her stomach was still knotting. The other first years offered handshakes and nods. They gave their names but Issy was barely listening. These people wouldn't matter, unless they were needed.
She glanced up the table. There was a blonde boy, two tables up. He glanced up momentarily making eye contact with her. He rolled his eyes slowly and lazy smirk resting on his lips. A surge of relief went through Issy. She rolled her eyes back, mimicking the smirk he held. The knot in her stomach released ever so slightly. She knew it wouldn't leave completely for some time. Not whilst the truth in the Hat's words were still fresh.