"John? Are you alright?" Sam asks beside me. I take a shuddering breath and nod. There's no use panicking. I just need to find a way to address this. He hasn't noticed me yet, which means I still have the advantage. If you can consider anything being an advantage in this situation. I pull my eyes away from his face.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid calls, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Sam and I join Sarah and Emily, who've already found one. I avoid the conversation and turn my thoughts inward.
"Everyone in? Right then - FORWARD!" The boats glide away from the lakefront, and there's very little conversation from any of the other boats. I need to find a way around the inevitable before it becomes a big problem. What would Henri do? After five minutes, I have a suitable solution, one I think Henri would be proud of.
Zoning back into what's happening, I can't look up at the castle because Sam has just pushed me down.
"What the hell, Sam?!"
"Sorry," he grimaces. "You seemed totally zoned. It didn't look like you heard Hagrid before." A curtain of ivy drifts past, splitting around the boats and taking us into a dark tunnel. The boats stop when we reach a sort of underground harbour, and we climb out into the pebbly shore.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asks, holding up the amphibian from the boat he'd just checked. The boy from the train - Neville - cries out happily and takes his toad, 'Trevor', from the half-giant.
Hagrid leads us up a passageway in the rocks. We follow the light cast by the lamp over damp grass and up a flight of stone steps, finally crowding around a huge oak door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" He raises his fist and knocks, three loud resounding booms.
The door swings open at once. A stern-looking witch in emerald-green robes stands in the doorway. She's someone I don't want to get on the bad side of.
"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid says.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
The Entrance Hall is enormous, almost the size of a house. The walls are made of stone, marble staircases lead to upper levels, and torches line the walls, sending flickering shadows upwards to disappear into the abyss of the high ceiling.
Professor McGonagall leads us across the hall to a smaller empty room where we crowd together. I can hear the voices of hundreds of people through another giant door as we pass it.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," the Professor begins. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are as Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year the house with the most points is awarded 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," she pauses. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." With that, she leaves. I briefly wonder at what this 'sorting' could be about, but soon dismiss it. I have someone to find.
I search the packed crowd for the curly haired blond. When I find him, I excuse myself from Sam and wriggle my way through the students.
"Hey Justin," I say. My voice is a little shaky.
"Ian? You got a letter too, huh? I thought you'd left and I'd never see you again." I give a bit of a nervous laugh that I'm pretty sure sounds more like I'm going to vomit.
"Yeah, I thought the same. Look, I never told you this. Ian is my middle name, and Forth was my mother's surname. Just, didn't want to scare you or anything when you heard differently."
"What? Well then, what's your full name? And why were you going by Ian?" I laugh again.
"I was going by Ian because it was a bit more...ah.. British than John Smith. It was a blending thing. Apparently magic doesn't care when it enrolls you." I wince, waiting for some kind of bad reaction. However, I should have expected his reaction. It was Justin after all, cheerful friendly Justin. He just laughs and grins at me.
"That's understandable. It is going to take some getting used to calling you 'John' instead of Ian. I must say, it suits you better, Mr American." I smile with relief, some of my nerves relaxing, leaving behind less of a sick feeling.
Before I can leave the awkward conversation, the crowd gives a collective jump and there are several screams. Looking around, I can see why, and I let out a small involuntary squeak of shock. Pearly-white ghosts are drifting through the back wall, heading to where I think the Great Hall is.
"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -" A fat little monk says, cut off by another of his ghostly companions dressed in a ruff and tights.
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?" I think he'd finally noticed us. No one speaks, everyone silent with shock and awe and probably a little fear.
"New students! About to be sorted, I suppose?" The Fat Friar greets, and upon receiving a few muted nods, continues; "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."
Professor McGonagall returns and hurries the ghosts past, "Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to start." The ghosts drift through the wall into the Great Hall.
"Now, form a line, and follow me," the Professor instructs after a pause. I glance nervously at Justin, the realisation of what's coming finally sinking in. She then leads us back into the Entrance Hall and through a pair of large double doors.
Four long tables are arranged in parallel in the middle of the room, candles hovering mid-air above them. Older students are all seated, each of the four houses represented by coloured ties of the students and matching banners hanging over the tables. At the top of the Hall another long table stands, the staff of the school seated behind it. The ceiling of the space looks non-existent to the point I almost think there isn't one. I can see the night's sky perfectly, stars twinkling against the midnight blue.
There are hundreds of students staring at us. I try to ignore their gazes and focus on Professor McGonagall as she places a really old wizard's hat on a stool. I resist the urge to wince in disgust. Nobody is talking; there is absolute silence and everyone is watching the tattered dirty hat. Which has a mouth, which it opens and then begins to sing, the jagged tear moving animatedly.
"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 folks 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 Hall roars with applause as it finishes and bows to each of the tables, then returns to it's still state, making me wonder if I'm going crazy and hallucinated the whole thing. I notice Sam stick his head out of line in front of me, looking back to meet my eyes. The green shade his face had taken on since we entered the castle is turning to a more natural red shade with his relief at the task. I smile weakly at him.
A/N: :O dun dun duN! Okay I will continue to update this in the future, but I'm currently experiencing a block. I know where I want to go with this, but I'm just not getting there. I'm ahead by maybe 7 or 8 chapters, so you've still got that to look forward to for now. I'm sure I'll get past it, but just a warning of potential non-updatey-ness to come. R&R ! :D There's something in a name. Did anyone get it?
