There's nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can't see, is all that's going through my mind. Will it know about the Loric? My stomach is cramping up again and my throat's tight.
Professor McGonagall steps forwards, holding a long roll of parchment, similar to old comedies where the scroll rolls out ten feet or so, but not quite so long.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she says. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A blonde pigtailed head stumbles forward. When she puts the hat on it falls over her eyes. After a moment the hat shouts 'HUFFLEPUFF!' and Hannah Abbott takes her place at the cheering Hufflepuff table.
The names keep coming. Then, "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" is called out. Justin staggers past me to the stool and is sorted to Hufflepuff.
"Goode, Samuel!" A few snickers circulate the room and Sam walks up to the hat.
"GRYFFINDOR!" He joins the gold and red table.
"Granger, Hermione!" was also sent to Gryffindor. I watch her quickly engage Sam in a cheerful one-sided conversation.
"Hart, Sarah!"
Sarah moves up, a lot steadier than Sam. She looks at me as she pulls the hat on, biting her lip as it slides over her eyes. After a moment; "HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Hopkins, Wayne!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Hoyle, Margaret!" A small mousy girl nervously trips forwards to the hat. Her thick glasses prevent the hat from falling down her face. The hat takes almost two minutes to put her in 'RAVENCLAW!'
"James, Mark!" is the guy who was glaring at me on the station. He walks smugly to the silver and green of the Slytherin table.
"Knapp, Emily!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Longbottom, Neville!"
This kid was obviously going to be a favourite among the bullies. He trips over on the way to the stool. The Sorting Hat takes a long time to decide 'GRYFFINDOR', after which he walks off still wearing it. I feel sorry for him. The seated student body is howling with laughter.
More first-years are sorted, spread pretty evenly between the four houses.
"Potter, Harry!" Emily had said something about him on the train. Students were craning their necks and whispers filled the Hall, bringing it to an almost deafening pitch despite the quiet words. Less than a minute later, Harry Potter joins the Gryffindor table. A couple of them start chanting: 'we got Potter!'
"Smith, John!" My legs feel like they're very visibly shaking as I make my way up and sit on the stool. I'm glad that the hat does fall over my eyes when I put it on because of the eyes of the hundreds of students.
"Hmm, another one? Number Four, if I'm not mistaken," a voice whispers beside my ear. That feeling of cold dread returns. "Don't worry, little Garde. I'm only here to sort you. I will not and cannot share this with anyone, however I can warn you to keep your distance from another. Your charm is still intact, and we wouldn't want to break that, now would we? The best I can give you is to stay away from Ravenclaw in your year." The only reply I offer is a shaky breath and a mental nod.
"Now, your sorting⦠You have an interesting mind, Mr Smith. You are very loyal to those who become your friends, and yet you display great courage. You would be great in both Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Tricky. Hufflepuff will give you the friends you will need and build your trusts for the future⦠yes, I think that'll do. HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat screeches. I shrink back at the yell in my ear. Relief belatedly washes over me and I pull the hat off, walking over to a seat next to Sarah at the rightmost table.
"Smith, Zacharias!" I'm not sure what to think. He's sorted into Hufflepuff as well and sits a few seats down, surveying my curiously.
The sortings finish with a "Zabini, Blaise" sent to Slytherin. Professor McGonagall takes the Sorting Hat and the scroll away. I meet Sam's gaze on the Gryffindor table. He looks a bit overwhelmed and lost. Some of the other first-years around him are talking animatedly.
"So, I- John, you have some secret twin I didn't know about?" Justin asks beside me lowly, gesturing with his chin at Zacharias.
"Nope," I say brightly back, maybe a little too enthusiastically. "Never seen him before in my life," I add.
"You two know each other?" Sarah asks curiously.
"Yeah, I met Ia-John at school for the three months he was there last year. Justin Finch-Fletchley." I glare at him. He seems aware of his slip up and winces apologetically.
"Sarah Hart, pleased to meet you." She smiles at him, but she looks a little troubled and glances at me. She shifts her gaze up to the Ravenclaw table to find Emily. Our attentions are all drawn to the front of the Hall as an old man with a lot of silver hair stands up, his beard hanging down around his belt. I can't help but wonder at how long he took to grow it.
"Welcome!" he says, beaming around at the students with his arms out. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sits back down. I feel a little slack-jawed. People are clapping and must be the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He seems a little...odd, to say it nicely. I shake the thoughts off as the students go back to conversations.
I turn back to the table and catch Sarah watching me curiously. As soon as she notices she turns away and her cheeks colour a little.
The empty dishes that had lined the table when we arrived are now stacked high with foods of all kinds. Roast meats, potatoes, salads, gravy, sausages, vegetables and so many other things. I barely know where to start. There's not much conversation for about two minutes as we're all stuffing our faces with the amazing meals.
The Fat Friar ghost from the Entrance hall drifts down through the table with a cheery smile.
"New Hufflepuffs! Welcome, young first-years. Ready to help us win the House Cup?" he says as he floats past, heading towards the older students up the table. That seems to spark conversation between the unacquainted first-years. The first girl sorted, Hannah, speaks up, introducing herself. Everyone else follows suit, myself included.
Soon enough, Ernie jumps on my accent and begins asking about America and my life.
"'John Smith' is the most typical American name there is. How much did you get picked on when you came over here?" he asks with a grin. I make a quick decision to share the explanation I made for Justin.
"Well, my middle name's Ian, and my mother's last name was Forth, so I tried to avoid the whole 'John Smith typical American' thing by going by Ian Forth. In the last month I came to terms with my horrible fate," I answer him with a bit of a grin of my own.
"You were a weird Ian," Justin chipped in. Susan looks at him in confusion.
"We both went to the same muggle school for a few months," I explain.
"Why did you leave the States?" Sarah asks.
I shrug. "Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. It's just me and my dad." I'm saved from more interrogations by the arrival of desserts, replacing the meats as they fade away. I scoop some apple pie onto my plate with some purple icecream.
The conversation turns away from me and onto magic.
"I accidentally threw a ball through my bedroom window when I was six. I got so scared of my mum finding out that the window fixed itself," Hannah recounts. We laugh.
"Hey Ian - sorry, John, do you remember when Mr Harris' chalk started writing on the blackboard when he was about to give me detention? I don't know if that was you or me who did that, and then there was that Tyrese guy, his hair turned into a fluoro green afro when he was bullying that kid," Justin says animatedly. I smile at him in return, but inwardly I'm squirming uncomfortably.
The others continue to share their stories of accidental magic. Sarah made a fruit tree go all floppy so she could reach its branches when she was four. Zacharias tells about how his first bit of magic was when he was three, when he enlarged his pug to the size of a retriever.
No one asks me about my magic - I'm not keen on sharing my first memory of it. I thought I had just been really scared at the time, and hallucinated. Henri hadn't mentioned it afterwards. After I got One's scar, when I woke screaming, the whole room seemed to be shaking. I dismissed the broken lightbulb in the bedside lamp as thrashing. Now I know it probably wasn't.
The Headmaster stands up again and all conversation dies.
"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." He pauses and I follow his eyes to two boys with flaming red hair and identical faces. I vaguely remember them from the station, blocking my view of Henri. At the same table there are two other similar redheads, though not with quite the same resemblance.
The Headmaster - Dumbledore, I think - continues.
"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." He pauses for a moment. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Hannah laughs a little at this, one of a few. Many of the other students have odd looks on their faces, halfway between amused and troubled. The desserts fade off the plates, leaving them sparkling and clean.
"And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" and with that, we're dismissed. An older student makes his way down to our end of the table.
"Congratulations! I'm prefect Gabriel Truman, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Hufflepuff House. Please, follow me, I'll show you to the Hufflepuff common room, and from there, your dorms," the boy says. We get up from our places, shuffling tiredly but contently behind Gabriel. He leads us out of the Hall, down flights of stairs past portraits that move, similarly to the chocolate frog cards from the train. He talks as he walks, telling us about Hufflepuff over his shoulder enthusiastically as he leads us through the spectacular castle.
"Our emblem is the badger, an animal that is often underestimated, because it lives quietly until attacked, but which, when provoked, can fight off animals much larger than itself, including wolves. Our house colours are yellow and black, and our common room lies one floor below the ground, on the same corridor as the kitchens.
Now, there are a few things you should know about Hufflepuff house. First of all, let's deal with a perennial myth about the place, which is that we're the least clever house. WRONG. Hufflepuff is certainly the least boastful house, but we've produced just as many brilliant witches and wizards as any other. Want proof? Look up Grogan Stump, one of the most popular Ministers for Magic of all time. He was a Hufflepuff - as were the successful Ministers Artemesia Lufkin and Dugald McPhail. Then there's the world authority on magical creatures, Newt Scamander; Bridget Wenlock, the famous thirteenth-century Arithmancer who first discovered the magical properties of the number seven, and Hengist of Woodcroft, who founded the all-wizarding village of Hogsmeade, which lies very near Hogwarts School. Hufflepuffs all.
So, as you can see, we've produced more than our fair share of powerful, brilliant and daring witches and wizards, but, just because we don't shout about it, we don't get the credit we deserve. Ravenclaws, in particular, assume that any outstanding achiever must have come from their house. I got into big trouble during my third year for duelling a Ravenclaw prefect who insisted Bridget Wenlock had come from his house, not mine. I should have got a week of detentions, but Professor Sprout let me off with a warning and a box of coconut ice."
He slows when we approach a large painting of fruit.
"This is the entrance to the kitchens. The basement isn't far past here. If you ever want to get into the kitchens, tickle the pear." His voice is honest but his eyes glint with liveliness. He smiles and continues on, finally stopping in front of a shadowy recess in the stone wall, stacked with large barrels. The prefect turns to face us.
"This is the entrance into the Hufflepuff common room," Gabriel explains. He gets a few apprehensive glances in response. "Now, it's important you remember how to get in. Tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff', and the lid will swing open. We are the only house at Hogwarts that also has a repelling device for would-be intruders. If the wrong lid is tapped, or if the rhythm of the tapping is wrong, the illegal entrant is doused in vinegar."
He opens the barrel. It seems simple enough. He motions for us to enter the tunnel; where he would be forced to crawl, some of us are small enough to walk through it stooped over.
"You will hear other houses boast of their security arrangements, but it so happens that in more than a thousand years, the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories have never been seen by outsiders. Like badgers, we know exactly how to lie low - and how to defend ourselves" Gabriel talks as we file into the tunnel entrance.
"Once you've opened the barrel, crawl inside and along the passageway behind it, and you will emerge into the cosiest common room of them all. It is round and earthy and low-ceilinged; it always feels sunny, and its circular windows have a view of rippling grass and dandelions."
Inside, it's exactly how Gabriel described it. Emerging from the upwards slope of the tunnel, warm bumblebee colours greet us. A fireplace with an carved mantel sits in a wall, and a large painting of a woman hangs above it, smiling and toasting her goblet. Plants are hanging from the ceiling and sitting perched on the windowsills. Some cacti on curved shelves are moving about. The wood of the tables and doors is honey-coloured, adding to the warmth of the space. The circular windows high up the walls are currently dark with the night outside.
Sarah and I join the group in the middle of the room as Gabriel emerges from the tunnel, bring up the rear of the group. He continues again with his enlivened speech.
"Hufflepuffs are trustworthy and loyal. We don't shoot our mouths off, but cross us at your own peril; like our emblem, the badger, we will protect ourselves, our friends and our families against all-comers. Nobody intimidates us."
"However, it's true that Hufflepuff is a bit lacking in one area. We've produced the fewest Dark wizards of any house in this school. Of course, you'd expect Slytherin to churn out evil-doers, seeing as they've never heard of fair play and prefer cheating over hard work any day, but even Gryffindor (the house we get on best with) has produced a few dodgy characters."
"Our Head of house, Professor Pomona Sprout, is Head of Herbology, and she brings the most interesting specimens (some of which dance and talk) to decorate our room - one reason why Hufflepuffs are often very good at Herbology," he gestures to the plants around the room, some of which wave at us.
"Our house ghost is the friendliest of them all: the Fat Friar. You'll recognise him easily enough; he's plump and wears monk's robes, and he's very helpful if you get lost or are in any kind of trouble."
"I think that's nearly everything. I must say, I hope some of you are good Quidditch players. Hufflepuff hasn't done as well as I'd like in the Quidditch tournament lately."
"You should sleep comfortably. We're protected from storms and wind down in our dormitories; we never have the disturbed nights those in the towers sometimes experience. And once again: congratulations on becoming a member of the friendliest, most decent and most tenacious house of them all." With that, he directs the girls to the door on the left and the boys to the door on the right.
I say goodnight to Sarah and fall into step beside Justin. The only sounds as we find our beds, our luggage already brought up, are the sounds of exhaustion. I let Hadley out of his cage, and he immediately jumps up onto the patchwork quilt on my bed. I get changed and into bed, but I can't fall asleep. The heavy breathing around me indicates the others were pretty drained from the day's ordeal.
My mind's wandering through the memories of the events; the friends I've hopefully made in Sam and Sarah, then finding Justin and the implications of that encounter. The Sorting and the Sorting Hat knowing I'm Loric. How it revealed there was another Loric kid in Ravenclaw. I need to write to Henri as soon as I can.
I stare at the ceiling for a good hour or so before sleep finally takes me, though I find little rest.
A/N: Okay here's the next one. I used the HP wikia for the characters - Still really not sure about including Wayne, Megan and Zacharias. Ah, tell me what you think?
