The Sorting Hat
I knew neither how many people were on this train station with me nor how big this train station was, to begin with. I couldn't even remotely see it. What I did see were so many different pairs of shoes that I could say with certainty there had to be a lot of students here. All the time, someone was bumping into me, which led to me bumping into someone else. This chain probably continued all the way through the entire crowd. A quick glance around me revealed that Jacques was still next to me, and I was sure I could spot Anthony's dark hair a few heads in front of me. It was like some hidden force was pulling us all in one direction - the exit of the train station.
The older students seemed to know exactly what to do, while the first-year students were always in someone's way like a group of feeble-minded sheep. The chatter grew louder and louder the closer we got to some iron gate, and then all of a sudden, it was stopped by a loud voice shouting "Quiet!"
We turned around, in shock, to see who that voice belonged. In front of the iron gate stood a man with a long brown beard. It was held together by a golden brooch and hanging over his dark blue coat. His gaze was directed behind the entire crowd of students as if he were looking for someone. Still, he avoided looking at any of us directly.
"First-year students, follow me!" he called out, and a bunch of 11-year-olds made their way over to gather in front of the man.
Once the noise of tens of dozen shoes on the cobbled floor had settled, he continued.
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I am Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster, and I will escort you to Hogwarts."
He looked at us over his glasses, an elegant model with a slim metal frame, and smiled.
"Now, I will ask you to find a partner and ensure that partner stays next to you the entire way to the castle. I do not recommend straying from the path, and I especially warn you from entering the forest we will pass."
Someone in the crowd complained in a hissed voice, indicating that all of this was nonsense, but looking at the tall, dark trees bordering the path, I found Dumbledore's recommendations quite reasonable.
Jacques quickly took place next to me. Zoe and Anthony were walking in front of us. I couldn't see the other girl from our compartment on the train, Claire, but I wasn't surprised. She had been relatively small. Dumbledore turned around and waved his hand, motioning us to follow him. His hair was the same brown color as his beard, with some greys growing from his temples.
He strutted along the path with expansive steps. As we turned around a curve, the most magnificent view I'd ever seen in my entire life presented itself. Across a dark, quiet lake was a hill, and on that hill was a vast castle that could have fit the entirety of Little Hangleton inside its walls, with countless lights and high towers in every corner. There were a dozen surprised screams and screeches from the group of students.
Only now I realized the boats towed up to a jetty. Dumbledore again turned toward us and waved his hand, beckoning the last students to join the group.
"Please, form groups of four and get into a boat. You don't have to do anything; the boats will do the work for you." He smirked.
Before I knew it, Jacques, Tony, and Zoe pushed me toward one of the boats and got behind me. I don't know whether they realized how terrified I was of the other students or whether they knew how much I appreciated them sticking to me. Still, the relieved expression on my face must have spoken volumes.
"Are you nervous, Noel?" Zoe asked, directed at me, yet her voice sounded like she was in a faraway dream.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I don't know," I replied. "I think I'm just not used to that many people. I come from a tiny village, you know."
I smiled, and although I was pretty sure she wasn't entirely convinced of my answer, she turned towards the castle and switched the conversation topic. She and Tony were taking guesses as to who would make it into which house and who would be best in which subjects. With an ever-increasing heart rate, I watched the little boats make their way over the black, smooth water. I got the impression they knew their goal precisely. Although my parents had used magic in front of me countless times, it still fascinated me; yes, it downright captivated me.
Now the boats made their way through a curtain of leaves and into a dimly lit cave. We docked on a stony bank, and Dumbledore motioned us to get out of the boats and take formation in the groups of two we had previously formed.
"Stay together, so no one gets lost along the way. Nothing in the castle is out to harm you, but sometimes, it wants to play."
He chuckled and then lit the tip of his wand to light up the way. We passed through an unassuming wooden door and found ourselves no longer in a cave but a stone passage with torches on the walls. They lit up in front of us and went out as soon as the entire group of students passed them. A cold wind blew through the passage, making me draw my robes closer around my body. Jacques, who was still next to me, must have felt the same way as his lips trembled.
Finally, we moved around one more corner, and the coldness and lack of hospitality of the narrow stone passage were wiped from our minds. We were now standing in a vast entrance hall, with a meter-high oaken gate on one side, which I assumed to be the regular main entrance to the castle. To its left, there was another extensive door that Dumbledore was making his way toward with long strides. The entrance hall was so broad that his steps were almost swallowed by the sheer size of it, and his bellowing cloak made it seem as if he was floating. I couldn't help but chuckle.
Shortly before arriving at the large door, Dumbledore stopped abruptly and turned to the side, where he opened a small door I hadn't even seen before he touched it. He brought us into a smaller room and waited until all first-year students had assembled in a group in front of him, looking at us with sharp eyes and an ever-so-faint smile on his lips. The tension and nervousness of the students were so present that you could almost pluck them out of the air.
"You will soon enter the Great Hall," he said and gestured toward the door behind him. "You will find four long tables, each representing one of Hogwart's houses. Before you can take your seats at one of those tables, you will have to sit through the Sorting Ceremony where the best house for you will be determined. You will either belong to Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Each house has its own unique history that is your task to honor. By adhering to the rules and engaging in classes, you can get points for your house and thus increase its ranking in the House Cup. The house with the most points wins the Cup at the end of the school year. But, be warned! Points will also be deducted for inappropriate behavior such as breaking the rules."
Now the whispers and murmurs grew loud along the group of first-years. I heard someone boast about knowing that the way to make it into Gryffindor House was to fight a fully grown mountain troll, a task he had complete self-assurance he could manage. A girl with a pesky high voice started talking about everything she had already learned to excel at the Ravenclaw admission exam. And I was right in the middle and didn't even know which house I wanted to be in - never mind which house I would belong in.
I had been thinking about this problem ever since the moment I tore apart the letter I wrote to Dippet and had thus started to face the truth - that I, Noel Snow, would from the 1st of September this year visit a school with hundreds of other people who knew nothing of my secret. Aurora was a Gryffindor, but I quickly reasoned that I wouldn't have the guts to follow in her lead. I wasn't particularly cunning or determined to reach my goals (mainly because I didn't really have any), so I also crossed Slytherin off my imaginary list. I couldn't speak to my loyalty or willingness to help others; after all, today was the first day I had ever talked to someone my age. The only house left was Ravenclaw, which at least was somewhat fitting as I was eager to learn new things and had taught myself how to read and write.
Dumbledore asked us to be quiet upon entering the Great Hall. Feeling a sense of seriousness now hanging in the air, all the students obediently followed his orders and fixed their eyes on the door behind him that was now slowly opening. The air was filled with the laughter and murmur of the older students sitting at their tables. I pinned my gaze to the floor and more or less blindly followed the others as we walked down the space between two of the tables. The slightly excited anticipation I had bravely allowed myself to feel earlier had vanished, and what remained was absolute horror. I would never be able to survive one day here without acting like a complete lunatic who was always either starting at his feet or up at the clouds when walking about and never talked to anyone except the four people he met on his very first day.
Only when the other first-years around me stopped moving, I dared to look up again. We were standing in front of the teacher's table at the front of the Great Hall. In front of it was a small stool, on top of which lay an ugly, worn-out hat. People around me started talking about the purpose of this. They were questioning each other about how that fit into the stories they heard about admission exams when suddenly, one of the hat's folds started moving, and then the hat started singing.
I was too perplexed to fully understand what was going on. Yes, the hat was actually singing a song! It was about the four houses of Hogwarts and how despite their differences, the four founders of Hogwarts had found a way to work together and respect each other and their characteristics.
When Dumbledore had made his way through the alphabet, and the rows of the unsorted first-years became thinner and thinner, I couldn't dare to look at any of them. I was too afraid of seeing my person and thus ending my carefree existence on this earth (and no, I don't want to discuss whether living in constant fear of something was carefree). Claire became a Hufflepuff, and one of the tables broke out in loud cheers. Then suddenly, Dumbledore called for "Snow, Noel," and I stumbled toward the stool with my eyes closed, sat down on it, and held onto it for dear life. Dumbledore let the old, slightly musky-smelling hat glide over my eyes. Only then could I bring me to open my eyes again.
Would you look at that?
I looked left and right as if to see where that voice came from, but of course, there was nothing but the blackness inside the hat. The voice sounded amused, excited even.
Haven't seen one of your kind in decades. What a nice change.
Was this ... the hat talking to me?
Of course, it is me, you fool!
Who could hear him talk right now?
Did you hear me talk out loud when I sat on the other students' heads? Then rest assured this conversation is as confidential as you make it out to be.
So, what was this all about?
Well, what do you think? In most cases, I need time to get to know them well enough and dig into their memories. There's really only a handful of people whose aura is so full of the house they belong to that I can sort them in an instance.
And, which house do I belong in?
Let's see ... you're definitely clever. Maybe a bit of an overthinker, though. People scare you, and you'd rather live alone in a five-story library than in the dorm of whichever house I sort you in. It's an easy task if you ask me. You'll be best suited for ...
"Ravenclaw!" The hat shouted this word for the entire Great Hall to hear, and the students on one of the long tables broke out in loud applause.
I headed this way with my head taking on the color of an overripe tomato. I sat down on the first free spot I saw and listened for the names of my friends to look up to the stool and the Sorting Hat.
Jacques was the next person to get called by Dumbledore. Someone sitting near me made a derogatory joke about his long surname, and I wanted to say something; I really did, but I couldn't find the courage. So I swallowed the words I had already picked out, hoping there would be another chance to prove my friendship in the future. Beyond all my hopes, Jacques also became a Ravenclaw, and I let the joy take possession of me and joined in with the loud applause. Jacques sat down next to me with a wide grin.
"You see, that's not half bad!" he said before the two of us turned to see the sorting of Stone, Anthony, and Sugarhill, Zoe, who were also both sent to our table.
With a soft clicking sound, the plates and platters in front of us filled with the most delicious food I'd ever seen. Tony couldn't hold back and immediately loaded his plate to the point I was afraid it might break in two. Seeing the quantities of food made me realize how hungry I was. I couldn't really eat all day as I had been so nervous, so now the roast I chose tasted well in two ways - it soothed my physical hunger, and it acted as a signal to myself that the worst part was over; I made it, I was here, I survived.
Tony was about to fill his plate for the third time when suddenly the food disappeared in front of our eyes. Tony still sat there with the fork and his hand and looked too funny with his pout that we couldn't stop laughing - until we heard the sound of a bell ringing.
"Good evening, dear students!"
A baldheaded, strangely worried-looking wizard got up from his seat at the teacher's table.
"I am Professor Dippet, for those of you who didn't yet have the pleasure to meet me. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school which will serve you as your second home for the following years. If you ever find something amiss here or see yourself part of an unsolvable problem, please know that there will always be an open ear for your worries and struggles."
He was looking around the Great Hall as if he was looking for the student he dedicated these words toward.
Then, as if he suddenly remembered, he added: "As always, you will be getting your timetables tomorrow morning."
He made preparations to sit down again and then bolted back up.
"And don't forget the Forbidden Forest doesn't carry its name as a joke but as a precaution. Good night."