((Glowing Embers: I'm getting them out ASAP...
Darcel: Okay, I probably will use that. Should I just make up a last name? And sorry about the summary. However, if you ever can't find it again, just go to your Review History, and it'll be there. I was thinking of maybe turning him back at Christmas, but I haven't decided, yet...
Ri: I'm not sure, really. The idea jut occurred to me as I was falling asleep. I actually got out of bed, turned the light back on, and typed the first two chapters.
Queen Tessandrilene Wendracon: I'll keep an eye on the formatting, I've always been a bit hopeless at defining paragraphs. And sure, I'd love to read your fic sometime:)
rita d.: Wow, I got it right;).
Aimura: Working on it...
Tulzdavampslayer: So am I, to be honest...I have a basic plan in mind, but I haven't fleshed out the details yet.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anyone you recognize is owned by J. K. Rowling - the Sorting Hat Song was written by the wonderful Morbane. You can find the original here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=997892
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
~*~*~*~*~*~
Ginny looked up at the castle for a moment, then turned to face the line of, as Rita liked to call them, 'Ghost Carriages'. She spotted a flash of blonde hair by one, and headed over - as she had suspected, it was Ann who was climbing in, and Ginny joined her. Rita was already there, and Rose quickly arrived as well. For a few minutes, they sat there. Silver, she noticed, had once again come out of the bag, and she stroked him gratefully. The air was growing colder as night drew on, and somehow, his presence comforted her. Then, with a creaking of ancient wood, the carriage began to move forwards. The enchantments kept the ride from being bumpy, and it was an odd sensation to roll so smoothly across the hilly dirt track.
After a few minutes, it slid to a stop. For a moment, they sat in silence, then Rose turned, pushing open her door. Hurriedly, Ginny followed suit, then stepped out, her feet sinking a bit into the soft ground. All down the line, carriages were emptying, and the group of black-robed figures grew, moving like a flood of shadows up the stone steps. Ginny followed, up the steps and through the massive doors, and stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall. The glow from the floating candelabras was magically magnified to fill the enormous room, and she stood there a moment, blinking, before she turned and walked towards the Gryffindor table. She spotted a seat between Rose and another fourth-year, Tallulah Grey, and sat down gratefully.
~*~*~*~*~*~
/\_/\_/\_/\_/\
As Ginny took her seat at the table, Draco cautiously slipped out of the bag to perch on her knees, as he had so many times at the Burrow. Quickly, her hand slipped down, and she petted him fondly. Presently, the clamor in the Hall eased. The silence held a moment, before a loud voice burst into song.
"I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
I've served time out of mind
And I was crafted for one job:
To put you with your kind.
I'll trawl your mind and character
To find your secrets deep
But you've no need to fear me, for
Your secrets I will keep.
This way, you choose yourself the House
You'll dwell in seven years
Your own creeds and ambitions
Will place you with your peers.
You have the choice of: SLYTHERIN
For flouters of convention
Able to stand upon their own
Strong without intervention.
If GRYFFINDOR appeals to you
You may be known for valour
Your gallantry and love of Right
Make gold-edged red your colour.
Yet HUFFLEPUFF may be your place
If you make good your sweat
Are constant and unwavering
And keep your values set.
Last but not least, House RAVENCLAW
Welcomes into its throng
Those who call knowledge, power
And with the wise belong.
You may have made your own choice
From what I have just said
But let me, now, advise you not
To be assumption-led.
The Founders of the Houses
Were all people, all complex;
Difficult to understand,
More so to second-guess.
Their values cannot be expressed
By adjectives so few,
Nor can such simple words be used
To categorize you.
You hold a part of every House:
'Though strong may be your voice,
And sure be your self-knowledge,
I make the final choice."
A wave of applause rushed over the room then, before quiet fell once more. After a few minutes -
"RAVENCLAW!"
then -
"SLYTHERIN!"
Draco sighed. He didn't belong here, hiding under the Gryffindor table - he belonged with his housemates. The Sorting wore on, oblivious to his presence, let alone his mood.
/\_/\_/\_/\_/\
((A/n: Thanks again to Morbane, author of the Sorting Hat song!))
Darcel: Okay, I probably will use that. Should I just make up a last name? And sorry about the summary. However, if you ever can't find it again, just go to your Review History, and it'll be there. I was thinking of maybe turning him back at Christmas, but I haven't decided, yet...
Ri: I'm not sure, really. The idea jut occurred to me as I was falling asleep. I actually got out of bed, turned the light back on, and typed the first two chapters.
Queen Tessandrilene Wendracon: I'll keep an eye on the formatting, I've always been a bit hopeless at defining paragraphs. And sure, I'd love to read your fic sometime:)
rita d.: Wow, I got it right;).
Aimura: Working on it...
Tulzdavampslayer: So am I, to be honest...I have a basic plan in mind, but I haven't fleshed out the details yet.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Anyone you recognize is owned by J. K. Rowling - the Sorting Hat Song was written by the wonderful Morbane. You can find the original here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=997892
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
~*~*~*~*~*~
Ginny looked up at the castle for a moment, then turned to face the line of, as Rita liked to call them, 'Ghost Carriages'. She spotted a flash of blonde hair by one, and headed over - as she had suspected, it was Ann who was climbing in, and Ginny joined her. Rita was already there, and Rose quickly arrived as well. For a few minutes, they sat there. Silver, she noticed, had once again come out of the bag, and she stroked him gratefully. The air was growing colder as night drew on, and somehow, his presence comforted her. Then, with a creaking of ancient wood, the carriage began to move forwards. The enchantments kept the ride from being bumpy, and it was an odd sensation to roll so smoothly across the hilly dirt track.
After a few minutes, it slid to a stop. For a moment, they sat in silence, then Rose turned, pushing open her door. Hurriedly, Ginny followed suit, then stepped out, her feet sinking a bit into the soft ground. All down the line, carriages were emptying, and the group of black-robed figures grew, moving like a flood of shadows up the stone steps. Ginny followed, up the steps and through the massive doors, and stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall. The glow from the floating candelabras was magically magnified to fill the enormous room, and she stood there a moment, blinking, before she turned and walked towards the Gryffindor table. She spotted a seat between Rose and another fourth-year, Tallulah Grey, and sat down gratefully.
~*~*~*~*~*~
/\_/\_/\_/\_/\
As Ginny took her seat at the table, Draco cautiously slipped out of the bag to perch on her knees, as he had so many times at the Burrow. Quickly, her hand slipped down, and she petted him fondly. Presently, the clamor in the Hall eased. The silence held a moment, before a loud voice burst into song.
"I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
I've served time out of mind
And I was crafted for one job:
To put you with your kind.
I'll trawl your mind and character
To find your secrets deep
But you've no need to fear me, for
Your secrets I will keep.
This way, you choose yourself the House
You'll dwell in seven years
Your own creeds and ambitions
Will place you with your peers.
You have the choice of: SLYTHERIN
For flouters of convention
Able to stand upon their own
Strong without intervention.
If GRYFFINDOR appeals to you
You may be known for valour
Your gallantry and love of Right
Make gold-edged red your colour.
Yet HUFFLEPUFF may be your place
If you make good your sweat
Are constant and unwavering
And keep your values set.
Last but not least, House RAVENCLAW
Welcomes into its throng
Those who call knowledge, power
And with the wise belong.
You may have made your own choice
From what I have just said
But let me, now, advise you not
To be assumption-led.
The Founders of the Houses
Were all people, all complex;
Difficult to understand,
More so to second-guess.
Their values cannot be expressed
By adjectives so few,
Nor can such simple words be used
To categorize you.
You hold a part of every House:
'Though strong may be your voice,
And sure be your self-knowledge,
I make the final choice."
A wave of applause rushed over the room then, before quiet fell once more. After a few minutes -
"RAVENCLAW!"
then -
"SLYTHERIN!"
Draco sighed. He didn't belong here, hiding under the Gryffindor table - he belonged with his housemates. The Sorting wore on, oblivious to his presence, let alone his mood.
/\_/\_/\_/\_/\
((A/n: Thanks again to Morbane, author of the Sorting Hat song!))