CHAPTER TEN
the Sour sorting haT
The welcome feast in the Great Hall had always been one of Harry's favourite times at Hogwarts. He had missed two due to circumstances beyond his control. But he remembered his own first feast at the school. Had six years really passed since that fateful day? That horrible day when the Sorting Hat had told him Slytherin would help him on his way to greatness if he chose to be in that house. The day that Draco Malfoy had shown his true colors to Harry.
Harry could see him across the Great Hall, his eyes twinkling. He was up to something, Harry knew. But that something was a mystery to him.
"Harry, if I didn't know any better I'd say you had a crush on Malfoy," Hermione laughed. "You've been staring at him since we got here."
"I have?" Harry felt his face redden. "There something different about him this year."
"Maybe he got laid over the summer," Ron grunted. Hermione's eyes shot daggers at him.
Harry chuckled. "No, I don't think that's it. He knows something we don't. All that 'year of the serpent' stuff."
"We can look it up after the feast if you want," Hermione replied.
"We haven't even been back for an hour yet and she's already itching to get into the library," Ron said. Hermione elbowed him in his ribcage. He moaned, and then rubbed his side. "Sorry. Couldn't help it. The truth just slips out sometimes." That earned him another elbow between the ribs. He doubled over at the table, his head turned towards Harry. "I think she likes me."
"Shh…" Hermione hissed. The Great Hall was silent as the Sorting Hat was placed on its stool in front of the staff table. Hagrid was seated at the end, all smiles, and waved to Harry when he caught his eye. Dumbledore stared straight ahead, the wrinkles on his face showing a bit more than they had that night in Hawaii.
Professor McGonagall led the first years into the Hall. They stood before their fellow students and waited patiently for the Sorting Hat.
It was tradition each year for the Hat to recite a poem before the actual sorting took place. The Hat looked different this year. The fabric seemed more red than black, particularly around the cheeks of the Hat's face.
The stillness in the Hall had reached its peak, yet the Sorting Hat still did not utter a word. Finally, Dumbledore stood up and picked the Hat up by its tip. "Let the sorting begin!" he commanded.
There were gasps as McGonagall fumbled with the parchment she was holding. She quickly unraveled it and read the first name. "Christopher Atkins."
A tall first year with long, unruly dark hair stepped up to the stool. He sat down and Dumbledore placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
"What's going on?" Hermione whispered. "Where's the poem?"
Ron shrugged. "Maybe he had writer's block?"
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table. He was pretty sure that Malfoy had something to do with the Hat's odd behavior.
After Christopher Atkins had been sorted into Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall called out the next name. "Ida Hill."
This first year also took a seat on the school, and after very little consideration, the Sorting Hat sighed and announced "Slytherin." The sorting continued as each first year was sorted into the appropriate house – or so Harry thought.
"Wait a minute," Harry said, counting the number of newcomers at the Slytherin table. "They have too many."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
"He's right," Hermione agreed. "Each year, there are only ten students sorted into each house – five boys and five girls. Slytherin has an extra boy."
"Are you sure?"
Hermione nodded. "Something strange is going on here."
When the first years were finally all sorted, Hufflepuff was down by two new students, and Ravenclaw was missing one. Slytherin had three extra first year students seated at their table.
"I don't understand," Harry said. "Why are there so many Slytherins?"
Ron shrugged. "Maybe it just turned out that way. You can't expect it to be a perfect balance every year." But something in his voice made Harry think he was a little concerned about the number of Slytherins.
"Perhaps the Dark Side has the same philosophy as Dumbledore," Hermione said. "The more Slytherins, the more eyes on Dumbledore."
"I don't know," Harry argued. "This all seems very suspicious. And Malfoy is looking awfully smug."
"Aw, don't worry about him Harry," Ron interrupted. "Besides, it's the year of the Serpent my ass. Slytherin may have an overabundance of first years, but our year is missing one." Harry turned to look at the Slytherin table. "Whatever happened to Morganna Rocklad?"
Harry counted heads, and sure enough, the sixth year girl was missing. He shrugged.
"I overheard Pansy Parkinson say that her parents sent her to Beaubaxtons," Ginny spoke up. "They said it's too dangerous at Hogwarts this year."
"Dangerous?" Ron questioned.
Hermione shrugged.
Suddenly, the Sorting Hat twitched and quivered on the stool. Professor McGonagall tried to snatch it up but the Hat was too fast. It began to speak in a tone of voice that Harry had never heard before. It was raspy and furious.
'That's it! Enough of this charade!
I will not be a part in this hideous game!
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin,
I know which house to sort everyone in.
One sorted wrong is acceptable I see,
But three sorted wrong is an impossibility.
The time has come to choose sides for war,
As evil grows each day more and more.
Virtues of kindess, love, and loyalty
Rival those of hatred, lies, and cruelty.
The road seems endless, the battles hard
Rings will become the greatest wild card.
Watch your backs, young wizards indeed
There is nothing to bring you back once you fall to your knees!'
"Enough!" Dumbledore shouted. He stood from his seat at the table. "Professor McGonagall, please remove this hat from the ceremony."
McGonagall quickly grabbed the wiggling hat and carried it out of the Great Hall. "Think he made that poem up on the spot?" Ron joked.
"My apologies," Dumbledore said, still standing. "And now, without further ado, let the feast begin!"
From the kitchens below, food appeared on the tables. Ron and Harry quickly dug into the food in front of them. Harry was starved. He hadn't eaten anything since the train ride earlier that day. Just when he was about to take a bite of the mashed potatoes in front of him, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He looked up at Ron, who had a fearful look in his eyes. Harry slowly turned around.
Professor McGonagall was standing behind him. Her face was furious and a little red from hauling out the Sorting Hat. "Mr. Potter, I'll see you in my office after the feast." Her dark eyes narrowed, and after glaring at him for a moment, she turned on her heel and walked back up to the staff table.
Harry gulped and dropped his fork onto his plate. "Suddenly, I'm not very hungry anymore."
"I don't blame you," Hermione said. "She looks like she's going to give you detention for the first half of the year."
"But why?" Harry questioned. "I mean, I haven't done anything."
"Yet," Ron muttered.
"Maybe Malfoy said something about the train," Ginny suggested. "Did you say something to him?"
"Of course," Harry replied. "But it was just the usual empty threats."
"Then you'll probably get the usual punishment," Ron said between mouthfuls.