The next morning, someone woke me by shaking me lightly. I opened my
eyes blearily to find Mrs. Weasley standing over me.
"I'm sorry to wake you, dear, but I've just remembered that you haven't got a wand," she explained. My eyes widened.
"I forgot, too!" I exclaimed, hurrying out of bed. "Thanks for reminding me!"
After I had dressed and stuffed a handful of money into my pockets, I met Mrs. Weasley by the grand fireplace for the trip to Ollivander's. We used floo powder to get there directly.
A few moments later, I emerged in a dark, musty old shop. I could feel a tingle of something that occupied every inch, every molecule of this place. Rows upon rows of tin boxes on shelves lined the walls.
"Good day," said a voice from my left. I turned and saw an old man on a ladder, staring at me.
"Hello," I said awkwardly. The man looked me over.
"A little old to be getting your first wand, aren't you?" he asked, descending from the ladder and looking around the shelves.
"I'm not exactly from around here, sir," I said as the man picked out a box. He handed it to me.
"Try this one," he instructed, taking out a long piece of wood. "13 1/2 inches, yew, dragon heartstring."
I took the wand in my hand and waved it around. Nothing at all happened. The man took the wand from me.
"No, it's not right for you at all," he said, replacing the box. He picked another from the shelves. "What about this one? 10 inches, holly, with a unicorn hair."
Again, nothing happened when I waved it. While Mr. Ollivander (who else could it be?) searched for another wand, I ran my hand lightly over a row of wand boxes. Suddenly, some force made me stop and pull out the wand box my fingers were on. On the box, graceful letters spelled out the wand's combination; 12 inches, rowan, and-
"What's a fatum lapis?" I asked mindlessly, fingering the box. Mr. Ollivander walked over to me and took the box. His eyes attained a very mysterious glow to them.
"Ah," he said slowly, lifting the lid off the box. "A very strange combination; very rare, also. The most recent person to own a wand containing fatum lapis shavings lived about a century ago."
"What's a fatum lapis?" I asked again. Mr. Ollivander looked at me for a moment, holding the wand in his hands. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he answered me.
"There are many kinds of lapi," he said slowly. "Each has its own magical properties. A naturalis lapis is focused on nature; plants, animals, and insects. It is one of the more common lapi. One other lapis is known as the pario lapis. It's used in potions that help to create something. It's among the more hard-to-find lapi. A fatum lapis, however, is the rarest lapis of them all. So rare, in fact, that barely 1/4 teaspoon of its shavings are used in wands that require it, while usually 1 teaspoon is used. And having a wand that contains fatum lapis shavings is very rare, too." Mr. Ollivander handed me the wand. As he did so, he added, "I believe fifth year is when you learn about lapi. Every class puts in its own lesson on the lapis that has to do with that subject."
I listened to Mr. Ollivander as though he were very far away. My mind was fixated on the wand in my hands. Suddenly, the tan wand began to glow white. The charm around my neck responded by glowing gold. They both released a pleasantly warm heat. Then, the heat and glowing faded away, and I remembered that Mr. Ollivander was watching.
"I think we have found your wand," he said quietly. "Or rather, your wand has found you."
I paid Mr. Ollivander for my wand and returned to the cottage (Mrs. Weasley had just dropped me off). I raced up the stairs to my room, deposited my wand on the four-poster, and ripped open the packages until I found what I was looking for; a book titled Lapi Around the World by Carus Baca. I flipped to the index of the book and ran my finger down the columns of words until I found it. I turned to the page describing the fatums lapis and read:
Fatum lapis- The rarest of all lapi, it is only found in Ireland and Australia. The fatum lapis has many uses; fortune telling, healing, calming, protecting, and many others. The color of this precious stone differs depending on where it is found; silver, if from Ireland, and scarlet, if from Australia. The potions it is used in are as numerous as its uses. However, most of those potions have been banned by the Ministry of Magic in all countries. The only two that have not been banned are the Snow-heal potion and the Black Moon potion. For more information on these potions, see Lapi Potions by Validus Potio. For more information on the uses of the fatum lapi, see chapter 4.
I spent the remainder of the day reading everything I could find on the strange stone by the name of "fatum lapis."
The rest of the summer passed in a blur; too fast, in my opinion. On the way to King's Cross (Mr. Weasley had borrowed some Ministry cars to escort us), I leaned my head against the window and stared out at the sunny sky. My emotions were mixed; I felt elated at finally being able to go to Hogwarts, but I was going to miss the pleasant summer days spent at the cottage.
After one final bound, we were at King's Cross Station. Mr. Weasley loaded our trunks, the owls, and Crookshanks onto the trolleys he had found for us and steered us into the station. We came to a stop in front of the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten.
"Ok," said Mr. Weasley, glancing at the clock, "we have five minutes. Harry, you, Ron, Hermione, and Emerald go first."
I took a steadying breath, turned my trolley towards the barrier, and started to run towards it. I closed my eyes when I was a foot away, and, ten seconds later, opened them to find myself standing on a noisy platform. A scarlet train had many people leaning out of its open windows to talk to others, steam puffing gently from the pistons. A sign above me read "Platform 9 3/4: Hogwarts Express." Grinning, I moved out of the way as Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys appeared behind me.
We boarded the Hogwarts Express and found an empty compartment near the end of it. I pushed my trunk up onto the luggage rack next to Harry's and sat down. A few minutes later, a whistle blew somewhere. The pistons on the train hissed and the Hogwarts Express began to chug slowly out of the station. We stuck our heads out of the window and waved to Mr. Weasley until he was out of sight.
Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch (again) and Hermione was curled up in a corner reading Hogwarts, A History, stroking Crookshanks. I sighed and pulled out Lapi Around the World, starting on reading about the different uses of the lapi. I had just finished reading the uses for the mutatio lapis when Harry yanked the book out of my hands.
"Lapi Around the World?" he asked, looking the book over. "Not this book again, Emerald! You've been reading it for most of the summer!"
"It's a wonderful source of information," I said plainly, plucking the book back from him.
"What kind of information?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up from her book.
"Honestly, Harry," she said. "I don't see Emerald bugging you for talking about Quidditch all summer."
Harry reddened slightly, then asked, "What is a lapi, anyway?"
"Lapis," I corrected him. "Lapi is the plural."
"Oh. So what is a lapis then?"
"A lapis is a small stone that holds magical properties. Lapi can be found in every country," I said, closing my book.
"And why, exactly, are you so interested in lapi?" Ron inquired.
"Why are you so interested in Quidditch?" Hermione snapped tersely. I ignored her.
"Lapi shavings are in my wand," I answered Ron, picking my wand up and fingering it. It started to get a little warm, but not as warm as in Ollivander's.
"You're joking!" said Hermione. "That's really rare!"
"I know. Mr. Ollivander said that the last person to own a wand containing lapi shavings lived 100 years ago," I told them.
"Wow. What kind of lapis is it?" Hermione said,
"A fatum lapis," I replied softly. "The rarest kind."
When the lunch trolley arrived, Harry bought mounds of pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, Bertie Bott's Every Flavors Beans, chocolate frogs, and nameless other sweets, along with some pumpkin juice. I had fun tasting a bit of everything, and I nearly threw up after a tasted a funny pastel pink jelly bean which turned out to be liver.
"I can't believe you convinced me to eat that!" I laughed, gulping down some pumpkin juice. Harry and Ron were doubled up in silent laughter, and even Hermione couldn't keep a straight face.
"I can't believe they convinced you of anything," said a sarcastic voice. A pale-face boy with white-blonde hair and slightly pointed features stood in the compartment door, flanked with two huge, thuggish boys who were scowling and flexing their fists. Harry and Ron stopped laughing.
"Malfoy," Harry growled.
"Ew," I whined, pinching my nose. "Does anyone else smell dragon dung?"
Hermione stifled a laugh, and Ron grinned at me. Malfoy glared.
"Who, exactly, are you?" he asked with disgust.
"I should tell you because... why?" I shot back at him. Malfoy grabbed my wrist and yanked me up so our eyes were level.
"Because I'll find out anyway," he hissed.
"Then wait," I retorted. Malfoy started to twist my arm.
"I don't like to wait," he said maliciously. "You don't want to get on my bad side."
I twisted around, using a move I learned in my women's defense class. Soon, Malfoy was flat on his back on the floor with my left foot on his chest.
"I don't care what side of you I'm on," I said savagely. "You don't scare me, Death Eater or no for a father."
I lifted my foot off of Malfoy's chest. He stood shakily up, looking vaguely panicked. I pointed a finger at the door. "Get out."
Malfoy glared angrily at me before storming past the two thugs in the doorway. They followed him.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at me. I sighed and sank into the seat next to Harry. He put an arm around me and pulled me closer; I laid my head on his shoulder.
"I have a feeling Malfoy's going to tell dear old daddy about this," I sighed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"Are you kidding?" said Ron excitedly. "That was awesome!"
"I'm glad you think so." I smiled.
Slowly, the scenery outside the window began to change. thick wood surrounded us on both sides, and the sky slowly darkened. We changed into our Hogwarts robes and finished just as the train screeched to a halt. I glanced nervously at Harry, and he winked as we disembarked from the Hogwarts Express. A voice boomed through the night around us.
"Firs' years, over 'ere!" A looming figure holding a lamp walked up to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me.
"Hello, Hagrid," said Hermione cheerfully. "Have a nice summer?"
"All right," Hagrid said. "I was, er, busy fer most of it, but it was all right. An 'oo's this?"
I grinned at Hagrid as Ron introduced me.
"This is Emerald," Ron said. "She's a, um, American transfer student."
"Nice ter meet ya," said Hagrid, shaking my arm.
"Likewise," I replied.
"Well, better get goin'," said Hagrid. "Carriages'll be leavin' in a bit."
"Ok," said Harry. "Bye, Hagrid."
We made our way towards the horseless carriages and climbed into one. A few seconds later, they lurched forward towards the castle.
I looked out the carriage window as we passed two stone pillars, and gasped. In the moonlight, Hogwarts castle looked like it came out of a storybook. Rectangles of light dotted the many towers and turrets, winking as people passed them. The towers stood at different heights, looking like an array of witches' hats.
"Oh, wow," I whispered, wide-eyed. "It looked so much more mysterious than I imagined it."
When the carriages stopped, we climbed out and walked into the entrance hall. I looked around excitedly as we entered the Great Hall and seated ourselves at the Gryffindor table. Hundreds of candles levitated over the tables, where students were talking animatedly to there friends. Looking up, I saw a black sky punctured by dozens of little lights that winked and flickered at us. I lowered my gaze to the fifth table in the hall, where all the teachers were sitting. A tiny man was sitting in a chair filled with pillows so he could see over the table was talking to a woman on his right. Flitwick, I thought, my gaze roaming. And, ooh, that's Snape! I stared at him for a minute or so, taking in his long, greasy- looking black hair, hooked nose, and sallow face. After that, I forced myself to look away from him. My gaze fell on the two empty seats, which were probably Hagrid's and Professor McGonagall's, and then on Dumbledore. His eyes were half-closed behind his glasses, and his head was resting on his hands. His long, silver beard and hair glistened slightly in the candle light.
"Everything's just as I imagined it," I told Harry, who was sitting right next to me.
"Including the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he asked. A woman with waist-length, silvery-blonde hair and an even, white-toothed smile was sitting next to Dumbledore, beaming at nothing in particular.
"Is that Fleur?" Ron asked in a choked voice, going pink.
"It looks like it," Hermione replied. "Well, no surprise, really. She did say she was planning to get a job here when we last saw her."
"I didn't think she was serious!" Ron sputtered. I laughed.
"You still like her, Ron?" I teased. He went red.
"I like her about as much as you like Harry," Ron said indignantly. "Judging from the events over the summer, I'd say that wouldn't be a lot."
"Oh, but it is," I said. "Do you want to tell them, Harry?"
"Tell us what?" Hermione asked.
"We're kind of, well, going out," said Harry, going pink. Hermione giggled; Ron stared.
"No way!" he said.
"Stop sounding so surprised," I said.
"But I am," Ron said. "Well, then, I better change my analogy. Ok; I like Fleur as much as Emerald likes Malfoy."
"But I don't like-"
"My point exactly."
After a few more minutes, Hagrid squeezed into the Hall, took his seat, and waved at us. We smiled and waved back.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a strict looking witch lead a stream of terrified looking first-years through the suddenly silent students. She carried a 3-legged stool and a battered, worn-out hat.
"McGonagall," Ron whispered to me as she set the stool down and placed the hat on it. Everything was silent for a few seconds, in which every pair of eyes in the hall were fixed upon the hat. Then, a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
I may be old and battered
I may look worn and thin
But never judge by what you see
Because I can see within
I can tell where you'll do best
In one of the houses on the Hogwarts crest:
Great Gryffindor always prized the brave
They'd stand up for what was right
And drive off any knave
Renowned Ravenclaw looked for the wise
They'd solve any problem
And to every challenge rise
Honorable Hufflepuff welcomed all those who were loyal
They'd never turn their backs upon a friend
And were unafraid of toil
Shrewd Slytherin searched for the sly
But those who were pure of blood
Were the only ones who'd satisfy
So where of these four will you reside?
That's where I come in
Remember never judge by what you see
Because I can see within
As soon as the hat finished, the hall burst into applause. When everyone had quieted down, Professor McGonagall produced a length of parchment from her robes and turned to face us. She unrolled the parchment.
"When I call your name," McGonagall said, "you will sit on the stool, and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. When you are sorted, you will join the rest of your house at the correct table." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and read out the first name, "Affriel, Gabby!" A blonde girl ran up to the stool, and McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. After a moment, it called out, "Hufflepuff!"
The Hufflepuffs applauded Gabby as she joined them, smiling broadly.
"Aline, Mark!"
"Ravenclaw!"
"Aura, Lauren!"
"Slytherin!"
The Sorting seemed to take forever. By the time McGonagall had called out the final name (she was Sorted into Gryffindor) I was half-asleep. What she said next, though, jolted me out of Slumber Land.
"We have one more person to sort," she informed the Hall. "She has traveled here all the way from California, and is Hogwarts first American transfer student. Will Emerald Destiny please come up here?"
Slowly, I rose out of my seat and walked towards Professor McGonagall. I could feel hundreds of eyes upon me as I made my way to the stool. Upon reaching it, I sat down and closed my eyes, feeling the Sorting hat being placed on my head. Everything was silent, and then-
"I'm sorry to wake you, dear, but I've just remembered that you haven't got a wand," she explained. My eyes widened.
"I forgot, too!" I exclaimed, hurrying out of bed. "Thanks for reminding me!"
After I had dressed and stuffed a handful of money into my pockets, I met Mrs. Weasley by the grand fireplace for the trip to Ollivander's. We used floo powder to get there directly.
A few moments later, I emerged in a dark, musty old shop. I could feel a tingle of something that occupied every inch, every molecule of this place. Rows upon rows of tin boxes on shelves lined the walls.
"Good day," said a voice from my left. I turned and saw an old man on a ladder, staring at me.
"Hello," I said awkwardly. The man looked me over.
"A little old to be getting your first wand, aren't you?" he asked, descending from the ladder and looking around the shelves.
"I'm not exactly from around here, sir," I said as the man picked out a box. He handed it to me.
"Try this one," he instructed, taking out a long piece of wood. "13 1/2 inches, yew, dragon heartstring."
I took the wand in my hand and waved it around. Nothing at all happened. The man took the wand from me.
"No, it's not right for you at all," he said, replacing the box. He picked another from the shelves. "What about this one? 10 inches, holly, with a unicorn hair."
Again, nothing happened when I waved it. While Mr. Ollivander (who else could it be?) searched for another wand, I ran my hand lightly over a row of wand boxes. Suddenly, some force made me stop and pull out the wand box my fingers were on. On the box, graceful letters spelled out the wand's combination; 12 inches, rowan, and-
"What's a fatum lapis?" I asked mindlessly, fingering the box. Mr. Ollivander walked over to me and took the box. His eyes attained a very mysterious glow to them.
"Ah," he said slowly, lifting the lid off the box. "A very strange combination; very rare, also. The most recent person to own a wand containing fatum lapis shavings lived about a century ago."
"What's a fatum lapis?" I asked again. Mr. Ollivander looked at me for a moment, holding the wand in his hands. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he answered me.
"There are many kinds of lapi," he said slowly. "Each has its own magical properties. A naturalis lapis is focused on nature; plants, animals, and insects. It is one of the more common lapi. One other lapis is known as the pario lapis. It's used in potions that help to create something. It's among the more hard-to-find lapi. A fatum lapis, however, is the rarest lapis of them all. So rare, in fact, that barely 1/4 teaspoon of its shavings are used in wands that require it, while usually 1 teaspoon is used. And having a wand that contains fatum lapis shavings is very rare, too." Mr. Ollivander handed me the wand. As he did so, he added, "I believe fifth year is when you learn about lapi. Every class puts in its own lesson on the lapis that has to do with that subject."
I listened to Mr. Ollivander as though he were very far away. My mind was fixated on the wand in my hands. Suddenly, the tan wand began to glow white. The charm around my neck responded by glowing gold. They both released a pleasantly warm heat. Then, the heat and glowing faded away, and I remembered that Mr. Ollivander was watching.
"I think we have found your wand," he said quietly. "Or rather, your wand has found you."
I paid Mr. Ollivander for my wand and returned to the cottage (Mrs. Weasley had just dropped me off). I raced up the stairs to my room, deposited my wand on the four-poster, and ripped open the packages until I found what I was looking for; a book titled Lapi Around the World by Carus Baca. I flipped to the index of the book and ran my finger down the columns of words until I found it. I turned to the page describing the fatums lapis and read:
Fatum lapis- The rarest of all lapi, it is only found in Ireland and Australia. The fatum lapis has many uses; fortune telling, healing, calming, protecting, and many others. The color of this precious stone differs depending on where it is found; silver, if from Ireland, and scarlet, if from Australia. The potions it is used in are as numerous as its uses. However, most of those potions have been banned by the Ministry of Magic in all countries. The only two that have not been banned are the Snow-heal potion and the Black Moon potion. For more information on these potions, see Lapi Potions by Validus Potio. For more information on the uses of the fatum lapi, see chapter 4.
I spent the remainder of the day reading everything I could find on the strange stone by the name of "fatum lapis."
The rest of the summer passed in a blur; too fast, in my opinion. On the way to King's Cross (Mr. Weasley had borrowed some Ministry cars to escort us), I leaned my head against the window and stared out at the sunny sky. My emotions were mixed; I felt elated at finally being able to go to Hogwarts, but I was going to miss the pleasant summer days spent at the cottage.
After one final bound, we were at King's Cross Station. Mr. Weasley loaded our trunks, the owls, and Crookshanks onto the trolleys he had found for us and steered us into the station. We came to a stop in front of the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten.
"Ok," said Mr. Weasley, glancing at the clock, "we have five minutes. Harry, you, Ron, Hermione, and Emerald go first."
I took a steadying breath, turned my trolley towards the barrier, and started to run towards it. I closed my eyes when I was a foot away, and, ten seconds later, opened them to find myself standing on a noisy platform. A scarlet train had many people leaning out of its open windows to talk to others, steam puffing gently from the pistons. A sign above me read "Platform 9 3/4: Hogwarts Express." Grinning, I moved out of the way as Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys appeared behind me.
We boarded the Hogwarts Express and found an empty compartment near the end of it. I pushed my trunk up onto the luggage rack next to Harry's and sat down. A few minutes later, a whistle blew somewhere. The pistons on the train hissed and the Hogwarts Express began to chug slowly out of the station. We stuck our heads out of the window and waved to Mr. Weasley until he was out of sight.
Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch (again) and Hermione was curled up in a corner reading Hogwarts, A History, stroking Crookshanks. I sighed and pulled out Lapi Around the World, starting on reading about the different uses of the lapi. I had just finished reading the uses for the mutatio lapis when Harry yanked the book out of my hands.
"Lapi Around the World?" he asked, looking the book over. "Not this book again, Emerald! You've been reading it for most of the summer!"
"It's a wonderful source of information," I said plainly, plucking the book back from him.
"What kind of information?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up from her book.
"Honestly, Harry," she said. "I don't see Emerald bugging you for talking about Quidditch all summer."
Harry reddened slightly, then asked, "What is a lapi, anyway?"
"Lapis," I corrected him. "Lapi is the plural."
"Oh. So what is a lapis then?"
"A lapis is a small stone that holds magical properties. Lapi can be found in every country," I said, closing my book.
"And why, exactly, are you so interested in lapi?" Ron inquired.
"Why are you so interested in Quidditch?" Hermione snapped tersely. I ignored her.
"Lapi shavings are in my wand," I answered Ron, picking my wand up and fingering it. It started to get a little warm, but not as warm as in Ollivander's.
"You're joking!" said Hermione. "That's really rare!"
"I know. Mr. Ollivander said that the last person to own a wand containing lapi shavings lived 100 years ago," I told them.
"Wow. What kind of lapis is it?" Hermione said,
"A fatum lapis," I replied softly. "The rarest kind."
When the lunch trolley arrived, Harry bought mounds of pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, Bertie Bott's Every Flavors Beans, chocolate frogs, and nameless other sweets, along with some pumpkin juice. I had fun tasting a bit of everything, and I nearly threw up after a tasted a funny pastel pink jelly bean which turned out to be liver.
"I can't believe you convinced me to eat that!" I laughed, gulping down some pumpkin juice. Harry and Ron were doubled up in silent laughter, and even Hermione couldn't keep a straight face.
"I can't believe they convinced you of anything," said a sarcastic voice. A pale-face boy with white-blonde hair and slightly pointed features stood in the compartment door, flanked with two huge, thuggish boys who were scowling and flexing their fists. Harry and Ron stopped laughing.
"Malfoy," Harry growled.
"Ew," I whined, pinching my nose. "Does anyone else smell dragon dung?"
Hermione stifled a laugh, and Ron grinned at me. Malfoy glared.
"Who, exactly, are you?" he asked with disgust.
"I should tell you because... why?" I shot back at him. Malfoy grabbed my wrist and yanked me up so our eyes were level.
"Because I'll find out anyway," he hissed.
"Then wait," I retorted. Malfoy started to twist my arm.
"I don't like to wait," he said maliciously. "You don't want to get on my bad side."
I twisted around, using a move I learned in my women's defense class. Soon, Malfoy was flat on his back on the floor with my left foot on his chest.
"I don't care what side of you I'm on," I said savagely. "You don't scare me, Death Eater or no for a father."
I lifted my foot off of Malfoy's chest. He stood shakily up, looking vaguely panicked. I pointed a finger at the door. "Get out."
Malfoy glared angrily at me before storming past the two thugs in the doorway. They followed him.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at me. I sighed and sank into the seat next to Harry. He put an arm around me and pulled me closer; I laid my head on his shoulder.
"I have a feeling Malfoy's going to tell dear old daddy about this," I sighed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper."
"Are you kidding?" said Ron excitedly. "That was awesome!"
"I'm glad you think so." I smiled.
Slowly, the scenery outside the window began to change. thick wood surrounded us on both sides, and the sky slowly darkened. We changed into our Hogwarts robes and finished just as the train screeched to a halt. I glanced nervously at Harry, and he winked as we disembarked from the Hogwarts Express. A voice boomed through the night around us.
"Firs' years, over 'ere!" A looming figure holding a lamp walked up to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me.
"Hello, Hagrid," said Hermione cheerfully. "Have a nice summer?"
"All right," Hagrid said. "I was, er, busy fer most of it, but it was all right. An 'oo's this?"
I grinned at Hagrid as Ron introduced me.
"This is Emerald," Ron said. "She's a, um, American transfer student."
"Nice ter meet ya," said Hagrid, shaking my arm.
"Likewise," I replied.
"Well, better get goin'," said Hagrid. "Carriages'll be leavin' in a bit."
"Ok," said Harry. "Bye, Hagrid."
We made our way towards the horseless carriages and climbed into one. A few seconds later, they lurched forward towards the castle.
I looked out the carriage window as we passed two stone pillars, and gasped. In the moonlight, Hogwarts castle looked like it came out of a storybook. Rectangles of light dotted the many towers and turrets, winking as people passed them. The towers stood at different heights, looking like an array of witches' hats.
"Oh, wow," I whispered, wide-eyed. "It looked so much more mysterious than I imagined it."
When the carriages stopped, we climbed out and walked into the entrance hall. I looked around excitedly as we entered the Great Hall and seated ourselves at the Gryffindor table. Hundreds of candles levitated over the tables, where students were talking animatedly to there friends. Looking up, I saw a black sky punctured by dozens of little lights that winked and flickered at us. I lowered my gaze to the fifth table in the hall, where all the teachers were sitting. A tiny man was sitting in a chair filled with pillows so he could see over the table was talking to a woman on his right. Flitwick, I thought, my gaze roaming. And, ooh, that's Snape! I stared at him for a minute or so, taking in his long, greasy- looking black hair, hooked nose, and sallow face. After that, I forced myself to look away from him. My gaze fell on the two empty seats, which were probably Hagrid's and Professor McGonagall's, and then on Dumbledore. His eyes were half-closed behind his glasses, and his head was resting on his hands. His long, silver beard and hair glistened slightly in the candle light.
"Everything's just as I imagined it," I told Harry, who was sitting right next to me.
"Including the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he asked. A woman with waist-length, silvery-blonde hair and an even, white-toothed smile was sitting next to Dumbledore, beaming at nothing in particular.
"Is that Fleur?" Ron asked in a choked voice, going pink.
"It looks like it," Hermione replied. "Well, no surprise, really. She did say she was planning to get a job here when we last saw her."
"I didn't think she was serious!" Ron sputtered. I laughed.
"You still like her, Ron?" I teased. He went red.
"I like her about as much as you like Harry," Ron said indignantly. "Judging from the events over the summer, I'd say that wouldn't be a lot."
"Oh, but it is," I said. "Do you want to tell them, Harry?"
"Tell us what?" Hermione asked.
"We're kind of, well, going out," said Harry, going pink. Hermione giggled; Ron stared.
"No way!" he said.
"Stop sounding so surprised," I said.
"But I am," Ron said. "Well, then, I better change my analogy. Ok; I like Fleur as much as Emerald likes Malfoy."
"But I don't like-"
"My point exactly."
After a few more minutes, Hagrid squeezed into the Hall, took his seat, and waved at us. We smiled and waved back.
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a strict looking witch lead a stream of terrified looking first-years through the suddenly silent students. She carried a 3-legged stool and a battered, worn-out hat.
"McGonagall," Ron whispered to me as she set the stool down and placed the hat on it. Everything was silent for a few seconds, in which every pair of eyes in the hall were fixed upon the hat. Then, a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
I may be old and battered
I may look worn and thin
But never judge by what you see
Because I can see within
I can tell where you'll do best
In one of the houses on the Hogwarts crest:
Great Gryffindor always prized the brave
They'd stand up for what was right
And drive off any knave
Renowned Ravenclaw looked for the wise
They'd solve any problem
And to every challenge rise
Honorable Hufflepuff welcomed all those who were loyal
They'd never turn their backs upon a friend
And were unafraid of toil
Shrewd Slytherin searched for the sly
But those who were pure of blood
Were the only ones who'd satisfy
So where of these four will you reside?
That's where I come in
Remember never judge by what you see
Because I can see within
As soon as the hat finished, the hall burst into applause. When everyone had quieted down, Professor McGonagall produced a length of parchment from her robes and turned to face us. She unrolled the parchment.
"When I call your name," McGonagall said, "you will sit on the stool, and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. When you are sorted, you will join the rest of your house at the correct table." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and read out the first name, "Affriel, Gabby!" A blonde girl ran up to the stool, and McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. After a moment, it called out, "Hufflepuff!"
The Hufflepuffs applauded Gabby as she joined them, smiling broadly.
"Aline, Mark!"
"Ravenclaw!"
"Aura, Lauren!"
"Slytherin!"
The Sorting seemed to take forever. By the time McGonagall had called out the final name (she was Sorted into Gryffindor) I was half-asleep. What she said next, though, jolted me out of Slumber Land.
"We have one more person to sort," she informed the Hall. "She has traveled here all the way from California, and is Hogwarts first American transfer student. Will Emerald Destiny please come up here?"
Slowly, I rose out of my seat and walked towards Professor McGonagall. I could feel hundreds of eyes upon me as I made my way to the stool. Upon reaching it, I sat down and closed my eyes, feeling the Sorting hat being placed on my head. Everything was silent, and then-
