Sorted

Professor McGonagall unrolled the scroll and read the first name. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with pigtails ran up, put on the hat, and sat down. A moment passed before the hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" the table on the right clapped as she joined them.

"So we just put a hat on!" Ron whispered. "Fred was going on about wrestling a troll."

Draco snorted, "A troll? Honestly."

Professor McGonagall called "Boot Terry!" who was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Draco, Ron? If we aren't in the same house I hope we can still be friends," Harry said, his nervousness obvious.

Ron smiled at him, "Sure Harry!"

Draco smirked, "No problem for you Harry, but I really shouldn't be associating with a loser like Weasley here."

"Ha!" Ron exclaimed. "Like I'd want to be friends with an evil git like you," yet they grinned at each other.

The professor was now calling "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" who became another Hufflepuff. Sometimes the hat took a while to decide, others it called at once. The boys watched as Hermione, the bossy girl, and the boy who kept losing his toad became Gryffindors. Then it was Draco's turn. He calmly strode forward and placed the hat on his head. Harry and Ron watched anxiously…

Well, what have we here? A malfoy, The hat whispered into Draco's ear. Very intelligent I see. You could do well in Ravenclaw. But really there is no doubt; you belong in – "SLYTHERIN!"

The table second on the right cheered as Draco sat down, smiling. More names were called and told their houses until it was Harry's turn. The hall started whispering 'Potter, did she say?' 'The Harry Potter?' He cast a quick glance to Ron and Draco who both smiled encouragement, or smirked in Draco's case. Harry sat on the stool and set the hat on his head…

Hmm, the hat hmmed, Difficult. Very difficult. There's talent, I see, not a bad mind, either. Plenty of courage too and a yearning to prove yourself, interesting… So where should you be? Harry sat still, wondering the same thing, vaguely anxious about being separted from his first real friends. Right then, you'll be great in – "SLYTHERIN!"

Harry, relieved, went to the Slytherin table beside Draco as the entire hall gave him the loudest cheer yet. Draco beamed at him. A few older students shook his hand and patted him on the back.

The sorting continued. Second to last, Ron was called. By now he was as pale as the ghosts that dotted the hall. He sat on the stool and the hat was put on his head…

Ah! Another Weasley. Just as brave as your brothers, too. Ron grimaced at that. Hmm, I see you want to prove your own worth. It may be difficult for you but if that's what you want. Are you sure? Very well, you shall be in -- "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table cheered again, but many people were stunned. Harry and Draco cheered loudest of all as Ron sat across from them. At the Gryffindor table Fred and George had their jaws open, staring in surprise.

The last name was called – Blaise Zabini, also a Slytherin – and finally the ceremony was over. Professor McGonagall removed the stool and the Sorting Hat. An old man with a long silver beard stood up spreading his arms wide.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we start eating I would like to say a few words. And they are: Swig! Rubber! Sassafras! Nip! Thank you," He sat back down.

The hall cheered again. The boys gave each other confused looks.

"Is he mad? What an odd thing to say," Ron said.

"Yes, he is quite mad," an older student said to him, "A good Headmaster though, but you didn't hear it from me. I'm Adrian Pucey. Pass those pork chops here would you?"

And the tables were covered with food and drink of all kinds, including the pork chops Ron passed to Adrian. Everyone filled their plates and began eating. At one point Draco kept squirming and casting looks beside him and Harry looked around him to see what the problem was. A ghost sat on the bench, staring across the table at Ron. The ghost had a gaunt face and robes stained with silver blood.

"Don't be causing any trouble Weasley. I'll be watching you," The ghost sank through the floor and disappeared.

"What did I do?" Ron asked bewildered.

"He probably thinks you'll be pulling lots of pranks like your brothers do. Don't worry about." Adrian tried to reassure him.

"I'm not my brothers," Ron sulked.

"The Baron just wants us to win the house cup again," Adrian said. "We've won six years running. Like I said, don't worry about it."

The conversation turned to other things as the meal continued through to dessert.

"What the headmasters name?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore. And there's Snape, the one with black hair. He's our head of house," Adrian pointed. "That's professor Quirrell beside him, and Professor Vector on the other side," Harry looked up at the teachers' table. He saw a greasy dark-haired man talking to another with a purple turban. Harry was scrutinizing the odd looking turban when it happened – a sharp pain flared in the scar on his forehead.

"Ow!" Harry rubbed his brow.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"I-It's nothing," Harry waved it off.

When everyone had had their fill, the dirty dishes and unfinished food disappeared. Dumbledore rose again.

"Now that you've all been fed and watered I have a few announcements. Firstly a reminder that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students," He looked toward the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table as he said this. "Also, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes. Quidditch trials are on the second week of class. Anyone interested should contact Madam Hooch. And lastly, I must inform you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly forbidden to anyone who does not wish to die a slow painful death."

"Is he serious?" Ron asked.

"Probably. He may be odd but that's not something I think he'd joke about," Adrian replied with a shrug.

"And now," Dumbledore continued, "let us sing the school song." The other teachers' smiled became a bit flat. He gave his wand a little flick and a long gold ribbon flew out twisting into words high above the tables. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and here we go!"

The hall erupted in sound. It was truly awful. Draco put his fingers in his ears. Finally with the Weasley twins taking the longest, the song ended. Then it was time for bed. A Slytherin prefect led the first years through the corridors and down a few stairs toward the back of the castle. At last they arrived at what appeared to be another blank stone wall. The prefect turned to the first years.

"The password is 'Morsure'," she said. The wall beside her slid open. She led the group inside to a long under ground room with rough stone walls and ceilings. On the opposite side a fire crackled in an elaborately carved mantle with carved chairs arranged around it. The girls were directed to one side and the boys to the other up a flight of stairs to their dormitory. Their trunks had already been brought up and now rested at the feet of four-poster beds with deep green curtains. After that very filling and satisfying meal they were too tired to talk much. They put on their pyjamas, crawled into bed and fell almost immediately asleep.


A.N.: 'Morsure' is French for snakebite.