Adalbert, Eloise. Always first, whether she wanted to be or not.
The short, frightened little girl pushed forward from the comfort of the crowd towards the towering old hat that whispered cheerfully into your ears and smelled funny.
"Hmmm, well, let's see now. Eloise Adalbert. Hmmmmm, yes. Not a bad head you've got there on those shoulders. Not the best I've seen, but still-" Elly felt her ears growing red under the stares of a hundred thousand eyes as the hat hemmed and hawed. Does it really matter so much? she thought impatiently, All this Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-mlumpf-mlumpfy, it's just weird. Who really cares?
"Hmm hmm," said the hat, trying not to laugh at her. "Well, your sense of humour could use a little tweaking, but you're dedicated, you've got enough drive in you to beat the smarty-pants off the best of them, and you wouldn't give up on your friends for the world. And with that, I hereby declare thee Lady - HUFFLEPUFF!"
Hufflepuff. The kind of name you would give your pet bunny, if you were the Sparkly-Jewel-Flash type.
----
"Please be seated," Dumbledore said, raising his hands in a welcoming gesture.
Dazed, Elly found herself squeezed between a tall, angular woman she seemed to remember as Professor Vector, the old Arithmancy Master, and Professor Sprout, the head of her former house, who was giving off a faint greenish smell. "Call me Pommie," Professor Sprout hissed into her ear with a warm smile. Professor Vector said nothing. Alfie was out of sight on the left of Dumbledore.
Two seats down, Professor Flitwick was also out of sight - all except for the very tip of his very pointy hat, which bobbed happily up and down as he chatted with the heavy-set wizard beside him, middle-aged but still looking fairly active. Here was a face she'd never seen before. Care of Magical Creatures, she thought vaguely. They always did have a higher turnover rate. In any case, he made no lasting impression on her the way that her empty dinner plate did. Her stomach rumbled.
She stared defiantly at the rippling blue banner over her head - Welcome to Hogwarts - Sorting Ceremony 1990. They were barely at Batwhack, Basil - Slytherin. No surprise there, somehow. Basil leered with joy and lumbered off to the far table to cheers and some polite hand-clapping from Snape. Why is it always the evil ones who go into Slytherin? she wondered quietly to herself. She'd have to ask the Hat if she ever got the chance. Slytherin had never entirely made sense to her. It was so obviously a training ground for little hoods and Death Eaters. It would cut the wizardly crime rate in half at least to simply get rid of it.
Professor Sprout broke out in a cheer for Fipp, Heather - Hufflepuff. A nice, ordinary looking girl. The kind who wouldn't celebrate her graduation several years later zipping around Hogsmeade around on a stolen broomstick guzzling spiked Butterbeer. The kind whose sense of fun wasn't ganging up on a little old witch to transfigure her hat into a Virginia Creeper. The normal kind.
"Isn't it such a joy, looking at all those happy, expectant little faces?" Sprout sighed nostalgically.
"It is indeed," agreed Flitwick beside her. "You wouldn't happen to have that lovely thick encyclopedia of herbology of yours on you, would you?"
"Left it in the greenhouse," Sprout said apologetically.
"Ah, well," Flitwick shrugged. "Just a thought."
"It's such a pity you weren't here last year," Sprout said with a sudden jab at Elly's ribs. "Albus gave such a beautiful speech - it brought us all to tears."
"Four times," said Professor Vector with a curt nod. Elly blinked and turned to look at her.
"Four times, yes," agreed Sprout. She interrupted herself to send out another cheer for Maldoon, Clara. "Where was I now?"
"Tears," said Elly. Forking yourself under the table - was it considered antisocial, psychotic behaviour if there was no one watching? Her fingers twitched under the table at the sight of Moonshine, Horace. With his sniggering snitchy smile and beady blue eyes, he would have made a really dark horse Gryffindor. Why do we even need the hat?
There was a drumroll, a conceited pause, the hall went silent, and then, here it was coming, here the Hat was quivering, here it was on the tip of his brim - SLYTHERIN!
There were cheers. Snape clapped.