Chapter Three: Sorting

I think I'd better explain the way the school was run. We had a Sorting Hat, too, but ours was one of those Muggle magician's top hats, bespelled to sing (of course) the name of the student and what college they were Sorted into. The colleges were named after famous Muggle schools, just like some of the Muggle high schools are set up. There were four, and you were randomly placed: you could be in Radcliffe, famous for Helen Keller, with its elephant seal mascot; you could be in Fordham, with its mallard duck; you could be in Prescott Pointe, with its grizzly bear; or you could be put into Davis, with its hammerhead shark.

We'd be Sorted on the first day of our music years, to get us used to being in colleges for our magic years, which was when we'd be able to play Quidditch. (Every child wished to be on the College Team.) A Magister or Magistra would line us up, not in any particular order, then would hand the first one in line the Hat. "Travis Ramsey, you are in Fordham" it would sing, or "Elisabeth Garnet for Davis" and so on. Cat and Try were both sung into Radcliffe. When it came to me, however, the Hat was silent for many minutes. I was so afraid that the Hat would reject me, and I'd have to leave the Acadame and the only home I'd ever known (well, remembered, anyway). I caught the eye of Magister Connelly, and he nodded and went for Magistra Archon.

I sat there in full view of the entire school, with half the class still to be Sorted, blushing to the roots of my flame-colored hair (it's the color of all flames, from the black, blue, and green of cold through the purple and white of mid-range all the way to the red, orange, and yellow of most intense heat). Magistra Archon swooped up, plucked the Hat from my head, and placed it on her own, then held a silent conversation with it. Her face went white, and then she shakily set the Hat back on my head. I attempted to ask her what was wrong, but the Hat decided to Sort me then. "Melantha Cardigan Potter, you are to be in Radcliffe, but only until your third year of magic. After that, I cannot say. Only the Hogwarts Sorting Hat may." It sang so softly, Magister Connelly standing four steps away could barely hear it, and Magistra Archon's eyes went wide.

The school started whispering as I handed the Hat back to Magister Connelly and sat at the Radcliffe table. I did not hear the rest of the Sorting, for my mind was still on what the Hat had called me. Jakkin jumped into my lap and attempted to comfort me, but there was no comfort to be had. Why had the Hat called me Melantha Cardigan Potter? So far as I knew, my name was and always had been simply Melantha Cardigan. I had of course heard of the famous boy Harry Potter (who hadn't?), who had survived a killing curse from the most powerful evil wizard of the age, and reduced that wizard to a shadow. But what had he to do with me? To my understanding, to the whole world's understanding, he was an only child. So how was I called by his last name?

The next morning, Magistra Archon called me into her office. She said that she had sent a message by carrier pigeon to Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, explaining the situation, and he would be returning one soon. It was all quite confusing, as nothing like this had ever happened in the Acadame's one hundred-seventy-five-year history, but Magistra Archon had faith that Professor Dumbledore would straighten everything out. Meanwhile, I would attend music and then magic years normally, with Catlyn and Tryna Barns at my side. She made me promise I would be their shadow, and they my shepherds, during my years at Songsmith. I nodded faithfully, not quite understanding the reason for the harsh security measures, but knowing that Magistra Archon would not ask silly things of me.