"By George, this house is a veritable cesspool of talent!"
Gomez Addams
Chapter 6: The Sorting Hat
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. Erica was glad to see Professor McGonagall, even if she looked stern and strict in that moment. Several of the other first-years shifted, as if understanding immediately that this woman was not one to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big that Erica knew her house could fit in it five times over. The castle was as beautiful inside as it was outside. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, and the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
Erica felt she maybe should've been experiencing déjà vu, but in that moment, all she felt was wonder and awe and majesty.
The first-years followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Erica could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed them into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering around nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.
"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered on the chubby boy, Neville, whose cloak was fastened under his left ear, and a couple other students. Erica cringed, trying to smooth her curls. She was unsuccessful.
On either side of her, Seamus and Dean tugged at and straightened their robes.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber.
"I wonder how they do the Sorting?" Erica wondered.
She thought briefly about her Sorting at Ilvermorny. It had been more nerve-wracking than she had ever anticipated. She hoped this one was a little less intimidating.
"I don't know," Dean said. "Maybe it's a test of some sort?"
"I hope not," Seamus said. "Mam's been keeping the Sorting secret for years."
Erica bit her lip. She didn't think the Sorting was going to be a test. At least, she hoped not. Ilvermorny had been modeled after Hogwarts, so maybe the Sortings were similar? Still, she couldn't get the horrible idea of a test to stop nagging her. She looked around. All the other first-years looked terrified. All except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.
Erica tuned her out.
Then something happened that made every first-year jump about a foot in the air — several people screamed.
"What the — ?"
Erica gasped with delight.
Ghosts! Hogwarts had ghosts! A warm sense of familiarity washed over Erica. Ilvermorny had ghosts, too, and already, with the appearance of something familiar, Erica felt more at home in her new school.
There were about twenty ghosts that had appeared through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first-years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."
Erica smiled. If everyone in Hufflepuff was like Professor Sprout and the Fat Friar, then she wanted to be Sorted there.
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first-years, "and follow me."
Erica began to feel somewhere between ill and excited. She, Dean, and Seamus shuffled into the line and walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Erica felt her body begin to tingle.
Hogwarts' Great Hall was a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first-years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Erica looked up and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.
Erica had mixed feelings about the night sky now, but in that moment, all she saw was beauty.
She smiled wistfully around the Great Hall. The description of it in Hogwarts: A History was nothing compared to seeing it in person.
She just wished the book had said something about the Sorting. Why was it such a big mystery?
Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years. On top of the stool was a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Erica had to wonder how old the ugly thing was.
Everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, and the first-years began to stare as well. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then, the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Erica heard a red-haired boy hiss behind her. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Erica snorted quietly. She gathered that the red-head behind her was Ron Weasley, Fred Weasley's brother. Erica had met Fred Weasley exactly one time, but that did sound like something he would say to tease his little brother.
Erica was glad the Hogwarts Sorting was just trying on the Sorting Hat. But still, once she sat on the stool, she would be forced to stare at the hundreds of faces watching her.
The Sorting at Ilvermorny was different. At Ilvermorny, the first-years were led into the entry hall and one-by-one, were made to stand on the school seal. The rest of the school watched from the floors above, their stares bearing down on the first-years the entire time. Erica had been the first to be Sorted. She stood on the school seal, and the four statues representing the four Houses had evaluated her, before claiming her for their House.
In rare cases, more than one statue chose a student. That had happened to Erica. Three Houses had chosen Erica. The Wampus had roared, the jewel in the Horned Serpent's head had glowed, and the Pukwudgie had raised its arrow. Wampus House was reserved for warriors, representing the body of a witch or wizard. Horned Serpent represented the mind and favored scholars. Pukwudgie represented the heart and healers.
Erica chose Horned Serpent.
At Hogwarts, the Sorting seemed very different, though no less observed and spectated. Even the Houses themselves represented different things from Ilvermorny's Houses.
Erica, at first, had been glad that the Sorting at Hogwarts was to simply try on a hat and wait for a decision to be made. But now… She found the idea of a sentient, ancient hat evaluating her every thought a little… strange.
Ahh, well. It was magic. Magic was strange.
The applause died, and Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long scroll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
Erica breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't the first person. She was always the first person! That alone made this the best day of Erica's life.
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Erica saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Addams, Erica!"
This is it.
Erica stepped out of the line and forced her knees to stop shaking as she walked to the stool. Professor McGonagall's piercing eyes were on her, Professor Sprout smiled down at Erica from the High Table, and Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled with interest.
Erica took a deep breath and placed the hat on her head.
"Oooh!" a small voice suddenly hissed excitedly in her ear. "What's this? A young werewolf." Erica shifted uncomfortably at that. "I haven't sorted a werewolf in a long time."
"You sorted Remus Lupin?" Erica immediately thought.
The hat paused.
"Yes," it said. "Bright young lad, he was. I'm surprised you know of him, especially being from America. But then, the condition you share is the whole reason you're here at Hogwarts, isn't it?"
Erica flushed underneath the hat, choosing not to reply.
"Which House were you in at Ilvermorny?" the hat asked.
"Horned Serpent."
"Hmm," the hat mused. "The mind of a witch or wizard. But Pukwudgie and Wampus chose you as well, didn't they?"
The hat fell silent for a couple seconds.
"Yes," it continued, seemingly speaking to itself, "yes, I see it now. No other choice, really."
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The table at the far left exploded into cheers, and Erica rushed off to join them, flushing and smiling. She could've sworn she saw Professor McGonagall smile a bit, but when she turned to look, it wasn't there. Oh, well.
Erica sat herself down with her housemates, flushing a darker red as the Weasley twins openly cat-called and cheered obnoxiously for her. Eventually, they ceased, and the Sorting Ceremony continued.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the right began to cheer again.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second to the left began to cheer this time. Next was "Brocklehurst, Mandy," and she joined Ravenclaw House as well. After that, "Brown, Lavender" joined Erica at the Gryffindor table. Fred and George Weasley cheered for her as well.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" became the first Slytherin. Erica looked at the table second from the right. She had known she wouldn't be a good fit for Slytherin House, as she wasn't particularly ambitious or cunning, nor was she a pureblood (Hogwarts: A History had mentioned that Slytherin House was partial to witches and wizards of purer ancestry), but she was glad she hadn't been sorted there. A lot of them sat with their noses in the air, looking at the rest of the hall as if they smelled of moldy gym socks.
Erica wondered if they were really that stuck-up, or if they just didn't realize how they looked.
More and more first-years were sorted, and the amount of people waiting to be sorted was looking strangely small now. Others had joined Erica and Lavender at the Gryffindor table — Seamus, Hermione Granger, and a few others. Soon after that, the nervous Neville Longbottom joined them as well.
The next boy was the fastest Sorting Erica had ever seen at both Hogwarts or Ilvermorny. A boy named Draco Malfoy with white-blond hair and sharp features stepped up. It seemed the hat had barely touched his head before it shouted —
"SLYTHERIN!"
He went and sat with two troll-esque boys. He smirked, looking rather pleased with himself.
Nott (Slytherin) … Parkinson (Slytherin) … Patil (Ravenclaw) … Patil (Gryffindor) … were all sorted before a name Erica didn't expect to hear was called.
"Potter, Harry!"
The whispers that erupted were so loud that Erica's sensitive ears began to ring a little bit. The boy in question was small for an eleven-year-old, and Erica glimpsed his messy jet black hair before the hat slid down over his eyes.
Erica fell into her thoughts as Harry waited to be sorted. She certainly had not expected this. Harry Potter was in the same year as her. Sure, he was a couple years younger, but still. She'd had no idea. People knew his name even over in the United States. Of course they did. You-Know-Who had been mostly active in Europe, but they had feared him over in America as well. The whole world had been terrified of him. For years, people feared that he would leave Britain and Europe and invade the international magical community. So when a Dark wizard like Voldemort disappeared so suddenly and mysteriously, and an infant boy was supposedly responsible, the entire world had known about it.
The Boy Who Lived was truly famous.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Erica was jolted out of her thoughts when the hat shouted the name of her House. Well, now it was Harry's House too, she supposed. The entire table had burst into raucous applause. Fred and George Weasley even went as far as to stand on their seats, shouting around the Great Hall, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
Erica noticed that the boy seemed to be severely uncomfortable with the attention, as if he had never really received it before. Strange for a supposedly famous boy.
Only when people stopped shaking his hand and let him sit did Erica catch a glimpse at him. His eyes were bright emerald green.
Only four more first-years needed to be sorted now. After Harry Potter came Dean. He was quickly sorted into Gryffindor and slid into the seat next to Erica and across from Seamus. Then, Turpin, Lisa went to Ravenclaw.
"Weasley, Ronald!"
Ron was an awful pale green as he sat down on the stool. The hat slid down over his eyes. A second later —
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Everyone clapped, none more so than Fred and George and an older-looking redhead boy Erica assumed was Percy, as Ron slid into the seat next to Harry Potter. Percy Weasley congratulated his brother loudly while Zabini, Blaise, was sorted into Slytherin.
And just like that, the Sorting Ceremony was over.
"Where's the food?" Dean muttered beside Erica, looking at the empty golden plates, goblets, and platters.
Professor Dumbledore stood up. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you!"
He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Erica giggled lightly. She loved all his random ramblings.
Then, Erica was distracted by a wondrous smell hitting her nose. She looked down.
Food!
Plates and platters upon platters of food had magically appeared right in front of them. Dean and Erica exchanged a quick look and then dug in.
Erica loaded her plate full of everything she could see — roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, what looked like peppermints humbugs.
"Oh my god!" Erica moaned around a mouthful of lamb. The food was so good!
Erica was in heaven.
"That does look good," came a wistful sigh. Erica's cheeks bulged with potatoes as she looked up and saw the ghost from earlier — the one with the ruff.
"Can't you — ?"
"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost, answering Harry Potter's question. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" Ron Weasley said suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
Erica frowned lightly. What a strange moniker.
"I would prefer you call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but Seamus interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the Cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."
Erica looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting right next to Draco Malfoy, who didn't look happy with the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked with great interest.
"I've never asked," Nearly Headless Nick said delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam donuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…
Erica happily served herself a big slab of triple layer chocolate cake.
The conversation around the table turned to family.
"I'm half-and-half," Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
Everyone laughed.
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me — he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned — but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced — all the way down the garden and into the road." Erica was horrified, but Neville continued like it was no big deal. "They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here — they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
Erica began to feel full, sleepy, and content. She began looking at the High Table. She saw Professor Dumbledore speaking with Professor McGonagall. Hagrid the Gamekeeper was up there as well. Professor Sprout was in conversation with a little wizard with goblin-features. Down the table, there was a professor in a purple turban speaking to a professor in black robes with oily black hair, sallow skin, and a hooked nose.
He didn't look friendly.
Erica overheard Percy Weasley telling Harry Potter that the sallow man was Professor Snape, the Potions Master, and that he was talking to Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Erica felt her heart sink. That mean-looking man was the one who was going to be giving her her Wolfsbane potions?
A stone sat in her stomach, and Erica no longer felt quite as at ease.
She tried to ignore it, instead focusing on her cake.
Eventually, the desserts also disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Great Hall fell silent.
"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Professor Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."
Erica pouted. That had been a rule at Ilvermorny, too. She'd hoped maybe it would be different at Hogwarts.
Oh well.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
There were a few laughs, but for the most part, it was quiet.
"He's not serious?" Harry Potter whispered to Percy Weasley.
"Must be," Percy said, frowning at the headmaster. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."
Erica rolled her eyes. Someone sure thought well of himself.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Professor Dumbledore cried. Erica noticed that the other teachers' smiles had suddenly become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore said, "and off we go!"
And the school bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy Weasley through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Erica, Dean, and Seamus stuck together, all feeling heavy and full and sleepy. They waved at the moving portraits as the occupants whispered and pointed at the new students. Once or twice, Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet.
Erica had gotten used to stairs at Ilvermorny, but there were way more at Hogwarts.
The group came to a sudden stop.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first-years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself!"
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy said as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput draconis," Percy said.
And the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. Erica said goodnight to Dean and Seamus before following the rest of the girls up the spiral staircase. At the top — Erica loved the idea of living in a tower — there were different rooms marked with names.
Erica filtered into her dormitory behind Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil.
Four four-poster beds waited for them, hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up.
"Hi!" Lavender giggled as she found her bed, "I'm Lavender. This is Parvati."
"I'm Hermione Granger," the bushy-haired girl introduced.
"Erica," came the final introduction.
All three girls blinked at Erica's accent, then jumped into questions about what it was like to live in America.
Erica answered them until a yawn crept up on her. After that, it was agreed that they would all get to bed. Classes started tomorrow, and they all wanted to be well-rested for their first day.
Erica quickly changed into her pajamas and burrowed under the thick, red duvet.
She was at Hogwarts. And you know what? She was looking forward to every moment she had here.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
Hey all! Here's the next chapter. Let me know what you think! :D
Sammiemoosam
