The door swung open immediately. A tall, dark grey-haired witch in forest green robes stood. A stern look was etched on her face and she possessed an aura of authority.
"The new firs-years, Professor McGonagall," said the man.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." The woman pulled the door wide open, allowing the new students to see inside for the first time.
The entrance hall was large, about the same as Wayne Manor's entrance room. The walls were made of stone and lit with flaming torches that hung from wall sconces, the ceiling seemed to be transparent as Harry could see the night sky above twinkling with stars, and an impressive marble staircase faced them which led to the upper floors.
Harry could hear the chatter of people in the next room, likely to be the other students, as Professor McGonagall led them across the room and into small chamber room.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, her voice carrying through the room with no effort. "The start-of-term feast will begin soon. But before that you must be sorted into your houses. Your house will be like your family for your time at Hogwarts. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house's common room."
She stopped, looking around to make sure everyone was paying attention. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin." Harry noticed the way her mouth twitched and the mention of Slytherin. "Each house has its own history and has produced many great and well-known witches and wizards. While you are here, you will earn house points by doing good, and lose them for breaking rules. The house with the most points at the end of the year will win the house cup. The sorting ceremony will commence in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. Do try to make yourselves presentable."
Harry thought the house system was absurd. A few years ago, he had just been adopted by Bruce Wayne, and years before that, he was a scared child living with the Dursleys. His personality had changed so much with each iteration of himself, and now he was being sorted at age eleven to decide his 'family' for the next seven years.
McGonagall left, and the room began to talk between themselves. Harry turned to Ron and asked, "How do they sort us?"
Ron shrugged nervously. "Not sure, Fred and George told me we had to fight a troll, but I'm pretty sure they were joking."
Hermione scoffed loudly. "A troll? Please, that would be a death sentence for a first-year student. And if you'd read Hogwarts: A History, you would know we're sorted by the Sorting Hat."
"The Sorting Hat?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, but her reply was drowned out by the shrieks and screams of the other students. Harry looked, and saw about twenty ghosts who had phased through the wall and into the room. Their skins were pearly-white and mostly transparent, and none of them seemed too interested in the first-year students. Harry looked at them, there was a man wearing a neck ruff and tights, a jolly fat man who seemed to be a monk, a man covered in blood, and a woman who seemed uninterested by everything. A group of spectral nuns passed followed by a ghostly knight.
The monk was talking to the ghost in the ruff. "Forgive and forget, we ought to give Peeves another chance."
The ruff ghost shook his head, which seemed to move far more than it should. "My dear Friar, we have given him all the chances he deserves - I say what are you all doing in here?" The ghost said as he noticed the first-years.
Nobody answered, and the silence filled the air as the ghosts stared.
"New students," the monk shouted in realisation. "About to be sorted presumably."
A few students nodded, still silent.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff, my old house." The monk smiled warmly.
"Move along," Professor McGonagall's voice sounded, showing her return. The ghosts obeyed flying through the opposite wall. Once the room was full of only the living McGonagall commanded, "Now, form a line and follow me."
Heavy footed with nerves, Harry stood behind Hermione and in front of Ron, and the line walked out of the chamber, back across the entrance hall and into the Great Hall.
Harry had thought he had been seasoned the unusual, being raised by a crime fighting man in a batsuit and now around magic, but he was wrong.
The room was lit by thousands of candles which were floating in the air above four long tables, where the rest of the Hogwart's students were sat. The tables were laid with golden plates, with cutlery laid out, and goblets next to the plates.
At the far end of the hall were the Hogwart's staff, with Harry recognising Professor Quirrell and Hagrid. Dumbledore sat in the middle, looking just like his chocolate frog card, smiling and grandfatherly.
The line stopped at the teacher's table, facing the other students. To stop anybody looking and recognising him, Harry stared at the starry ceiling above him.
Hermione whispered to him, "It's not actually a view of outside, it's enchanted to look like it."
Harry looked back down, as McGonagall placed a stool on the floor in front of the new students. On top of the stool, she placed an old pointed wizard's hat, which was tattered and dirtied, to the point of resembling one of Alfred's rag washcloths.
How does that decide where we go? Harry questioned himself.
The room was silent, and then the hat twitched. The rip near the bottom of the hat tore open like a mouth, and began to sing.
The whole room was full of applause when the hat finished its song, and it bowed to each table. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a long parchment in her hand. "When I read your name, put on the hat, and sit and the stool to be sorted," she instructed. "Abbott, Hannah."
The blonde pigtailed girl stumbled out the line and to the hat. The hat sat on her head, covering her eyes, for a few seconds, before loudly yelling, "Hufflepuff!"
The table to the right erupted into applause as Hannah approached, and the monk ghost waved merrily.
Harry zoned out, choosing to focus when a name he recognised was called. When Hermione left for the hat, she pulled it eagerly over her head, and sat in silence for nearly a minute before the hat announced, "Gryffindor!"
Neville was called, and he fell clumsily to the floor on his way over. The hat was quiet for longer than it was with Hermione before he joined the bushy haired girl in Gryffindor.
Malfoy strutted proudly when he was called, and the hat barely skimmed his head before he was put in Slytherin.
"Wayne, Harry," shouted McGonagall.
Harry stepped forwards, and the room broke into hush whispers.
"Is that Potter?"
"She said Wayne."
"I can see the scar."
Harry dropped the hat over his eyes, making sure he could not see those who were looking at him.
"Interesting," said a small voice in his ears which seemed to reverberate through his mind. "Very difficult, Mr Wayne."
"You're in my head?" Harry half asked half stated.
"Indeed, I am."
"You can see everything?"
"If you are referring to Bruce Wayne's secret, yes I see. It is of no concern of mine. I am more concerned with your mind."
Harry relaxed. "What do you see in my head then?"
The hat laughed. "I see much," it answered. "The courage and bravery of a Gryffindor, the ambition and cunning of Slytherin, the hard-working attitude of Hufflepuff, and the intelligence and perception of a Ravenclaw."
"Where do you think I'll fit best?" Harry queried.
"I think that is obvious."
Harry agreed as the hat yelled it's choice, "Best be … " (Comment for the house you think Harry should be in)