"First years! First years over here!" a gruff voice called out.
James, still in line to get off the Hogwarts Express, craned his neck, looking for the source of the voice.
He spotted Hagrid, a family friend and gamekeeper at Hogwarts, swinging an enormous lantern and bellowing out.
"First years! Haven't got all day you know!" Hagrid hollard.
"Hagrid!" James shouted gleefully springing from the train onto the platform.
"Not so fast," a slightly accented voice said, and an arm grabbed James from behind. He turned to see his cousin Dominique, grinning broadly at him.
"Got a minute, Jamie-boy?" she asked.
"Don't call me Jamie-boy," he protested, "I'm too old for that."
"Whatever, Jamie-boy," Dominique rolled her eyes. "I need to talk to you."
"I've got to go to Hagrid."
"He can wait," she waved over James' head to Hagrid who waved back, a smile forming under his bushy and tangled beard.
"Seeing as you're about to be sorted, I want to give you some advice," Dominique offered.
James, as reluctant as he was to talk to his cousin, was always willing to take some friendly advice, especially about something as important as the sorting.
"Ok, what is it?" he asked impatiently.
"Don't end up in Slytherin, or I'll be forced to never speak to you again," she smiled teasingly at him, "Are we clear on that?"
"Is Slytherin bad?" James asked, trying to rack his brain to remember what his father had told him about each of the houses. He couldn't seem to remember anything negative being said about any one of them.
Dominique stuck her tongue out, "Oh the worst! Stuck up pinheads, those Slytherin folk. Come to think of it, anyone who isn't a Gryffindor is kind of a loser."
"Lucy's a Ravenclaw," James protested.
"And a total prat," Dominique laughed, and for once, James couldn't argue with her.
"I don't think I have any control over where I end up," James said fretfully.
"Oh, you'd be surprised."
"What do you mean?" But before Dominique could answer, Hagrid's voice echoed loudly through the crowd of assembled students.
"Last call for first years! Last call!"
"You've got to go," Dominique gave James a little push. "Later, Jamie!"
"It's James!" he protested, but she was gone.
James hurried over to Hagrid, who was boarding the last boat of first years.
"Ah! There you are, James," Hagrid pulled the boy in for a hug, smothering him in the folds of his enormous coat. "What's the hold up?"
"Dominique wanted to talk to me," James said evasively as the giant lifted him into the rowboat and clambered in after him.
Hagrid grunted, "Always liked her. Got a way with the half-humans that I myself don't have."
"Half-humans?" James himself was only half listening, keeping an eye out for the castle.
"Yeah, half-humans. Centaurs, merfolk, that kind of thing. Pay attention now, it's just around the corner."
James perked up interestedly, noticing the shadow of soft yellow light already being cast upon the rocks ahead.
And then, suddenly, like a ship on the horizon, Hogwarts castle rose, a glittering, spiraling beacon in all of its gold-soaked glory.
Towers and spirals dotted the very heights of the building. They were spotty and confused, a few of them appeared to be leaning or even built off of one and other.
"That there," Hagrid pointed to one of the larger, more stable towers, "That's where you'll be staying. The Gryffindor dormitories. You know your cousin is a prefect this year?"
"Yeah, Victoire," James said. "Teddy was right excited that they'd be working together. Couldn't stop talking about it. He's weird like that sometimes."
Hagrid chuckled, though James couldn't understand why. "I imagine he's very excited to see more of her."
"I guess. Victoire's nice."
Hagrid, still amused by the mention of Teddy and Victoire, said nothing more, although a small smile still lingered on his face. Every now and then he'd let out a soft laugh and say something vague like, "well I'll be."
James was too transfixed on the castle to notice.
It was all too soon that the ride came to an end, and the last of the rowboats bumped up against the rocky shore of the beach.
"Everybody out! Follow me! First years this way!" Hagrid continued to direct the mass of nervous, and now slightly soaked, first years up a jagged ridge of stone steps to the great doors of Hogwarts castle.
"Here you go," he grunted coming to a halt. "Front hall. Now wait here and Professor Tweelingen will be with you in a minute."
Waving jovially to James, he disappeared into the Great Hall, whistling a soft tune and swinging a pink umbrella.
James shifted uneasily, then noticed Fred and Roxanne standing a short way off. Wiggling his way through the crowd, he came up beside them.
"Alright?"
Fred jumped slightly, "Oh, I'm alright. Just a little nervous."
He certainly looked nervous, his normally pale, freckled face had become a sickly green, giving the distinct impression that he was only moments away from vomiting.
"I wouldn't be nervous," James reassured him. "Dominique says only stuck up pinheads end up anywhere other than Gryffindor. Us three'll end up with her, just you wait."
Roxanne frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a delicate cough.
An incredibly thin woman stood at the front of the entrance hall, guarding the large double doors to the feast.
She would have appeared a delicate and frail creature were it not for her incredible height. She towered over children and adults alike, and as a result was always looking down the end of her nose rather menacingly.
Dressed all in black, there was something formidable about her, and those expressionless blue eyes, which seemed to have nothing even remotely sentimental behind them, only added to this impression.
"I," the woman began rather dryly, "am Professor Tweelingen. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and am the head of Ravenclaw."
James looked at Roxanne, "What do you think?"
She turned to him solemnly, "I think that I don't want to be in Ravenclaw."
James nodded sagely and looked back at Professor Tweelingen, who was wrapping up a summary of the four houses.
"And remember, children, no matter where you end up, you remain part of a complete Hogwarts community which promotes camaraderie and a spirit of cooperativeness," this last part she said as if the words were being very painfully forced out of her.
Something told James that perhaps Professor Tweelingen was not a believer in the complete Hogwarts community. That was alright by him. If Domonique was to be believed, there was no such thing anyways.
The doors to the Great Hall swung open and the quivering first years filed through silently. James found himself caught in the middle, propelled forward by those around him. His legs had gone numb for some inexplicable reason.
As he passed the Hufflepuff table, he spotted Teddy, who smiled and waved. James tried to wave back, but his arm felt like lead, and was too heavy to lift.
At the very front of the Hall was a crooked stool with a shabby old hat sitting atop it. Professor Tweelingen stood next to the hat, her mouth fixed into a thin straight line.
"When I call your name," she said, "you will sit on the stool and I will place the hat on your head. You will then be sorted and go to sit with your allocated house. We will go in alphabetical order."
Clearing her throat, she held the hat aloft in one hand, and in the other shook out a list of names written on parchment.
"Emily Alder."
Emily Alder was absolutely angelic looking. Her blond hair was styled in long ringlets which reached the midpoint of her back. Her eyes were bright blue and round, with a curious and innocent look to them. And her small pink mouth was usually turned into a sweet smile.
However, at that moment, Emily Alder looked like she'd seen a vision of her own death. Several students had to gently nudge her forward to get her moving.
Stumbling, Emily made her way up to the platform, where she landed rather heavily upon the stool. The Sorting Hat was unceremoniously dumped on her head and slouched low over her eyes.
Had it been placed a bit farther back, everyone could have seen the tears brimming around the corners.
The hat didn't take too long to make up its mind, "Hufflepuff!"
Emily shakily rose to her feet, a weak smile on her face as she hurried away to the Hufflepuff table, where she was met with a smattering of applause and many reassuring hugs from the older girls.
By the time they were halfway through the sorting, James' nerves had been elevated to a level that was almost unmanageable. And then he heard his own name called.
There were a few whispers when his name was called. James was used to that. His father was a very famous and important person. The story had been told to him at every bedtime since he could remember. And it was a good one too.
Harry Potter had saved the world.
His Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were supposed to also be very important people, but not as important as his dad. Even his mom was famous for more than her Quidditch skills.
But the name Weasley did not hold as much weight as the name Potter did, at least not at Hogwarts. There were already so many of them there that the name had all but lost its novelty.
The name "Potter" was a different story. And James, like so many times before, found the entire room staring at him curiously, like he was a display in a storefront.
Trying to hide his nerves and avoid the eyes of everyone in the room, James took his seat on the stool.
The last thing he saw before the hat was placed on his head was Dominique, giving him a reassuring thumbs up from her place in the crowd.
Then the Sorting Hat was placed on his head and James could see nothing except for the rough, leathery darkness of the inside of the hat.
"Ah, yes," the Sorting Hat's voice was deep and smooth, yet it had a dangerous and threatening quality to it. As if it were a mere moment away from latching onto your head and never letting go. Its voice reverberated throughout James' head.
"Er, hello," James thought, feeling stupid for talking to a hat.
"Well aren't we an interesting case," the hat seemed to think that was a clever thing to say, because it began to laugh.
James resented that greatly, "I think I'm a pretty obvious case," he said defiantly, momentarily forgetting his nerves.
"Yes, I suppose you are. But it is up to you after all, isn't it?" the hat admitted.
"It is?" James couldn't remember anyone telling him he got to choose what house he was in.
"Ultimately, yes," the hat admitted. "But I can provide you some advice if you'd like. I've got my own ideas about where you should be."
"I already know where I want to be."
"Well then I suppose that's enough, isn't it? Alright, I suppose you're best suited to…" the Sorting Hat paused dramatically.
"Gryffindor!"
The hat's voice echoed throughout the hall, and there was an immediate burst of applause from the Gryffindor table. Professor Tweelingen removed the hat from his head, and did her best impression of a warm smile. It looked like she was grimacing in pain, but James gave her credit for trying.
Hopping off the stool, James rushed over to the Gryffindor table, feeling an immense sense of relief. Dominique let out a loud whoop, turning James' face crimson.
Victoire immediately snatched him up and embraced him, "Oh, Jamie! You're going to love being in Gryffindor! Here, sit down."
"Don't call me Jamie," he huffed angrily, taking his seat next to a boy named Jerry Mackay.
"Rebecca Sims!" Professor Tweelingen called out.
"Oh," James turned to Victoire. "I met her on the train. She's a right git."
"Is she?" Victoire was only pretending to listen, she was busy scanning the hall, as if she was looking for someone.
Rebecca sat uneasily on the stool, the hat covering her eyes.
The hat took only a moment before reaching its final verdict.
"Slytherin!"
"Told you."
"Funny," Victoire was clearly not listening to a word James was saying, causing him to angrily poke her in the arm.
"Who are you looking for?"
Victore blushed, "Nobody. I was just, um, forget it."
"Weirdo," James muttered as Victoire turned her attention back towards the Hufflepuff table, though James, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why.
