Chapter 4: Sorting
"Harry? What are you doing?" Hermione watches me as I hop around, removing my shoes as we wait for an answer.
"I don't think I really have an answer for you." I say whilst subtly depositing my shoes and socks into the fountain.
The giant doors slowly open to reveal an elderly woman dressed in fine green robes, the whole look is imposing and topped off with a pointed hat.
"Firs' years, Professor McGonagall." The giant man says dutifully.
"Thank you, Hagrid." She turns to look at us with intense scrutiny. "Follow me, please." An order more than a request. We move forward, trying to keep up with her lengthy gait. The castle is just as amazing inside as it is out. Each step holds a thousand words as we walk to reach another set of giant doors.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," She says after letting us pool together "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." She casts her eyes over us again.
"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 honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." She pauses for another moment. "Wait here, I shall be back to collect you shortly." She slips through the huge doors.
"Potter, Where are your shoes?" I turn to Draco, who is frowning at my feet. My name earns a couple of whispers.
"I've always found shoes to be quite, shall we say, restricting?" I say distractedly. Every stone in the castle oozes magical secrets, desperately trying to tell me what they've seen. The sieges against the castle, great creatures trying to tear down it's walls. The centuries of students and teachers passing through the hallways, friendships forming and ending at every turn. Jokes played on house mates, giggling girls rushing by the charming young men. Misty forms slowly solidify around myself and the students. A rotund man laughing merrily with young students wearing robes not dissimilar to my own, nobody else seems the least bit worried by the aberrations. The man suddenly stops as his face contorts, I can only watch in bated horror as he falls backwards, thrashing on the floor for a moment. He stills for a second before his body raises up, looking straight at me.
"New students! About to be sorted I suppose?" This time the other first years jump in fright. The fat man looks at me oddly before shaking his head. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know." I distantly hear Hermione calling them ghosts as Professor McGonagall shoos them away. They both take a glance at me as they retreat.
"The sorting ceremony is about to begin. Please form a line." She waits patiently as he form a single file line, I somehow get pushed to the front. She looks down at my feet with disdain, I smile cheekily as the doors are pushed open.
The last remnants of the conversations die out as I lead out nervous party into the hall, a great one. I vaguely note that the ceiling seems to be missing as I look at the other students. There is an odd sort of … humming going on. Not the normal kind of humming though, the kind I generally associate with my power. It's like the air muttering. The hat beside Professor McGonagall starts 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 folks 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 hall breaks into a light applause. A singing hat – A very dirty and very old singing hat.
"When I call your name you put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." McGonagall somehow manages to say this with a straight face. "Abbot, Hannah." A suppress a wince. 'Abbot' – Forever doomed to be the first name called. A red-headed girl rushes past me, her face doing it's best to match the colour of her hair. She quickly sits on the stool and the hat drops over her eyes. The line behind me forms into a huddle.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouts, the hall bursts into applause. I stop clapping as I realise none of the other first years are. McGonagall retrieves the hat and points to the right table, Hannah quickly sits down as the clapping subsides. The fat Hufflepuff ghost stands at the end of the table, watching the proceedings with a merry smile.
"Bones, Susan." A girl breaks out of our bunch and hurries towards the stool.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hats proclaims after barely a moment of sitting on her head. Susan scuttles away, seating herself between Hannah and an older girl with bright pink hair.
"Boot, Terry." Terry nervously walks steps forward. This is a hideously inefficient way of sorting.
"RAVENCLAW!" The hall claps as Terry sits down as the newest Ravenclaw, shaking hands with his house-mates.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy." Is called up next. I try and the unsettling feeling from watching the fat ghost die. Perhaps this is another evolution of my power, I had a similar sinking feeling in my stomach when I first started to differentiate magical and non-magical and the most recent addition of feeling the emotions behind objects such as the cart under Gringotts. Millicent Bulstrode is sorted into Slytherin.
"Finch-Fletchey, Justin." Bloody wizards. Why not use more hats? Even 2 hats would be quicker. The hat finally decides upon Hufflepuff for him.
"Granger, Hermione."
"Good luck." I mutter as she excitedly hurries past me. I suppose luck doesn't really factor into it, we're all bound for a house.
"Oi, mate." A seated student whispers, I look down to see two identical ginger boys, a few years older, grinning at me.
"Where're your shoes?" The other asks. I look down at me feet and fake an exclamation.
"Cor, somebody's nicked my shoes!" I whisper back. They stifle their laughter.
I cast my eyes over the staff table. Old and young, very short and very tall. The giant man, Hagrid, has somehow found his seat before the sorting, Probably snuck through a secret bookshelf. I suppress a snort at the thought of Hagrid trying to sneak anywhere.
I'm not sure which house I would fall into. I don't really see myself as brave, perhaps Hufflepuff then? A more friendly house. Ravenclaw would run parallel with my pursuit of knowledge, but is that my defining trait? It's more that I absorb knowledge, quite literally. Even Slytherin might find a place for me, Dumbledore did say that it was the serpent house, maybe I could find a decent conversation there? I certainly won't be drawing one from -
"Malfoy, Draco." McGonagall snatches the words from my head.
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouts instantly, seemingly eager to removes itself from his head. There aren't many of us left now. The twins start to flick pieces of paper at a ginger boy behind me, their brother by the looks of things.
"Potter, Harry."There we go.
"Harry Potter?" "Did she say Potter?" "Over there, with the messy hair!" "Where are his shoes?"
I quickly walk forward, trying to make this archaic sorting method go as quickly as possible, I'm sure the others are hungry. The stool radiates fear and anxiety as I sit on it. The hat is dropped on my head.
"Gah!" It shouts in my head, I have to stop myself from crying out too.
"You-" I start.
"I-"
"How-"
"What the devil?"
"I'm just-"
"Gah!" It shouts again. "Never in all my years have I ever had a student try and sort me!"
"Sort you?" I say, or think. "You're looking inside me – reading me."
"It's how I sort." The hat huffs. "You're the anomaly here, I see this power of yours." It says.
"So you can do what I do?" I try to ignore the flurry of information that flows into my head. Created in 1000AD by Rowena Ravenclaw because they wanted a better way of sorting students. She accomplished the whole task in 39 days.
"That's much more than I can do. I merely see the memories of whosoever I am placed upon. What you do is much, much more." It says mysteriously. "I see that you are disappointed, my apologies."
"Oh, it's not all bad." I give a mental shrug. "Although I can see that you've been vomited into 3 times, so forgive me for not wanting you on my head for much longer."
"Yes, quite why one would go for the hat, I don't know." It sighs. "Well then. Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage – a sharp mind too. Oh ho ho, the thirst to prove yourself. Wise beyond your years, very much so. You would do well in any house, but-"
"You've got a sword inside you." I interrupt. "That's err … Not a common thing for hats. Godric's sword – Godric's LOST sword. I'll erm keep that to myself."
"I see not much is hidden from you, Young Potter." The hat laughs in it's gravelly voice. "But it'd better be..."
A/N: Cliffhanger! I've not actually decided on which house Harry will be in yet.
A bit of a short chapter, but i say a short one is better than none. Enjoy!