Chapter 3: The Sorting
Authors Note:
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters do not belong to me
The Great Hall was lit by, quite possibly, millions of candles, floating in the air above the four, long, crowded, tables. As they were led down the central aisle towards the top table, Harry found himself focussing on the starry ceiling, Miss Hermione whispering about it to Neville. When they finally reached the front, Professor McGonagall set a four-legged stool down, along with an old, dirty, wizard's hat. Instantly, the chattering students fell silent, staring intensely at said hat.
After a moment, the hat moved. A rip opened, and a surprisingly pleasant baritone filled the air.
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!
As soon as the song ended, the Hall erupted in applause, and the hat dipped his point in appreciation, before settling back.
Then, Professor McGonagall was stepping forwards with a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will come forward, put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she explained, before beginning, going through them alphabetically by last name.
Realising this, Harry zoned out, preferring instead to watch the reactions from the teachers, only to be pulled back as Miss Hermione practically ran up to the stool and jammed the hat on her head. After a while, where she appeared to be arguing, the hat called out 'GRYFFINDOR'. She practically flounced over to the cheering red and gold table, sending Harry a glare as she went.
Harry shrugged internally, before returning to his teacher-watching. Soon enough, his name was called, causing hushed whispers to break out, and the muddy red-head to stare at him in shock. Not liking the attention, Harry hurried forwards, towards the sanctuary of the hat, trying to control his panic. Years of being a Pet had taught him not to be noticed – that bad things were more likely to happen.
"Hmm," a quiet voice murmured in his ear. "Tricky one, aren't you? Not a bad mind, Loyal, but only to a certain degree, Courage, yes there is some, Talent, oh yes, now, where to put you..?"
Paling, Harry desperately gripped the edge of the stool.
"Gryffindor. I need to be with Miss Hermione, please."
"Oh, a Pet! Yes, I rather think you should go to GRYFFINDOR." the hat called, much to Harry's relief.
Thanking the hat softly, Harry hurried to join Miss Hermione, paying no attention to the various antics of his new housemates. Before he could sit down, however, his hand was grabbed by a red-haired Prefect, who didn't seem to want to let him go. And, when he was finally allowed to sit, a ghost patted his arm! Had these people never heard of personal space?
Once the Hall had quieted down (and, why had it got so loud? They hadn't acted this way for the others), the Sorting continued. For Harry, it was nerve-wracking. Students all round the Hall would keep glancing at him, before devolving into whispers with their friends. All he wanted was to hide behind his book!
Finally, the headmaster rose to his feet, beaming out across the Hall, his arms opened wide.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year here at Hogwarts! Now, before we enjoy our wonderful banquet, I'd like to say a few words. And here they are. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" he sat down to cheers and applause.
Harry blinked, before internally shrugging.
"He is...sane...isn't he?" Miss Hermione asked slowly.
"Oh, yes, no need to worry! The man's a genius, you know what they say about them. Percy Weasley, Gryffindor Prefect," Percy waved her concern aside, before shaking her hand. "Any issues, just let me know! Potatoes, Harry?" he smiled, before loading Harry's plate, completely missing Miss Hermione's annoyance.
"Um, thanks?" Harry squeaked, before ducking behind his potions textbook.
Percy frowned, obviously having wanted to continue talking, before Miss Hermione started talking about lessons. Harry happily tuned out the goings on around him in favour of reading about the Cure for Boils again. He was so engrossed, he completely missed the arrival, and disappearance, of pudding. In fact, it wasn't until the headmaster started talking again that Harry realised dinner had ended!
"Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices for you all." the headmaster twinkled happily down at them. "First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is strictly forbidden to all pupils. A few of our older students would do well to remember this. I have also been asked by our caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors. Also, if you would like to view it, that the list of Prohibited Items has been put up outside Mr. Filch's office – I understand that this makes for rather interesting reading. Quidditch trials shall be held in the second week of term, all those interested should contact Madame Hooch. And finally, I must warn you that this year, the third-floor charms corridor is out of bounds, to all who do not wish a painful death."
At this, the Hall burst into whispers and scattered laughter. Harry blinked up at the head table in shock, and slight confusion. Wasn't this a school?
"And now, let us sing the school song before departing for bed!" Dumbledore cried happily, the rest of the teachers barely hiding their displeasure.