Harry was awestruck as he walked up the stairs with the other first years. Although he had already taken part in a boat trip on his way to the school with the other first years, and had already seen the castle from the outside - rendering him speechless still - was nothing compared to what the inside of the building offered. Several figures moving inside of paintings, moving armour knights and even just the vibe was truly magical in Hogwarts. He wasn't even really paying attention to Professor McGonagall, an elderly, stern-looking witch who was telling them about the importance of getting sorted, which, ultimately, did raise his attention.

When he had learned about the four Hogwarts' Houses on his trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, he didn't give as much thought to the sorting as he did to getting a wand and doing magic for example. On the other hand, every time he did think about getting sorted, it made him feel anxious.

He was worrying he wouldn't fit into any of the Houses. Slytherin was obviously out of question. Ravenclaw seemed decent, but he didn't necessarily want to study all that much. Gryffindor seemed like the most fitting place for him, but he somehow didn't feel like he could ever belong in that House… Possibly because, while he loved his parents, he didn't want to become an exact copy of them. If the Hat would place me in Gryffindor, I would never know whether it was because of my own personality, or rather because the decision was influenced by my parents, he thought, as McGonagall ordered the students to wait in the room and left.

Then something happened which made him jump about a foot in the air, whilst several people behind him screamed. About twenty ghosts had just floated through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to each other and hardly glancing at the first years who were staring at them with their mouths agape. They seemed to be arguing. One of them, who looked like a fat little monk, was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance, as we can't know for sure he won't improve his behaviour."

"But, my dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves and even more? He gives us all a bad reputation and, you know, he's not even a 'real' ghost… he's a poltergeist which is very different… hey what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years and fixed his gaze on them.

Nobody answered. Harry glanced over to Granger, but even she seemed to be taken aback by the sudden sight of ghosts to say anything.

"New students!" shouted 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, beaming at them. "It's my old House, you know."

Why is he so proud of this? Harry thought, feeling confused. Based on his knowledge, Hufflepuff had the least competent students out of all four. While he didn't even admit it to himself, he feared that he would get sorted into Hufflepuff almost as much as he wanted to avoid Slytherin, albeit that one had different reasons. He would have been fine with Ravenclaw, though he didn't think that it'd be a perfect fit for him. In spite of all his thoughts about only copying his parents, he found himself secretly hoping that he would end up in Gryffindor, which annoyed him a great deal.

He hadn't much time left to ponder on these thoughts, as the ghosts all disappeared through the wall when McGonagall came back and instructed them to follow her in a line.

"We are almost there… this is the Great Hall, where all of you are going to get sorted very soon… and here it is," McGonagall said as she opened a huge pair of double doors with a flick of her wand.

"Ohhhh…" Excited murmurs from several first years broke the silence as they entered. Harry, on the other hand, didn't let out even as much as the smallest sound. Instead he was just staring in front of him, as if he would be trying to memorise what he saw in that exact moment. That he did, until he realised that he was outright gaping at his surroundings, which made him close his mouth and turn around. That, in turn, resulted in the conclusion that the Hogwarts Great Hall was a very special place even among magicians, given that Ron was still gaping up towards the ceiling, which was pitch-black and dotted with shiny little stars.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," he heard Granger whispering loudly.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles which were floating mid-air over four long tables where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets, and at the back 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 like misty silver. Harry felt a bit awkward by all of the stares from the upper years, so he fixed his gaze on the tip of his left shoe, until he heard a weird voice sing.

"Be you short or tall,

Large or small;

I am the Hat

That is here to sort you all.

I am here to choose the table

Where you will be sat,

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!

If you are academically able,

Hard-working, wise, and smart,

Gryffindor is where you fit the part.

If you are crafty and sly,

Always willing to reach for the sky,

Hufflepuff is where your loyalties lie.

If you are friendly, loyal and true,

Slytherin is the place for you.

If you are brave

And adventure is what you crave,

Ravenclaw is the home of such a knave.

So put me on and meet your fate.

Make haste, don't be late,

Take care

And begin this adventure if you dare…"

The singer was a patchy, old hat sitting on top of a stool. Its voice made Harry think of the old drunkards from the pubs, who were always sitting there drinking all the time. Petunia had once been shouting at him for half an hour, when he told one of them what time it was after he had asked. Apparently, no matter how much of a freak he was, he shouldn't have even interacted with a "dirty old beggar", as Petunia called him.

It seemed like the Hat's song had made an interesting impact because almost everyone began whispering among each other. It's really ironic that I'm very new in the Wizarding World and the thing I'm least surprised about is the fact there is a singing Hat, Harry thought, feeling amused, when he felt a tap on his shoulder, which made him turn around.

"Harry, have you heard this? The Hat…"

"Attention, everyone!" Professor McGonagall didn't let Ron finish his sentence, as she stepped forward with a long parchment. "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and will put on the Hat to be sorted. After the Hat declares your House, you go to your table, and sit down there."

The Professor's words seemed to have succeeded to calm down the whispers, and she cleared her throat.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

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 and then…

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the Hat.

The Slytherins cheered for their new Housemate, as Hannah made her way over to the green table. Harry noted that she looked a bit confused, which he couldn't quite explain. Maybe she didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin… well, I wouldn't want either so it's understandable, he thought, suddenly feeling empathetic for Hannah.

Bones, Susan went to Slytherin too, and didn't look very happy about it either. Then Boot, Terry went to Gryffindor; Brocklehurst, Mandy to Hufflepuff, and then Ravenclaw got its first students too, literally three in a row with Brown, Lavender, Bulstrode, Millicent, and Crabbe, Vincent. Harry noted that while the Ravenclaws politely clapped for all of them, they didn't really feel enthusiastic about their new first years. Especially Crabbe, who was about as stupid as large, seemed like a weird fit for the smartest House. Harry failed to stifle a small grin when he caught the deathly stare Malfoy sent to the big boy.

The next two students, Davis, Tracey and Finch-Fletchley, Justin went to Gryffindor; Finnigan, Seamus went to Ravenclaw, and Goldstein, Anthony joined Hufflepuff, the latter looking not too puzzled about the Hat's decision. Malfoy's other henchman turned out to be a Ravenclaw, which made the blonde curse, but it wasn't loud enough for McGonagall to hear, much to Harry's chagrin.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The girl ran to the stool so eager that she almost fell over it.

It seemed like the Hat had a very hard time for her, as it didn't say anything for minutes. It seemed as if Granger was arguing with the cloth, as she shook her head a few times, which almost made it fall down.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat finally cried out which made Hermione slowly walk over to the green table, looking extremely dejected. The Slytherins didn't even bother to clap for her as she sat down at the far end of the table.

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

A tall, blonde girl reluctantly made her way to the red table. Apparently, she wasn't planning to end up in the House of the Braves, Harry thought.

Harry noticed that as the sorting was going on and, as new students were getting sorted, they were receiving less and less applause. Similarly to Hermione, the Slytherins didn't clap at all when Longbottom, Neville made his way to their table, after McGonagall had picked the Hat from his head, as he had forgotten to take it off. One could be forgiven for thinking that the upper year students just got bored of the sorting, but Harry had a distant feeling that something was off with the system.

He felt that way even stronger when the Hat sent Malfoy to Gryffindor of all places, which ended in a shouting match between the boy and McGonagall. At the end, the Professor came out on top and forced Malfoy to take his seat at the Gryffindor table, but not before the blonde told her that "his father will hear about it". Again, normally that would have made Harry happy, but a horrendous thought made him feel sick in his stomach.

It seems like the Hat is evaluating us in a different way than we do. What if it thinks that even bringing me here was a mistake, and I'm not magical at all? What if they will send me back to live with the Dursleys again?

These thoughts were occupying his mind for the next few minutes. The only thing he remembered from that timeframe was Parkinson, Pansy slamming the Hat angrily onto the ground after it declared her a Hufflepuff, but he was so afraid of his own sorting, that he barely thought about how un-Hufflepuff that behaviour was. At that moment, if someone would have offered Harry that he would have to fight five dragons a year later in exchange for delaying his sorting by five minutes, he would have gladly accepted it. Harry was just very terrified to be declared non-magical… to be declared a failure. In his head, he was already hearing Uncle Vernon saying, "You little freak were too freaky even to become a normal freak, so you came back to leech on us again, just like you always did, you good-for-nothing…"

"Potter, Harry!"

What? Is it time already? he thought, feeling worried. He was not ready. Not ready at all… He looked up at McGonagall, but he knew that he had no choice here. He stepped out of the line, and made his way to the stool with trembling legs. He barely heard that people were whispering about him, as he felt the Hat dropping on his head.

"Hmm," he heard a small voice in his ear. It felt very different from the one he had heard singing before, but somehow he knew that it was the same voice. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see in there. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… In fact, I can see almost everything here, except confidence which you seem to sorely lack. So, hmm… What do you think? Where shouldn't I put you?"

"Shouldn't you think about where you should put me, instead?" Harry asked back. Despite the fact that the Hat might have liked what he saw in his head, and after all he may be able to get sorted into a House instead of being sent back to the Dursleys, Harry wasn't calm just yet. The Dursleys did teach him that everything could go awry in an instant, (even if they didn't really teach him anything else), and he was determined not to let his guard down. Maybe the Hat was preparing some kind of quiz for him about Hogwarts, or just the Wizarding World in general. He felt close to panicking as he grabbed the edges of the stool so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"No, not this time. It's been so boring, you know? Asking students about where they think they belong… Now, I'm asking them where they don't belong!" The Hat laughed maniacally.

"Oh, that one is easy, it's Slytherin. I don't belong there… I don't belong there at all," Harry replied, suddenly feeling relieved. Things were looking up after all. He was fearing two things: getting sent home and getting sorted into Slytherin, and it seemed like both of those options were getting further and further away from him by every passing second.

"Not so quick, young Harry. Don't judge so quickly. That's a Gryffindor trait if ever I've seen one. I also know that you are very hot-headed, so I feel like we can be sure that Gryffindor isn't the least fitting house for you. Then what else do we have? Ravenclaw? I don't think so. You don't strike me as a stereotypical member of Rowena's house, but you do possess a general liking for books, something which could make you fit in there. So… that only leaves Hufflepuff and Slytherin for us, wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose it does… I could still see myself in Hufflepuff a lot easier than in Slytherin."

"Because you are biassed. Ronald Weasley and Rubeus Hagrid might be good friends, but you shouldn't listen to everything they say. They only showed you the dark side of Salazar's House. On the other hand, many of the finest wizards and witches were from that House. Even Merlin himself was a Slytherin, did you know that Harry?"

"No, I didn't… but I still don't want to go there." Harry didn't even want to think how Hagrid, Ron and the whole school would react if he would end up in Slytherin. Moreover, he was getting a bit impatient by now. He was already sitting on the stool for five minutes waiting to get sorted, but the Hat was just droning on and on about how he could fit in Slytherin, and how it wouldn't be as much of a crazy idea as he might think.

"Okay, why are you telling me all of this?!" Harry asked the Hat angrily after one more minute passed in which it told him a tale about an apparently brilliant former Slytherin brewer, who had the very creative name 'Mixing Max'. "I'm not getting sorted into Slytherin. I don't belong there, and I know it. Please put me into Gryffindor, and be over with this. The others might be impatient because of me," he added when he remembered how long he could have possibly been sitting on the stool by then.

"Impatient, eh? The others don't matter right now. Only you do, Harry Potter. The story of Mixing Max might be something you want to look up when you have the time. There are lots of similarities between the two of you, and you could possibly learn from his mistakes, if you… but you might be very hungry based on the growlings of your stomach, so I'll finish now. Whether you do or do not belong in Slytherin is debatable. On the other hand, one thing is sure."

"What is that?" Harry asked impatiently. The Hat wasn't wrong about his stomach. Although he did eat a bunch of sweets on the train ride, it couldn't be compared to a real dinner.

"You, my dear Harry Potter, certainly don't belong to HUFFLEPUFF!"

This time, nothing ordinary happened; the Hufflepuffs gave him a very loud applause, louder than any he had heard since the beginning of the sorting. He spotted the Fat Friar waving at him with a huge grin on his ghost face, and a handsome, athletic boy cheering, "We got Potter!" loudly at the yellow and black table.

He did his best to smile back at the ghost, but he feared that the most he could do was attempting and then instantly failing to do a forced grin. As he sat down at the end of the row with his fellow first years, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by the Hat. He felt confused… as knowledgeable as he was, he thought that the Hat's task was to sort everyone into the House which was the most fitting for them, not the least fitting.

So, it seems like the Hat pranked me by putting me into Hufflepuff. While this might be a little joke for it, he ruined my next seven years, he thought as he stared down at his shoes, not wanting to interact with an annoyingly nice bunch at the table, who surely wanted to talk to "the famous Harry Potter." Harry surprised himself by how offended he felt by getting sorted into Hufflepuff. I mean, I might have thought about getting sorted into Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw and I might have only wanted to avoid Slytherin, but I always thought that I would be in Gryffindor like my parents … like Ron … like everyone expected me to.

Harry couldn't help but feel like a failure, which made him both want to cry out and yell angrily. He finally decided to look up, and he regretted it instantly.

"Hey Harry, welcome to Hufflepuff, we are all…"

"Nice to see you here Harry, what do you think about…"

"Harry, Harry, so nice to meet you, my name is…"

For the next few minutes, Harry forced a smile on his face, shook hands, and answered a few simple questions, while checking the ongoing sorting from the corner of his eye, hoping that it would be over soon, and that someone would make a speech to divert his Housemates' attention away from him. Unluckily for him, a tall, dark-skinned boy was due, and he spent minutes under the Hat, until it finally declared him a Ravenclaw.

"Hey Harry, it's so lovely to meet you here in Hufflepuff! I'm Emily Smith, a second-year Hufflepuff, and I'm sure we would both like to learn about each other. Mind if I sit here?" a tall, blonde-haired girl standing behind him gestured at the place on the bench on Harry's right.

"As a matter of fact, I think he would mind it, at least I would, given how annoying and stupid you are, so I'd advise you not to sit here," Harry heard someone snap at Emily from his other side.

Harry turned to his left and saw the girl who had slammed the Hat onto the ground before him smirking at Smith, who looked at her horrified and mumbled something which wasn't audible. In a few seconds, as if by magic, everyone who was bothering Harry with their introductions got back to their place, leaving him alone.

"I… erm… thanks for making her go away." He turned to the girl on his left. He felt like he was supposed to thank her, even if she was very rude, as he felt like his head could have exploded at any moment if the way too friendly Hufflepuffs would have continued talking to him.

"No need to thank me. I was doing it for my own sake."

"Oh."

"What, you really thought I was doing it for you, someone I don't even know in person? Just because that dirty old thing spouted some nonsense about me belonging here, I'm not an idiot to pick fights for strangers. Besides, it's you."

"Err… what do you mean it's me?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"It's you, Harry Potter, the Golden Boy, everyone is fawning over you, you have a huge fan club here, you know that? I'm a Parkinson though, so don't expect me to join your little puppies and worship your scar," she sneered.

"You are very rude, you know that?" Harry asked back.

"And you are stupid, Potter. Or you wouldn't be a Hufflepuff… how?" she suddenly started yelling, which made a few people from years above stare at her. "What kind of sorting is this? Why are you even here, Potter? And why am I here? It doesn't make sense at all!" She sounded like someone on the verge of hysteria.

Harry felt the need to say something. To tell the girl he felt sorry for her, to tell her that he was also surprised to be in Hufflepuff. On the other hand, she was very rude, and he felt like she might just insult him if he would try to comfort her, and she wasn't making it any easier by hiding her face in her palms.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Harry spun on his seat with excitement. Parkinson had made him forget that the sorting was still going, but he didn't want to miss this one. Would the Hat sort Ron into Hufflepuff too, or send him to Gryffindor? Maybe Ravenclaw? I doubt the Hat would send him to Slytherin, that would be too cruel even for it to do, he pondered.

"SLYTHERIN!"

He gasped. The Hat had sent Ron to Slytherin! Something is off with the Hat! Something is awfully wrong here! How could Ron become a Slytherin? There's no way the Hat pranked him by sending him to the least fitting house too, he thought, as he watched Ron making his way to the Slytherin table with a green face. No one at the table clapped, and Harry saw upper years whispering among each other.

He glanced at the Gryffindor table, searching for Ron's older brothers, which wasn't hard with all of them having identical ginger hair. Percy's mouth was hanging open as he stared at Ron at the Table of Snakes, while Fred and George had something on their faces what looked like a mixture of laughter and guilt. Maybe they think they should have influenced Ron better so he wouldn't have ended up there. I should talk to them, and tell them what happened to the Hat, and mention that it might have been Ron's case too, and they shouldn't give him a hard time for the sorting.

He also spotted Malfoy at the Gryffindor table, who was sitting there like a statue on the verge of crying. A sight which made Harry grin, as Zabini sat down on his right, while McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realised how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties he ate on the train felt like ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet, just as the whispers grew strong again as the sorting had been concluded. 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, as almost all of the upper years clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he… err… a bit mad?" he asked out loud, uncertainly.

"No, I wouldn't say so. He's obviously very knowledgeable, and those words might have a meaning we aren't familiar with," a brunette, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table, replied. Harry believed her name was Lisa Turpin, but he instantly forgot about both her and Dumbledore, as the dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. While the Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he wanted to, unlike Dudley, who had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all very delicious, and made him forget about everyone around him, as he enjoyed his food.

He only stopped for a minute when the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice-cream in every possible flavour he could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding...

Parkinson was quietly conversing with another girl who sat on her opposite side. Turpin and Zabini didn't seem like super talkative people, as they both ate without talking, so Harry helped himself to a treacle tart and focused on the food again.

When he felt like he might have eaten so much that he would faint, and also started to feel a bit sleepy, the desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore stood up again, as the Great Hall fell silent.

"Ahem… just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should all note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who tried to smile innocently.

"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. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone can apply who's at least in their second year and anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch as soon as possible. Last, but not least, 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."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He can not be serious?" he quietly asked Lisa.

"He might be,"she replied, frowning at Dumbledore. "I doubt that he would joke with people's lives and it's also logical, because the forest is full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that who has read Hogwarts: A History, like I did."

"Don't tell me you fell for that trick, Turpin," Parkinson interjected. Apparently she had been eavesdropping. "The old fool is a master at deception. He just wants to seem mysterious and powerful, that's why he came up with some nonsense like this."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cried, before Lisa could reply. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed, it seemed like only Dumbledore and Hagrid seemed excited at the idea of singing.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick as if 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 snake-like into words.

"All of you, pick your favourite 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 loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. Harry heard something like "actor" muttered from his left. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Two older prefects led the first-years away. They seem to wander forever, up and down staircases, through echoing corridors, accompanied by the Fat Friar. The prefects encouraged them to look for signs to remember their way back to the Great Hall, but Harry gave it up after a few minutes. Finally they reached a statue of what seemed like an old monk. The prefect tapped the monk on his shoulder and he opened his eyes.

"Good evening, your Holiness," the prefect greeted him respectfully.

"Good evening, Felix, good evening children. They are the new ones, I suppose? Welcome everyone, spend your time well in Hogwarts," he added as Felix nodded. Harry noticed that the Fat Friar bowed deeply in front of the statue, and he wondered if they had known each other in their own lifetime. As far as he knew, "your Holiness" was a way of greeting reserved only for the Pope.

"The password is Loyalty, your Holiness."

The statue nodded and walked to the wall behind him. As he put his hand on it, slowly a door emerged. The statue opened the door, and stepped aside, as he smiled at them, and gestured to step inside.

Harry found himself in a room at once commodious and cosy. Wall hangings of Hufflepuff yellow and black softened the high stone walls, and comfortable seating was grouped together - some around the huge stone hearth, where a noble fire blazed warmingly near a bank of tall, brilliantly-coloured windows. Harry suspected the windows would be magnificent in daylight with the sun shining. There were study tables and black and yellow sofas which looked really comfortable. He longed to look and touch, but the prefects were hurrying them on, urging them to come by the great fireplace.

The older students were crowding behind them. Some of the girls took seats on the squashy sofas and chairs and ottomans. The tallest boys stood behind, lounging casually. The crowd parted, as the dumpy witch Harry had noticed at the Head Table came bustling in.

"Gather around! Gather around, everyone!" she called, waving at them as if she wanted to hug them all. She came to a halt on the big flagged hearthstones and stood surveying the newest students of Hufflepuff House, beaming with affection.

"Well!" she exclaimed. "Here we are, primed for another splendid year! A new lot of badger cubs, and a likely lot they are!" she added with a huge grin.

Harry felt himself flushing under her proud gaze, and glancing about, saw that he was not the only one. Even Parkinson looked respectful for the first time of the evening. It was very nice to feel so welcomed. Even though Harry still wasn't happy about his sorting, the warm welcome made it more acceptable for him to be a member of Hufflepuff.

"I'm your Head of House, Professor Sprout. I teach Herbology at this fine old place, and I hope every single one of you will give their best this year. Each of you is special and gifted in different ways. I don't expect all of you to be brilliant at everything, but I do believe that all of you can work hard, and that's going to be enough. No doubt Professor McGonagall's given you a bit of a talk about House points and House Cups and all that. Cups are all very well, but they're not the most important part of your years at Hogwarts, far from it. You're here to become the finest witches and wizards you can be, each of you in your own way. You're here to become part of the community of witches and wizards, and to learn to live and work with all sorts of people. You're here to make friendships that will last your whole lives, and possibly even to meet the witch or wizard of your dreams!"

Laughter, and some preening and jostling ensued among the older students, but Harry didn't like the lack of ambition in this statement. He wanted to prove something in Hogwarts, not just sit around and "make friends", even if he wouldn't mind having friends for the first time in his life. Much to his surprise, he spotted an angry scowl on Zabini's face after the professor's words. The scowl went unnoticed by professor Sprout, who was gesturing to Parkinson and Turpin at that time.

Professor Sprout waved her hands for silence, and went on. "So while I wouldn't complain if a cup or two came our way, I won't be put out with you if they don't… well, only as long as you have all given your best. If any of you ever feels the need to talk to me, you can come into my office and have a sit down with me. We have got some fine prefects in this House, but I'm not one to pile it all on them and sit about taking tea and eating bonbons alone, so you can come and see me anytime you want to. You have a lot to take in, so I won't heap more on. The prefects will soon tell you about our study groups and our talent nights. We badgers always take care of our own. Now then, head on down to your rooms and sleep yourselves out! You'll find your luggage waiting. You'll get your class schedules at breakfast tomorrow. Boys left, girls right. Good night everyone!"

Felix stepped forward.

"One more thing, Professor. The entrance to the common room."

"Oh yes, I forgot. The statue you have seen outside is the statue of Pope Leo the First, one of the most divine muggles having ever lived. At that time, muggles knew that the Wizarding World existed, but only a very select few could enter. Pope Leo was one of them. His story is very long, I'm sure you could find it in one of the Muggle History books in the library, but I wouldn't talk about it now, seeing how tired you all are! Anyway, the Pope changes the password at lunchtime on every Sunday, and tells it to Leo who writes it on a piece of paper and pins it onto the wall, like it's there now." she waved to a pinned piece of paper on the wall, which had "Loyalty" scribbled on it in huge letters. "You mustn't tell anyone about the password, and you mustn't let people from other houses inside the common room. The Pope is the only one who can open the door, there's no use of trying it yourselves. Now for real though, you all look like you are going to fall asleep on the floor… do believe me it's better in bed! Quick now, see you tomorrow!"

The boys followed the prefect down a long hall until they came to a series of round yellow doors. The Prefect opened one, and motioned the boys in.

"This is for you, first years." He smiled slightly, and wished them goodnight.

Harry peered in, looking at the cosy room. Their trunks and other gear were piled by the door. Three single tester beds, all draped about with dark yellow bed curtains, filled half of the room. There was a wide window seat, and a reading table with sturdy chairs. By the window was a perch where Hedwig came fluttering, just as the boys took possession of the room.

"Hedwig!"

Harry rushed to greet her, hands running lovingly over the sleek white and Zabini were examining the owl curiously. Harry took his chances at quickly occupying the bed at the window. He tumbled gratefully into the comfortable bed, wriggling down under the covers, and closing his eyes. He released a content sigh, falling asleep a moment later.

A/N Thanks for reading the second chapter of this fic! As always, we would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. The next chapter will be uploaded somewhere around December 17.