A/N: Hogwarts here we come!
The huge braced door opened with a yawning creak. Hagrid allowed the 1st years to pass, growing dreamy-eyed once they entered the castle. Harry and Ron felt as though they were in an alien world, torches and sconces lined the crusty brick corridors, giving them a rich yellow-brown tint. Suits of shining armor flanked the halls as well; Ron swore to have seen one waving at him as they walked on. A stairwell approached, with Draco and his two grubby pals, Crabbe and Goyle, shoving through the weakling midgets to get up front.
Waiting at the end of the stairs was an old witch, wearing a dark green robe and pointed hat, her attention spent messing with an orb crowning the end of the railings of the stairs. She realized that a hundred first years were directing their gaze toward her, making her drop the orb with a thud.
It rolled toward the students spinning like a tornado. With a bong, Draco was sent flying from a direct hit in the chest. Soon others fell and entangled themselves in the ruined mess, screaming. The chaos was soon over, Harry lying on top of Ron with his foot smashing his freckled nose. "Ge… auf…mae…'arrry!" muffled Ron. The witch paid no attention to the disaster of bewildered students brushing dust off each other's robes.
"Ahem… Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "I am Professor McGonagall. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but first, you will be sorted into your houses." A murmur of excitement ensued.
"Here, your house will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in the house common room, hence the name house." She glanced at the empty position where the orb used to be. "There are four houses called Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and… uh…""
"Here it comes," nudged Ron.
"…and Slytherin…" said McGonagall in a disgusted voice. Draco and his crew smiled deviously, giving each other bro-fives.
"While you are at Hogwarts, good deeds will earn house points, while any rule breaking will make you lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the House Cup, a noble honor indeed. And yes, if you lay a dung bomb that's worth 100 points, lay another and it's worth 200. Lay a third and you'll be expelled." Ron whispered to Harry "My brothers Fred and George did that."
"Did they win the House Cup?"
"No. Filch, the caretaker knocked points off them."
McGonagall then glanced behind her to the massive double-doors leading to the Great Hall. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin, please wait until I return." She disappeared over the steps, resulting in nervous chatter.
"How do they sort us into houses?" asked Harry.
"Sort of a test, Fred and George said that you had an I.Q. test, and if you fail you get put in Hufflepuff."
"If you'd come with me," motioned McGonagall. The wave of students flooded the stairs in reply.
The doors opened automatically, revealing a large chamber with stain-glass windows flanking each side. Four great tables were parallel to the walls. Each house had its own table with older students sitting on the benches. A great, resounding boo filled the great hall, along with shouts of "First years suck!'
Harry then could see a bearded old man at the very end of the hall, sitting in the middle of a large table for the faculty to be seated. He seemed to be tying his beard into a bow as they made their way in. Harry recognized Hagrid and the eccentric Professor Quirrel, while a gothic freak with greasy long hair sat next to him.
The ceiling was astounding for it was as if it was gone and the night sky actually existed in the hall, topped with bewitched floating candles ta boot!
"It's not real" confidently said Hermione. "It's just enchanted to look that way; I read so in Holographic Ceilings Weekly."As they shuffled through, Ron was muttering a hundred ways to zip Hermione's mouth shut.
When all finished filing through, Harry saw pearly white figures phase through walls as if they were just air. "Ghosts!" shouted a nervous first year. They quickly assembled by a peculiar pointy old hat sitting on a small stool that McGonagall stood by. All became quiet, as the hat began to move. A crease in its pointy cap functioned as a mouth as it chanted:
Welcome first years to your school
I think it's rather awesomely cool!
I'm an idiot compared to you
But to another hat, I think I'll do
Just come up here and try me on
After I sing this dreadful song
A magical bass line appeared at of nowhere and the Sorting Hat began to sing, to the astonishment of the first years.
When I was very young
This old school had just begun
And the founders made all of their groups
Then for breakfast had fruity loops
So you see this school is made,
And on this stool I have been laid
The hat then broke into yells for each specific house.
Gryffindor is for those courageous
They make Snape shout, "OUTRAGEOUS!"
The whole Gryffindor table burst with laughter, Harry noticed the air of attention being directed toward the greasy-haired, goth, his expression stone-faced. Harry noticed that even Hagrid was laughing.
Ravenclaw for those of mind and skill
Just be sure to bring a spare quill
Well, theirs sucked, thought Harry.
And Slytherin I've yet to mention
You'll surely wind up in detention
Again Malfoy and high-fived his bros.
And for the rest
Hufflepuff is best.
A loud booo issued from the Hufflepuff table, the Fat Friar Ghost shaking his balding tonsure. A short, plump, woman stood up angrily, as Hagrid continued to chuckle. The Sorting Hat took a gracious bow.
Now that me song is sung
Let's come up here and have some fun
For tonight we dine so well
But tomorrow we study like-
"Abbott, Hannah!" shouted McGonagall over the Sorting Hat, it grimacing at her interruption of its grand punch line.
A few more people got sorted into their houses, as Harry fell asleep, while standing up. "Granger, Hermione!"
Harry awoke, "Hermione's going up there."
Ron went back to sleep saying, "Who cares?"
"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat shouted, as Hermione ran off to meet her table.
Harry stayed up to see Neville get sorted into Gryffindor, and slip on the back of his robes, sliding down the floor into one of the Great Hall's tables.
"Malfoy, Dr-"
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat yelled before Draco's name was finished. He ran to the Slytherin table where he was punched out by an older kid with disfigured teeth.
Harry went back to sleep, and suddenly McGonagall shouted, "Potter, Harry!" Ron pushed him forward and he sleepwalked up to the Sorting Hat. He sat down and the Sorting Hat began to talk to himself.
"Plenty of Courage for Gryffindor, dumb enough for Hufflepuff and enough cunning for Slytherin. This is hard. Where do you think you should be boy?"
"I 'on't care," said Harry, still asleep.
"Okaaaay. GRYFFINDOR!" Harry didn't get up and rush to his table; he simply sat on the stool and fell over backwards. After McGonagall woke him up and directed Harry to his table, the ceremony proceeded. Harry fell asleep at his table, as all the Gryffindors were trying to shake his hand and yelling "We got freaking Harry Potter!"
A few more people were sorted when McGonagall yelled, "Weasley, Ronald!" Ron looked scared as he walked to the hat and took his seat. But it didn't take the Sorting Hat that long at all to shout out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Ron ran to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to the sleeping Harry.
Then the last people were sorted, including a Slytherin with the name Zabini. While Ron was wondering how anyone could get the last name Zabini, Harry woke up, to see that his glasses had been crushed, and hastily asked Hermione to repair them.
With a ting of a fork hitting glass, the hall fell silent. The Headmaster that Harry had seen stood up. "Welcome children! My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts…"
Harry and Ron started to doze off as the speech went on, something about an exciting new year and the 3rd floor and a most painful death. Otherwise it was just blah blah blah.
Both their expressions lit up at the mention of 'feast' and as if on command, food appeared on all the tables. Harry couldn't believe his eyes; never had he dined on such succulent delicacies of divine deliciousness. Ron took a whole bowl of chicken legs for himself; Hermione helped herself to the 'pate de foie gras' ladened crackers.
Harry was quite interested in the goth freak sitting next to Quirrell, who was using his turban as a bib. His scar gave a jolt when the black greasy-haired man stared at him with his cold black eyes. Harry immediately turned around and said to Percy, "Percy, who is that over there?"
"Him? That's Professor Snape, he teaches Potions, but has fought for Quirrell's job for years. Really nasty man; you wouldn't like him."
Harry replied with the confident voice of a tele-evangelist, sparkling with optimism.
"Oh Percy my boy, you think wrong." Percy nearly choked on a rack.
"What?"
"You see Percy, he and I are gonna be best of buds, we'll brew potions together, swap gossip in the halls, perhaps even have a tea party. For seven wonderful years, we shall form the most prosperous student-teacher partnership in the world!"
Percy almost threw up.
At the teacher's table, many professors gorged themselves, Hagrid particularly vacuuming The Giant's Veggie Dish.
"Hagrid, could you pass the corn to Severus, he's flagging quite madly." asked McGonagall, enjoying her Cat's Tuna Deep Dish Pie.
"Oh, a'c'urse." replied Hagrid, trying to reach for the bowl of corn on the cobs. His arm brushed into Dumbledore, sending his hot soup into his white beard.
"Ah! My eyes!"
"S'rry Profess'r 'Umbledore!" Snape grew tired of Hagrid's clumsiness. He flicked his wand.
"Accio Corn!" Quirrel bent his head in front of Snape.
"Professor Sprout, I must say-"
"Quirrel! Look out!"
"Huh? AHHH!" BOOM!
The shear force of the corn sent Quirrel flying into Snape, both toppling behind the table. CRASSSHHH! Everybody winced. There was no movement. Suddenly Snape then Quirrel popped up from behind the table, smoothing their wrinkled robes as they smiled at everyone. Everybody blinked, the dinner resumed.
Harry met some other Gryffindors, one named Seamus who complained of his mom being a witch and his dad a muggle. Another complained why the good had to die young. Another complained why complaining had no relevance in life.
At the end of dinner, Dumbledore clapped his hands, and poof! Ron's gulosh had disappeared. He frowned and laid his head on the decadent plate. Dumbledore clapped again. When Ron awoke, his head was inside a large jello pudding; he screamed and ran around the table. Harry and others picked off generous morsels from his head, till all of it was gone.
Hermione was enjoying a carrot cake, as she regaled other students with her brilliance and good leadership.
"I'll be at top, Hermione, Head Girl of Hogwarts! Just think of it. With my brains, Gryffindor will win!"
"I heard that Quidditch games are going to be a blast!" Ron bellowed, trying to ignore Hermione.
"Oh, that barbaric sport. You can't seriously enjoy such rubbish. I heard the life expectancy of a chaser is 8 seconds, 3 and half with Slytherin playing."
Students started to scoot away from Hermione.
"I mean, Wizard Sports Today ranks Quidditch as the third reason for gangs and bankruptcy for those who place bets." Nobody was around Hermione, yet she kept on blabbering.
Tired and taut, the students went out to their dormitories, Harry, Ron, and Hermione following the Gryffindors. Percy led them to the main staircase. "Now be careful first years of the stairs, they like to change." Just as he said that, a man fell from above.
"AHHHHH!-oofph!" The students leaned over. "I'm okay!" he shouted. No one seemed to even listen.
"Follow me." beckoned Percy. A painting with a guy wearing a curly wig leaped like a frog from tapestry to tapestry. He motioned to a first year at his sleeve. "Rembrandt, ha! Whaddya think?" The kid had no idea what he was talking about and walked on. "Ignorant knave! Don't know your seventeenth-century artists!"
They climbed up the stairs; one painting showed a renaissance alchemist with apparatus messing with a bubbling concoction. He started to scream in delight "It's working! IT'S WORKING! IT'S-"BOOOOOM! The stairway roared as a huge explosion erupted from the painting, spewing gas and alchemical equipment into a lagging group of first years. "Sorry!" wheezed the barbecued alchemist.
They eventually made it to a portrait of a fat old hag wearing a large girdle, apparently to make her look constipated when she tried to smile rather than look skinny. "Password?" she grinned, a bit uneasy.
"Ex-Lax." confidently replied Percy.
"How rude! You may enter." The painting swung from the wall as the children crawled in.
The common room was a comfy lounge, with a roaring fire, and the house coat of arms, lying above the mantle. Somewhere on the bottom right of it was etched rather graffiti-like:
Take that McGonagall!
S.S.
Harry and Ron retired to the boy's dormitory with Dean and Seamus, as Hermione went to the Girl's to rest. Harry found all his school stuff and Hedwig nicely placed by his bed. They quickly snuggled in, dreaming what their first day of classes would be like. Harry could still hear Hermione blabber on well past midnight. A final "HERMIONE, SHUT UP!" silenced it.