Chapter 2

Chilli heard her name being called and made her way up to the stool where Professor McGonagall was holding the Sorting Hat out to her. She wasn't nervous; she knew the drill. Her mother had told her, bright-eyed and excited, about the day she had been Sorted into Gryffindor.

So, Chilli thought firmly, I definitely won't be going into that House.

Chilli reached the stool and sat down, turning as she did so, so that she was looking round at all the expectant faces. Her eyes momentarily met with Seamus's, then she quickly looked away as her chest flooded with emotion, probably embarrassment. She also noticed a boy with hair as red as her own, though he had a lot more freckles. Next to him, she realized with a shock, was a boy she recognized.

Harry Potter.

The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead immediately gave away his identity. Chilli couldn't help goggling at him, despite the fact that he had most likely noticed her looking by now. Her thoughts were distracted, however, when Professor McGonagall put the Hat on her head. It sunk to below her eyes, so she couldn't have continued staring even if she had wanted to.

To her surprise, Chilli heard a whispering in her ear; this was something that her mother had not told her. The Hat could talk?

"So what House shall I put you in, hmm?" it said in an old, amused voice. I guess it's no surprise that it's happy, Chilli thought vaguely, after getting over the shock that the thing could talk! This is probably all it gets to do all year.

"No suggestions?" the Hat continued, still with that same, almost mocking, I-know-more-than-you tone. "You're a pureblood, so you would fit in well in Slytherin . . ."

I do like snakes Chilli agreed languidly, looking up at the picture of the school crest dangling down from the night sky/ceiling above her, and getting the sudden urge to laugh at how stupid that sounded, even to her.

"But besides being a pureblood, you don't have many Slytherin qualities."

Well make up your bloody mind, then! Chilli snapped, getting impatient, as well as self-conscious at the fact that she was sitting in front of hundreds of students and that she had been there for longer any of the other few that had been before her.

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat shouted, without warning, and for the whole Hall to hear. With a smile of relief and a small pang of disappointment, Chilli realised that she had been nervous after all.

Chilli gave the Hat back to Professor McGonagall and went to what was evidently the Gryffindor table, judging by the cheers. For some reason, she was immediately hailed by two identical boys with flaming red hair, making her wonder just how many red-heads there were in this school.

"You look like Ginny," said the closest, as soon as Chilli sat down. "You could be twins."

"Uh, huh?" Chilli wondered, having no idea who Ginny was.

"But you don't have enough freckles," said the other twin. "I'm Fred, and this is George."

"That's not right," interrupted a black boy with dreadlocks, leaning over from the other side of the table. "That's Fred and that's George. And I'm Lee."

"No, you're not. You're Fred. I'm Lee, and he's George."

"Uhh . . ." Chilli groaned. She was completely lost.

She turned her attention back to the Sorting, where Seamus was just sitting down on that three-legged stool, and McGonagall putting the Sorting Hat on his head. Chilli found herself hoping that he would be sorted into Gryffindor.

She watched him as the Hat sank below his eyes, and took in his features with an odd interest that had brewed itself inside her, without her bidding.

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat announced, bellowing it so that all in the Great Hall could hear. Chilli wondered if the Sorting Hat had whispered in Seamus's ear as well, and if so, what had it said?

She shuffled along the bench, hoping that Seamus would recognise her from the train, notice the empty space next to her, and sit down there. He didn't, and instead sat at the very end of the table, almost as far away from Chilli as it was possible to be.

Fine! she thought angrily. It's not as though I wanted you to sit here or anything. It's not as though I went through the effort of talking to you at the beginning of the train ride, even though I'm used to just ignoring people and reading. She continued watching the Sorting, though she didn't actually take in anything she saw.

A good twenty minutes later, Chilli's stomach rumbling with hunger, the Sorting finally finished, with nothing particularly exciting happening except Harry Potter being Sorted into Gryffindor, though only after a wait that easily outstretched even hers as the Sorting Hat made its decision. Chilli had shuffled along even further as Harry made his way to the table, and this time had succeeded, though Harry had left a noticeable amount of bench between them. He seemed to know Fred or George or Lee or whatever the twins' names were, at least a little, and the twins in turn had seemed delighted at being the subject of the great Harry Potter's attention. Chilli had tried to build up her courage to talk to him in the several minutes that followed, but just as she had opened her mouth to speak, another red-haired boy had sat down between her and Harry and Chilli promptly gave up.

Professor Dumbledore was speaking now, but Chilli wasn't paying attention. She was very hungry, and was starting to regret not getting anything from the trolley of food that had gone round the train around midafternoon, despite the seemingly obvious hygiene issues. Also, being surrounded by so many people made her nervous. At home it was just her mother, herself and the house-elf in their large house. Sometimes the gardener came, but he didn't live there like the house-elf did. There was the tutor too, but he came only once a week and hadn't come at all since her Hogwarts letter had come.

Professor Dumbledore finished talking, and all of a sudden food appeared on the previously-empty plates that had lined all the tables. Chilli, ravenous, didn't hesitate to tuck into the great variety of delicious food. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea. It was a great spread, and from what her mother had told her about Hogwarts, Chilli had no doubt that only the best trained house-elves would have prepared it. She helped herself to chicken legs, pies, corn-on-the-cob, roast vegetables, anything that tickled her fancy, and was in her reach, because she didn't want to disturb anyone to ask them to pass her a certain kind of food. The only disappointment was that the only beverage was water, which Chilli found rather poor, because at her home flavours were mixed into the water because she found ordinary water to bland for her to stomach.

After a while of eating the delicious food, which seemed endless, despite the large number of students, the wonderful savoury food turned to wonderful sweet food, as dinner was replaced with dessert. The Hogwarts first-years gave a gasp of delight, because the dessert well satisfied the eyes as well as the stomach and tongue.

Finally, when the whole Hall was full to bursting and not a single student or teacher could eat a bite more, Professor Dumbledore got up to speak once again. But once again, Chilli did not listen, though this time she was too busy concentrating on the pain in her belly, caused by her eating far too much, and the sleepiness that came with it.

The next thing she knew she was being shepherded with the rest of the first-years and being led from the Hall by a tall, skinny red-head (how many of them were there?) with horn-rimmed glasses, up several flights of stairs until reaching a tight spiral staircase, up the top of which was nothing more than a small landing, with a large portrait taking up most of the opposite wall. Chilli was really too tired to take anything. At home she usually went to bed early, as she enjoyed waking up before dawn to look out the window as the world outside slowly woke up as well, with the sun rising and the birds singing and several of the more exotic plants of the greenhouse stretched their boughs to the west to receive the first sunlight of the day. The only thing she really took in before reaching the common room was the obscene amount of stairs that had to be climbed merely to reach the Gryffindor common room, and an even more obscene poltergeist that had swooped by, shouting bad words and throwing pieces of chalk at them like a cruel teenager throwing rocks at a stray dog ("Peeves," the red-head with glasses had explained. "You'll want to stay away from him.").

The dormitory was wide yet cosy, with a bright fireplace with comfy-looking armchairs surrounding it, a red carpet covering the floor, and a red and gold rug covering the carpet. Indeed, red and gold seemed to be the main theme around the room, and so Chilli deduced that these were the house colours. She didn't mind; red and gold were quite a nice colour scheme, although it may clash with her hair if she actually had to wear it, and nothing could beat a colour scheme that included purple – maybe purple and gold. If I ever become the Head of Gryffindor some day, Chilli thought, I might change it. Her tiredness was muddling her thoughts, so that she seemed to be unable to think straight, which would explain her current train of thought. Chilli was in fact so tired, so eager for bed, that she would have run up the staircase leading to the girl dormitories once the red-head had pointed them out, if the food she had eaten had not made her so sluggish. As it was, she still made her way rather quickly up the staircase and into the first-year dormitory, noting that her belongings had been moved up here, next to one of the beds, before collapsing on said bed, and falling asleep without even bothering to change into her pyjamas.