hey guys. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Wright now we're at the sorting and it looks like someone's a little nervous.
RATE: T
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER JKR DOES. I OWN MY OC CASSIE!
WARNING: THIS IS THE SORTING! ANYONE WHO IS NOT PLEASED ABOUT ANYONE'S SORTING PLEASE TELL ME!
Chapter 3
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "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 moments pause —
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor.
"A bit plump isn't she?" Cassie asked. Harry nodded absently. He didn't know how Cassie did it. She could just talk while her destiny was being decided.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.
"Connelly, Cassandra!" McGonagall called.
"Wish me luck!" she whispered. Harry gave her a half smile. "Don't worry." She skipped to the Sorting Hat.
She gently put the hat on and smiled on the stool. She was confident and looked around the hall giving everyone a beautiful smile. They must have sensed something was different about this girl and quieted down. Harry crossed his fingers and hoped she would be in Gryffindor, like he hoped to be in. After what it seemed like hours the Sorting hat said "No House. This girl will have no House!"
"What?" McGongall asked confused.
"This student does not fit in any of the four houses," the Sorting hat cried. "She will not be sorted." The Great Hall was silent. Never had the Sorting Hat ever refuse to sort a student Harry guessed. Cassie was the last person he expected it to happen. He felt that he was the most likely candidate for that.
"Well, I see that we have a predicament," The Headmaster said. His eyes had a twinkle. "The best solution is to let her stay at any house she wishes for today and deal with it later."
"But Headmaster! The students must be sorted immediately from there arrival from home!" a little man with a squeaky voice said. he was wearing a purple robe and looked worried.
"Well, then Sorting Hat, please sort this student."
"If I refuse to sort, then the student will not be sorted!" the Sorting Hat exclaimed. "Unless you make a new House, i shall not sort this student!"
"Well, Professor, is that your answer. So Miss Connelly please sit wherever you choose," Dumbledore said. "I'll see you in the morning to discuss possible arrangements. She nodded and looked worried for a second. then she seemed to shake it off and went to Gryffindor table. "On with the sorting."
He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!"
"No, not her!" Ron groaned. After a few more sortings, he found that it was Malfoys turn.
"Slytherin!" the sorting hat said with only a touch from his head. He smirked and made his way over to the table.
After a few more names, his name was called. "Potter, Harry." it caused whispers to spread through the Great Hall.
"The Harry Potter!"
"No way!"
"I thought he was living with Muggles!"
Harry walked up to the hat and put it on.
"Difficult, Difficult," it whispered in his ear. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Then it better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Gryffindor table cheered. "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!" the twins chanted on the top of their lungs. He was relieved. Wait why did Cassie not get sorted, he thought.
"She was to special to be sorted," the hat whispered. "You have yourself a a unique person. Don't be unwise with your time with her Potter."
Harry took off the hat. What made her so different? He saw Cassie waving at him and he walked over and sat next to her.
"Wasn't that easy?" she asked. He snorted.
"Says the person who didn't get sorted at all."
"Hey, I'm one in a million," she replied. Harry smiled. "Better get back to the sorting."
And now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.
"Way to go," Sirius cheered.
"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Ron gave a visable sigh and walked to the table. He sat right next to Harry.
After a student named Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin, McGonagall took the sorting hat away and left the Platform for the headmaster.
"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!
The Great Hall cheered.
"Thank you!"
Dumbledore sat back down and Harry felt as if this man was either mad or a genius.
"Is he a bit mad?" he asked Percy.
"Mad? No he's a genius!" Percy said. "Greatest wizard in the world. But I suppose he is a bit mad. Potatoes?"
Harry looked at the place in front og him. The empty plates were now filled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
He piled everything except the peppermint onto his plate. As he was reaching for the Yorkshire pudding a hand slapped his away. "What was that for?"
"It'll give you a stomach ache! You ate a pile of candies on the train. Merlin knows how many calories you've had today. Not that you don't need them," Cassie scolded.
"But I want some Yorkshire pudding!" he exclaimed.
"Harry James Potter, reach for that pudding and that's not the only thing that will look like mush," she threatened.
"Cassie, you should not be threatening students," Percy said.
"Would you like to escort Harry to the loo when he has to throw up?" she asked. Percy shook his head with a disgusted look on his face. "I thought not."
Harry blocked out the rest of the conversation. He began eating the food on his plate. It was all delicious.
"Wish I could have some," a ghost sighed sadly.
"Can't you - "
"No. I haven't eaten in five hundred years," the ghost replied. "I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked miffed. He put his head on his head and pulled his head came off, but was hanging by a thread. Some had not cut off his head properly. Hermione gasped. The horrified faces of the first years seemed to satisfy his irritation. "Darn the French Revolution."
"You were a knight in the French Revolution?" Hermione asked.
"Why yes. Beheaded because I supported Marie Antoinette and King Louis."
"Forget that! Why is he covered in blood?" Dean asked.
"I never asked," Nearly Headless Nick replied. "I suggest you don't ask him though. He's in a bad mood today."
Harry finished all the food on his plate. Then the feast vanished and dessert appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…
harry helped himself to some treacle tart and listened to conversation around him. Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult —"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — ").
Cassie and Ron were arguing again. "Ron don't eat that much ice cream It'll give you a brain freeze." Ron kept shoveling ice cream in his mouth. He swallowed.
"What in Merlin's name is a – OW!" Ron cried out. He held his head in his hands. "Ow, ow."
"Put your thumb under the roof of your mouth,' Cassie instructed.
"And what do you think that will do?"
"Just do it.' Ron stuck his thumb under the roof of his mouth. After ten seconds he looked up.
"It's gone."
"Good, never do it again," Cassie said.
Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"What is it?" asked Cassie asked. She took an ice pack out of her bag.
"N-nothing."
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
Cassie pressed it to his forehead. "Alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," He said taking the ice pack off.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on 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. They falshed him a thumbs up and he smiled.
"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 the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, 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."
"Your not going anywhere near that, got it Fred and George?" Cassie asked. It wasn't a wuestion, it was a demand. "And if you don't, guess who's getting a nice long letter."
"George you guess,' Fred said.
"Fred, I think you should," George replied.
"Is it Mum?" Ron asked.
"No it's the Queen of England," Fred said. Ron looked at him confused. "Of course it's Mum!"
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was 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, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "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."
Everyone finished at different times. The last two people were Fred and George who were singing at a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines and cut them off.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
everyone followed the prefects to a portrait of a fat lady. "Password?"
"Caput Draconis," said Percy. The portrait swung open and revealed a common room with comfy couches and chairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another.
Before they went up though, Cassie gave him a pill. "It's for stomach aches in case you or Ron get one. Merlin knows what the amount of food is going to do."
"I'll keep that in mind." he slipped the pill into his pocket and went up the the top of a spiral staircase they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."
Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he fell asleep almost at once.
Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
He had a stomach ache. Great, the last thing he needed was Cassie getting a big head about how she was right. He took the pill and waited until he felt better. He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.
Alright! Short chapter but now you know where he'll be. I left him in Gryffindor because, that's what he is at heart. I did tell you that i would be following closely to the book, and JKR would not be pleased to see a Slytherin Harry Potter.