Professor McGonagall's words were followed by cheers and applause from the students seated at the long tables. Albus's breath quickened. Uncle George and Uncle Ron had informed Rose and him that one must fight a fully-grown troll in order to be Sorted—subsequently, Aunt Hermione had glared at the grown men, saying it was nothing joke about.
There was, indeed, no sign of a troll, and Albus began to relax, the tension in his stiff body diffusing. But, if they were not to fight a large, stupid magical creature, what were they to do? He glanced about the Great Hall, looking for a clue. But, unless their test was to swing, Tarzan-like, on the draperies, or race up and down the House tables, there was no indication of their task.
"Bring forth the Sorting Hat!" called Professor McGonagall grandly. A pair of sturdy seventh years, carrying a stool upon which rested a sagging, ripped hat, hurried forwards, tripping over their long robes. Finally, they set it down in front of the Headmistress's podium.
Scorpius nudged Albus nervously. Both boys understood what the other was thinking; in this case, mainly panicked, confused thoughts.
Up on the stool, the Sorting Hat sat motionless—until, with a great drawing-in of breath, a great rip in the hat's folds opened, as if it was a mouth, and launched into song.
Welcome to Hogwarts! Your home for seven years,
Welcome to Hogwarts! You will be Sorted with your peers.
There are four Houses into which you first years will be distributed
Judging on your character, you shall be contributed
To Gryffindor! The group for those brave of heart,
To Hufflepuff! Renowned in the finding art,
To Ravenclaw! Whose minds are sharp and never wrong,
To Slytherin! To which the pure of blood belong
Each of these Houses are equally revered
To be your home for seven years.
And now this Sorting Song
Has grown too long in length.
Welcome to Hogwarts!
Where you will grow in strength.
The school burst into cheerful applause. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus noticed James, whooping and hollering, sitting at the Gryffindor table with Teddy Lupin.
Next to the group of nervous first years stood Professor Slughorn, carrying a long scroll that, when opened to its full length, hovered inches from the floor. Adjusting his spectacles and coughing pompously, he called,
"Anderson, Horatio!" A small, peaky boy, playing anxiously with his hands, moved to the front of the group.
"Up to the Hat!" encouraged Professor Slughorn in a stage whisper. "Then put it on your head."
Anderson, Horatio, moved jerkily towards the front of the Hall. When he sat down nervously on the stool, his feet hung a foot from the floor. Lifting the hat onto his head, the remaining first years could feel his tension and pent up nerves.
After several moments of deliberation, the great tear in the Sorting Hat opened wide. "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Relief written across the boy's face, he stumbled towards a table of clapping students, over which hung drapes colored midnight black and a brilliant canary yellow. Sitting down amongst his new Housemates, the little Anderson boy seemed quite at home.
Bliggsburg, Anna, was Sorted into Ravenclaw, followed soon after by Bzarbo, David. Calvin, Gregory, became the first Slytherin, and Creevey, Samuel, was shepherded towards the table decked out in red and gold—Gryffindor. The Sorting continued, first years joining their new Houses after a minute. Each seemed glad to leave the Hat behind, leading Albus to wonder what it did.
"Malfoy, Scorpius!"
Scorpius exchanged a terrified look with Albus. The pale boy walked slowly, but purposefully, towards the stool. Once he'd stat down, he plopped the hat quickly on his head, and waited.
The entire school watched, with bated breath. Albus watched his new friend carefully. Scorpius's eyes squeezed shut, and his face paled further. All of a sudden, his head began to shake manically, causing the seated group of Hogwarts students to giggle and titter. Finally, after the Sorting Hat had sat on Scorpius's head for coming on five minutes, it spoke.
"GRYFFINDOR!" it yelled.
The new Gryffindor lifted himself from the stool, his face slack and his eyes wide. He staggered towards the long table positioned under red and gold hangings, where Samuel Creevey and a host of other students greeted him, cheering loudly.
Albus was stunned. Scorpius had joined the ranks of the Gryffindors? Quite honestly, he'd expected his new friend to be Sorted into his father's legacy house, Slytherin. He could tell that Scorpius was equally stunned, if not terrified. Although, on the Hogwarts Express, he'd referred to his father as a gentle, funny man, but it seemed that he was afraid, as well—afraid of his father's anger?
The Sorting Hat, Albus realized, was actually quite snarky. After he'd placed it over his head, he waited patiently for a few seconds.
"Oh, we have a Potter, do we?" said the Hat. Albus's eyes flew open. It spoke? Did it speak to the other students? Why hadn't the rest of the students heard it?
"Yes, I do speak," it said. "I speak to the other students too, you're not special or anything, so don't get a big head. And this conversation is going on strictly in your mind, so nobody else can hear it. Although, if some students' brain had a microphone, we'd have a bit of a yearly comedy show."
"Well, get on with it, then," thought Albus impatiently. "Sort me."
"Pushy, eh?" cackled the Hat unpleasantly. "Well, it seems quite obvious where you should go. Slytherin for the young first year…"
"No!" thought Albus. "No, I'm a Gryffindor!"
"A Gryffindor? When did I last hear that argument…oh, that's right. When your father arrived here, coming on…twenty-six years ago. Made the same plea," noted the Hat thoughtfully. "Well, if you say so…better be Gryffindor!"
Albus heard the last word resound in the Great Hall. An explosion of applause erupted from the red-and-gold table. His eyes flew open, searching for Scorpius's face, which had regained some color. He was smiling. Next, Albus's eyes flicked to meet his brother's. James Sirius was clapping, and seemed genuinely pleased. It was a surprisingly good feeling to know that he had his brother's pride and support.
Hopping from the stool, Albus navigated through the tables and benches to take a seat next to Scorpius.
"Bloody surprising," said Scorpius.
"You or me?" laughed Albus.
The Sorting Hat had barely touched Rose's head when it screamed "Gryffindor!"
Sliding in between Albus and Scorpius, her face flushed in excitement, she said, "I was afraid I'd join those Ravenclaws. Don't seem a very happy bunch, do they?"
The three Gryffindors glanced over their shoulders. The Ravenclaw table seemed oddly quiet and solemn. Albus figured it was probably because of whatever important thoughts were on their minds; but he was pleased he hadn't been Sorted into their group. Bloody boring, he thought.
After Zabini, Antioch, was sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall again approached the golden podium.
"Congratulations! You have all been sorted into one of Hogwarts' four worthy Houses—your family at school for the next seven years. Look around! Get to know each other! And let the feast begin!"
The golden plates set before the students gleamed expectantly. Albus's father had told him all about the appearing and disappearing food, but it was still shocking and exciting when a chicken leg rolled suddenly onto his plate.
"Brilliant!" muttered Scorpius absently.
"Quite," said Rose. "Although, did you know, it's made in the kitchens by enslaved house-elves? Mummy told me," she added knowledgeably. "It's disgraceful." Nevertheless, she began to eat.
Albus noticed that Scorpius's cheeks burned bright red when Rose spoke. He grinned.
When Rose got up to speak with Fae Longbottom, who had also been Sorted into Gryffindor, Albus leaned over towards Scorpius.
"Better get used to talking to her, Scorp," he said, laughter written across his face. "She doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut. And it seems she likes our company."
Scorpius blushed again, his pale face flooding with color. "Don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, stuffing a drumstick into his mouth.