Salutations, people of the binary code. Let the babble begin! I want to thank you all for reading. I just had a big influx of new readers. To you new peeps out there, I hope your internet speed is fast. So, new chapter. *END BABBLE*
Enjoy!
-Psionic Arsonist
Chapter 5:
The Sorting
"Alright mate," Lestrade patted his hand on John's shoulder. "This is where we split. Since you're a first year, you're going to go on the boats. Just go where to where that tall woman is standing. She'll tell you what to do. Bye, John. Hope you get into Gryffindor!" Sally and Anderson waved bye to John, and the three of them walked to horseless carriages on the road.
John fidgeted with his robe, and walked over to the lady Lestrade had told him about. As he got closer, he could hear the woman talking. "First years over here! First years over here!" John joined the other first years that had gathered around her.
"Hello, children. I am the groundskeeper, Hatha. Now, each of you, get into the boats behind me. Three to each, please!" John craned his neck to see behind Hatha. There was immense, black lake with hundreds of small boats floating on it. Each boat had a lantern, making it seem as if an army of fairies were laying siege to Hogwarts.
John got into one of the boats. There was already two people in it. One was a girl, with wavy red-brown hair. The other was a boy. He had a pinched look on his face, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. "Hi, I'm Mary. Who are you?" The girl asked.
"J-John," John stuttered. He was still nervous about Hogwarts. Mary smiled. The other boy just glared at his feet. John could see a nametag on his robes. It read: Sebastian.
With a jolt, the armada of boats began their smooth journey across the lake. John could have sworn he'd saw a black tentacle rise out of the water. Hogwarts drew nearer.
The boats game to a gentle stop at the edge of port. Hatha made sure there were no stragglers, and began the ascent to the school.
"Ickle firsties! What fun!" A voice came from above them. John looked up to see a ghost hovering over his head. "PEEVES!" Hatha roared. She pointed what looked like a walking stick at him. A burst of air came out the end and sent the ghost rocketing towards the sky. "Poltergeist," Hatha spat. "We should get rid of them. Never trust Peeves, little ones. He'll try to mess with you." With that, Hatha continued up and pushed open the great mahogany doors. John gasped.
There was a gargantuan hall inside. There were four long tables, with kids already sitting in them. Another table was laid lengthwise at the end of the hall. John saw Professor Spearen sitting at the end, talking to another teacher. John heard Mary gasp. "The ceiling!"
John looked up. Where there should have been a ceiling, there was open sky.
"Honestly. Haven't any of you read Hogwarts, A History? The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside." John whirled around to find Sherlock behind him, his eyes on the ceiling. "Shut up you prick. Not all of us waste our time with our noses in books," he said, indignantly. Sherlock looked at him with cool eyes. "Obviously not. Most of you have the intelligence quotients of a teaspoon." John would have hit Sherlock's smug little face, if he had not seen what just came out of the wall. "John…?" Sherlock saw the look of horror in John's eyes and turned around, to find himself face to face with a ghost covered on bloodstains. It passed straight through him. Sherlock began to violently shake. Another ghost began to speak. "Baron! Don't frighten the first years. They've just gotten here!" The ghost turned to the terrified students. "It's okay. That's just the Bloody Baron. He's Slytherin's house ghost. I'm the Fat Friar. I represent the Hufflepuff House. I hope to see some of your young faces in my common room soon!" The Friar beamed jovially at them.
Hatha cleared her throat. "If you'll allow me to continue?" The Fat Friar nodded at her, took the Baron by his transparent arm, and floated out of the other side of the room. "Now, line up in alphabetical order while the Sorting Hat gets, erm, sorted." There was a mass shuffle as students tries to get into place. John was not at all sorry to leave Sherlock in the front of the line.
A hush swept over the hall. John looked up at the High Table to see a ragged wizard's hat stand on a podium. A queer thought entered his head. Where they going to make him pull a rabbit out of the hat? No sooner had this deranged though left his mind when a rip near the brim of the hat opened. It began to sing.
"Oh you may not think me pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
The hall burst into applause. Professor Spearen stood up from the head table, a large scroll in hand. He began to call out names. "Annis, Harley!" A mousy looking boy walked hesitantly to the Sorting hat. "Go on, put on the hat," the professor encouraged. Harley plopped the hat on his head and sat on the stool. There was a moment of silence. Then: "HUFFLEPUFF!" A table to the far right exploded into cheers. John felt a knot of stress release in his stomach. All he had to do was put on a hat. But then a far worse thought came to him. What if the Sorting hat didn't put him into a house? That there was a mistake, that he shouldn't be there after all?
After a few kids, Sherlock went up to the stool. He placed the hat onto his mop of dark curls. The Hat deliberated for a long while. Finally, it screamed "SLYTHERIN!" The table next to Hufflepuff roared with approval. John thought that the Slytherins looked like a mean bunch.
Profesor Spearen was nearing the end of his scroll. "Watson Hamish, John!" Finally, it was John's turn to be sorted. He gulped. Mary gave him a thumbs up. She had already been sorted into Gryffindor. John began the long trek to the High Table.
John stared apprehensively at the small black hat. He grabbed it by the end and lowered it on his head. The brim of the hat covered his eyes, obscuring his view of the hall. A small voice began to speak in his head.
"Ah, yes, John Watson. You have a good head on your shoulders. Plenty of knowledge. But, oh! What's this? All this courage, astounding. There is only one place for you you. Let it be GRYFFINDOR!" This last part the hat proclaimed to the hall.
John took off the hat, his heart soaring in his chest. He was in Gryffindor! He began to walk to the cheering Gryffindor table. He sat next to Lestrade. Mary was on front of him. Lestrade pounded on his back. "Good job mate! I knew you'd be with us! Thank Merlin that Mycroft's little brother isn't with us." John nodded his agreement. Mary shot him a small smile. "Well, at least I know I have a friend here."
Sally shushed them. "Headmistress Cornell is about to speak." Indeed, the woman on the center of the High Table was standing.
She looked ancient, with long black hair flowing to the middle of her back. Her robes were a deep purple, patterned with moving constellations. She shot gold sparks from the end of her wand, silencing the hall.
"Welcome, students," her voice was soft, like a mother's caress. "Whether you are here for your first introduction, or are enduring your final year, I am glad to see you all here. Now, for the feast! The house elves have not ceased to please. May the school year begin!" She clapped her hands together. John looked down in amazement.
Where before there was only gold plates, there was now steaming piles of food everywhere. Lestrade laughed at the hungry look in John's eyes. "Don't just slobber like a pup! Eat!" That was all that John needed. He began shoveling spoon after spoon, fork after fork, pint after pint into his mouth. Mary looked at him with a gross fascination. "Do you ever stop eating?" John shrugged his shoulders. He was hungry.
Finally, John felt full. The house elves seemed to agree, because the food disappeared, leaving spotless plates behind. The headmistress stood up again. "Our feast has come to an end. Let me announce a few things: Mrs. Norris has asked me to remind you that any and all products from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes are BANNED. Also, to tell our new students - and a few of our older students as well," Did John imagine it, or did she look at Mycroft and Lestrade? "The Forbidden Forest is FORBIDDEN to all students. And finally, the dungeons are off limits except for potion classes. That is all. Now, let's get to bed!"
A loud scraping was heard as all the students got up from their benches. "Huh," Lestrade began "The dungeons have never been off limits before. Something must have happened. I wonder what. Well, never mind that. Let's get to the Gryffindor Tower.
Lestrade and Sally led John and Mary away from the Gryffindor prefects. "We know the best shortcuts," they explained. In what seemed a very long time, they finally arrived to the tower. Sally spoke to a picture frame. "Baker Street." The portrait swung open, revealing a Common Room, ornamented with gold and crimson. "Follow me," Sally said to Mary, leading her to the left set of stairs. "Goodnight, John," Mary said, yawning. "Night."
Lestrade led him up the staircase. "Here's your dormitory. I'm on the floor above if you need anything. Night, John." He turned, and began climbing the stairs again.
John chose the bed closest to the window. His thing were already there. He quickly undressed, and jumped into bed. He closed the curtains around his bed. Tomorrow was his first day training as a wizard! He just had to remember the way back to the Grand Hall. He just had to remember…
Whew! That was a long one. I told you I'd try to write on a regular basis, didn't I? Well, I'm going to follow John's example and go to sleep. May my babbling infiltrate your dreams. Bye!
-Psionic Arsonist