A.N. (I'm sorry guys for the long wait, but I was really busy! Well, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…obviously

Chapter Seven: Helga's Humble Abode

Harry could not believe his eyes (and ears). Draco Scorpius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, was in Gryffindor! His mouth was still wide open five minutes later when Ron poked him in the ribs.

"Mate," he whispered, "You were called up a few seconds ago." Indeed, Professor McGonagall's sharp voice, now slightly irritated, was calling out, "Potter, Harry!"

"Did she say Harry Potter?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"Move over! I can't see!" whispers broke out in a rush as soon as Professor McGonagall had called out Harry's name. People craned their necks to look at him, and the shorter ones stood up on their seats to get a better look.

"Oh," said Harry startled, as he shakily walked up to the sorting hat. Was Draco Malfoy being in Gryffindor some kind of omen that he would be in Slytherin? Hopefully not…

"Well, Mr. Potter," the sorting hat whispered in a silky voice. "I've been waiting to sort you."

"You were?" asked Harry with surprise, "Why?"

"Well, it might have been because you vanquished the Dark Lord, but let me recheck my memory," said the hat sarcastically. Then, without waiting for a response, it started muttering to itself. "Where to place you…"

"Not Slytherin," said Harry immediately.

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness!"

"No!" Harry muttered furiously. "I don't belong in Slytherin! I belong in Gryffindor, like my mum and dad!"

"Don't belong? Are you sure about that? Yes, yes, I see it all in here, and you have immense ambition, and a thirst to prove yourself. Hmm…no?"

"Put me in Slytherin, and I'll make sure you'll never be able to sort again!" threatened Harry, desperate.

"Threats do no frighten me," sniffed the offended hat, as if he got them frequently. "I shall place you in a house which I deem fits your personality best, and it shall be…GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted out to the hall, and Harry hardly had time to sigh in relief before he took off the hat and walked as calmly as he could to the Gryffindor table. He hardly knew that he was receiving the loudest applause, because he had just realized that the only available space was either next to Draco Malfoy or a boy who was picking his nose.

"Harry!" Fred and George Weasley, Ron's twin brothers, shouted in glee as each took an arm of Harry's and dragged him towards Malfoy. "Congrats on making Gryffindor, mate! We knew you were alright though you associated with Ron!" They snickered at their own joke.

"Let me go!" Harry complained, as the Weasley twins forced him to sit next to Malfoy, who was looking very sour.

"Nope, a certain person here looks like he's in need of a buddy, and we thought you were just the person," said Fred in a sing song primary school teacher's voice. George smirked at Malfoy's expression.

"I don't associate with the likes of half-bloods and blood-traitors!" Malfoy exclaimed, looking extremely indignant, "Just you watch, when my father shows the headmaster just what he thinks of that sorting hat, I will be in Slytherin before no time!"

"Sure, sure," said George, waving away Malfoy's remark with a wave of his hand and walking down the table to sit with the third years. He and Fred were still snickering over the fact the Malfoy was sorted in Gryffindor.

Harry didn't look at Malfoy, instead preferring to gaze at the rest of the sorting with more interest than necessary. After a few minutes, a boy named Dean Thomas joined the Gryffindor Table and sat across from Harry.

"Hello!" Dean greeted cheerfully, "Brilliant place this is, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Harry, "I'm Harry Potter by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Dean Thomas, and I hail from a small village in Wales. It was ever such a surprise when I received my letter!" Dean said, shaking Harry's hand.

"A muggle-born," thought Harry amiably while at the same time, Malfoy thought, "A Mud-blood; Gryffindor Tower must be infested with them, and I must spend the night there!" He shuddered at the very thought, but as no one was paying the least bit of attention to him, he did not receive much stares except from a just sorted first year Ravenclaw girl who looked dreamily at him and batted her eyes. Draco knew from the sorting that her name was Lisa Turpin, and that she was a half-blood. He recoiled and looked away. What in the world… Instead, Draco looked longingly towards the Slytherin Table, particularly at Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking sympathetically and with confusion towards him. How did those thick-headed idiots go to Slytherin and not me? Draco thought with an angry frown. He tried to drone out Potter and that mud-blood boy's speech, and stared angrily instead at the small number of students still waiting to be sorted.

"Weasley, Ronald!" came Professor McGonagall's loud voice, not tainted even a bit with fatigue. Ron, his legs quivering, walked up to the Sorting Hat and jammed it on with eagerness and nervousness. The Hat barely waited a minute before calling out in loud bold tones, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry's cheers were the loudest of all as he clapped hard and congratulated Ron, who sat next to him. "Well, now that that's over, I wish the food can come fast," Ron complained, rubbing his hungry stomach.

In another ten minutes, the sorting was over and Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll, taking the sorting hat and the stool away. Then Albus Dumbledore stood up, his vibrant crystal blue eyes behind his half moon spectacles sparkling brightly, as if nothing pleased him more than to see them all there, ruffled in spirits but in one shape no less.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Then he sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered and Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he - a bit mad?" Dean Thomas asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, anyone?"

Harry, Ron, and Dean's mouths fell open. Malfoy feigned non-interest, but he did perk up a little, very little.

The dishes in front of them were now piled with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, chips, Yorkshire Puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was delicious. He had previously thought that no one could rival his mother's cooking, and he was still with the same belief, but the Hogwarts cooking came very close.

Ron, abandoning any notion of etiquette, piled his plate with food higher than Uncle Padfoot did, and Harry had never thought that possible, but clearly he had been proven wrong. He and Dean Thomas laughed. Six seats down, Harry saw Neville Longbottom quietly eating a potato, looking lonely and friendless. Harry immediately felt sympathy to him and said, "Neville, why don't you sit with us? We could use some company!"

Neville looked up and perked a little, but when he saw that the only available seat closest to Harry, Ron, and Dean was next to Malfoy, he said, "That's alright."

"Oh come on, no one's going to bite you," Harry said, looking pointedly at Malfoy as he said this. Malfoy gave him a glare, and looked at Neville as if to say, "Don't you dare…"

But Neville had got up quite happily and sat across from Harry and Ron, and as far away from Malfoy as possible.

"Thanks," he said, before delving into his food with more enthusiasm.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Neville cut up his steak.

"Can't you -?"

"I haven't eaten in nearly four hundred years,' said the ghost, "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said 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 another first year boy named Seamus Finnigan interrupted. "Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted it to.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled.His whole head swung off his neck and fell on his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back on to his neck, coughed and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

They looked over at the Slytherin table, which was all the way at the end of the hall, and glimpsed a horrible looking ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting right next to a girl they remembered from the sorting as Pansy Parkinson, whose sour looking face looked even sourer with the sitting arrangements. She suddenly caught their gaze and they quickly looked down, but not before seeing her glare. Pansy Parkinson looked over at Draco, who looked guiltily at her, as if saying, "I don't want to be here!"

Draco felt the misfortune of his being in Gryffindor greater than ever now. The Parkinsons, pureblood to the core as much as the Malfoy family, were their closest friends. Surely they would cut off all family ties now, due to the disgrace Draco brought to the family? Also, Pansy had always had a crush on Draco, ever since she was eight years old, and had professed him her future husband. Draco himself preferred her pretty cousin, 10 year old brown haired brown eyed Astoria Greengrass, to the pale blonde Pansy, but he never said so. Pansy had been his best and closest friend since four years old, and he never did anything that hurt her feelings. Crabbe and Goyle were only outside friends. They really didn't care about him at all, as long as he still had the power over the rest of the kids, but Pansy was his inside friend, and Draco felt pretty bad about abandoning her, him being in Gryffindor and all. Sighing, he continued eating. At least food didn't belong to particular houses…

"How did he get covered in blood?" Neville Longbottom was asking Nearly Headless Nick.

"Never asked," the Gryffindor ghost replied, "He'd kill me if I ever mentioned such a thing!"

"But you're already dead!" said Ron, before Harry could step on his foot and stop him. Nearly Headless Nick looked offended and left his place to sit next to the first year girls, hoping for better conversation there.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed, looking at his friend exasperatedly. Ron shrugged.

"But it's true!" Ron defended himself. Harry, Dean, and Neville shook their heads.

"You suppose we should include that Malfoy kid in our conversation?" whispered Dean, his eyes darting to the proud, but lonely looking Malfoy.

"Are you kidding?" asked Ron, staring incredulously at Dean. "He's a Malfoy!"

"But what does that mean?" asked Dean with confusion, "Why should that matter?"

"Because…he's a Malfoy," repeated Harry lamely, "Fine, that sounded stupid, but this Malfoy family is bad business Dean; better not to associate with him."

"If you say so…" said Dean uncertainly, feeling a prick of sympathy for the pale faced boy.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later, the puddings appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding ...

As Dudley helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to studies.

"I've asked around, and Potions sounds by far the most interesting," declared Justin.

"Oh, it's interesting enough," snorted Jane Phillips, who had become their fast friend although she was a fifth year, "if it's taught by a nice teacher!"

"Who's the teacher, and what's wrong with him/her?" asked Ernie curiously.

"Professor Severus Snape," replied Jane promptly, "and you can tell that he knows his subject well, but he's nasty to everyone except Slytherins, and the more points he can take off from other houses, the happier he is."

"But why?" asked Dudley, looking up at the staff table.

"Who knows?" Jane shrugged, "People say though that he's been after the DADA job for ages, but Dumbledore never gives him the position. You know, rumor has it that Professor Snape used to be a Death Eater, but I don't reckon it's true, or else Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him. He's the guy with the sallow eyes, pointed nose, and greasy hair by the way."

Dudley quickly spotted Professor Snape, as he was the only one who didn't seem to enjoy the feast, and looked around him with glaring eyes. Currently, he was staring at someone with intense dislike on his face, and Dudley quickly found out that it was at Harry. Surprised, he then saw Harry quickly clap a hand on his forehead, wincing in pain. Worried, Dudley said, "Are we allowed to go to other tables to talk to people?"

"Yes, of course, as long as it's not to make arguments," replied Jane, "Hogwarts encourages inter-house friendship."

Dudley quickly got up from his seat and walked over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring some of the stares he was getting.

"Hey Duds, congrats on making Hufflepuff! Mum and Dad will be proud!" Harry greeted as Dudley neared the table. "This is my cousin Dudley," Harry told Dean, who hadn't met Dudley on the train.

"Nice to meet you," Dudley said, shaking Dean's hand amiably, then turning to Harry, he said, "and thanks! Congratulations on making Gryffindor!"

"Thanks; what brings you here by the way? Missed me that much?" Harry joked.

"Not a chance," Dudley said grinning, but then sobering up, he said, "I just noticed you clutching your forehead. Anything wrong?"

Harry colored slightly. Had he really made it that obvious? "Nothing," he replied, "My scar just twinged, that's all. It's probably nothing."

"Your scar hurt? How?" asked Dudley, worried.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, "One minute, I was staring at Snape, and the next, my scar hurt; probably a coincidence."

"You noticed Professor Snape? What do you think of him?" asked Dudley with a grin, dismissing his worry. If Harry hadn't thought much about his scar hurting, what need was there to worry?

"Professor Snivellus?" asked Harry, grinning mischievously, "Oh, I think he is a right dear fellow indeed!"

Dudley shook his head with a smile. "Don't tell me you're going to cause trouble in his class."

"Why Dudley, whatever gave you that idea?" asked Harry, looking at Dudley with an angelic smile. Sighing but grinning, Dudley returned to the Hufflepuff table.

A.N. (I feel this chapter, and story is moving way too slow, so I'm going to speed up the rest of the feast part if you don't mind.)

At last, puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent. "Ahem - just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you.First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students ought to remember that too."Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"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 term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch.And finally, I must tell you that this year, the 3rd floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did."He's not serious is he?" he muttered to Percy Weasley, the fifth year Gryffindor prefect.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd because he usually gives a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us Prefects, at least."

" 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 were 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 snake-like into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune and off we go!" said Dumbledore.And so 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 the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes, "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you go."The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase.

A.N. (Since we all know how Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors go to Gryffindor Tower, and since we know how the Gryffindor Common Room looks, I won't write about that part, but instead about Dudley and his "journey" to the Hufflepuff Common Room; Hope you don't mind!)

Dudley, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie MacMillan, and two other first year boys named Malcolm Preece and Zacharias Smith followed Stephan Gardner, the other fifth year prefect, to the Hufflepuff Common Room while Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Madeline Summers, Sitara Ramnad, and Kalicia Stebbins followed Jane Phillips.

The Hufflepuff Common Room wasn't far. One just had to turn left of the wide sweeping staircase after exiting the doors of the Great Hall. To the left of the staircase, there was a door partially hidden by a suit of armor. After opening the door, they saw a long hallway, very bright and cheerful looking with tons of paintings of food on the walls…and the largest painting all the way at the end of the hallway. Jane and Stephen led the first years to that painting, which was the only one not of food, but of a beautiful fairy tale forest, with all kinds of sweet little animals, flowers, and foliage.

A.N. (I don't know how the Hufflepuff painting is supposed to look, so sorry if I made it stupid or something!)

"Helga's humble abode," said Jane, and the painting immediately turned into a door. "That's the password. Make sure you don't forget it. Passwords change every two weeks, so make sure you remember to ask one of us every two weeks for the password." She turned the handle and walked in, with the admiring first years trailing behind.

The Hufflepuff Common Room was very cozy, with long yellow hangings and fat black armchairs scattered around. There were four long tables on each side of the rectangular room, with ten yellow and black cushioned seats next to each of them. Paintings of forests, jungles, fruits, and vegetables were placed everywhere, giving the room a very earthy comfy feeling

"Welcome to the Hufflepuff Cellar," said Steve (short for Stephen which he hated to be called), staring fondly around at the room, "That's the name we call this place. Our House corresponds to the element of Earth, so that's why the dormitories are underground. We hope you settle in and adjust to your new surroundings soon."

"As Steve said, the dormitories are underground," said Jane, pointing at a round trapdoor on the floor at the far end of the common room. "First, we must all go through that trapdoor. A few steps lead us to the underground, with two pathways. The right pathway takes you to the girls' dormitories, and the left pathway leads you to the boys' dormitories. And there are spells and enchantments which keep the other gender from going to the opposite gender's dormitories. Goodnight."

The first years followed Jane and Steve down the round trapdoor to the underground. The girls went right and the boys went left, until they reached the first round door, which was labeled First Years. Eagerly, the boys opened their door and went inside their cozy dormitory, which was just the right size to be both snug and airy. Their belongings were already there, at the foot of their beds. Too tired to say anything more than a goodnight, they changed into their pajamas and fell into a deep sleep, anticipating the start of their lessons the next day.

lllllllllllllll

Draco Malfoy was awake long after the other boys (Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus) fell asleep, staring up at the red and gold hangings with misery. Yes, the Gryffindor Common Room and Dormitories were luxurious to be sure, but Draco had much rather be in the Slytherin Common Room instead. He had heard so much about it from his father, who had been without doubt that Draco would be in Slytherin.

As soon as the other boys had fallen asleep, Draco had written his father a letter with dread, telling him of his sorting. Surely his father would make Dumbledore switch him to Slytherin? He just had to! He didn't belong in Gryffindor. Heck, even the Gryffindors knew that! Sighing, Draco turned over. Even with six boys in it, the First Year Dormitory was very spacious, luxurious, and warm, but Draco didn't want any of it. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he felt very lonely. He had no friends here, and no one in which to confide his feelings. If he had been in Slytherin, he would have had not only Crabbe and Goyle, but also Pansy….Oh, how Pansy must be feelings right now! Did she hate Draco for being in Gryffindor? Draco had written her a letter as well, hoping against hope that she would respond.

Draco's last thought before falling asleep was just how he would survive seven years at Hogwarts if, just if, his father didn't succeed in convincing Dumbledore.

A.N. (I'm really really really sorry for inflicting such a long boring chapter on you, but I promise that from the next chapter on, it's going to be interesting, because I got all the boring details out of the way. Please Review…at your comfort. And thanks for the kind reviews for the previous chapter! Each and every one made my day! And I'll change the poll for next chapter. If anyone has not voted already, please do take the chance to do so now. Thanks!)