Harry stared at the black inside of the Hat, waiting. then a small voice said in his ear, "Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?"
"Er, yes," Harry muttered. (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone)
"A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Momentarily, the train lurched to a stop. Everyone pushed their way out the narrow doors of the train, and onto a small platform.
Hermione and Anne soon followed the three boys out of the train. As they stepped onto the platform, Hermione looked disapprovingly at the boys and sniffed loudly.
"Honestly, what's her problem?" said Ron, clearly annoyed.
"She's probably bothered about what Scabbers did. Her friend didn't seem to like him much either," commented Harry.
"How was I supposed to know she didn't like rats?" Ron said, highly affronted. "What was her name again? Annie?"
"Anne," muttered Gilbert.
"Girls," Ron sighed. "They're all the same. Can't blame you for calling her carrots, though. Her hair's even redder than mine, and that's saying something."
"Aren't carrots orange?" murmured Harry to himself.
Ron looked at him strangely. Gilbert was immensely confused, but remained silent.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" called a voice. Ron could see a lantern bobbing over the sea of students.
As they got closer, Ron could see the bearer of the lantern. He was huge! His hands were the size of trashcan lids.
"Blimey," he said in awe.
"All right there, Harry?" the giant boomed. He towered over the rest of the first years.
Harry nodded with a smile."This is Hagrid," he whispered to Ron and Gilbert, "The person I was talking to you about on the train. He's the keeper of the keys at Hogwarts."
"Oh," Ron said in a small voice. He wasn't quite sure how such a big man could keep track of all the keys to Hogwarts.
"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path.
Hermione smiled softly as she listening to her Canadian friend chatter on.
In primary school, she hadn't had any friends. Her aspiration for learning and knowledge had scared the other girls off. A teacher's pet, they called her. But weren't they curious in the least? About how things worked; why? About how everything fit together?
That was when she learned that girls were capable of being so much crueler than boys. Boys would fight and kick, but girls could throw cutting words that hurt more than any punch. So, she was isolated in her own world of books and imagination.
Receiving her Hogwarts letter had been a new burst of hope for Hermione, learning magic would be a whole new kind of knowledge, and she would be able to meet people more like herself. Maybe magical children would be different from Muggle children, maybe they would value learning more since it would be such a vital part of their lives. After devouring her textbooks and other books about Hogwarts, she decided that if she couldn't find a friend anywhere else, she would at least be able to find a study partner in Ravenclaw house.
After meeting Anne in Diagon Alley, a weight she hadn't known was there was lifted off Hermione's shoulders. She would have someone to help her familiarize with magic, who wouldn't laugh if she got things horribly muddled. She had a friend! They were "kindred spirits", as Anne would call it. The moment they both reached for the same book, Hermione knew that they would be instant friends.
"Oh!" gasped Anne, breaking off from the long- winded story she was telling, and Hermione looked up in surprise.
"The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. On top of a high mountain on the other side, stood a grand castle. Its many windows glittered in the darkness of the night. A misty fog rolled over the lake, giving the castle a mysterious air.
"No more'n four to a boat!" called Hagrid, pointing toward a small group of boats resting on the shore.
Hermione stated for the boats before realizing that Anne wasn't following her. She looked back. Anne was still entranced, staring dreamily at the castle.
Hermione backtracked to where Anne was standing.
"Anne?" Hermione said hesitantly. "Anne, we've got to get on a boat or we'll be the last ones left."
"Oh, Hermione, I think I could just stand here all night," said Anne with a faraway look, "Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe it –"
Hermione interrupted her, grabbing her arm. "You can come out here any other night you'd like," She said, pulling her towards the boats, "But you've got to get sorted first."
She steered clear of the boat Harry, Ron, and Gilbert were occupying, and lead Anne into a boat where two Asian girls were chattering excitedly.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "You there, still gor yer toad? Right then – FORWARD!"
The door swung open at once.
They were lead into a large hallway, where a stern faced witch was waiting for them.
"Thank you, Hagrid," she said, "I can take them from here."
They walked down the length of a hall. Goyle's mouth hung open unintelligible, no doubt thinking of the feast waiting on the other side of the hallway. Draco rolled his eyes. This was the company he would be keeping all year? But he supposed having two bodyguards of sorts would be helpful.
Stopping at an empty chamber, the dark haired witch addressed them.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, "My name is Professor McGonagall, and I will be teaching your Transfiguration classes. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before that, you will be sorted into your Houses. Your House will be something like your family in Hogwarts. You will attend classes with House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room."
Draco zoned out, observing his classmates instead. He'd already learned everything he needed to know about the sorting from his parents. Unlike the parents of many of the other worried-looking children, they believed it was best for him to be prepared. They were working up their nerves for nothing.
He smirked. The Weasley boy was looking particularly green, and Potter wasn't much better off.
Potter.
Potter had humiliated him. Who did Potter think he was, to stand him up like that? He would soon see that insulting the Malfoy family was a bad move indeed.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." McGonagall's eyes lingered on a few individuals.
Draco scoffed. It was clear that the mudbloods learned nothing of the importance presentation and appearances in public. But then again, none of them had to worry about the responsibility of holding a pureblood status.
Suddenly, several people screamed. About a dozen pearly-white ghosts streamed through a wall. They seemed to be arguing amongst each other before noticing the first years.
"Oh!" a round monk exclaimed in delight, "New students, I see. Hope to see you all in Hufflepuff. My old house you know-"
Draco snorted. As if. He'd probably be pulled out of Hogwarts if that happened. Getting sorted into Hufflepuff would almost be worse than joining the Gryffindor blood-traitors.
A shimmer caught Draco's eye. Lurking in the shadow was a refined-looking ghost. His face was thin and hollow, his emotionless eyes staring. His heart was pierced through, silver blood still staining his robes. The Bloody Baron. Despite the gaping hole in his chest, he still managed to look condescendingly at the other first years. He looked meaningfully at the young Malfoy heir.
Draco inclined his head slightly, trying not to grimace. Where he belonged was Slytherin, where the sly and cunning were. Like the rest of his family. He would make his family proud.
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." Professor McGonagall had returned.
The old Sorting Hat waited patiently on the three-legged stool. It was as patient as it always had been, throughout these long years.
The had had grown patched and frayed over the years, and none of the splendor from the time when it had sat on Godric Gryffindors' head remained. But its mind had remained as sharp as it had in its younger days, and from the pulse of thoughts and emotion coming from the young first years, it could tell it would definitely be an interesting year.
The hat chucked to itself. The awe-struck expressions on the first years' faces were always something worthwhile to see. Their first real taste of magic – how innocent and carefree they were now.
As the hall grew quiet, the hat twitched once, before opening the rip near its brim wide, like a mouth. This was the moment it had been waiting for, how it had been passing the tedious minutes in Dumbledore's office. – its distraction from collecting dust and reflecting on its hazy memories.
It sang,
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. And now – it was time for the sorting to begin.
The first up, a blonde pig-tailed girl stumbled onto the stool, before the hat was lowered onto her head. A pause –
"HUFFLEPUFF!" It shouted.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff side.
"Blythe, Gilbert!" called Professor McGonagall
Gilbert nervously stepped up to the stool.
"Good luck, mate," whispered Ron.
The hat dropped over his head, and all he could see was the dark insides of the hat.
"Ah.." said a small voice near his ear, "A time traveler, I see. A bit far from home, aren't you? Let's see…I can see loyalty, and lots of courage. Very intelligent, too – but I can't see you looking for knowledge just for cleverness. Better be - GRYFFINDOR!"
The table farthest to the left exploded in cheers, as Gilbert quickly stood up.
Just as the hat was lifted to sort the next first year, Gilbert heard it say: "And try not to aggravate that redhead anymore, will you? We have enough drama from the Seventh years as it is…"
Gilbert shook hands with the rather pompous prefect, before sitting near the end of the table.
He waited in anticipation for 'Shirley, Anne" as the hat Sorted the remaining students.
The Indian girl Anne had been sitting next to on the boats had been sorted into Ravenclaw.
Finch-Fletchley…Granger – in Gryffindor, much to Ron's dismay …Longbottom… MacDougal…Malfoy…
After a couple more students, Harry was called up to the stool. After what looked like a short debate with the sorting hat, he was finally sorted into Gryffindor. The loudest cheers of all followed.
Harry stepped down, and after many congratulatory handshakes, he took a seat next to Gilbert. He looked a bit ill. Gilbert smiled encouragingly to him before turning his attention back to the Sorting Hat.
"Shirley, Anne!"
Finally! His eyes glued to the scene, he watched anxiously as a pale-faced Anne put the ancient hat over her flaming hair.
A few moments later, the hat screamed – GRYFFINDOR!
Gilbert groaned. He should have been expecting it. Anne swept past him, still managing to glare at him despite her nerves.
There went his hope to stay at relative peace with Anne this year.
Hmm... this is interesting, thought the Hat. So this was the redhead that had occupied so many of the Blythe boy's thoughts. Her mind was very active; she had her own way of thinking. The Hat could tell she was vibrant and full of life. She had plenty of courage, too, but a strong tendency to act a bit rashly. However, her heart was in the right place, and she would grow into a fine woman.
But at the moment, from the thoughts that were dominating her mind, Hat could also very clearly tell that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Blythe.
The Sorting Hat prided himself on his matchmaking skills; he knew a good pair when he saw one. And he saw that if this girl overcame her stubbornness, she and Mr. Blythe could build a strong and long lasting friendship.
The two reminded him of another pair from a few decades ago – Lily Evans and James Potter. Bright, feisty Lily, and a noble, but rather big headed James. Their love had lasted until the very end.
Yes, Ms. Shirley definitely belonged in – GRYFFINDOR!
The Hat chucked as he watched Mr. Blythe banging his head on the table.
After all, what was Hogwarts without a bit of chaos?
This year at Hogwarts would most definitely be a very interesting year indeed.
A/N: Gilbert and Anne are the same age in this series, just to make things easier. Also, we took some dialogue directly from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - we couldn't quite figure out how to cite the bits and pieces without making a mess of italics.
Reviews? Please? We'd really like to know how we're doing so far.
~l00ny and junie