The door swings open at once. A tall, lean, black-haired wizard in fern-green robes stands there. He has a very friendly face and Albus's first thought is that he is glad to see Neville, who is like family.
"The firs' years, Professor Longbottom," says Hagrid.
"Thanks, Hagrid. I'll take them from here," says Neville.
He pulls the door wide. The entrance hall is ginormous. The stone walls are lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling is too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them leads to the upper floors.
They follow Professor Longbottom across the flagged stone floor. Albus can hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor Longbottom shows the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowd in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," says Professor Longbottom, with a friendly smile. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you need to be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you're here, your house will be something like your family here at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend your free time in your House common room."
Looking around Emily can see everyone is just as nervous as she is, and she receives a soft smile from Rose. Albums seems to be trying to calm himself.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has shaped outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your accomplishments will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose your House points. At the end of the year, the House that has the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope that all of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours," says Neville.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. And don't worry, it's nothing to worried about," says Neville. "Try and relax."
His eyes linger for a moment, on Albus, who has the sneaking suspicion that the last part was meant for him.
"I'll return when we are ready for you," says Neville, still smiling. "Please wait quietly."
He leaves the chamber. Albus swallows, and looks around anxiously and sees that everyone else looks terrified, too. No one is talking much except, for Rose who is whispering very fast about something that Albus can't quit make out.
He's never been more nervous, never. He keeps his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor Longbottom will come back and lead him to his doom.
Then something happens that makes him Emily jump about a foot in the air - several people towards the back scream.
"What the -?" someone cries.
He gasps. So do the people around him. About twenty ghosts have just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glide across the room talking to one another, before suddenly noticing the first years.
"New students!" says the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nod mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" says the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"It's time," says a friendly voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor Longbottom has returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor Longbottom orders the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling oddly as though his legs have turned to lead, Albus gets into line behind with Rose behind him, and they walk out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
It is lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students are sitting.
These tables are laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall is another long table where the teachers are sitting.
Professor Longbottom leads the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.
Everyone is dancing around Albus now, although he's trying to ignore it.
"A Potter. In our year," some sandy-haired girl said.
"He's got his hair. He's got hair just like him," said a brunet boy.
"And he's my cousin," said Rose. "Rose Granger-Weasley. Nice to meet you."
"Polly, Polly Chapman," grinned the girl.
"Pleasure," said Rose, although a lilt of sarcasm in her voice.
Albus was instantly reminded of what Rose had said on the train about them having the pick of anyone they wanted due to status. The thought made him just as anxious as it had back on the train. He didn't want to have to pick his friends for life today. She thought it was exciting, he didn't.
The hundreds of faces staring at them look like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dots here and there among the students, the ghosts shine misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Albus looks upward and sees a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. This also catches Emily's eyes.
"Wow, it doesn't even look like there's a ceiling," said Emily. "It's so pretty."
She thought it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
"It's apparently bewitched to look like the weather outside," shrugged Rose. "Mum told me."
"Wicked," said Emily.
Albus quickly looks down again as Professor Longbottom silently places a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool he puts a pointed wizard's hat. This hat is patched and frayed and extremely dirty. This was the Sorting Hat his dad talked about.
"Why are they staring at the hat?" whispers Emily to Rose.
"You'll see," replies Rose.
Everyone in the hall is now staring at the hat; he stares at it, too. For a few seconds, there is complete silence. Then the hat twitches. A rip near the brim opens wide like a mouth - and the hat begins to sing:
'I've done this job for centuries
On every student's head I've sat
Of thoughts I take inventories
For I'm the famous Sorting Hat
Now these four founders,
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
So Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house,
For each did value different virtues,
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bold were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the clever
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were,
Most worthy to be admitted,
And power-hungry Slytherin,
Loved those of great ambition,
I've sorted high, I've sorted low,
I've done the job through thick and thin,
I've never yet been wrong,
So put me on and you will know,
Which house you should be in.'
The whole hall bursts into applause as the hat finishes its song. It bows to each of the four tables and then becomes quite still again.
Professor Longbottom now steps 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," says Neville. "Baker, Charlotte."
A pink-faced girl with brown pigtails stumbles out of line, puts on the hat, which falls right down over her eyes, and sits down. A moment's pause -
"RAVENCLAW!" shouts the hat.
The table on the right cheer and clap as Charlotte goes to sit down at the Ravenclaw table.
"Chapman, Polly," than became a Ravenclaw.
Al knows his father wouldn't care, but everyone always says that not a witch or wizard went bad who wasn't in Slytherin, and as loath as he is to admit it, he is scared. What would his uncle Ron say?
Meanwhile, Emily is getting more nervous now that she is getting closer.
"Cresswell, Anthony," then became a Slytherin.
"Creevey, Sarah" becomes the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left explodes with cheers.
"Davies, Elliot" goes to Ravenclaw.
"Dursley, Emily," calls Neville, and she shakily takes a seat on the stool.
"A Dursley," whispers the hat. "Very interesting, very interesting."
"Um," mumbles Emily.
"Cunning, and not a bad mind either; you also work hard," says the hat.
The conversation goes for a couple moments later, before….
"HUFFLEPUFF" cries the hat, and Emily scurries over to the Hufflepuff table. Albus, catches her eye, and gives her a soft smile, as she sits down beside Dominique and starts introducing herself to her Housemates.
"Fredericks, Yann!" calls Neville.
"Gryffindor!" yells the hat.
Sometimes, Albus notices, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it takes a little while to decide. "Jenkins, Karl" was sorted into Hufflepuff immediately. "Jordan, Ashley," the black-haired girl next to Albus in the line, sits on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declares her a Gryffindor.
When MacDougal, Blake is called the hat takes a long time to decide with him. When it finally shouts, "RAVENCLAW," he runs off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "Malfoy, Scorpius."
Scorpius Malfoy strides forward when his name is called; the hat has just barely touches his head before it cries, "SLYTHERIN!"
Scorpius seems to be expecting this, and he nods and half-smiles. The Slytherin table erupts in applause as he joins them.
"Well, that makes sense," Albus can hear someone behind him say.
"Pucey, Jeremy," calls Neville.
"SLYTHERIN!" bellows the hat.
There weren't many people left now. "McLaggen" "Moon" "Murton" "Nolan" "Nott" " "Perks, Cassidy" and then, at last - "Potter, Albus!"
As Albus steps forward, whispers suddenly break out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Another Potter!"
"We all know where he's going!"
The last thing Albus sees before the hat drops over his eyes is the hall full of people still craning to get a good look at him. Next second he is looking at the black inside of the hat. He waits.
"Hmm," says a small voice in his ear. "A Potter. How well I remember sorting your father, and brother. You are much like your father was when he was young. A stark different between you though, concerning thirst for adventure."
"He said you'd take my choice into account," says Albus nervously.
"As I will, but listen. It's all in your head," says the hat. "You're brave surely, and there is talent; oh goodness yes. Not a bad mind, either."
"Not Slytherin," murmurs Albus. "Anywhere but Slytherin."
"Are you sure?" asked the hat. "Slytherin could help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that."
"I'm sure," said Albus. "Not Slytherin. Anywhere but Slytherin."
"Very well. If you're sure, I know just where to put you. Better be GRYFFINDOR!" cries the hat.
Albus hears the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He takes off the hat and walks shakily toward the Gryffindor table, feeling so relieved. He hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet.
Fred and James get up, and give him a pat on the back, while the rest of the table yells, "Potter! We got Potter!"
Albus sits down opposite James, near one of the ghosts he'd seen earlier. The ghost pats his arm, giving Albus the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
He can see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him is sitting Hagrid, who catches his eye and gives him a thumbs up. Albus grins back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress.
"Smith, Violet," calls Neville.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" yells the hat.
The table claps this time; several Hufflepuffs stand up to shake hands with Violet as she joins them.
"Thompson, Gabriel!" calls Neville.
"Gryffindor!" shouts the hat, and Gabriel scuttles off to the Gryffindor table.
"Walker, Jasper," called Neville.
The hat seemed to take a moment before crying, "Gryffindor!"
"Wood, Elizabeth!" calls Neville.
"Gryffindor!" shouts the hat.
And now there are only three people left to be sorted. "Wildsmith, Lisa," becomes a Ravenclaw and then it's Rose's turn. She is pale green now, and Albus crosses his fingers under the table; a few moments later the hat shouts, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Albus claps loudly with the rest as Rose collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Thank Dumbledore!" she says, feeling relieved.
"Well done, Rose," James says, excitedly, sitting across from Albus.
As "Zabini, Adriana," is made a Slytherin, Professor Longbottom rolls up his scroll and takes the Sorting Hat away.
Albus looks down at his empty gold plate. He has only just realized how hungry he was. He had some Pumpkin Pasties on the train, but he was too nervous to eat much.
Minerva McGonagall gets to her feet. She was looking down at the students, looking fairly stern, but pleased to see them all there all the same.
"Welcome," says Minerva. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. Hogwarts School has commanded the respect of the Wizarding World for nearly ten centuries, and the things you learn here, at Hogwarts, will never leave you."
Minerva pauses and gazes around the room. Albus and James feel her eyes fall on them quickly before moving to look at other House tables. "Good luck, new students of Hogwarts. Go forward this year and embrace every challenge it throws your way."
She sits back down. Everybody claps and cheers.
Emily's mouth falls open. The dishes in front of her are now piled with food, thanks to the House Elves. She has never seen so many things she 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.
She loads her plate with a bit of everything including the peppermints and begins to eat.
It was all delicious.
Back at the Gryffindor table, the first-years were in for a surprise.
"That does look good," says the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Albus cut up his roast beef.
"I know who you are!" says Albus suddenly. "James here's told me all about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" begins the ghost stiffly, but brunet-haired Yann Fredericks interrupts him.
"Nearly Headless? How is that possible?"
Sir Nicholas looks extremely miffed, but moves to answer the question.
"Like this," says Sir Nicholas irritably. He seizes his left ear and pulls. His whole head swings off his neck and falls onto his shoulder as if it is 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 flips his head back onto his neck, coughs, and speaks.
"So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors haven't won in 2 years. The Slytherins have got the cup both years. The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost," says Sir Nicholas.
Albus looks over at the Slytherin table and sees a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He is right next to Scorpius Malfoy who seems like he wanted to run from the table.
"How did he get covered in blood?" asks Jasper with great interest.
"I've never asked," says Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When everyone has eaten as much as they can, the remains of the food fads from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appear. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding - "
As Albus helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.
"I'm muggle-born," said Jasper. "Only wizard in my family. How about you guys?"
"Half-blood," said Rose. "My dad's pure blood, but my mum's muggle-born. Elizabeth?"
"Call me, 'Lizzie,' and I'm half-blood as are both my parents," says Elizabeth. "My dad plays for Puddlemere United."
"Wait, your dad's Oliver Wood?!" exclaims Albus.
"Yes," says Elizabeth.
"What's Quidditch?" asked Jasper.
"It's like Muggle football but with more balls and hoops," explained Albus. "Oh, and most importantly it's played in the air, on brooms. It's great!"
"Cool," said Jasper.
"You're dad coached mine when he was at school," says James amused. "He played Quidditch for years. Apparently he is uh, very 'driven'."
"He does love his Quidditch," says Elizabeth laughing. "So a lot of your family is here?"
"Yes," says Rose. "It's James, Al, Victoire, Fred, Molly, and I in Gryffindor. Dominique as well as our cousins Emily are in Hufflepuff."
On Albus's other side, Rose and an older student are talking about lessons. Albus, who is starting to feel warm and sleepy, looks up at the High Table again. Neville drinking deeply from his goblet.
Professor McGonagall is talking to Professor Sprout. Professor Slughorn is chatting away with Professor Longbottom.
"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all full. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is as its name suggests forbidden to all students. 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."
People quietly start chattering about what position they want to play.
"And now, before we all go to bed, let's sing the school song!" cries Minerva. She gives her wand a little flick and a long golden ribbon flies out of it, which rises high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"And off we go!" said Minerva.
And the school bellows:
"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."
Everybody finishes the song at different times. At last, only James and one of his friends are left singing along to a very slow funeral march.
Minerva conducts their last few lines with her wand.
"And now it's getting late. Bedtime; off you go!" says Minerva.
The Gryffindor first years follow Victoire, a Prefect, through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Albus's legs are like lead again, but only because he is so tired and full of food. They climb more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Albus is just wondering how much farther they have to go when they come to a corridor.
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she says.
"Wattlebird," says Victoire, and the portrait swings forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scramble through it – Ashley needs a leg up - and find themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of soft armchairs.
Victoire directs the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another.
Before heading in he hangs back, as his brother caught his eye.
The feast was great, wasn't it" mutters James to Albus.
"It was brilliant," replies Albus.
"I always knew you'd be in Gryffindor," says James.
"Really?" asks Albus.
"Yes," says James earnestly. "There is more than a bit of lion in you little brother."
"Thanks," replies Albus.
Albus was overcome with joy. To know that his brother had had faith in him, even when he was mocking or joking around meant a lot.
"Have a good night Al," says James before heading to his dormitory.
At the top of a spiral staircase - they were obviously in one of the towers - 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.
"What do you think so far?" asked Albus.
"It's awesome," said Jasper. "I feel like I have a lot to learn though."
"You'll get the hang of things," said Albus. "Most of us haven't used much magic before school, so you won't be that far behind."
"Thanks," said Jasper. "I was a bit nervous about that."
"No problem," assured Albus. "What did you think of the feast?"
"The food was great," said Jasper. "I probably shouldn't have eaten so much junk on the train though."
He decides to ask Jasper if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but he falls asleep almost at once.