Chapter Ninety-Nine - The Sorting Hat's New Song
Torches set the entrance hall ablaze with light as footsteps echoed off stone pavement. Harry jumped down from his carriage, sparing one last glance at the mysterious creatures who had brought them to the castle, before he followed the rest of his classmates into the Great Hall.
He parted ways with Hermione and Neville at the door. Although his two Gryffindor friends usually ate their meals at the Slytherin table, they would observe the proper formalities for the sorting ceremony that always came with the start-of-term feast. Harry turned to offer the same courtesy to Luna Lovegood, but she and Nell had already drifted toward the Ravenclaw table, deep in conversation with a few mutual friends.
As Harry, Blaise and Millie made their way toward their own table, a flurry of whispers announced his passing. Harry ignored them. He had grown used to the attention over the years, and was able to proudly keep his head high as he took his place among his fellow Slytherins.
"Check it out," Blaise murmured, nodding to a spot further down the table. Draco Malfoy had approached his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, but upon seeing their former leader, the pair crossed their ham-like arms over their broad chests and stared at him menacingly. Clearly, he was no longer welcome.
Draco, looking shamefaced, backed away from them quickly. Casting his eyes around for a safe harbor, he gratefully accepted a seat by Pansy Parkinson, who had witnessed the interaction with Crabbe and Goyle with astonishment. She began whispering fretfully to Draco, obviously curious to know what could have disrupted their little gang. It was a question Harry knew Draco would struggle to answer. He couldn't hear the explanation Draco offered to Pansy, but it was obvious that his departure from his father's home had spread amongst the other Death Eaters.
Millie had not been attentive to this small drama. She had been scanning the staff table, only to confirm, "Hagrid's not here, either."
"He must be on the mission Dumbledore gave him," Harry whispered, glancing around to ensure they weren't overheard. But the chatter of students excited to see their friends after the long vacation formed a perfect cover. No one had paid them the slightest attention since they sat down.
Millie nodded her head in agreement before adding, "I just wish we knew what it was!"
"Bloody Uruk-hai!" Blaise exclaimed suddenly, their discussion having drawn his attention to the staff table as well, "Check out the new teacher!"
Harry instantly knew to whom Blaise was referring. There was a new face at the staff table, seated directly beside Dumbledore. She would be hard to miss. She was dressed in a shockingly pink cardigan with a dress to match. Her hair was short, curly, and topped with a hideously childish headband. As she turned her face to gaze around at all the students, Harry was reminded distinctly of a fat toad, searching for flies.
Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers were in short supply these days, but Harry couldn't help but wonder where on earth Dumbledore had found this one. Still musing, his eyes traveled absently over the other staff members, coming to rest on Professor Snape. Their eyes met, and Snape gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod of recognition before turning to speak with Professor Vector.
Harry had not seen or heard from Snape all summer, nor had he expected to. In fact, he had been relieved by the potion master's absence. Snape and his godfather did not get along. At first, he suspected that it was Sirius who kept Snape away, barring his entry even from important meetings. But with the arrival of Mrs. Malfoy and her son, Harry had formed a very different notion.
Snape was a double agent, passing himself off as a loyal follower of Voldemort, while serving Dumbledore all the while. If it turned out that Mrs. Malfoy was really a spy for the Dark Lord, then Snape's regular appearance at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix would be difficult to explain.
Harry put all thoughts of the Order and Snape from his mind as the general hum of conversation died down and Professor McGonagall led the new class of first years forward for sorting. As usual, the Sorting Hat was placed on a stool between the staff table and row of waiting students. A frayed seam near the brim opened wide, and the Sorting Hat performed its annual song:
In times of old, when I was new,
And Hogwarts barely started,
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted.
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
"Together we will build and teach"
The four good friends decided.
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided.
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there, so I can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry's purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest."
Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name."
Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot
And treat them just the same."
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light.
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning just like him.
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest
and taught them all she knew,
Thus, the houses and their founders
Maintained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four
Had once held up our school
Now turned upon each other and
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end.
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend.
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for.
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes.
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you…
Let the Sorting now begin.
When the hat became still once more, the usual applause was punctured by fervent whispers. Harry understood their concern. The hat usually confined its songs to descriptions of the different qualities each house was meant to embody and its own role in sorting them. He couldn't remember any year in which it had given them advice.
Professor McGonagall's stern expression silenced the muttering crowd. She unfurled her scroll and began reading off the names of the waiting students, starting with "Abercrombie, Euan."
As Abercrombie stumbled happily toward the cheering Gryffindor table, Harry leaned closer to his friends to discuss the Sorting Hat's dire warning.
"D'you think it was referring to Voldemort?" he asked, "Is that what it meant by deadly foes?"
"I think that much is obvious," replied Millie.
Blaise was also in agreement. "It's kept in Dumbledore's office all year, isn't it? It must have picked up on a few things."
Harry replayed the lyrics in his mind, musing aloud, "The song suggested that we'd be stronger if united…"
Blaise scoffed at the idea of cooperation between the houses. "Among the other three, maybe. But they all hate us. Slytherins have always known we need to take care of ourselves. No one else will."
Harry looked at Millie, hoping she would have a suitable retort to Blaise's pessimism, but she was nodding her head in agreement. He turned his gaze around the rest of the hall instead. He spotted Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table, cheerfully welcoming another new student to their house. Among the Ravenclaws, Nell sat by Luna Lovegood, the two of them engaged in a friendly debate over some article in Luna's magazine. And at the Hufflepuff table, only a short distance away, was Cedric Diggory, his Head Boy badge gleaming proudly on his chest.
"I don't know about that," Harry said finally, "We've made friends in other houses, haven't we? And think of Draco and Ron. If the two of them can share a bedroom without fighting, I think anything is possible."
Blaise merely rolled his eyes and said, "You'll be having us take tea with Filch next, I suppose."
Harry quieted him as a familiar name rang out. "Pandey, Omnivora" had just been called to the stool.
A short girl with dark hair stood in the ever dwindling row of students. She seemed confused until Professor McGonagall obligingly signaled with her hand. The girl then walked forward, casting a nervous glance toward the Slytherin table. Her brother, Herbivorous Pandey, known to his friends as simply "Herb," gave her a thumbs up. Smiling faintly, Omnivora sat on the stool, allowing the large hat to fall over her eyes as she waited to be sorted.
Harry was reminded of his own sorting four years ago. At the time, he had heard a small voice in his ear. It had spoken to him, weighing whether or not to sort him into Slytherin or Gryffindor. Harry knew that Herb's sister communicated via sign, and he wondered what the experience was like for her when she gave a small start just before the Sorting Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Delighted, Omnivora tripped lightly to their table, taking a seat between her brother and Colin Creevy. She looked very pleased with herself.
The ceremony concluded soon after "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into Hufflepuff. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and marched away as Dumbledore rose to his feet. Harry knew the headmaster's habits too well to expect a long speech before their meal. Sure enough, Dumbledore opened the feast with only the following words, "To our newcomers, welcome! To our old friends, welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
A few of the students laughed as the headmaster returned to his seat, flinging his long white beard over his shoulder as the golden platters on each table blossomed with fresh piles of food. Harry helped himself to a large portion of steak-and-kidney pie. Having spent his entire summer in the company of his two closest friends, there was little they needed to discuss over supper. While the rest of their class chatted around them, Harry ate his meal in comfortable silence, ruminating on the Sorting Hat's song.
At last, the general talk began to die down. As the clatter of knives and forks against the golden plates became less frequent, Dumbledore rose from his throne-like chair again, this time to deliver the start-of-term notices.
"First years, please note that the forest is out of bounds to students. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."
Dumbledore paused, a mischievous smile flitting across his face as he added, "If you have any questions regarding prohibited items, I have been informed that Misters Fred and George Weasley have become experts on the subject, and can advise you accordingly."
Appreciative laughter sounded from the Gryffindor table, as Fred and George rose to take demonstrative bows. Dumbledore indulgently allowed the applause to pass by as if he had not been interrupted, though Harry noticed a very sour expression on the new professor's face.
"You don't think Mrs. Weasley warned him about the extendable ears, do you?" muttered Blaise, "What if Filch adds them to the banned list?"
"Has breaking the rules ever stopped us before?" Millie inquired.
"And this from a prefect," Blaise said with a shake of his head, "Millie, I am surprised at you!"
Harry shushed his two friends. Dumbledore had resumed his speech and announced two staff changes that year.
"We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will oversee Care of Magical Creatures lessons. We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
There was another round of polite, but unenthusiastic applause following this announcement. Harry exchanged a worried glance with Blaise and Millie. He couldn't help but notice the way Dumbledore avoided any mention of Hagrid, or how long Grubbly-Plank would be covering his classes.
Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the…"
"Hem, hem."
The headmaster's speech broke off abruptly as he, as well as the rest of the school, turned to stare at the cause of the interruption. Professor Umbridge was not much taller standing than sitting, but she had in fact risen to her feet. Apparently, she intended to make a speech.
Dumbledore looked taken aback for a moment, but it quickly passed. He promptly sat down and looked at Professor Umbridge with attention, obviously setting an example for his students, who proceeded to whisper to one another at this unusual breach of protocol. They were not the only ones unable to hide their surprise as effectively as Dumbledore. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had risen so high that they had disappeared among her salt and pepper curls. Professor McGonagall's mouth had set in a thin line, reminding Harry of his Aunt Petunia whenever he'd accidentally dragged dirt onto her freshly vacuumed floors.
Professor Umbridge seemed immune to the reactions she had caused, however. She simpered with mock sweetness as she said, "Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome."
Harry had learned to trust his instincts when meeting new people. He had disliked Gilderoy Lockhart, and he had been a fraud. He'd felt a certain kinship with Remus, and he had turned out to be one of his father's best friends. Last year, he felt an instant dislike of Bartimaeus Crouch Sr, and though he may not have deserved the fate that befell him, he had certainly been a very cruel man to both house elves and his own family. Now, as Harry stared at Professor Umbridge in her ridiculous pink cardigan, listening to her high-pitched voice, he felt an intense rush of dislike. He didn't know where this feeling originated, but he knew that he hated this woman with every fiber of his being.
"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" she continued in the same breathy, girlish voice, "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"
Harry heard Millie scoff. He glanced at her, then around the rest of the Great Hall. There certainly didn't seem to be anyone who looked particularly happy to see Umbridge. A few of them had continued their whispering, only breaking off when Umbridge cleared her voice again with a pert, "Hem, hem."
When she felt that she had command of everyone's attention, she continued, her voice a little less breathy now, and full of authority, "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Here she paused to make a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Harry glanced at Snape, whose skill at keeping a neutral expression was serving him well in this moment, though he was staring blankly into space. He almost looked as though his soul had entirely left his body.
"Hem, hem," Umbridge said again, and this time Harry was sure he'd be hearing that absurd little cough in his dreams, "Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there would be stagnation and decay. However, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"
Harry found his attention waning. He wondered if Umbridge's lectures were going to be as redundant and boring as her speeches. He amused himself with trying to get Snape's attention for a moment, but when this failed, began looking about the room at the other house tables. At the Hufflepuff table, Cedric Diggory was one of the few students still staring at Professor Umbridge, though his eyes had taken on the same glassy-eyed appearance as Snape's. Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen, perhaps trying to live up to the expectations set by the Head Boy badge on his chest. At the Ravenclaw table, Nell had started chatting with the boy seated next to her while Luna Lovegood had pulled out her curious magazine again. The only student who really seemed engaged with what Umbridge was saying was Hermione Granger, and she was glaring at the professor with a distinct scowl.
"... some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped, setting off a short, apathetic round of applause. Harry noticed that Snape put his hands together only once, startled out of his private reverie.
Blaise yawned widely as Dumbledore rose to his feet to resume his announcements, as if he had not been interrupted at all.
"Well, that was certainly… something," he said.
"You mean you were actually listening?" Millie asked.
"I heard enough to guess what she's driving at," Blaise replied with a sneer of disdain, "It's Fudge's doing. Clearly he wants someone to keep an eye on Dumbledore. All that drivel she was spewing about the Ministry? It just means they're interfering at Hogwarts."
Before Harry could ask Blaise if that was really possible, Dumbledore concluded his announcements and dismissed the school. Draco approached Millie awkwardly as all around the Hall their classmates prepared to file away to their dormitories.
"Um… We're supposed to show the new students where to go…"
Millie, rolling her eyes, rose from her seat to join him reluctantly.
"I wouldn't change places with you for all the galleons in Gringotts!" Blaise called after her retreating form.
Harry, spying Omnivora Pandey among the first years who trailed in Millie's wake, smiled at her. He made a sign of welcome, using some of the knowledge he had retained from his lessons with Herb the previous year. Omnivora merely looked startled, then hurried away after Millie and Draco. Harry, feeling a little discouraged and wondering if he had signed something wrong, followed Blaise.
They had ample opportunity to discuss Umbridge during their walk down to the dungeons. Blaise repeated his belief that she had only been granted the position due to Ministry interference.
"I mean, no one's exactly eager for the position, are they?" he stated. "I'll bet when Dumbledore failed to find someone for the job, the Ministry forced Umbridge in as the only alternative."
They might have given more consideration to what this could mean for their education, but it was more fun to trade insults at Umbridge's expense instead.
The Slytherin common room was as welcoming as a damp, underwater dungeon full of black leather armchairs and cold marble columns could be. A fire crackled merrily in the large stone fireplace and the torches along the walls cast the familiar surroundings in a warm light. Harry spotted a merperson flit by outside one of the submerged windows before turning up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
Crabbe and Goyle had beaten them there. Their conversation broke off abruptly as Harry entered the room, a clear indicator that it was him they had been discussing. The pair watched Harry with dark expressions as he made his way to his bed. Harry tried to ignore them, but the atmosphere was too oppressive. Turning away from his trunk, he faced them with a defiant air.
"Right. If you've got something to say to me, you'd better say it now. I don't want to deal with the two of you glaring at me every time I'm changing clothes."
They hesitated. Draco used to do all the talking for them. It seemed neither was sure where to begin. It was Goyle who finally spoke first.
"You've got a lot of nerve, showing your face here again."
"I belong here," Harry replied coolly, "It's not like my father's in league with Lord Voldemort. Isn't there some kind of Death Eater Academy you two could join?"
Goyle looked ready to take a swing at him, but Crabbe held him back. Screwing up his face as if forming a complete sentence were a new task for him, he said, "Better to be a Death Eater than Dumbledore's toady."
"Toady?" Blaise countered, coming to Harry's defense in an instant, "That's rich, coming from you! You were happy to lick Draco's boots last year!"
Now it was Crabbe who looked ready to fight. Things were starting to get heated when Draco himself abruptly appeared and demanded, "What's going on?"
Goyle's anger found a new target in Draco.
"We heard…" he said in a low growl, "We know that your mum's run off… That she betrayed the Dark Lord. And you, Draco… You're a coward if you side with Potter."
"Don't talk about my mother," Draco said firmly.
Goyle went on the offensive, telling Draco in no uncertain terms what he thought about Mrs. Malfoy. If their roles had been reversed, and Harry had been forced to hear his own mother berated in such language, he would have gone for his wand and earned himself an expulsion. But Draco remained calm and merely pointed to the badge on his chest.
"Need I remind you that I'm a prefect?" Draco asked, a glimmer of his old imperious self returning, "So long as you want to remain in Hogwarts, you'll fall in line. You mess with me or Potter, and I'll stick you both with detentions until you've graduated. If you can get that far without me, that is. You're both so thick, it'll take a miracle for you to pass your OWLs without my help."
Goyle and Crabbe looked murderous, but they backed down… for the moment. Darting another angry scowl at Harry and Blaise, they turned away, angrily stalking to their side of the room where they grunted at one another in angry whispers.
Draco exchanged a glance with Harry. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. He still didn't entirely care for Draco, but he was impressed by the way he kept his cool. Realizing that Draco had in all likelihood prevented a fight from breaking out on their first day back, he awkwardly said, "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Draco muttered quickly, turning away.
Harry didn't need to be told twice. They prepared for sleep with nothing further said on either side.
