Chapter 7

The Sorting Hat

The door opened at once as though they were expected, which Harry quickly realized they had been. A tall witch with black hair pulling into a tight bun and emerald green robes greeted them. Violet smiled and gave the woman a coy wave. The woman looked at her and the corners of her mouth twitched.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.

Oh, Harry thought, so this was the woman Violet referred to as Auntie. Harry swallowed nervously. She did not look like a woman to cross.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide and led the first years into an entry way so large the Dursleys entire house would have fit inside. The stone walls were lined with lit torches and to their right was a massive marble staircase leading upstairs.

They followed Professor McGonagall past the stairs and a set of double doors. Harry caught a glimpse of a large lit room full of chattering students. The witch led them instead to a small room to the side of Great Hall. They crowded together, nervously standing closer together than they normally would.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall told them. "The start of term feast will begin shortly but first you must be sorted into your houses. This is an important step in your education because while you are here, your house will be your home. You will have classes with people in your house, sleep in your house dormitories, and spend free time in your house common rooms.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, each with their own noble history. At the end of every year, we give out the House Cup based on a point system. Your triumphs, both in and out of the classroom, will gain you points. Rule breaking will lose you points. I know each of you will be a fine addition to whichever house becomes yours. The ceremony will take place in front of the rest of the school."

She scanned the crowd and then locked eyes on Ron. "You there, you've got dirt on you face." Ron rubbed away the smudge quickly. McGonagall saw several students with similar problems. "Everyone please make sure your shirts are tucked in and ties are straightened." There was a flurry of movement as several people adjusted their uniforms. She eyed Harry and held out her hand. "Your glasses please, Mr. Potter." Harry took off his glasses, confused, and handed them over. She tapped the frames with her wand, repairing them and removing the tape from the bridge. She handed them back. Harry put them back on. They were much more comfortable to wear without the tape on the bridge. Finally, Professor McGonagall gave Neville a pitying look. Instead of giving him an order, she descended on him and helped him straighten his cloak, which had been fastened under his ear. Satisfied, she gave the room an approving nod.

"Now wait here while I prepare for the sorting ceremony."

She closed the door, leaving them alone.

"How do they decide what house we're going into?" Harry asked.

He and Ron looked expectantly at Violet. She shrugged.

"How do you not know?" Ron asked incredulously. "You were raised by one of the teachers."

"Your whole family has been," she countered. "You don't know either."

"Did you ever ask her?" Harry asked before Ron could argue back.

"Of course, I did." Violet made a poor attempt at a Scottish accent like McGonagall's. "It's important you don't know the process to avoid any biases." She sighed irritably. "It's not even in Hogwarts: A History. I think it's just tradition to keep it a secret at this point."

Harry swallowed nervously. Any second they would be led away to their doom…

"What the-?"

Harry and several other jumped in fright as several pearly, translucent figures entered the room. They glided through the wall and hung several inches off the floor.

"Forgive and forget," a fat monk said. "Why can't he have a chance?"

"Because he has been given many chances," a gentleman with a ruff around his neck answered. "He gives us all a bad name and he's not even really a ghost…" He stopped speaking as he noticed the first years looking up at them with wide eyes. "I say, what are you doing here?"

"New students," a haughty woman wearing a gray cloak observed.

The monk smiled broadly.

"I hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house you know."

"Yet another reason Peeves will not be joining the feast." A fourth ghost with a wheezing voice drifted through the wall. To Harry's horror, this ghost had splashes of blood all down his front. The haughty woman ghost gave him a hard look before gliding away through the opposite wall. He stared after her a moment before looking back at the monk. "I remember your school days, my dear Friar. As such I remember quite clearly how you used to aide Peeves in his mischief in both life and death."

The fat friar smiled, but a sharp voice called into the room before he could respond.

"Move along now," McGonagall said. "The sorting ceremony is about to begin." The ghost floated away one by one. "Line up here. Now follow me."

Harry felt as though his legs had turned to jelly as he got in line behind Violet. They followed McGonagall back down the hall and through the double doors into the Great Hall.

There was another collective gasp as they looked around. The room was lit by thousands of candles that floated high in the air. The other students sat at four long tables laid with glittering plates and goblets. The first years made their way down the aisle between the middle two tables towards a fifth, long table where the teachers and Hagrid sat. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts gave off a silver glow. The ceiling mirrored the evening sky and was even flecked with stars. McGonagall led them to a space between the four student tables and the staff table. A three-legged stool sat before them. Resting on the stool was a very old, dusty and over-patched hat.

"Do we have to pull a rabbit out of it?" Harry whispered to Ron. Ron shrugged.

Everyone in the hall seemed to be staring at the hat so Harry, Violet and Ron stared too. Suddenly, a large rip at the brim opened wide and the hat started to sing.

Oh you may not think I'm 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 whole hall applauded the hat's song as the hat bowed to each of the four tables before going still again.

"So we just have to try on the hat?" Ron whispered with relief. "I'll kill Fred. He said something about wrestling a troll."

"Not his fault you believed him," Violet teased.

Harry was glad the ceremony was simple, but he wished it wasn't in front of the whole school with everyone watching. McGonagall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, step forward, sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted." She looked at her list. "Abbot, Hannah."

The girl with blonde pigtails stepped nervously out of the crowd and approached the witch. She sat on the stool and pulled on the hat with trembling hands.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat announced a moment later.

The table to the right cheered. Hannah removed the hat and placed it back on the stool before joining the table. The fat friar waved merrily at her. After a moment, they went quiet and McGonagall called the next name.

"Bones, Susan."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry."

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second on the left clapped this time.

"Brocklehurst, Manny" went to Ravenclaw. "Brown, Lavender," a cute blonde girl with a heart shaped face, became the first Gryffindor and joined the table on the far left. "Bulstrode, Millicent" joined the Slytherin table, shortly followed by "Crabbe, Vincent." It could have been his imagination, but the Slytherins looked like an unpleasant lot to Harry. Harry noticed several of them talking behind their hands while looking at him. He flattened his bangs over his scar nervously as "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" went to Hufflepuff.

Sometimes the hat called the house name right away. But other times the hat seemed to need a minute to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus" sat under the hat for a full minute before declared a Gryffindor. Hermione practically ran when her name was called and jammed the hat eagerly onto her head. It was nearly two minutes before the hat decided she too was a Gryffindor. But "Goyle, Gregory" was sorted into Slytherin in no time. The hat took even longer with Neville before finally placing him in Gryffindor as well. He was so excited to be placed that he forgot to take the hat off and had to jog back as many laughed at him to give the hat to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy barely had the hat on for a second before he got his wish and was sorted into Slytherin. Harry's nerves were getting the better of him and he barely heard the next six names. Finally…

"Potter, Harry."

Whispers and mutters erupted as Harry stepped forward. He looked up at McGonagall nervously. Her back to the crowd of students, she surprised him with a reassuring nod. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and placed the hat on his head. It was so big it slipped over his eyes so he couldn't see the crowd.

"Difficult," a small, low voice said. "Very difficult. Plenty of talent. Lots of courage. And a thirst to prove yourself. That is interesting. But where to put you?"

Not Slytherin, Harry thought, almost praying.

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You would be good there. No? Better be… Gryffindor!"

The last word was said aloud. The table of Gryffindors exploded in screaming cheers. The Weasley twins clapped while chanting "We got Potter!" It was several minutes before it was quiet enough to continue sorting.

"Potter, Violet!" McGonagall called once the cheering from Harry's placement settled.

Violet stepped up to the stool. She smiled at McGonagall who gave her a small smile in return. As she turned to face the crowd of students, she spotted a dark figure at the staff table. He looked at her with a strange expression, surprise perhaps? Her smile wavering slightly under the dark figure's intense gaze, Violet sat on the stool and McGonagall placed the sorting hat on her head. Just like everyone else, it completely covered her head so the brim rested on her shoulders. After a brief moment the hat cried, "GRYFFINDOR!"

McGonagall removed the hat and Violet grinned broadly. The strange look the dark haired teacher had given her was driven the back of her mind as she joined her brother at the Gryffindor table, sitting between him and Hermione Granger.

There were only four people left to sort. "Thomas, Dean" joined the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa" became a Ravenclaw. It was finally Ron's turn. Harry kept his finger crossed under the table as Ron approached McGonagall, looking faintly sick. The hat quickly announced Ron to be a Gryffindor. Harry and Violet clapped with the other Gryffindors as Ron sat on Harry's other side. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise" became a Slytherin. McGonagall rolled up her parchment and took the hat and stool away. When she returned Dumbledore stood and silence fell.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin the feast, I' like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry and Ron exchanged confused looks.

"Is he a bit mad?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Auntie says there's a fine line between genius and insanity and that Professor Dumbledore has always enjoyed walking it," Violet said. "Pass the potatoes, will you?"

Harry's gaze returned to the table and his jaw dropped. The sparkling gold plates were now loaded with every food imaginable: roasted chicken, roast beef, several different potato dishes, Yorkshire pudding, steak, peas, carrots, bacon, sausage and even peppermint humbugs, for some weird reason. Harry loaded his plate with everything he could reach, ignoring only the peppermints. Everything was delicious.

"Enjoying the meal?" asked the ghost with the ruff around his neck.

"Very much," Seamus said.

"Can you…?" Harry started.

"I haven't eaten in over four hundred years," he answered the unasked question. Harry had the impression he had been asked many times before. "I don't need too, but I do miss it sometimes. I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington. I am the resident ghost of Gryffindor."

"I know who you are," Ron cut in. "You're Nearly Headless Nick. My brothers told me about you."

"I would prefer the name Sir Ni-"

"Nearly Headless?" Dean asked. "How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicolas sighed irritably.

"Like this."

He tugged on his left ear. His entire head swung off his neck and landed on his shoulder. He had obviously been the victim of a bad beheading because a small amount of flesh kept his head barely attached to his body. Looking pleased at the stunned expressions, Sir Nicholas righted his head and adjusted his ruff so it wouldn't accidentally fall.

"So, new Gryffindors, I do hope you will help us win the House Cup. Slytherin has won for the last seven years. The Bloody Baron is becoming unbearable."

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table. The gaunt ghost covered in blood that had argued with the Hufflepuff ghost was seated next to Malfoy, apparently staring off into space. Malfoy did not look happy with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in all that blood?" Seamus asked.

"I've never asked," Sir Nicholas answered delicately.

Once everyone had finished dinner, the food vanished, leaving the plates sparkling clean. The next moment the table filled with puddings and ice creams of every description and flavor. Harry loaded his plate with treacle tart as conversation turned to their families.

"Me mam's a witch, but dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him until after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him!"

Everyone laughed.

"What about you Neville?" Ron asked as he served himself a large serving of ice cream.

For some reason, Neville cast a nervous glance at Violet before answering. "I was brought up by my gran. But my family thought I was all muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to scare magic out of me. He tossed me off the Blackpool Pier once. I nearly drowned! But then it finally happened! Great Uncle Algie was hanging me over the balcony by my ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a drink and he accidentally let go. But I bounced! They were all so pleased. Gran was even crying. And you should have seen them when I got my letter. They didn't think I had enough magic to come here, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased that he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Violet and Hermione were talking across the table with Percy about classes.

"I do hope lessons start right away," Hermione said excitedly. "Transfiguration sounds particularly exciting."

"Auntie will love you," Violet chuckled. "Professor McGonagall to you, that is. I think charms will be more useful in daily life, but I also really want to get into potions. Most of my family have been potioneers."

Percy smiled at their enthusiasm.

"You'll start all your classes small. In transfiguration, needles to matchsticks and that sort of thing. If I remember correctly, my very first potions class we made a cure for boils."

Harry was feeling warm and a bit drowsy as he looked up at the high table. McGonagall and Dumbledore were talking. Hagrid was drinking rather heavily. Quirrell, now wearing an absurd turban, was talking to another teacher with black hair and black robes.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped his hand to his head.

"Harry, are you alright?" Violet asked.

Just as quick as it came, the pain that shot through his scar faded.

"Fine."

The pain was gone but it was hard to shake the feeling he got when the dark hair teacher looked at him. It had been an expression of pure venom, as though the teacher hated him already. But how was that possible? He's never met the man before.

"Percy, who is that teacher, talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"You know Professor Quirrell already? No wonder he's so nervous. That's professor Snape, the potions teacher. But most people think he actually wants Quirrell's job because he knows a lot about the dark arts."

Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape never looked back at him. Some time later, the dessert plates cleared themselves and Dumbledore stood. Silence fell once again.

"I have a few start-of-term notices. First, our care taker, Mr. Filch, would like to remind you that Fanged Frisbees are not allowed in the corridors or courtyards. A full list of banned items has been posted on his office door. Also, the Dark Forrest is out of bounds. To all students," Dumbledore added, his eyes flickering towards the Weasley twins. "Finally, the third floor corridor is off limits to anyone who does not wish a most painful death."

"Is he serious?" Violet whispered. Ron and Harry shrugged.

"All that having been said, you are dismissed to your dormitories. Your beds await."

"Gryffindor's follow me," Percy called to the first years. "Stay close."

Percy led them up stairs, down corridors, and through doors hidden by tapestries. Harry was very tired but still amazed to see the numerous paintings were moving and talking! Percy stopped only when they entered a corridor and found their path blocked by a bundle of walking sticks floating in midair.

"Peeves," Percy told the first years. "He's a poltergeist. Peeves, show yourself!"

A loud raspberry sounded.

"Don't make me get the Bloody Baron," Percy threatened.

With a pop, Peeves, a little man with a wicked, wide smile, appeared before them, sitting cross legged in midair as he held the bundle of walking sticks.

"Little firsties!" he cackled. "What fun!"

"Go away, Peeves!" Percy ordered. "I mean it, the Baron will hear of this!"

Peeves blew another loud, wet raspberry, dropped all the walking sticks on Neville and Lavender Brown, and then flew away cackling madly.

Percy made sure neither Neville nor Lavender were hurt and then continued guiding them through the halls until the reached the end of a very long corridor. They faced a portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy answered.

The portrait swung open, revealing a doorway. Percy led the way into a circular room decorated with scarlet and gold banners, over stuffed armchairs and couches. He led the girls to one set of stairs and the boys to another set. Violet bid her brother and Ron a good night and followed Hermione, Lavender and the other Patil twin to the girls' dorm. Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean made their way up another spiral staircase until they found a door with a brass plaque labeled "First Years." They went in and found five four poster beds, five wardrobes, and five nightstands in a circular room. Their trunks and Hedwig's cage had already been brought up. Scabbers snoozed on Ron's pillow. Ron sighed when he saw the rat had already chewed a hole in the sheet.

"Great food," Ron said as they got into bed.

Harry wanted to ask Ron if he had any of the treacle tart, but fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Harry must had eaten too much because he had a terrible dream. He was wearing Quirrell's turban and it told him he had to transfer to Slytherin because he was his destiny. Harry protested because he didn't want to go to Slytherin. The turban grew heavier so he tried to pull it off, but it only tightened painfully around his head. Draco Malfoy was laughing at him, but he then turned into Snape who's laugh was cold and high. Then there was a burst of green light. Harry woke with a start, sweating and shaky.

He rolled over and fell asleep, forgetting the dream by morning.