The stairway was grand, beautiful, and very echoey. Harry thought all the rustling of robes and hushed conversations kind of sounded like shed skin scraping against a rock. At the top of the stairs was a woman with very lovely green robes. Harry was about to point them out to Charybdis when the woman spoke. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and explained the sorting process.

Ron muttered grouchily that his brothers had told him that they would have to battle a troll.

"How large are trolls?"

"They're big, mate. Big and stupid, but I don't think I'd be able to fight one."

"What kind of creatures do you think you could fight?"

The surrounding students soon chipped in with their thoughts, and in a matter of minutes they found themselves in a heated debate over who would be able to fight what.

A boy with an Irish accent who introduced himself as Seamus was adamant that he could battle five Red Caps without magic. "You usually hit 'em with a Beautification Potion, but I reckon the same thing could be done with glitter!"

A girl called Padma started arguing with Draco about house-elves. "House-elves are more dangerous than you'd think. It's only a matter of time until there's an uprising."

"That's absolute codswallop! House-elves have to obey. You can just tell them to stop fighting you!"

Even Neville found himself speaking up. "T-there are some plants that would be tough to fight. Some plants can strangle you really easily, or – uh, or stab you if you come too close."

"Do you mean a cactus, Neville?", Hermione asked.

Neville frowned, somewhat affronted, and spoke with more confidence. "No, I mean a Sparkling Swordplant. Some wizard from the 1400s bred them to guard his armoury… They're a sort of climbing plant that looks like a sword mounted on the wall until you come too close, and then it stabs you."

Hermione stared at Neville, wide-eyed, then looked at the knights in armour and framed medieval weapons lining the walls. Following her gaze, Neville shook his head. "Those aren't plants. I read that Hogwarts keeps its dangerous plants in a specific greenhouse."

That was somewhat reassuring, Hermione thought, although it was a bit odd to have swords and weapons all about a school. However, she supposed, they were in a castle, so it made sense.

Harry was watching the chaos unfold, whispering quietly to Bob. "Do you think we should bring one of those plants back?"

"Maybe we can make our own… Something special. Need to think of something."

"Right – Neville said the wizard bred his own plants. I bet we could do that!"

Tuning back into the chaos, Ron was now shouting at Draco about dragons. "My brother Charlie could so fight a dragon! He works with them, so he knows their secrets!"

Harry cut in with, "What secrets do dragons have?"

Ron turned to him, red-faced and stuttering, "Well, it's, well – their tactics!"

He was about to inquire about the battle tactics of dragons when Professor McGonagall opened the doors again. The shouting immediately stopped, everyone straightening up at once. The Professor squinted her eyes at the students. "Clean yourselves up. We will begin calling students momentarily."

The sorting began and Harry was beyond excited. He looked around the Great Hall in awe. "The floating candles would look great in the bunker!", he whispered to Bob.

Staring at the teacher's table, he could see Professor Quirrell sitting next to a man in all black. "Ron, is that guy a vampire?"

Squinting at where Harry was not-so-subtly pointing, Ron yelped and lowered Harry arm. "Mate, don't piss him off before we've even started! That's Snape – he teaches Potions. Fred and George say he's wicked mean and he'll take points for anything unless you're a Slytherin. Which… I mean, I guess you're going to be a Slytherin though, right?"

"Of course. Is he a vampire though?"

"No! Blimey, why do you think he's vampire?"

"Well, he's dressed all in black and he looks pretty…erm…", Harry made a kind of exaggerated frowny face, making some of the other students giggle. "I guess it's just a fashion choice then."

Charybdis, who had been wrapped around Harry's wrist, poked her head out of his sleeve at the mention of fashion. "That man with the beard has the best fashion."

Looking at the man with the vibrant robes and long, white beard, Harry gasped. "Gandalf…?"

Hermione laughed and whispered, "That's the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He's famous for – eep!" She was cut off by Professor McGonagall calling her name.

Harry watched as Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor in only a few seconds. As he watched student after student be sorted, he absentmindedly wondered what all the Professors' Houses were. As he tried to figure out who belonged in which House, his name was called. Harry jolted, then walked as quickly as he could without running. Sitting on the stool, he was practically vibrating with excitement as the Sorting Hat was placed upon his head.

"Ah, what a mind…", he heard the Sorting Hat say in his mind.

"Thanks! Can I be Slytherin please?"

"Right to it, I see…Well, let me at least take a look at you!

Hmm, lots of knowledge, but not a Ravenclaw – not with such a limited scope. Hufflepuff is a definite no… You've got the hard work and patience down, but you're not overly concerned with being fair or humble, are you?"

"…"

"Now, Gryffindor is a possibility. You're certainly bold and brave… Chivalrous though? Not quite. You can be quite a scoundrel! …I say, many of these escapades of yours were wildly illegal – no, no, don't worry. I'm here to sort you, not tell the world all about your crazed hijinks. You'll need to be a little more careful here though… Hmmm, no. Gryffindor is definitely out.

Which leaves Slytherin… You have, over the years, cultivated a very Slytherin way of going about things. Cunning, resourceful, ambitious. Though, your ambition is to… Hmm… Well, that's certainly taking Slytherin to a new level.

Well, this was very interesting. Better be –"

"WAIT!"

"…yes?"

"Can you sort Bob and Charybdis too?"

"Ah, well… I'm afraid I'm on a tight schedule. Maybe in the future. Better be SLYTHERIN!"

As he hopped off the stool, Harry muttered, "Sorry guys. I'll make sure you get sorted! I'll break into where they keep the hat or something." Behind him, he heard Professor Quirrell choke on his drink.

Harry wandered over to the Slytherin table and sat opposite Draco. "Hi Draco! I told you I'd be Slytherin."

Draco smiled smugly, "But it didn't sort you as fast as it sorted me, did it?"

"Oh, that's because I tried to get Bob and Charybdis sorted too. It said it was too busy."

"Who are Bob and Charybdis?", a girl with glossy black hair asked.

Harry pulled his sleeve to the side, "Charybdis", then pulled his collar to the side, "and Bob."

Bob whispered, "Network, now."

"Right…Hello, I'm Harry Potter." He stuck his hand out and attempted a handshake, which ended up being very awkward as he had to lean right across the table. He quietly made his introductions with the other students until the final student, Blaise Zabini ("Charybdis says you're very nice to look at." "…I get that a lot.") was sorted.

After all the students were sorted, Professor Dumbledore made his speech. Bob was impressed with how straightforward he was. "Very good that he told you all not to die on the third floor." Harry agreed, but it looked like the other students didn't.

When the food appeared, Harry snuck a single quail egg into his sleeve for Charybdis, popped a couple into Bob's mouth, and put a few on his plate as well. He liked that they were so small and dainty.

There were so many delicious smells in the Great Hall that Harry had to really focus to stop drooling. As he loaded his plate, he could hear Draco bragging to Pansy and Blaise about knowing 'The Boy Who Lived'. He was still annoyed by that title. They could have come up with something much cooler. Harry momentarily wished he had brought some comic books with him – the heroes and villains all had really cool names.

He started thinking about what he was going to tell Dudley in his letter – he had planned to write one as soon as he got into his bed. Dudley would have liked all the food at Hogwarts… Harry absentmindedly stuffed his mouth with quail eggs as he planned his letter and was shaken from his thoughts by a synchronised gasp.

Looking up, he could see that Blaise, Pansy, and even Crabbe ("Crabbe, not Vincent.") and Greg ("Just Greg, thanks.") were staring at him in varying levels of shock. Draco seemed to have missed it, and simply had a look of bewilderment as he scanned everyone's faces. Greg raised his eyebrows and simply said, "Neat." Harry bet that Dudley would like Greg…

From the Head Table, Quirrell clenched his jaw so as not to laugh as he watched Potter shove several eggs in his mouth at once – shell and all. Next to him, Snape had paused with a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth and was staring at the boy with a blank look on his face. Both Professors could tell it was going to be an interesting year.