The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

'The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall,' said Hagrid.

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

They followed Professor McGonagall into the castle, she led the group into a small chamber and turned to them.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' she said. 'The start-of-term-banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.'

Harry saw out of the corner of his eye that Draco's face broke into a happy smile.

'You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

'The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

'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.'

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Ron Weasley, who had a smudge on his nose and whose robes looked a little crumpled. Draco hid his spiteful grin more or less successfully. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

'I shall return when we are ready for you,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Please wait quietly.'

She left the chamber, Harry swallowed.

'How exactly do they sort us into houses?' he asked Draco.

'Nagged my parents all summer, but they just wouldn't tell me! They jus' told me not ter worry. If I fit inter a house other than Slytherin, I'll end up there, they said,' Draco whispered back with a pained smile. He was just as excited and nervous as Harry was, which didn't help Harry to calm his nerves.

He looked around furtively and realised that many others looked just as pale and terrified, only a few seemed completely calm. He surmised that they knew what they were in for, but Harry couldn't just push his way over to them and casually ask how the sorting worked.

And while Harry was thinking about how he could hardly change places in this crowded chamber, a young girl with long, dark brown hair, brown eyes and a cheeky grin on her face did just that.

'Hey, Drake!' she whispered, pushing her way between Harry and Draco.

'Parks, was wondering where you were,' Draco mumbled back as quietly as possible. Then he nodded his chin at Harry. 'This's Harry. Harry, this's Pansy Parkinson.'

She turned to him and beamed. 'Hey, at last! Did Drake tell you 'bout me?'

Harry made an apologetic face. 'He hasn't got round to it yet.'

She hissed angrily at Draco. 'You didn't tell him 'bout your best friend?'

Draco's cheeks coloured pink with embarrassment. 'Not quite true!'

But he was saved in the form of a crowd of ghosts, who suddenly marched through the wall and were engrossed in a discussion. The first-years were scared to death. One ghost, who looked like a fat monk, turned his attention to the pupils when he noticed them and wished them good luck. Professor McGonagall returned shortly afterwards.

'The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now form a line and follow me,' she said with a sharp voice.

On shaky knees, Harry sorted himself in between Pansy and Draco, and together they all left the chamber. They marched back through the entrance hall and then through the now open double doors to the Great Hall.

What Harry saw there was beyond his wildest imagination. The hall was lit by thousands upon thousands of candles, floating freely in the air above four long tables, where the rest of the students were already sitting expectantly. At the front of the hall was another long table where the teachers sat.

When they reached the front, Harry turned his gaze upwards, mainly to escape the countless pairs of eyes that eyed him and the other first-years curiously. Above him was a velvety black, star-studded sky.

He heard Hermione whisper, 'It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.'

In the meantime, Professor McGonagall had put down a stool. She placed a pointed wizard's hat on the stool itself. It was patched, frayed and rather dirty.

Harry was thinking that perhaps they should conjure a rabbit out of the hat when he realised that everyone was staring at it intently. There was dead silence for a few seconds, then the hat twitched. A crack near the brim opened like a mouth – and the hat began to sing.

He sang about being able to see into their minds and about the attributes of the four houses.

Gryffindor favoured brave students who stopped at nothing. Hufflepuff loyal, hard-working and fair companions. Ravenclaw valued wisdom and curiosity, and in Slytherin you can frind true friends, but they were a cunning folk, willing to do anything to achieve their goals.

When the song ended, the hall burst into loud applause.

'What, we just have to put on an old floppy hat?' Pansy whispered energetically to Draco and Harry. 'An' our parents couldn't tell us that?! Can't wait ter tell my mum what I think 'bout her silly mystery-mongering!'

Harry smiled weakly at Pansy's whispered outburst of anger. Just putting on the hat sounded feasible to him. He had been afraid of having to do magic in front of the whole school. However, he would prefer it if he could put the hat on alone, without anyone watching him.

He thought again about the attributes of the four houses and didn't feel brave, clever or loyal, let alone cunning. If there was a house whose attribute was to feel queasy – that would be the house for him.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unfurled a long piece of parchment.

'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' she said.

'Abbott, Hannah!'

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause –

'HUFFLEPUFF!' shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

One by one, students were called up and sorted into their houses. Harry felt worse by the second. He had to think about school sports and how he was always called up last. Not because he was bad at sports, but because no one wanted to give Dudley the impression that they liked Harry.

He noticed that the hat sometimes called out the house immediately, but took a little longer with other students. Seamus Finnigan sat in the chair for almost a full minute until the hat sent him to Gryffindor.

'Granger, Hermione!'

She literally ran to the chair and eagerly pulled the hat over her head. Hermione was one of the students where the hat took the longest. She sat in the chair for a whole four minutes, the hall gradually becoming nervous and whispering as the hat finally announced loudly, 'RAVENCLAW!'

Draco grinned smugly at Harry. His plan had worked, now he just had to make sure he didn't end up in Ravenclaw himself.

Harry smiled in agony, he had other things to worry about at the moment. A terrible thought had occurred to him: what if he put the hat on and waited and waited, but nothing happened until Professor McGonagall yanked the hat off his head and announced that there must have been a mistake and he would have to be sent back to the Dursleys.

Neville Longbottom was called, almost lying down lengthways on his way to the chair. The hat took a long time until it finally announced: 'HUFFLEPUFF!'

With the hat still on, Neville was about to rush to the appropriate table when he was called back and embarrassedly handed the hat to Morag MacDougal.

After Morag (she came to Ravenclaw), it was Draco Malfoy's turn. Pale as a bedsheet, he crept forwards, sat down and the hat slipped over his eyes.

Time passed, the minutes ticked by. One minute passed, two minutes, three minutes, four minutes … Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows expectantly, and after five minutes, which must have felt like an eternity to Draco, the hat finally called out: 'GRYFFINDOR!'

The table on the far left erupted in cheers, Draco grinned with relief but also pride at Harry and Pansy and made his way to the Gryffindor table on wobbly knees. Pansy beamed and gave him a thumbs-up.

There weren't many students left now. Then it was Pansy Parkinson's turn.

'Wish me luck!' she whispered excitedly to Harry and strutted forwards.

However, the hat's decision was much quicker for her than for Draco.

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Pansy threw her fists in the air in jubilation and hurried over to Draco, who made room for her with pink cheeks and patted her on the back as she dropped down beside him.

Harry was now sick to his stomach. Draco was his only friend, Pansy seemed to be a good soul as well, and the idea of having to start from scratch in another house let bile rose in Harry's throat.

'Potter, Harry!'

He stepped forward, loud whispers rose in the hall, Draco and Pansy watched him intently.

'Potter, did she say?'

'The Harry Potter?'

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat.

'Hmm,' said a small voice in his ear. 'Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting … So where shall I put you?'

Harry grapped the edges of the stool and thought, 'Gryffindor, I want to go to Gryffindor!' His mind wandered to Draco and Pansy, all he wanted was to be with his new friends – now that he finally had some!

'Gryffindor, eh?', said the small voice. 'Are you sure? You could be great in Slytherin, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!' the hat shouted the last word loudly into the Great Hall.

Harry shakily pulled the hat off and walked to the Gryffindor table with weak knees. He was so relieved to have been assigned to a house, and the one where his new friends were, that he didn't even realise that he was getting the loudest applause.

Pansy had moved up so that Harry could sit between her and Draco, both grinning like a Cheshire Cat and congratulating him loudly like the rest of the table.

An older student, wearing the same badge on his chest as Percy Weasley, shook Harry's hand, grinning broadly. 'Dandelion Greengrass, everyone calls me Danny, Gryffindor's Prefect! Welcome, Potter! Welcome!' He had short, slightly curly dark blonde hair, kind brown eyes and a well-proportioned face.

Harry's gaze drifted to the Slytherin table, and he noticed that Ron's older brothers were all part of this house. The twins Fred and George were booing loudly, Percy shook his head disapprovingly and scowled.

He turned away from the Slytherins and looked towards the teachers' table, recognising Hagrid, who gave him a thumbs-up – Harry grinned back. There, in the centre of the table on a large, golden chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry also recognised Professor Quirrell, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He looked very peculiar, with his large purple turban.

Only three students were left to be sorted. Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw, and finally it was Ron Weasley's turn.

To Harry's amusement, he was also rather nervous and pale as he stumbled forward to put on his hat. He hoped fervently that Ron didn't become a Gryffindor, to his relief the hat announced 'SLYTHERIN!' in no time at all.

Fred and George cheered loudly, Percy nodded contentedly and shook Ron's hand, saying that he was very proud of his little brother.

Blaise Zabini also became a Slytherin and trotted leisurely to the Weasleys.

Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and cleared away the chair and the Sorting Hat.

Harry felt his stomach growl; the pumpkin pasties he had eaten on the train seemed like an eternity ago.

Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

'Thank you!'

He sat down again and everyone clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, but Draco grinned widely and Pansy whispered to Harry, 'Best man, Harry. Best man!'

'Is he – a bit mad?' he asked Danny uncertainly.

'Mad?' he said. 'What does mad actually mean, hm? He's a genius, without a doubt. Geniuses are usually a bit nuts, it goes hand in hand. Potatoes, Harry?'

Harry's jaw dropped. The plates in front of him were suddenly filled with food. He had never seen so many things on one table that he would like to eat: roast beef, roast chicken, pork and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, potatoes, chips and so on and so forth. The most curious thing, however, was the mint humbugs and even more curious was the fact that Draco grabbed a handful of them.

'Really?' Harry blurted out.

Draco shrugged. 'I love mint, okay? And you don't have ter eat it,' he said cheerfully and put the sweets down next to his plate.

'He would've gone ter Slytherin if there was a lifetime supply of mint –'

But Pansy's teasing was interrupted by Draco snarling and flicking a mint humbug at her forehead.

'Hey, cut it out, Draco!' Danny warned, but Harry could see that he was trying to hold back a grin.

Harry put everything he liked on his plate. The Dursleys didn't exactly starve him, but they never let him eat what he really liked, especially Dudley.

'This really is amazing, don't you think?' Harry said to Draco and took a big bite of lamb chops.

Draco grumbled. 'Yeah, it's quite okay.'

'Quite okay?!' Harry looked at his friend in astonishment. What else did Draco Malfoy eat if this could only pass for Okay?

Draco shrugged. 'Well, that it's okay. I've eaten better, but it ain't bad.'

When he realised that Harry was looking at him with wide eyes, he raised an eyebrow. 'What?'

Pansy nudged Harry with her elbow. 'Didn't he tell yeh that his folk has money like hay?'

'I did but more civilised!' snorted Draco, eyeing a knuckle of lamb critically.

'I see,' Harry said slowly and had a vague idea of what Draco meant by good food. Pansy, however, seemed completely pleased. The cutlery lay forgotten beside her plate, and she ate her meat and chips with her bare hands. Draco watched her out of the corner of his eye and wrinkled his nose.

Afterwards, Nearly Headless Nick, house ghost of Gryffindor, introduced himself and moaned because the house cup had now gone to Slytherin six years in a row. Harry glanced at the Slytherins again. A gaunt ghost with blood-splattered clothes sat next to Ron, who, Harry realised with satisfaction, didn't seem very happy about the seating arrangements.

'Why's that bloke covered in blood?' asked Pansy curiously.

'I never asked,' Nick replied delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the food disappeared and the plates and platters were as clean as before. A moment later, pudding, blocks of ice cream in every flavour imaginable, apple pie and more appeared.

Harry helped himself a piece of treacle tart as the conversation around the table turned to their families.

'I'm half and half,' said Seamus. 'Me dad's a muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him.'

'Dean was yer name, wasn' it? What about yer parents?' Draco asked.

'My mum's a muggle. My dad – no clue. He left when I was a baby. We don't know,' Dean said, shrugging.

Harry looked curiously at Pansy. 'Since Draco never really introduced you –'

'Right!' she exclaimed, slapping Draco on the back of his head.

'Ow!'

'What d'you wanna know, Harry?'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't know, tell me what you want to talk about.'

She thought for a moment. 'Hm. Draco and I've known each other for ... ever, I'd say. Our parents have been friends for ages. We grew up a bit like siblings. We've always visited each other.'

'What do your parents do?'

'My mum works at the Daily Prophet as a journalist, dad's a healer in Saint Mungo's. Healers are like Muggle doctors, but better. Much better. When I think about how that Muggle boy with the plaster cast had to walk around the village …'

'Right, Draco said that you always went to the village,' Harry remembered.

Pansy nods. 'Yep, we made friends with the Muggle kids. That was great fun! I learnt how ter ride a bike!'

'You rode into a ditch an' never touched it again,' Draco interrupted her, grinning broadly.

Pansy lifted her chin. 'I lasted five minutes, I count that as a win. You didn't even dare ter get on it!'

Pansy and Draco then had a little tussle and reminisced.

Harry leant back, sleepy and content, as his gaze wandered to the teachers' table again and his eyes lingered on a sallow-faced teacher with greasy black hair and a hooked nose.

It happened very quickly, the hook-nosed teacher turned his black eyes on Harry – and a hot, sharp pain shot through his lightning-shaped scar.

'Ouch!' Harry smacked his hand against his forehead.

'What's wrong?' asked Draco worried, who was sucking on a mint humbug.

'N-nothing!'

The pain was gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off, however, was the look this teacher had given him – Harry had the feeling that the man couldn't stand him.

'Who's the teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?' Harry asked Danny.

'Ah, so you already know Quirrell. The teacher next to him is Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but everyone knows he's after Defence Against the Dark Arts. I reckon he knows an awful lot about the Dark arts.'

Harry kept an eye on Snape for a while, but he didn't look at Harry again.

Finally, the desserts disappeared and Dumbledore stood up again. 'Well, a few more words, now that we're all well fed and watered.

'First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.'

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed to the Weasley twins, the twins grinned viciously.

'Mr Filch, our caretaker, has also asked me to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

'Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

'And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

'He's not serious?' he muttered to Danny.

'I'd say he is,' said Danny, grinning wryly. 'He usually tells us what's going to kill us. The forest's full of murderous beasts, everyone knows that. The least he could have done is tell us Prefects what's wrong with the third-floor.'

'And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!' shouted Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

The song had rather funny lyrics and there was a cacophony of sound in the hall as everyone was asked to sing in their favourite tune. The Weasley twins performed the song as a funeral march. Then they were sent to bed.

The Gryffindor first-years followed Danny through the chattering crowd, out of the Great Hall and up a grand white marble staircase. Harry's legs were leaden, but this time because he was so tired and full of food. He was so sleepy that it didn't even surprise him that the people in the portraits were moving and talking. They climbed more and more stairs, yawning and shuffling; Harry was wondering how much further up there was to go when they all stopped suddenly.

A pair of walking sticks hovered in the air above them, and when Danny took a step towards them, the sticks came crashing down on him.

'May I introduce you? Peeves,' Danny explained to the first-years. 'A poltergeist.' He raised his voice. 'Peeves, old chap. Where are you?'

A loud farting noise sounded.

'Well, well, not in front of the first-years, we've been through this,' Danny said mildly.

With a plop, a small man appeared, with wicked eyes and a wide mouth. Cross-legged, he hovered in the air above them, clutching the walking sticks.

'Oooooh!' he said, giggling maliciously. 'Ickle firsties! What fun!'

He swooped suddnely at them. They all ducked.

'Give it a rest, Peeves. Or do I have to let the Bloody Baron know?' said Danny calmly.

Peeves stuck his tongue out at him and disappeared, dropping the walking sticks on Cole Spencer's head.

'You'd better stay away from Peeves,' Danny said as they started moving again. 'The Bloody Baron's the only one who has him under control. He doesn't listen to anyone else. And here we are.'

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very corpulent woman, dressed in a pink silk dress.

'Password?' she asked.

'Caput Draconis,' Danny said, the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.

They all squeezed through – Draco got stuck and nearly fell, Pansy laughed out loud at him, he punched her angrily afterwards – and they all found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. It was a cosy, round room, full of squashy armchairs.

Danny showed the girls and boys the way to their separate dormitories. The way there was a spiral staircase – obviously Gryffindor house was in one of the towers of the castle.

Once in the dormitory, Harry saw five four-poster beds with deep-red velvet curtains. Their luggage had already been taken upstairs. Too tired to talk much, they slipped into their pyjamas and fell into bed.

'Not Slytherin … When my parents'll hear this …' Draco muttered and smiled wanly. 'Ah, Trjegul. Yeah, yeh can sleep on my bed. No, don't claw inter the duvet, how many times do I have ter tell yeh?!'

Harry wanted to ask Draco if his treacle tart at home tasted better than the one at Hogwarts, but his eyes instantly fell shut.

Perhaps Harry had eaten too much, because he had a very strange dream about Quirrell's turban telling him he had to transfer to Slytherin, and Draco telling him they had both made a mistake and had to do what the turban told them. Then there was a lot of green light, Harry woke up shaking and sweating.

He rolled over and went back to sleep, and when he woke up the next morning, he didn't remember the dream at all.