-CHAPTER FOUR-
-THE SORTING AWAITS-
James felt his heart skip a beat and his legs grow weak at the mention of the Sorting. He knew what the Sorting was and dreaded it. The Sorting Hat was created by each person from each House. James had read about it in a book and knew the names by the time he was six. There was Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. He would be forced to sit in front of the entire school, forced to wear an old Sorting and hope for the best. Uncle Ron had tried to tell him he had to wrestle a goblin to the ground before Ginny and Hermione had told him to shut up.
He exchanged a glance with Rodney, who looked pale but ready. The boy who had been in the boat with them had recovered most of his senses and stopped throwing up, and Penelope had a flicker of nervousness in her eyes.
Hagrid gave them one last encouraging grin. "Ah, good luck to yeh all, even you, Malfoy. Don' make Slughorn wish he'd never had yeh!" he said, before turning and knocking on the towering doors with a sound that echoed like thunder.
The massive doors swung open with a creak, showing a dimly lit chamber beyond. The room was vast and cold, with high stone walls that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. Torches flickered along the walls, and a polished stone floor reflected the golden flames, creating a strange glow.
But the room was empty. Nobody was there for them. No teachers were waiting to greet them, and there were no signs of life apart from their own hesitant footsteps echoing through the chamber. James glanced around, worried. James looked into the room, worried, but remained calm.
"Where is everyone?" Rodney asked and peered into the room. The room was so tiny, so the torchlight didn't need to be strong or many of them to cover the entire room.
"They're probably waiting for us in the Great Hall," Penelope said and glanced up at the tall ceiling. There was a small staircase that led to a viewing platform. The viewing platform was built, jutting outwards and had a stone railing going all the way around it. She adjusted her glasses and scanned the room. "This is the waiting area."
Hagrid stood by the door, holding it open as the last Hogwarts student came into the small room. "Professor McGonagall'll be 'long in a tick, she will," he said, forcing a student in the back of the House to jump. ""She'll tell yeh what happens next. Jus' wait 'ere an' behave yerselves, alright?"
Hagrid shut the door behind them. They waited another five to ten minutes until a door creaked open, and a woman stepped in front of the stone wall of the platform above the students. It was an elderly witch with a stern expression and a sharp gaze that seemed to look at each other even though she wasn't turning her head to glance at other people. James wondered how it was, and when she spoke in a thick Scottish accent, James guessed it was Professor McGonagall.
Her eyes swept over the group, silently judging them.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, and the crowd of students stood watching her. "You are about to be sorted into your homes. This is an important moment, as your House will be like your family during your time here. You will be rewarded for being a good student and lose points for being a bad student. Any rule will be a loss of points or detention in the Forbidden Forrest."
"There's werewolves in there?" Rodney croaked, and James wasn't sure if he was telling or asking her.
"There's a lot of things worse in the Forbidden Forrest as werewolves.
"So, remember, before you break a rule," Professor McGonagall said, and James thought a smile had crossed her face before she vanished. "House Points go to the House Cup at the end of the year. Slytherin has won it four years in a row."
Professor McGonagall was about to continue her speech when a ghostly figure swooped into view and appeared right in front of Rodney. The figure had a twisted and mischievous grin and wore a jester-like outfit that seemed to shimmer and shift in the dim light.
"BOO!" the ghost bellowed at Rodney and then blew a loud raspberry at him.
Rodney let out a loud and panicked scream, stumbling backwards into James, who barely managed to catch him. Several other first years gasped or jumped in alarm, while a few let out muffled laughs. Malfoy was one of them that laughed the most.
"Peeves!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "What are you doing here?"
Peeves whirled around to face Professor McGonagall, and his grin widened. "Oh, it's the stern old tabby cat!" he said in a sing-song voice, floating upside down and sticking his tongue out at her. "Just having a bit of fun with the little firsties. You know, to welcome them properly."
A red colour came onto McGonagall, and her lips thinned into a thin line.
"Peeves, you are not to interfere with the Sorting Ceremony at all," she said, jabbing a quill at him. "Leave. Now! Or I'll get the Bloody Baron on you."
Peeves looked terrified and vanished into the stonework while laughing.
"Who was that?"
"Peeves," James said. "The school's poltergeist. I think he came with Hogwarts, and nobody has found a way to get him out."
Rodney swallowed hard; his eyes widened.
"Pay no attention to Peeves; he's been winding up first years since Hogwarts was here. Do not let him trap you in a corner or be in the wrong place if he shows up."
The students nodded.
She straightened her robes and lifted her head. "Now, as I was saying, you will each be called forward to be sorted into one of the four Hogwarts houses, Gryffindor," she said. "That was my House. I was the Head of Gryffindor until Professor Longbottom came to teach at Hogwarts. There are four Heads of Houses. You have Hufflepuff, Professor Thistlewick Verdant. Professor Sprout will be sadly missed, but she decided to retire last year. Then there's Ravenclaw, Professor Selwyn Corvus, who will be teaching you Charms, and Professor Slughorn, who will be teaching you Potions and being the Head of Slytherin. Whatever House you end up in, treat it with respect."
Some of the students felt as if they could faint.
Professor McGonagall clapped her hands sharply. "Follow me," she said, lending the group of students up the staircase.
They came to the Entrance Hall, where a huge door led to the Great Hall. The room wasn't as empty as the last one but had a tall ceiling and seven wooden doors, with two of them being massive wooden doors that led to the outside and the Great Hall. James wondered what the other doors led to. There was a door in the corner of the room that looked more like a cupboard than anything else. Against the wall stood four hourglasses sat on four different stone platforms that were painted in four different colours and with an animal engraved on them. The hourglasses were completely empty now, but James could imagine them.
"These are for your House Points," Professor McGonagall said. "They work by magic. Once a Professor awards you a point, it is automatically filled into the hourglass and the House with the most wins. Good luck."
The towering doors to the Great Hall swung open with a low creak as Professor McGonagall stepped near it. The students followed her in, the black robes flapping at their feet. James caught the look of the Great Hall and would have passed out if it hadn't been for his father or mother telling him how beautiful it looked. It was larger and grander than anything James had ever imagined, even from the stories that his father had told him. The ceiling seemed to stretch endlessly upward, reflecting the night sky outside with its enchantment that mirrored the stars and the silver of moonlight. Hundreds of floating candles hovered in the air, casting a warm, golden glow over the long tables that stretched across the hall.
From the right side of the Great Hall to the left stood four house tables, and they were already lined with the students, all dressed in their respective house robes, their faces eager as they watched the new arrivals. Above each table, banners hung proudly, showing the emblems of the four houses. There was Gryffindor's roaring lion, Hufflepuff's gentle badger, Ravenclaw's soaring eagle and Slytherin's sleek serpent.
At the far end of the hall, in front of the four tables, the staff table was elevated on a platform. Professors in rich robes of varying colours saw the first years with kind, curious or stern expressions. James caught Professor Longbottom on the right side, plus a row of faces that he didn't know. James stopped looking around the Great Hall and found himself staring at the Sorting Hat that had been placed on an old wooden stool. The Sorting Hat twitched, its slit for a mouth almost curling, ready to speak, and a sudden hush fell over the Great Hall.
"Merlin," Rodney whispered, his voice trembling with a shocked look as he glanced around. "It's big."
"It's wonderful," Penelope muttered, her stern face softened by the size of the Great Hall and how it looked in the candlelight.
James nodded, barely able to speak. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could not stop his legs from shaking.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her voice echoing through the hall and forcing every student standing up in front of the Sorting Hat to watch her. "When I call your name, you will step forward, place the Sorting Hat on your head, and be sorted into your house," she said firmly. She held a scroll of parchment that floated in front of her face and never touched the ground.
James felt himself shaking as the first name was called. James watched the small man, with trembling hands, make his way to the stool. The hall was quiet as the Hat began to speak.
"I remember Sorting your mother and father, both brilliant," the Sorting Hat spoke in a rough voice, chuckling. "You'll go where they went. Hufflepuff."
The boy was no longer pale. He stood up from his seat, put the Sorting Hat back on the wooden stool, and rushed to the table under the yellow banners.
James watched as the Sorting Hat yawned.
"It must be tiring, doing this every year," Rodney said. He at once went quiet when the entire row of teachers swept the crowd with their eyes at the sudden noise. Penelope was about to shush him but stopped.
Professor McGonagall shouted again. "Malfoy, Scorpius."
The word Malfoy hit him like a ton of bricks, no matter how many times he heard it. He had grown up hearing about Draco Malfoy from his father and Uncle Ron, and he wondered if his son was anything like him. He had already insulted him, Rodney and Penelope within a minute of being off Hogwarts Express. Uncle Ron said to him one day, "A Malfoy never changes," and his father said, "If you're at Hogwarts with Malfoy's son, watch out for him."
Scorpius sat down, and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. The Sorting Hat thought for a moment.
"Ah, another Malfoy? I remember your dad didn't even put the Hat on to tell him his House, but you're not your father," the Hat said, whistling. You're ambitious and will do anything to get what you want. But there is something about you. You want to make your family proud but with your own name."
The Sorting Hat hummed.
"SLYTHERIN!" it suddenly shouted, and a smirk twitched at the corner of the Malfoy's mouth.
The Slytherin table erupted in cheers, clapping and shouting as Scorpius removed the Hat and strode toward his new House with a smug smirk on his face. He sat down, shaking hands with some of the older Slytherins.
"His whole family has been in Slytherin," James told Rodney with a quiet
Rodney nodded.
"Potter, James," Professor McGonagall said.
There was a ripple of whispering going from table to table; people were talking to the person next to them. James forced himself to take a step forward, then another, until he was walking steadily toward the Sorting Hat.
"Potter? Another Potter?" the Sorting Hat said before James had even put the Sorting Hat on him.
"Do you think he'll end up in Gryffindor?"
"His dad defeated You-Know-Who, didn't he?" another asked.
James ignored it and held his head high, trying to ignore the growing chatter. He reached the stool and sat down, his heart pounding. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat gently on his head, and everything went dark as the brim drooped over his eyes.
A voice spoke to him.
"Well, well," the Sorting Hat said, almost smiling. "Another Potter. I've been expecting this moment since your father left Hogwarts.
James trembled.
"Don't be afraid, Potter," the Sorting Hat said to him. "Your father was nervous as well and looked at what had happened to him. Became more famous than just the The-Boy-Who-Lived."
It thought for a moment. The Sorting Hat chuckled. "You're not father, you know?" it said, almost as if it had read his thoughts. "Oh, you have his courage and bravery. Loyal to those around you and those that are not even your friends. But there's something else, a knack for mischief and ambition, too. You could be in Slytherin as well.
James's stomach twisted, and he did not want to be in Slytherin. He shook at the thought of it. Not Slytherin."
"Your father said the same thing," the Sorting Hat mocked him. "He begged and pleaded with me."
"I don't want to be in Slytherin," James mouthed.
"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat
James hadn't even moved until the Sorting Hat snorted. He took the Sorting Hat off, placed it on the stool like the first boy did, and moved to the table. He sat on the table, where an empty seat was next and in front of him. He shoved his fingers under the table when Rodney's name was finally called out.
"Havisham, Rodney!" Professor McGonagall said.
Rodney squeaked and moved forward, tripping over his cloak and tumbling to the ground. He got up to the cheers and roars of laughter from the Slytherin table. The other tables remained silent. He sat on the stool, and the Sorting Hat began speaking.
"Nervous?" the Sorting Hat asked, and Rodney nodded with his eyes closed.
"Your father, I remember him."
"I never knew him," Rodney thought.
"Oh, I do know that, Rodney," it said quietly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone what he did," the Sorting Hat's slit for a mouth didn't move, but the words floated directly into Rodney's thoughts.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Rodney's face lit up, and they sighed as the Gryffindor table erupted in loud cheers. He hurried over, the Sorting Hat falling off his head and sat next to James.
"I'm in Gryffindor," Rodney said to James.
James clapped him on the back. "Good. Here's hoping Penelope gets into this House as well. Another Gryffindor shook Rodney and James's.
The Sorting continued, and soon enough, McGonagall called the next name.
"Nightdusk, Penelope!" Professor McGonagall said.
Penelope stepped forward, her back straight and her chin high. She climbed onto the stool, trembling.
"I always knew that your dad was going to be in the Ministry," the Sorting Hat. "Your mother, however, tragic what happened to her."
Penelope felt empathy from the Sorting Hat.
"Well, I know where to put you," the Sorting Hat said with a calm tone, its mouth grinning. "GRYFFINDOR."
Penelope made her way over to the Gryinffdor table, her face carefully neutral. As she sat down across from James and Rodney, the table cheered loudly and welcomed her warmly.
Rodney leaned in with a grin. "See? I told you we'd all end up together."
Penelope smiled softly at Rodney. "It's a good start," she said simply, though there was a hint of happiness in her tone.
"We'll take the House Cup easy with us in this house," he said over the table, but not loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.
The Sorting continued.
"Bennet, Clara!" Professor McGonagall shouted as a small girl rushed to the stool, hoping to get it out of the way.
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaw table clapped as the shy girl with pigtails rushed over to the table.
"Fletcher, Hugo!" Professor McGonagall said.
The boy with flaming red hair went to the stool.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat shouted.
The boy with the flaming red skipped to the Hufflepuff and was welcomed
at once.
"Duskbane, Morgana," Professor McGonagall and the paper started rolling up by itself.
The Slytherin table clapped politely as a tall girl with sharp features bounced confidently to the table. The last person that was sorted was a boy named "Zellar, Max," who was sorted into Hufflepuff, and the piece of parchment that floated in front of Professor McGonagall vanished in the air.
The Sorting Hat closed its mouth, fell asleep and was taken away. Professor McGonagall stepped forward again. "Congregations to all of you on being sorted into your houses," she said, smiling. "You are now part of the rich tradition of Hogwarts, and I trust you will do your houses proud."
The Headmaster stepped forward, grinning. "My name is Ellery Stormquill," he said. There was a laugh from the Slytherin table. His eyes swept the table, seeing everyone's mouth tightly shut. James knew that Malfoy had laughed. "I started teaching in Hogwarts in 1999, a year after the Battle of Hogwarts and I took over as Defence Against the Dark Arts, a job no longer cursed by Lord Voldemort. I became Headmaster in 2010 when our wonderful Professor McGonagall stepped down as headmistress. I welcome you all to Hogwarts, and may your future come true."
"I bet Dumbledore gave some amazing speeches," Penelope said.
James nodded.
"Dad said they were funny but strange," James said."
"Enjoy the feast," Professor Stormquill said and waved his hands. "Eat as much as you want.
When he finished speaking, the gleaming plates of the house tables were filled with food out of nowhere. Platters of roast chicken, bowls of steaming mashed potatoes, Yorkshire Puddings, parsnips, roast potatoes, pigs in blanket, pitchers of pumpkin juice and a row of colourful desserts appeared in front of him. Rodney's eyes darted everywhere.
"This is wonderful!" he exclaimed, grabbed a plate of sausages, and shoved them onto his plate.
James nodded, getting four Yorkshire Puddings, mashed potatoes, parsnips, pigs in blanket, roast potatoes, balls of stuffing and covered with thick gravy. "You rarely get gravy this thick where I live. Very northern."
"I heard they put gravy on everything, even fish and chips," Rodney said, wincing at the thought of it.
"That sounds disgusting," Penelope said, taking a plate of roast chicken and vegetables. She sprinkled some salt and pepper on the roast chicken and vegetables.
"I still can't get over the fact that we're at Hogwarts," Rodney said after swallowing his sausage. He wiped the napkin and brushed the dripping gravy from his mouth."
"Same," James said. He looked at the plate that Penelope was eating. "You not eating more?"
"I don't eat much," she explained. "If I eat a lot, I get sick easily."
"I would hate that," Rodney said, grabbing his plate to add some pork chops, lamb chops, some bacon, and carrots and peas.
James looked around the room and glanced up at the banner of the lion, proudly looking down at them.