9 Dinner

"HAT!"Exclaimed McGonagal.

"Don't you 'HAT!' me! You do not now the shit I am looking at!" Shot back the hat. "Kid, if you ever need help with that problem of yours, count me out! I just say a big fat 'NOPE' to that shit!"

The tables were roling on the floor laughting at the ridiculeness of the situation

"Hat!" The men I recognize as Dumbledoor from the chocolate frog cards interrupt the hat's cursing fit "Are you saying that you can't sort him?"

"No Albus, that is not the problem here, he is grifindor, I senced right away. Heck, he is more grifindor then grifindor himself!"

"Then put him on grifindor."

"That is not the problem here, the problem-!"

"Hat! your job is only to sort. If you wish to discuss private matters portraing a students' mind, you can do that in private"

"Y-you are right sir. I'm sorry kid."

"No problems." I say. "I was expecting something like that to happen."

"In your position I would too." Replied the hat"Oh well, GRIFINDOOR!"

I took off the hat and walked toward the Gryffindor table. I noticed that I was getting the loudest cheer yet. I sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff I'd seen earlier.

I could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest to me sat Hagrid, who caught my eye and gave me the thumbs up. I grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts .

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black and tall boy, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Smudged nose's turn(Ronnald Weasley) the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said a pompous boy across me.As "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

I looked down at my empty gold plate. I had only just realized how hungry I was. The pumpkin pasties and licorice wands seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "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 back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. I didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he a bit mad?" I asked poumpous boy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said him airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

my mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. I had never seen so many things I liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

I piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you eat?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years." said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've in troduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ronald suddenly. "My brothers told me about you, you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So, new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable, he's the Slytherin ghost."

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

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

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ronald.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced like ruber all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On my other side, Percy Weasley(the pompous boy) and Hermione were talking about lessons "I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult..."

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing...".

I, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. A professor in an absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair.

It happened very suddenly. The greasy haired teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into my eyes and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on my forehead.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling I had gotten from the teacher's look, a feeling that he didn't like me at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to the one in turban?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to, everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job, The one in turban is Quirrel, he teaches defence against the dark arts. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

I watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at me again.

.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern ,just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on 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 in the direction of the Weasley twins Fred and George, who seemed happy about it for some reason.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the 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."

A few students laughed.

"Is he serious?" I muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere, the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

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

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

　　"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

　　Teach us something please,

　　Whether we be old and bald

　　Or young with scabby knees,

　　Our heads could do with filling

　　With some interesting stuff,

　　For now they're bare and full of air,

　　Dead flies and bits of fluff,

　　So teach us things worth knowing,

　　Bring back what we've forgot,

　　just do your best, we'll do the rest,

　　And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. My legs were like lead because I was so tired and full of food. I was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging our feet, and I was just wondering how much farther we had to go when we came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of us, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves, show yourself"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said. "Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it (Neville needed a leg up) and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squishy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase, we were obviously in one of the towers, I found beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. The trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, I pulled on my pajamas and fell into bed.