3 {Year 1} Chapter 3: The Sorting Ceremony

The door swung opened and a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes stood there. The woman had a very stern face.

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

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

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was lit with flaming torches on the stone walls like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

The first years followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. They can hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right—the rest of the school must already be here—Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. The first years crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "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. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house 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 honor. 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."

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

She then left the chamber.

The first years started to talk among themselves.

Draco yawned as he watches the others worrying and wondering about the sorting ceremony.

"Well, you ending up in Hufflepuff would be because of your...unyielding sense of justice." Pansy told Blaise mockingly.

"If that's the case, then you'll end up in Gryffindor for your recklessness!" Pansy gave him a disgusted look.

"So if you guys might end up in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, then what house do you think I'll end up in if it's not Slytherin?" asked Draco.

"Ravenclaw." Pansy and Blaise answered at the same time.

"Ha...really."

"Your basically a genius. If you don't end up in Slytherin, you'll be in Ravenclaw." Blaise said seriously, Pansy laughed.

About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance—"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost—I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now form a line and follow me." The stern looking witch told the first years.

Professor McGonagall led first years out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was lit with thousands of candles that were floating over four long tables. The other students had already sat down at their table. The four tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

Professor McGonagall led the first years up to where the teachers were sitting and made them form a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Draco looked at everything, it was all like what he had expected. He looked up and saw the bewitched ceiling, the fake ceiling has stars shining brightly in the black night sky, as if they were welcoming the first years' arrival.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. The old and patched Sorting Hat laid on top of the stool.

Draco stared straight at the hat. The Sorting Hat, a magical hat. It can read the mind of its wearer to a limit. Draco don't have much concern about it. The hat will not expose anything about him to others, he's sure of it.

There was no witch or wizard in history that the hat spilled secrets of. The hat did not even spilled the secrets of that Tom Riddle—now known as the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

After a few silent seconds, the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth.

The hat began 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 Hufflepuffis 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 folk 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 bursts into applause as the hat finished its song. The hat then bowed to each of the four tables be forming becoming still like a regular old hat again.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll 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.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat after a moment's pause.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot...but then he remembered the boy from Madam Malkin's. The boy doesn't seem bad...a bit strange but not bad.

The boy had said that he would most likely be in Slytherin. Ron had said that the boy's family serve Vol—You-Know-Who, but Harry just don't really think so. The boy doesn't really seem like a snob like Ron mentioned either...

As Harry continue to watch, he started to feel sick. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.

"Finnigan, Seamus"

The sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville.

When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Then it's the blonde boy—Malfoy's turn.

"Malfoy, Draco."

The hall went silent, then came small whispers.

Harry had to strain his ears to hear what they were whispering about, as they were whispering very quietly.

"Malfoy?"

"Is he 'that' Malfoy?"

"He definitely is! I seen his father before, and he looks like a more tiny version of him."

"Although he looks like his father quite a bit—their definitely not the same."

"His parents hid him for quite a while! The Wizarding World didn't even know of the Malfoys' child until he was five!"

"Yes! And even then, they rarely go out with the child."

"I heard that they even made him go out with a disguise! Those are overprotective parents right there."

Harry look over at Malfoy. The pale blonde seems unbothered by the whispers.

Malfoy walked toward the stool at an even pace, sat on the stool, put the hat on his head, and waited.

"My! This is..." The voice of the Sorting Hat rang in Draco's mind.

'Just put me in Slytherin already.'

"Yes, yes. Slytherin would be an excellent match, but are you sure you don't want to be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor? You also have great charm, so Hufflepuff would be fine as well."

'I have one goal in mind right now. And that is to get in Slytherin. You can see that my ambition is great.'

"Ah...then before I announce it, may I ask you—this is out of curiosity—what is it you seek?"

Draco smirked slightly, whispers then turn to debating about whether he had actually smirked or why he had smirked.

'Get though all of this, and live a satisfying life.'

"A nice dream. Well, I shall send you off now. Let's now welcome a new SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was spoken out loud. The Slytherin table bursted into cheers.

However, it had taken Draco about a minute to be sorted. Everyone will probably had some doubts, but not right now. Their all too drunken up in the excitement of the ceremony.

"Parkinson, Pansy." Harry recognized the girl. She was the one that had started the commotion on the train. She also seem to be a friend of Malfoy.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The hat had only be on her head for about five seconds before it announced the house. Parkinson laughed in glee. On her way to the Slytherin table, she stick her tongue out at a dark-skinned boy at the end of the line. The boy gave her a glare in return. Parkinson then sat down next to Malfoy at the Slytherin table.

Soon, Professor McGonagall called his name.

"Potter, Harry."

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out again. The pressure is on par with what Draco had faced earlier.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

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

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

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

The Slytherins seem like an unpleasant lot, not to mention that Vol—You-Know-Who was in Slytherin. Harry don't want to get mixed up with them. Malfoy doesn't seem like a lot like the other Slytherins though, maybe that's why he was on the stool for about as long as Neville Longbottom?

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that—no? That's interesting. There was just another one who has a lot of every houses' traits, but he was quite determined to get in Slytherin. You on the other hand—or should I say other side, refuse to be in Slytherin. Well, if you're sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!"

'What? Someone who was fit for all the houses, but really wanted to be Slytherin?'

Harry thought as he heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, but he also had his mind around the person who wanted to be in Slytherin and rejected the choice of going to the other houses. With so much on his mind, Harry hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

There were only four people left to be sorted now.

"Thomas, Dean."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent!" said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as the dark-skinned boy who glared at Parkinson was made a Slytherin.

"Zabini, Blaise."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet from his large gold chair at the High Table. 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," the old man 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.

"He isn't like what I thought he would be like." said Pansy.

"What did you expected him to be like?" Blaise asked her.

"Wise. Old. You know."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is considered to be the greatest wizard of modern times. He is also the headmaster of Hogwarts, the best British magic school. Being such a famous figure, he would want to maintain a good image, especially to the students. He probably acted silly as a move to seem more friendly so students would become more relaxed around him. Although that's a good idea, he will be despise by those who disapproves of that kind of behavior." Draco rambled on half unconsciously as he looked at the food on the table.

"Then what he did make sense then." Pansy realized.

"Anyway, enough talking about that silly speech. There's good food right in front of you, so dig in!" Blaise rolled his eyes as he grabbed some roasted chicken and salad.

Pansy and Blaise both began to stuff their face with the food. Draco, however, just picked up a fork and poke at the food reluctantly.

"Are ya not gonna ee?" Pansy asked with a mouthful of potatoes.

Draco gave her a small smile, "I am. I'm just craving some other kind of food." He stabbed a piece of steak and put it in his mouth.

He had grown used to the food here, but he still kind of miss Chinese cuisine. The steak isn't bad though, it has became one of his favorite food here.

*Chinese cuisine as in authentic food that people in China eat, not the Americanized Chinese food in American Chinese restaurants. (No offense)

"How is the food?" the Bloody Baron asked him.

"It's not bad, but it's not overwhelmingly good either." Draco answered absentmindedly.

Soon, the plates became empty, then the desserts appeared.

Draco decided to try some of the vanilla ice cream and a chocolate eclair. Pansy scrambled around, trying at least a bit of each. Blaise choose the treacle tarts and jam doughnuts.

When the desserts disappeared, 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.

"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 student laughed nervously, including Harry.

"I wonder why...how about we go..." muttered Pansy.

"No Pansy." Draco sighed.

"Fine..."

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

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick 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!"

"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 first years followed the prefects of their respective house out of the Great Hall to their house dormitory.

"Agh. That was horrible. I seriously need to get some ear plugs for future years." Pansy groaned.

Blaise nodded his head seriously, agreeing with Pansy. Draco just yawned.