The Sorting Ceremony

Beyond the doors we see a huge room, absolutely massive. Four extremely long tables stretch from the area near us towards the far wall, nearly half the length of a football field! Lit candles float above us, held aloft by nothing but magic. And the ceiling is…not even there. Instead, when I look up I see the night sky, the stars sparkling clearer than I've ever seen.

As we walk forward, I manage to drag my attention back down. A closer look at the four tables reveals that each of them has a different colored sigil on their robes. Red, blue, yellow, and green. Given the obvious hints, I'm guessing that each color is representative of each of the houses. Apparently the school segregates the houses from each other. Whether to foster a healthy competition or for a more nefarious reason remains to be seen.

At the far end of the room, the hall really, lies a table at which the teachers sit. There's the guy we met at the bar, Quail, I think his name was. Next to him is a pale man with greasy hair and a hooked nose. He glares at us as we make our way towards them, scowling. On the other end of the table is an extremely short man with a neatly styled mustache and glasses. Maybe he's a dwarf.

Next to him is a woman with curly gray hair in shapeless brown robes. Seeing her I feel a sudden urge to sneeze.

At the center of the table though, is who I assume is the icon of the school. An old man in dark purple robes. He has long white hair that matches his equally long white beard. Not gray, but white like snow. A stereotypical wizard, like people raised among muggles would expect to see!

I nod in approval as our mob comes to a stop. In front of us is an old hat resting upon a plain wooden stool.

All of us stare at it, confused. I can hear the students at the tables snickering at us, but whatever the deal is I can't figure it out. I can't even sense any magic-

Suddenly, a long tear appears just above the rim of the hat, slowly growing bigger. Then just as suddenly it closes. We all stare, mouths agape. Then the hat opens its mouth again.

And it begins 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 then 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 Hufflepuffs 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,

Where you'll meet 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 a thinking cap."

There's silence for a moment, then the hall erupts into applause at the hat's performance. I swear I see it bend over in a minuscule bow. But my mind is in too much turmoil to properly appreciate it.

'Why couldn't I sense any magic from it? Is it not an enchanted item? Is it actually alive? But no, I can see the needle marks from where it's been repaired before. And I don't think any person capable of speaking would be willing to be caked in so much dirt. But then what is it? And why can't I sense any magic coming off of it?'

Questions flood my mind, but there are no answers to find. Maybe after the ceremony I can find where it rests and…ask it some questions. In private.

Professor McGonagall speaks after the crowd quiets down. When I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head. And you will be sorted into your houses."

She calls a name, and a plain looking boy with black hair walks up. She places the hat on his head and it shouts, "Ravenclaw!" She removes it and the boy goes to the table with people who have blue sigils.

As Professor McGonagall goes through the list of names, I make my way towards where Harry and Ron are standing. Names are called, and I place houses to colors. Gryffindors are red, Ravenclaws are blue, Hufflepuffs are yellow, and Slytherins are green. Names seem to be called by last name so I'm guessing that Harry and I will be among the last. But the first name to come up that I'm actually interested in is Hermione.

She mutters to herself as she goes up, and I can see that she's nervous. "Mental that one, I'm telling ya." I glare at Ron, tempted to smack the back of his head. But I don't want to cause a scene so I hold off for the moment. But I'll remember this for later.

The hat sits on Hermione's head for a moment, seemingly unsure of where to put her. This is the longest it's taken so far, even though it's only a few seconds. "Gryffindor!" shouts the hat. With a sigh of relief, Hermione makes her way to the Gryffindor table.

Eventually it's Draco's turn. The hat barely grazes his head before it shouts out for Slytherin. With a smug grin, he makes his way to the table. "There's not a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin." The temptation grows stronger.

Suddenly Harry makes a pained sound and starts rubbing his forehead. He's staring at the greasy looking teacher, who seems to have been watching him as well. But seeing Harry rub his head, he glances at Quail, who's facing the wall for some reason, his turban facing the crowd.

I narrow my eyes as I regard the two of them. Both seem suspicious, I mean, come on. Why is Quail facing the wall when he's at the opening ceremony? That raises a ton of flags right off the bat. The other guy honestly just gives off a suspicious vibe.

Putting that on my 'to do list', my attention is immediately caught by the next person to be called. Clarity Insania. She goes up, her face cold to anyone else. But I can see how nervous she is, hiding it behind a mask of indifference. The hat goes down, and we wait. It takes half a minute, far longer than anyone else before it shouts.

"Hufflepuff!"

I cheer along with the Hufflepuffs as she takes her seat, while Harry claps. The remaining students who haven't been sorted yet give us strange looks, including Ron, but we ignore them. This moment is about Clarity.

"Ronald Weasley." He goes up, visibly swallowing his nerves. Right after the hat is placed on his head, it speaks. But not of his house.

"Hah, another Weasley. I know just what to do with you. Gryffindor!" With a sigh of relief, he exchanges smiles with Harry and leaves. Though I am confused about why he was called now instead of with the other 'w's'.

I decide to ignore that for the moment, as the next one called up is Harry. He goes up as a quiet goes through the hall. The teachers lean forwards as the students start murmuring. Professor McGonagall puts the hat on, and silence reigns as everyone waits for the verdict.

A minute goes by. Then two. Then I see Harry's lips move. Then…

"Better be, Gryffindor!"

The cheers from the Gryffindor table are enough to fill the hall, more than making up for the quiet of the other houses. The old man at the teacher's table sits back with a satisfied smirk.

Then my name is called. "Misha Potter."

The quiet when Harry's name was called could be described as awe filled. The silence now is shock filled. As I approach the stoll murmuring breaks out not just among the students, but also a few of the faculty.

"Who…"

"A sister?"

"...not known…"

I ignore it all, taking my seat as I wait for Professor McGonagall to place the hat on my head. My eye just happens to catch Draco's open mouthed stare, and I smirk. Then the hat drops.

It shouts immediately. "Slytherin! Now get me off of her! My eyes! My nonexistent eyes! Someone get me an Obliviate! Or better yet some mind bleach!" By instinct, Professor McGonagall snatches up the hat while everyone stares at me in confused silence. Everyone.

Ignoring the stares and the groaning hat, I take my seat at the Slytherin table, next to Draco. He gives an uncertain cheer, it half-dying on his lips. But it's enough.

It's taken up by everyone, even the other houses. It's forced, as if they're trying to forget the strange occurrence that just happened.

And through it all, I grin.

'It seems like things are going to be even more interesting than I thought they would be.'