Chapter 057

"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," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry found himself getting in line and following the stern professor with Tracey directly behind him, followed by Daphne and then Blaise. In front of him was a girl with dark red hair and a few freckles he had yet to meet.

Feeling more nervous than he allowed anyone else to see, Harry remained silent as he walked out of the small chamber, across the hall, and through a set of large double doors.

The chamber Harry found himself was large, very large. He couldn't begin estimating its size, but it had to be at least three times larger than the entrance hall in length and width if not height. A sea of candles floating in mid air illuminated the room, casting light and shadows along the many hundreds of faces within. There were five tables laid out in the room; four long tables running parallel from each other where all of the students sat, and one table near the bac where Harry could see the teacher's conversing with each other.

It was not hard for him to determine that the four tables were the dividing barriers between houses. He could see the variations in house colors on the students' robes. Gryffindor in their gold and red splendor at the far right near the windows, followed by the bright yellow and dark black Hufflepuffs to their direct left. Ravenclaw came next in with their regal bronze and blue coloration, and on the direct opposite of where the Gryffindors sat were the Slytherins, marked by the dark green and silver colors lining their robes.

Taking a glance up, Harry caught his first glimpse of the magnificent ceiling he had read about. According to Hogwarts, A History, the ceiling had a powerful enchantment designed by Rowena Ravenclaw herself to look exactly like the sky outside. Currently, it was dark save for the hundreds of twinkling stars that filled the velvety night sky.

As Harry lined up with the other first years, his mind began to run wild. He wasn't nervous about the Sorting, but rather, if he would be able to live up to the expectations that he had placed upon himself. Could he truly become the greatest wizard in the world? Would the many students peering at him and the other first years, and those he stood next to, look up to him as one of those people who became a great leader that accomplished great things?

For a moment, thoughts of failure pressed against his mind. What if he didn't accomplish his dreams? What if he ended up leading a life of mediocrity? How would he ever be able to face his parents when he past on? How would he even look them in the eye?

He squashed those thoughts immediately and took a few slow, deep breaths. It would not do to dwell on 'what ifs,' especially when they had yet to happen. He couldn't allow himself to be clouded by doubt. He would be the best, and he would make his parents proud. There was no room for failure.

Professor McGonagall soon placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, and atop of the stool she placed a hat. It was a very worn hat, raggedy and frayed. It looked old enough to have been around since the founders.

Harry stared at the hat with everyone else, wondering just how this would sort them into their houses. What enchantments did this old, worn looking piece of cloth possess?

He found out a moment later when, much to his great surprise, a tear opened near the brim like a mouth and 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!"

Harry clapped with the others, though his applause was for a very different reason than the other students. What an extraordinary piece of magic! He couldn't help but conjure up wild theories on how such a thing as a singing hat was possible. Perhaps it was some very advanced animation charm used to mimic human speech. Or could it be some kind of advanced combination of enchantments and runes? Maybe the Four Founders had even poured all their considerable talents and gave the hat sentience! The possibilities were endless!

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a parchment in hand, and Harry brought his mind back to the present. It looked like the Sorting was finally about to begin.