text stringlengths 0 57.5k |
|---|
It was all the strangeness and majesty of Hogwarts Castle's exterior expressed in one room. Four long tables, set in gold and silver, stretched the length of the hall, with black-robed students sitting at them on benches. A fifth table stood at the head of the Hall; the teachers and Hagrid sat at it in comfortable-look... |
And above the banners were the heavens. Harry could perceive the vague shapes of beams and joints and roof slats, but all of it seemed to be translucent like glass, and the Milky Way shone more brightly and clearly through it all than Harry had ever seen before. |
Hermione whispered, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." |
"I know," Harry whispered back to her. "I didn't expect it to be so beautiful." |
Harry's attention was drawn back to Earth when the chatter in the Great Hall died down. Professor McGonagall had led the first years to the head of the room, in front of the teachers" table, and set a wooden stool in front of the students. On top of that stool was a pointed wizard's hat so patched and frayed Harry thou... |
Then the hat sang. It sang and it called itself the Sorting Hat and it talked about the Houses and it instructed them to put it on to be Sorted and it ended its song with a horrible pun. |
And everyone applauded. |
"Maybe Dumbledore is normal for a wizard," Hermione murmured to Harry, her eyes wide. |
Soon, Professor McGonagall started reading names from a long roll of parchment. "Brown, Lavender" was the first person Harry recognized—she'd been in one of the compartments they'd visited during the Quest for the Lost Toad. It wasn't too long afterwards that "Granger, Hermione!" was called. |
She glanced at Harry uncertainly and he said, "Good luck!" She smiled, ran to the stool, and almost jammed it on her head. |
And then they waited. And waited. And waited. Hermione took much more time than any student before her had; Harry could not see her face, but she was leaning forward in much the way she had when they'd speculated about the process used to flavor Bertie Bott's earlier. |
Finally, much to Harry's surprise, the Hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione found a seat at the table with the red banners and waved to Harry, a very pleased smile on her face. |
"Longbottom, Neville!" was the next name Harry recognized. Neville tripped on his way to the stool, then sat upon it for nearly as long as Hermione, but unlike Hermione, he seemed to be almost in a panic as the Hat made its decision. The Hat called "GRYFFINDOR!" for him too, but he ran off still wearing it, and had to ... |
Hermione seemed to be keeping the other side open. Harry's worry about the Sorting only increased. It really wasn't going as he'd expected. |
Harry was slightly reassured to see Malfoy become a "SLYTHERIN!" Still, before he knew it, Professor McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry!" |
Whispers instantly broke out throughout the hall. |
"Potter, did she say?" |
"The Harry Potter?" |
"Does that mean Portia is here, too?" |
Reminding himself to look like he knew what he was doing, Harry took the Hat and sat upon the stool. As the Hat dropped down over his head, he got one last glimpse of a thousand people all trying to get one last glimpse of him. |
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. You have some of the traits I'm looking for in each House, but none of them are quite right..." |
Not Slytherin? Harry thought. |
"Oh, you have all the cunning a Slytherin could ever hope for," the Hat replied. "I can see it all here in your head—you could be great. You are powerful and intelligent and resourceful—but what do you want to do with all that?" |
Harry thought for a moment, and realized he didn't have an answer. |
"That's the problem, you see, ambition. Salazar would think this a tragic waste of potential." |
(And the Sorting Hat was pleased as it saw that the seed had been planted, for its duty was to guide each child to their full potential, and this boy could accomplish almost anything he set his mind to, if only it occurred to him to set his mind to anything at all.) |
"No, definitely not Slytherin House for you," the Hat continued."You are smart enough for Ravenclaw, but the true Ravenclaw sees knowledge as an end in itself, while you see it as a means. They're not the right choice, either." |
What about Gryffindor? Harry asked. |
"Gryffindor...well, chivalrous, yes, I can see that. You've been a white knight to many people in need. The real problem is bravery." |
I'm no coward! Harry thought. |
"No, you're something else entirely. Ever since you accidentally put a knife through your uncle's hand, you've been utterly fearless." |
Is that supposed to be a bad thing? |
"No, but it's not a Gryffindor thing. Bravery is not lack of fear; it's setting your fear aside to do what needs to be done. Your response to fear is untested. I have no way to tell if you're suitable to Gryffindor." |
Which leaves... Harry thought with dawning horror. |
"Yes, Hufflepuff," said the Hat. |
Oh, come on! I wouldn't fit in there at all! |
"Why not?" the Hat asked. "You are certainly hardworking—I've never seen a child work as hard as you with as little grumbling—and you are loyal to those who are loyal to you. In Hufflepuff you would be surrounded by trustworthy children, and your ability to be loyal would grow." |
But...but...I'm just not that kind of person! Harry thought. |
"I Sort each child to the House where they will grow to their greatest potential, not necessarily the House they most resemble at age eleven. Merlin knows half of the Gryffindor firsties need to finish growing their spines, and few of the Slytherins come into their own as plotters before Fifth Year." |
Then couldn't you send me to Gryffindor to "grow a spine" too? |
"Not everyone can," the Hat replied, "and I can't be sure about you." |
Something within Harry chilled. Or Slytherin, to find an ambition? he asked desperately. |
"You just don't seem to be the type," the Hat said. (And by telling Harry that he couldn't, the Hat all but ensured that he would. Yes, this Sorting was going exceptionally well.) |
And so Harry would go to Hufflepuff... |
He could imagine it now—the Hat shouting out the name, the Hufflepuff table applauding madly, Hermione looking like someone had burned a book in front of her, and throughout the rest of the hall, snickers and whispers of "so much for the Boy Who Lived..." Those snickers would follow him, and even the tactic he'd used i... |
You've faced worse, he reminded himself. You'll face this too. And he hardened his resolve. |
"Well, I guess that settles it," the Hat said. "Better be—GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted to the hall. |
What?! Harry thought, as the applause began to wash over him. |
"You felt fear and were prepared to face it," The Hat explained. "That's Gryffindor enough for me." |
A day will come when you find me holding something sharp, pointy, and inside you, Harry thought back fiercely, and as the Hat chuckled in his ear, he pulled it from his head. |
Gryffindor was beside itself with joy. The entire table was applauding—not polite applause like they'd given for the other firsties, but ferociously, as though they'd just won a great prize. The twin upperclassmen, Fred and George, were chanting "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Oddly enough, the Hufflepuffs were applaud... |
Well, maybe that didn't actually help. Oh well. He'd never particularly tried to be a good person. |
"Welcome to Gryffindor, Fred!" the Weasley twins said together as Harry reached the table. |
"Thanks, George and George!" Harry laughed. He slapped both Twins on the back, gave a few other boys high fives, shook the hand of the redheaded prefect who'd chased off Malfoy, and plopped down next to Hermione, who gave him a sort of sideways hug. |
He could get used to this hugging thing. |
"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming. |
He squeezed her shoulder and turned to watch "Thomas, Dean", the black West Ham fan, join Gryffindor. |
There were only a few children left to sort. "Turpin, Lisa" joined Ravenclaw. The staring redhead from the train—"Weasley, Ronald", so perhaps he was the Weasley twins" brother or cousin—looked extremely relieved when he collapsed onto the bench across from Harry. "Well done, Ron, excellent," said the prefect, and now ... |
"Zabini, Blaise" became a Slytherin, and Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat away. Then Albus Dumbledore stood, beaming as though a thousand of his closest friends had come to dinner, and the hall quietened. |
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before our feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! |
"Thank you!" he said, and sat again. Everyone clapped and cheered. |
Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "Mad," they said together. |
They soon dug into the food that magically appeared on the platters. The Gryffindor House ghost, an aristocratic chap who'd died around the time the New World was discovered, introduced himself, and Ronald Weasley continued to show his superior tact by bringing up a memorable but apparently hated nickname. Harry resolv... |
When the desserts appeared, talk turned to the new Gryffindors" families. Seamus had a Muggle father; Neville had been raised by his grandmother and a horde of great-uncles and -aunts; Ron talked about his five wizard brothers, who apparently included Fred and George and Percy the prefect, and his little sister. Hermio... |
Parvati Patil broke in. "Really? So that story about you and Dumbledore in the Black Forest—" |
"Made up," Harry said. "I've never even seen a unicorn, let alone bonded one as a familiar." |
Parvati and Lavender Brown looked crestfallen. "I was looking forward to meeting Portia," Lavender said. |
"I read there are unicorns in the Forbidden Forest," Hermione offered. |
"Maybe Hagrid knows a few," Harry said. "He's the gamekeeper, and a pretty friendly bloke." |
Lavender looked at Hagrid speculatively. |
Hagrid must have noticed Harry and Lavender looking at him, for he gave them a cheery wave. Harry waved back, his eyes roaming over the other teachers. Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were deep in a discussion of some kind; further down the table, Professor Quirrell, who'd added an absurd purple turban to... |
The other teacher looked past Quirrell's head straight into Harry's eyes, and suddenly, Harry's scar felt like he'd run one of his knives along its length. He winced, reaching up to touch it. |
"Harry?" Hermione asked. |
"Nothing," Harry said, but Hermione looked unconvinced. "Just a little headache. I think it was the Sorting." |
"You were under the Hat a long time..." |
"So were you," Harry said. |
"It was thinking about Gryffindor, but was leaning toward Ravenclaw," she said. |
"What changed its mind?" Harry asked. |
"I told it that either way, I wouldn't do anyone's homework for them anymore." Then she reddened and clapped her hand over her mouth. |
Harry went very still. |
"H-Harry?" she asked. |
Harry grasped her elbow and turned her to look at him. "If anyone ever makes a problem of themselves," he growled, "you come to me and they won't be a problem anymore. All right?" |
"A-all right," she said, and she didn't leave his side that night until it was time to go to their beds. |
Hogwarts Castle was a very strange place indeed. When Percy the prefect had led the first-year Gryffindors to bed, Harry had fought back his sleepiness and paid close attention to the route. He'd honed this skill in the labyrinthine back halls of shopping malls, grocers, office buildings, a hospital or two, even a poli... |
Harry got lost three times on the way down to breakfast. |
Hogwarts, Harry soon realized, didn't really have a layout, not in the way Muggles would understand it. Everything moved around on its own, seemingly according to the castle's whims. After the second time he got lost, Harry had thought about drawing a map, but by the end of the next day, he'd realized he couldn't—any m... |
Still, if you let go of the idea that the castle should have a strict floor plan, you could learn how to get around. You just had to keep the day of the week, lunar phase, and current House point leader in mind. |
Harry enjoyed most of his classes, particularly Charms and Transfiguration, though he was surprised to find that both were harder than he'd expected. Harry had to want the spell to work, of course, but his holly-and-phoenix-feather wand was pickier than that: it also demanded careful attention to wand movements and pro... |
Fortunately, Hermione stuck to his side like glue, and she had an eye for detail. After she got the spell working for herself (and she was always the first to get it working), she would turn to Harry and point out the little wobble he was introducing in the flick, or the way he was slurring the third syllable, or how h... |
Defense should have been another class like those two, Harry sensed, but the teacher made all the difference—Quirrell belonged in a therapist's office, not a classroom. The ghost teaching History of Magic was even worse—his class was used as a study hall at best and a dormitory at worst. Astronomy was held at midnight ... |
And then there was Potions. |
Harry hadn't forgotten the pain that had shot through his scar when the hook-nosed teacher looked into his eyes; he just didn't want to call attention to the man immediately after Hermione had noticed Harry's scar hurting. The next morning, though, he sat near the Weasley twins and pointed out the man as he filled his ... |
"That's Professor Snape," George (Harry was guessing) told Harry, and he instantly knew he'd be trouble. |
The pseudonymous Wizard of Oz had dedicated an entire chapter of his book to Albus Dumbledore; the author seemed to think he was well-intended but growing senile, and his hiring of Severus Snape was, if not Exhibit A, at least Exhibit C. The man hadn't even had the decency to pretend he'd been bewitched when he'd carri... |
As the author had pointed out, that didn't mean anyone else had a reason to trust him. |
The book had been published a few years before, and Harry had hoped Snape's reputation had caught up with him in the meantime, but apparently not—here he was, comfortably roosting at the teachers" table, spearing black pudding on his fork. |
"He's a foul git," probably-Fred said. |
"If you aren't in his house—" |
"—Slytherin, that is—" Fred interjected. |
"—it's just a question of whether he dislikes you or loathes you." |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.