Hermione Granger and the Philosopher's Stone

The Sorting Part 2

With a sigh of relief that the entire ordeal was over, Hermione ripped the old hat from her head and opened her eyes. As soon as she did though she realized that she was wrong. It was far from over. The first thing she noticed was professor McGonagall staring at her, mouth opened wide enough to catch flies. Hermione was fairly certain she saw something akin to fear flash across the professor's face. The second was the clapping, which was far less enthusiastic than the other first years had gotten, hesitant even. The third was the whispers. The closer she got to the Slytherin table the louder they got. 

"Granger? I don't know that name – You don't think she's a mudblood, do you? – Of course not! Mudbloods don't get sorted into Slytherin! Everyone knows that – Maybe she's from America? Or France? – She could always be a half blood – Oh, she might be a bastard! Those do turn up every once in a while."

Hermione didn't know half the terms the Slytherins were using. She'd never even heard of a half blood. Never mind, a mudblood. Quietly she sat down at the end of the Slytherin table, with the other first names. She kept her head down and inspected the empty plate before her in favor of introducing herself to the other Slytherins.

Professor McGonagall for all her surprise did not miss a beat, continuing to call out the names on her scroll. Though it was only when the professor reached a name she actually recognized that she looked up.

"Malfoy, Draco!" Unlike most first years, who trembled and timidly moved forward, the pale, platinum haired boy from the train swaggered towards the stool, smirking all the way. The hat barely even touched his head before it cried out: "SLYTHERIN!"

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about being in the same house as that boy. On one hand he was the most interesting boy she'd met so far – She longed to ask him if he descended from some magical creature – and in the confinement of her mind she could admit the prettiest as well. On the other hand though, he'd been quite rude to her. It didn't look like they were going to be fast friends, which was a rather big problem as from the way he was smirking at all the other Slytherin first years he was quite popular already. Being liked by popular people was a rather easy way to make friends she'd noticed, and being disliked by them a rather easy way to get bullied.

Thus Hermione decided then and there that her feelings on the matter were hardly important; it was already done. She was simply going to have to make nice with him. How to do that though?

"Potter, Harry!" Hermione got distracted as the resident celebrity made the entire Hall quiet with just the call of his name. She was quite grateful when he became the subject of the hissed whispers the rose up around her instead of herself.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

The boy with the unruly black hair put the hat on even more hesitantly than most. Hermione narrowed her eyes as he did. Was his mouth moving? It was! He was whispering something. But what? Hermione knew she should've just checked that lip reading how to book out behind her parents back.

That took his time with the Boy Who Lived as well, though it still made its decision far quicker than he had with her. Eventually though it cried out: "GRYFFINDOR!"

The entire Gryffindor table burst out in cheers, some of them hauntingly chanting at the other tables: "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Honestly, it was all rather childish.

After that entire debacle though the rest of the sorting went off without a hitch. The rude redhead from the train was sorted into Gryffindor and Slytherin house got another two members. Dumbledore said a few words that she hoped were someone of wizarding joke she didn't get, because the only other alternative she could think of was him being completely bonkers.