A Little Help from a Snake // Tomarry

4: Getting Sorted Out

Harry could hear Ron fretting about a test of some sort and refrained from rolling his eyes. Why would they give a test to a bunch of first years? They weren't expected to know any spells, were they?

He jumped as several people screamed.

About twenty ghosts had appeared, pearly-white and slightly transparent. "Forgive and forget, I say," one that looked like a monk said, "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?" said a ghost with ruffles, seeming to have just noticed the first years.

Harry had a feeling they did this every year with the first years.

"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." It was Professor McGonagall. Now, form a line and follow me."

Harry got into line behind Draco and Pansy.

The Great Hall was lit by thousands of candles that floated above the four long tables. Another table was situated at the back where the teachers sat. The ceiling had a velvety black look and was dotted with stars.

Somewhere in front of him, Harry heard Hermione telling someone, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

There was a four-legged stool in front of the first years with a frayed, pointed wizard's hat. A rip opened up into 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 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
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!"

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. A moment's pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

Harry noticed as the Sorting went by how Dumbledore reacted to each student. He responded enthusiastically for Gryffindor, less so for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and only mild politeness for Slytherin. A frown crossed Harry's face; someone was clearly biased.

Hermione Granger became a Gryffindor, which elicited a groan from Ron.

Neville Longbottom also went to Gryffindor, and he ran off with the hat still on his head. He went back up sheepishly to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco swaggered up next. The hat barely touched his head before calling out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Pansy also went to Slytherin, then there was "Perks, Sally-Anne."

Finally...

"Potter, Harry!"

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

No, Harry thought sarcastically as he stepped up. The other Harry Potter.

Before he sat down on the stool, he caught the gleam of anticipation in the Headmaster's eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," a voice in his head said, "where shall I put you? Hm, difficult. Very difficult. A thirst for knowledge, an ambitious mind... Hufflepuff is out. Gryffindor wouldn't be a bad choice, either."

Isn't that where Dumbledore wants me? Harry thought sardonically.

"It is." The hat sounded resigned. "But I believe Slytherin is where you should go. No objections? Very well. Better be- SLYTHERIN!"

No one applauded.

The reason for the lack of applause from even Draco and Pansy is because they hadn't expected it - even after meeting him. At least, that was my intention *shrug*