Weighed & Measured {HP}

8. sorted

The small fleet of rowboats started moving, and Harry turned to Draco, who blinked, and then spoke.

"Oh, right! Blaise, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Blaise Zabini."

The two boys looked each other over, and Harry felt as if he was being judged.

"Nice to meet you, Potter," Zabini said. "Though I'm surprised at your company."

Harry's brow furrowed.

"Why?" he asked.

Zabini laughed. It wasn't a cruel laugh, but it made Harry uncomfortable nonetheless.

"You have no idea, do you?" he asked. "Oh, this year is going to be more fun than I thought."

They all ducked their heads as they went under a long curtain of ivy; on the other side, the boats docked in a sort of cave. Harry clambered out, the rest of the boat's passengers following after him.

The group of first-years followed the groundskeeper up a flight of stone stairs to a pair of huge wooden doors, where he knocked on them with three loud booms.

The doors swung open, and Harry almost forgot to breathe, he was so excited. The open doors reveal a tall woman in green robes, with a stern look on her face.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," said the gigantic man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

So the groundskeeper's name was Hagrid, and the strict looking witch was Professor McGonagall. Harry committed the names to memory.

Harry moved with the rest of the first-years through the Entrance Hall, which was bigger than any room Harry had ever been in before, and into a side chamber. They gathered around her, waiting for instruction.

Professor McGonagall began speaking, though much of what she said was information that Harry had already gotten from Professor Snape. But Harry assumed that not everyone got a visit from a professor, so the speech was necessary.

The only news was that of the Sorting Ceremony. Harry had already figured out that they would be placed into the four houses somehow, but he hadn't given thought to how that would happen. He certainly hadn't assumed it would be in front of the whole school.

He turned to Draco. His panic must have been obvious on his face, because Draco quickly leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"My parents wouldn't tell me what the sorting was, but father said it was nothing to worry about," he said. Harry hoped that Draco was right, and that it wasn't some kind of test. He shifted on his feet, more anxious than he'd ever felt before. But he tried to hide it. Neither Draco, Pansy, nor Blaise who had stuck beside them, looked that nervous. So he didn't want to seem nervous, either.

There was a scream, and he whirled around, hand on his wand even though he didn't know any spells yet. Several ghosts had floated into the room.

He hadn't realized that ghosts were real, too.

They were having a discussion among themselves, but Harry was too awed by their appearance to pay much attention. Draco elbowed him.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"I've never seen a ghost before," Harry said simply, still staring at a plump looking ghost in monks robes.

The ghosts noticed the students suddenly, and the friar spoke, saying something about Hufflepuff.

"Each house has it's own ghost," Draco told him quietly. "My mother told me."