Cassia's POV
Most of the other first-years around me were chattering excitedly as we climbed up three flights of stairs, into a chamber between the Great Hall and the entrance to the school. Considering how tightly Harry was squeezing my hand, I could tell he was beyond nervous. Not that I didn't feel the same way. I'd only ever been to Hogwarts once before, on the day of Dora's graduation ceremony. So of course I was nervous!
A tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes was waiting for us at the top of the stairwell. This was Professor McGonagall, the Transfigurations teacher and head of Gryffindor house. Dora had told me all about her. Professor McGonagall was very strict, so getting on her bad side was pretty much the last thing you wanted to do.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors --" Professor McGonagall quickly nodded towards the doors behind her "-- and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Eachhouse has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches andwizards. While you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points; any rule-breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."
"Trevor!" Neville exclaimed. He rushed forward and scooped Trevor into his arms; the toad had somehow managed to escape him before we'd entered the castle and had been sitting near Professor McGonagall. Neville looked up at Professor McGonagall, and, trembling under her cold stare, muttered an apology and hurried back in line, near Hermione.
"The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," Professor McGonagall concluded. She left the chamber.
"It's true, then," one of the boys spoke up, "what they're saying on the train. Harry and Cassia Potter have come to Hogwarts." This statement caused whispers among the rest of the first-year students, which made me a bit uncomfortable.
The boy who had just singled us out stepped forward. He was a hair taller than us, with pale skin and slicked-back hair so blonde it was nearly white. "This is Crabbe, Goyle." He nodded to two slightly chubby boys standing on either side of him. "And I'm Malfoy," he added, taking a step forward. "Draco Malfoy." I already didn't like him. He seemed like a snob.
Ron let out a cough that may have been hiding a snicker, and Malfoy rounded on him. "Think my name's funny, do you? I've no need to ask for yours. Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley," he snapped. And apparently, my assumption about him was correct. He made eye contact with Harry and I again. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," he said, holding out his right hand for us to shake.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry replied.
Malfoy turned to me. "And what about you, female Potter?"
"After you just picked on Ron?" I questioned. "Not a chance."
Malfoy opened his mouth, ready to insult us just like he had done to Ron, but before he could even get a single syllable out, Professor McGonagall appeared behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with a scroll of parchment she'd been holding. Malfoy shut his mouth quickly as he looked up at her.
"We're ready for you, now," Professor McGonagall said. "Follow me." The double doors in front of us opened, and she led us into the Great Hall.
Harry's POV
I had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.
"It's not real, the ceiling," I heard Hermione whisper from behind me. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open up to the heavens.
I looked back down again just in time, because Professor McGonagall stopped us just a few feet from the teachers' table. Sitting slightly to her left was a small stool and a dirty, tattered, worn out hat. "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words," she said.
Professor Dumbledore stood up from his place at the head of the staff table. He looked just as he had on my Chocolate Frog card; he had silvery white hair and a matching beard that went down to the end of his torso, and bright blue eyes that twinkled behind half-moon glasses. "I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce," he said. "First-years, please note, that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out-of-bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you." He sat back down, leaving me wondering if he was serious or just saying those things to dissuade us from going up to the third floor.
Professor McGonagall unrolled her scroll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head --" she held up the tattered hat "-- and you will be sorted into your houses." She glanced down at her scroll. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stepped forward and sat down on the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. It fell right down over her eyes. A moment's pause --
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat cried. The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit at the Hufflepuff table.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy," went to Ravenclaw, too, but "Brown, Lavender," became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; I could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent," then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was my imagination, after all I'd heard about Slytherin, but I thought they looked like an unpleasant lot. I was starting to feel definitely sick now. I remembered being picked for teams during gym at my old school. I had always been last to be chosen, not because I was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked me.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, I noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnegan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to me in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione looked extremely nervous. "Oh, no -- okay, relax," she whispered to herself as she made her way up to McGonagall.
"Mental, that one. I'm telling you," Ron muttered.
Hermione sat down on the stool, and the hat was placed on her head. "Right, then..." it spoke, "Hmm...right. Okay -- GRYFFINDOR!"
A horrible thought struck me, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if I wasn't chosen at all? What if I sat there with the hat over my eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off my head and said there had obviously been a mistake and that I'd better get back on the train?
Cassia's POV
When "Longbottom, Neville," the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
"There's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin," Ron whispered to Harry and I.
"Okay, to be fair, Merlin was in Slytherin," I countered.
Ron flushed a light shade of red. "Oh -- right," he spoke. "My bad."
I glanced around, feeling someone else's eyes on me. When I saw it wasn't Harry or Malfoy or any of the other first-years, I looked up at the staff table. The culprit sat next to Quirrell. It was a man dressed all in black, with a hooked nose, greasy black hair, and dark, cold brown eyes. When our eyes met, he blinked in surprise. I could have sworn I saw him mouthing something to himself, a single word, but I had no idea what it was. I put a hand to my forehead, feeling a slight stinging sensation where my scar was. Harry must've felt it too, because I heard him hiss in pain. Sure enough, when I looked at him, he was holding a hand to his forehead, just like me.
"Harry, Cass, what is it?" Ron asked, looking concerned.
"N-Nothing," Harry stuttered, lowering his hand.
I shook my head slightly. "Nothing, we're fine."
There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last --
"Potter, Cassia!"
Oh, Merlin. It's my turn now. I trembled all over as I walked up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall gently placed the Sorting Hat onto my head. For a few moments, there was silence. Then --
"Let's see," the hat said. "A brilliant mind -- clever, witty -- just like your mother. Ravenclaw would suit you well. But wait, there's more -- talent and ambition, but not quite cunning enough to be a Slytherin. Hmm...you have such spirit, a zest for life...and what a kind and nurturing soul, always putting others before yourself -- with that undying loyalty, you would make quite the Hufflepuff. I also see that you have an abundance of self-confidence. You may not think so, but it shows, in more ways than one. Yes, I believe you'll fit quite nicely in...GRYFFINDOR!"
Out of all the people clapping and cheering, Harry was definitely the loudest. I flashed him a big smile and a thumbs up as I ran off to join Lavender, Neville, Seamus, and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.
Harry's POV
I cheered as loud as I possibly could when the hat announced Cassia as the newest Gryffindor. Cassia flashed me a big smile and gave me a thumbs up as she went to grab a place at the Gryffindor table.
"Potter, Harry!"
My feeling of joy disappeared, replaced by terrible anxiety as Professor McGonagall called my name. Whispers broke out again as I walked up and took a seat on the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the hat onto my head.
"Hmm," said a small voice in my ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent...oh, yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?" the Sorting Hat wondered.
"Not Slytherin," I whispered, closing my eyes tight. "Not Slytherin..."
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You can be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, there's no doubt about that -- no?"
"Please. Anything but Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin," I begged quietly.
"Well, if you're sure, better be...GRYFFINDOR!"
I heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. I took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. I was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, I hardly noticed that I was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy got up and shook my hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled "We got the Potters! We got the Potters!"
Cassia squealed as she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly, and I didn't hesitate to return the hug. First, I find out she's my twin sister, and now we get to be housemates!
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Cassia and I at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now.
Ron made his way up and sat down on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
"Ha!" the hat shouted, scaring Ron silly. "Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you...GRYFFINDOR!"
Cassia and I clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to us.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," Percy said pompously across me as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
I looked down at my empty gold plate. I had only just realized how hungry I was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.
Someone tapped on their dinner glass and called out, "Your attention, please?" I looked up at the staff table to see it was Professor McGonagall.
Dumbledore stood up. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see us all there. "Let the feast begin," he announced, before sitting back down.
My mouth fell open. The dishes in front of me were now piled with food. I had never seen so many things I liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
The Dursleys had never starved me, but I'd never been allowed to eat as much as I liked. Dudley had always taken anything that I really wanted, even if it made him sick. I piled my plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.
Cassia's POV
"Say, Percy, who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked, nodding his head towards the hook-nosed man I had caught staring at us before.
Percy followed Harry's gaze. "Oh, that's Professor Snape. Head of Slytherin House."
"What does he teach?" I asked, jumping into the conversation.
"Potions," Percy answered, "but everyone knows it's the Dark Arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrell's job for years."
I glanced up at the staff table. Professor Snape wasn't looking at me or Harry. He was still talking to Professor Quirrell. The way he'd been glaring at Harry and I before gave me a weird vibe. It seemed like he didn't like us, but I didn't know why. Neither of us had done anything to make him mad.
Ron was just reaching for another chicken drumstick when a ghost poked his head out of the plate, scaring him silly. "Hello," the ghost greeted. "How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor." No sooner had he said this, than a multitude of ghosts glided into the Great Hall. Luckily, I already knew about the ghosts, so I wasn't all that scared.
"Hello, Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?" Percy greeted.
Sir Nicholas frowned as he turned to face Percy. "Dismal. Once again, my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied."
Ron's eyes grew big. "I know you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don't mind," Sir Nicholas corrected him.
"Nearly headless?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it were on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but had not done it properly.
Looking pleased at the stunned looks on our faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Cup this year? Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."
I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy, who, I was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked with great interest.
"I've never asked," Nearly Headless Nick said delicately.
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifles, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding –
As I helped myself to a slice of trifle and Harry took some treacle tart, the talk turned to our families.
"I'm half and half," Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum's a witch. Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out."
The others laughed.
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me -- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once. I nearly drowned -- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced -- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all very pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here -- they thought I might not be magic enough, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
On my other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult --"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing --")
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After dessert finished, we were being led to our dormitories.
"Gryffindors, follow me please. Keep up. Thank you," Percy said as he guided us up a flight of stairs. "This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases -- they like to change." Several floors above me, I could see a couple of the staircases switching positions. Good thing Dora warned me about that. Sneaking a glance at Harry, I noticed he was also looking up at the staircases.
Ignoring the moving portraits on the wall pointing at us, I slipped an arm around Harry to support him -- because he was a little dizzy from looking up at the stairs and tired from being full of food -- as we rushed to keep up with Percy. But soon, Percy came to a halt and put his arm out to stop us.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of us, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to us first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves -- show yourself."
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at us. We all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy barked.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Caput Draconis," Percy replied.
The portrait swung open, revealing a large gap in the wall, and Percy led us through. On the other side of the portrait was a circular room, decked out in red and gold, and full of cozy-looking armchairs and couches.
"Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys' dormitories upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right," Percy informed us, nodding towards two spiral staircases on either side of him. "You'll find all of your belongings have already been brought up."
I followed the other first-year Gryffindor girls -- Lavender, Parvati, Hermione, and a girl named Romilda Vane -- through a door and up a spiral staircase to our dormitory. Just as Percy had informed us, our trunks were already in the room.
I opened up my trunk, pulled out my pajamas (chapter pic), and raced into the bathroom so I could change in private. When I was done, I quickly brushed and flossed my teeth, and then stepped out of the bathroom. Ivy had jumped up onto my bed, so I crawled under the covers and fell asleep cuddling her.
Harry's POV
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – we were obviously in one of the towers – we found our beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, we pulled on our pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to me through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets!"
I was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart, but I fell asleep almost at once.
Perhaps I had eaten a bit too much, because I had a very strange dream. I was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to me, telling me I must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was my destiny. I told the turban I didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; I tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully -- and there was Malfoy, laughing at me as I struggled with it -- then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold -- there was a burst of green light and I woke, sweating and shaking.
I rolled over and fell asleep again, and when I woke the next day, I didn't remember the dream at all.