Hermione stood, staring straight ahead at where the boy had disappeared. She wanted to go and find him again, yet she knew there was no point. He had already said it. He couldn't speak to her. He was above her. She scowled. He was too good to talk to her? Fine. She didn't need to talk to him.
She lifted her chin, not allowing a trace of doubt to show in her expression. At first, she attempted to find Harry and Ron again, but she quickly stopped. She was tired of looking for people. All day long, she had been looking for somebody. And had anybody looked for her? No.
She almost laughed at herself. Just one day of trying, and she was already exhausted. Maybe this is why you never had any friends.
Hermione shook the thought away. Who needed friends? She had made it eleven years without having any real friends. She could still do it. There were more important things. She would focus on school, just like she always had. If they really cared, they would come to her, and she would gladly accept their friendship. But she was tired of hunting for it.
"Attention!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the crowd. She had the kind of voice that made everybody do as she said, and a look that matched. Her dark, graying hair was pulled into a tight bun and the square glasses that she looked at the students through sat on the tip of her nose.
"Now that all of the students have been seated, we shall begin the Sorting. Each of you will be sorted into one of four houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. You will share a common room with your house mates, and a dormitory with four of your same gender and year. Everybody understand?"
Many of the First Years nodded, and a few muttered, "Yes, ma'am."
Professor McGonagall nodded curtly. "Follow me," she said, then turned around and walked stiffly through the arched doorway into the front of the Great Hall. Upon their entrance, the Great Hall went silent and the First Years wriggled awkwardly as they felt the eyes of the hundreds of wizards and witches in front of them, staring at them.
On top of a wooden stool was an old, tattered hat that Hermione immediately recognized as the Sorting Hat.
Hermione hid herself behind the rest of her class and tried her hardest not to focus on the crowd, only tuning in to make sure her name hadn't been called yet. "Abbot, Hannah!" McGonagall called sharply, then placed the tattered hat on the nervous girl's head. Hermione tuned out again, realizing that she was calling names in alphabetical order.
She looked up at the ceiling and stared in wonder at the starry sky it showed. She recited the paragraph she had read about it in Hogwarts: A History.
The ceiling in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is enchanted so that it will look identical to the sky above it.
"Bones, Susan!"
Hermione looked all over the place, reciting ever fact she could remember about the Great Hall. She looked at the doors and wondered where everything else she had read about was. The moving stairs, the talking pictures, the rooms where she would learn and the room where she would sleep. And to think, she would know that in just a few minutes.
Finally, Hermione thought about the moment in front of her. Where would she be sorted? According to everything she'd read, the Sorting was based on what the person valued. When Hermione read this, she was glad that there was hat to sort her, because she honestly didn't know what she valued most. Bravery? Wit? Kindness? Ambition? All of these were important to Hermione, and she could never have tried to sort herself.
She must have lost herself in thought longer than before, because what broke this train of thought was the calling of her name.
Her head turned swiftly toward McGonagall. With wide eyes and shaking limbs, Hermione made her way over to the stool. She sat down and McGonagall placed the hat on Hermione's head. Even though she had been expecting it, she still started slightly when she heard the hat's voice in her ear.
"Oh, this is a tough one," he muttered. "Definitely clever enough for Ravenclaw, but what does this girl value? Sets big goals for herself, I see. Friendly enough, but no, this is not a Hufflepuff. Oh, this girl's definitely got some nerve! A tough one indeed." The hat hummed. "Let's see... You belong in... GRYFFINDOR!" The last word was shouted so that the entire Great Hall could hear.
Gryffindor, they wear red and yellow, Hermione reminded herself. She scanned the room and found her table was the second from the left, where her classmates clapped for their new member. She sighed, trying to release the nervousness from her system. She took a seat near the front of the table. The boy she sat next to was clearly related to Ron. Tall, with red hair and an abundance of freckles.
Hermione turned and watched the rest of the Sorting. The next person to catch her attention was Neville Longbottom. He must have been the most nervous of them all as he stumbled across the stage to the stool. He nearly flinched away from the hat when McGonagall place sit on his head. Hermione could almost see his mind racing.
There was definite pause before the hat declared, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Neville, unlike Hermione, did not seem to relax as he made his way to his assigned table. "Welcome, Neville," Hermione said, gesturing to the seat next to her, hoping that this would ease his nerves somewhat. But Neville only offered a small, detached smile as he took the seat next to her.
Meanwhile, Draco stood in the same place Hermione had mere moments ago. He waited quietly, trying to distract himself, and only being successful for less than a minute at a time.
He gave the Sorting his undivided attention when he heard Professor McGonagall shout, "Granger, Hermione!"
Draco watched the bushy-haired girl half-walk-half-run over to the stool and allow McGonagall to place the hat on her head.
Even though he knew it was next to impossible since she was a Muggle born, he hoped she could be sorted into Slytherin. He would never be able to excuse a Muggle born to his father. But maybe, maybe, if she was a Slytherin, it could do something. Besides, the Houses were created centuries ago. Certainly the expectations weren't the same as they had been at the time. She could get in because she was cunning, ambitious, or proud.
But Draco had gotten his hopes up, and was disappointed when he heard the hat shout, "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Longbottom, Neville," shouted the Professor.
That meant Draco was next.
After a brief silence, the hat called the boy a Gryffindor. Draco almost began to walk before McGonagall said his name.
Heart pounding, Draco strode over to the stool and took a seat. The old witch placed the hat on his head.
Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Draco repeated the word over and over again in his mind.
"Slytherin, you say? But you could do so well elsewhere. Loyal, and fiercely protective of the ones you love. I could call you a Gryffindor..." The Sorting Hat murmured in his ear.
No! I have to be a Slytherin. Make me a Slytherin, please. Draco begged.
"Alright," the hat sighed. "If that is your wish. SLYTHERIN!"
Draco sighed in relief and walked stiffly over to the table on the far left, where students in green and silver robes were applauding his arrival.
Hermione watched him join the Slytherin table, somewhat disappointed that he hadn't joined her. Then she corrected herself. It was no wonder he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor. Gryffindors valued bravery, and anybody who wouldn't talk to her because of her background was clearly a coward.
Nobody in the Great Hall said a word when Professor McGonagall shouted, "Potter, Harry!"
A clearly terrified Harry stepped slowly and tentatively over to the stool.
The hat took the longest pause it had throughout the entire Sorting when placed upon his head. It must have been and entire minute before it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Around her, students stood and cheered louder than they had for her, or any other new Gryffindor. Harry smiled as he joined his new classmates. Many offered their hands for him to shake. "Harry Potter, I'm Percy Weasley. So nice to meet you."
Harry smiled and shook his hand, and Hermione confirmed her suspicion that the boy was Ron's brother.
But Hermione smiled just as brightly as Harry when he sat down next to her. "Hello, Hermione," he said. "Lost you in the crowd there."
Hermione couldn't believe it. He had come to her. This could work out after all.
There were very few children left on the stage when McGonagall called, "Weasley, Ronald!"
Ron looked relatively confident as he took the seat. His confidence was confirmed when the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Ron was the last to join the Gryffindor table. He took the seat next to Harry. "I'm hungry," Hermione heard him say casually. "When can we start eating?"
The people at the table shushed him as Dumbledore stood at the podium at the front of the room. "Now," he said, and his voice echoed. "I realize that you would all like to eat your meals, so I will try to keep the speech short. First Years, welcome! Also welcome to our knew Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Qurinis Quirrell."
Polite applaud rippled through the Great Hall.
"On another note, Filch has asked me to warn all students to stay away from the corridor on the third floor, unless one wishes to die a most painful death."
Hermione was one of the few people who reacted to this statement. This must have been normal at Hogwarts. Of all the books she'd read about this school, none of them had told her that.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "That being said, let's eat!"
Food appeared as if from nowhere on the platters that had been empty a moment ago.
When everybody had finished eating, Gryffindor's Head Boy and Head Girl stood to lead the First Years to the common room.
The stairs moved twice as they were lead to the common room. Hermione was both fascinated and nauseated by this.
"And here we are," the Seventh Year girl told them. She stood in front of a portrait of a fat lady. "All you have to do to get into the common room is tell the Fat Lady your password and she'll let you in." The girl turned to the portrait and said clearly, "Balderdash."
The portrait swung open and the First Years followed Head Boy and Girl through the passageway into the common room.
The room was filled with furniture and decorated with Gryffindor colors. At the end of the room was two doors. The Head Boy gestured to these doors next. "On the left is the boy's dormitory, and on the right is the girl's. Don't try to go into the wrong dormitory. That's your only warning." He straightened up. "Now, unless anybody has any questions?" Nobody offered any. "Then off you go."
Hermione walked up the stairs behind the door on the right. She found that her assigned dormitory was shared with Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Eloise Midgen, and Fay Dunbar. She greeted the girls politely, then retreated to her four poster bed and drew the curtains. Tomorrow her education began. Her anticipation nearly kept her up all night.
Draco was lead to his common room the same way as everybody else. It was a long walk for the Slytherins, as their common room was all the way in the dungeons. The Head Boy told them that the password was "Pure-blood." He walked absently into the boy's dormitory, where he shared a room with Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. The boy's barely greeted each other before settling into their own beds.
Draco lied on his back, staring at the ceiling, and thinking about that girl. He had almost been in her house. He could have talked to her. But he had pushed her away because of her blood status. He was ashamed of himself, even though he knew it was for the best. His father would never approve if he knew he liked a Muggleborn girl, or if he had been sorted into any House other than Slytherin. But his father could not control his thoughts, and all of his thoughts were about her.
Only after a while, though, it was more than just thoughts. Draco found himself planning. He had to find her, and he was going to do it, one way or another.