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Aurora Areli
THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood at the entrance. She had a very stern face; definitely not someone I wanted to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door open wide and led us into the entrance hall. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase leading to the upper floors faced us.
We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, and the whole time I stared around in astonishment. To the right, there was the drone of hundreds of voices through a door. The rest of the school must have already been in there. Instead of leading us through the door, Professor McGonagall showed us first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall.
We crowded in, standing closer together than we would have under normal circumstances. I peered around nervously at my fellow students.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your new seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. I saw Harry nervously trying to flatten his hair (I had given up on mine).
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber.
I turned to Ron and wiped the dirt off his nose with my sleeve, then went up to Harry and said, "Here, let me help," before running my fingers through his messy hair to try flatten it.
It did help, but not much.
"Thanks," Harry said, his face flushing red. He then asked Ron and me, "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"
"Some sort of test, I think," Ron replied. "Fred and George said it hurts a lot, but I think they were joking."
When I saw Harry's terrified look, I said, "Don't listen to him, it doesn't hurt. My brother told me all we have to do is try on a hat."
He and Ron looked relieved, though still unsure.
When several people behind us screamed, I whipped around to see what the commotion was about.
"What the —?"
I gasped. So did the people around me. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room, glancing at us. Two of them seemed to be arguing.
A ghost that looked like a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, 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?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed us.
We didn't answer.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at us. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
I nodded mutely along with a few other people.
"I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice I knew to be Professor McGonagall. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." After she said this, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall, one by one. "Now form a line," Professor McGonagall instructed, "and follow me."
Still between Harry and Ron, we followed behind Professor McGonagall through a pair of great big double doors.
The Great Hall was 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.
Professor McGonagall led us up to the front so that we came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind us. The hundreds of faces staring at us looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the rest of the students, the ghosts shone a misty silver.
A lot of us looked upward to see a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
I had read about it too, but seeing it in person, it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't just open up onto the heavens.
Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat that was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
I scrunched up my nose at the sight of it. Who knew the last time that thing was washed.
For a few seconds, there was complete silence, then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and, much to my surprise — 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're 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!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.
"I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll," Ron whispered to Harry and me.
I smiled, amused that he would believe such a thing; although, we did go to a magic school, so I suppose anything was possible.
Harry smiled weakly.
Professor McGonagall now 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. There was a pause —
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
That didn't look so bad, I thought. No reason to be nervous.
"Areli, Aurora!"
Okay, now I was nervous.
I didn't particularly care what house I was in, since I knew all of them were good. I was more so nervous about being separated from my new acquaintances and having to start over.
A chorus of whispers followed me as I staggered out from between Harry and Ron, both of whom threw me encouraging looks. I knew those people were whispering to each other about my parents and uncle and their history, which seemed to follow me everywhere. I was internally cursing as I made my way up to the front.
I sat down on the stool and gently placed the hat on my head, (it immediately fell over my eyes), and waited for something to happen.
"Ah," a soft voice murmured in my ear. "I see great things in your future. Very intelligent, yes, not a bad conscience. You have a knack for solving problems, I see. Talented, yes. Lots of courage and loyalty, you would do anything to protect the ones you love . . . that's interesting, I haven't seen one of your kind since your mother and brother. There's kindness and ambition as well . . . where to put you?"
I want to prove to people that I'm different, I thought, I don't want to live in my family's shadow anymore.
"Hmm . . . I see," said the small voice. "Well then, that can only mean one thing — GRYFFINDOR!"
I stiffened in shock, then a grin slowly made its way onto my face. I took off the hat and placed it back on the stool, listening to the cheers and whistles of my new house as I walked over to the table on the far left, waving at Harry and Ron as I passed.
I sat down near one of the redheads I had seen crossing the barrier, who shook my hand as I took my seat.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and I noticed the girl scuttle off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The second table 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 second Gryffindor after me; I could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling, causing me to roll my eyes.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin, and from what I could tell, they didn't look as welcoming as my brother had told me.
Speaking of whom, I caught Atticus' eye and he smiled at me, flashing a thumbs up. I returned the gesture.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
I noticed that sometimes the hat would shout out the house at once, but at others (like me) it took a while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy who was standing next to Harry in line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
I guessed some people were just more complicated.
"Granger, Hermione!"
I looked up and watched as Hermione almost ran to the stool, and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. When she got closer to the table, I stopped clapping and smiled, patting the seat between me and the redheaded boy who shook my hand for her to take. She gladly accepted.
Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called next, and fell over on his way to the stool. I winced in second-hand embarrassment. Poor Neville.
The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing the hat, 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 had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
I saw him go to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
After him, there weren't many people left.
"Moon" . . . "Nott" . . . "Parkinson" . . , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne" . . , and then —
"Potter, Harry!"
I watched as Harry stepped forward, and whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
I frowned, knowing how he was probably feeling. It wasn't fun being observed by your peers, having them make assumptions about you before they even really know you as a person.
Harry sat down and placed the hat on his head. His sorting seemed to go on for a while before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
The entire Gryffindor table — including me — broke out into cheers, the loudest ones yet.
The same boy who had shaken my hand did the same to Harry, vigorously.
"We got Potter! We got Potter!" the twins yelled.
Harry sat down across from a ghost in ruff and next to me. The ghost patted his arm, and I bit my lip to contain a giggle at his stunned face.
He noticed, and sent me a mock hurt look, which only made it harder not to laugh.
After Harry, there were only a few people left to be sorted.
"Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined us at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn.
Ron, the poor boy, had turned a pale green by now. When the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" I enthusiastically joined the applause, happy that my new friends (kind of, we're getting there) I met today ended up in the same house as me.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said the redhead (whose name I learned was Percy Weasley) pompously as "Zabini, Blaise," was made Slytherin.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at all of us, his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see us all here.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat back down and everybody clapped and cheered. I was debating whether to laugh or not.
"Is he — a bit mad?" I heard Harry ask Percy uncertainly.
"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
I looked down, confused. Then my eyes widened at the plates in front of me that were now piled with food.
I served myself some chicken, mashed potatoes (my favorite food) and roasted vegetables before glancing over at Ron, who was stuffing his face as though he hadn't eaten in days, although I knew he and Harry had filled themselves with sweets earlier.
I shared a look with Hermione, who shook her head in disapproval.
"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut his steak.
"Can't you —?" Harry began.
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? 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 was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but had not done it properly. I immediately turned away, hoping it wasn't too rude.
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 championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."
I turned to look 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. I noticed he was right next to Malfoy, who I was pleased to see didn't look too happy with the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
When we had all eaten as much as we could, the remains of our food faded from our plates, leaving them as clean as they were when we started. A moment later the desserts appeared.
I helped myself to some pie as the talk turned to our families.
"I'm half and half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
We all laughed.
"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.
Neville began explaining how his family thought he was all-Muggle for most of his life, and how they would try to shock some magic out of him.
I was also listening to Percy and Hermione, who 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 —").
I yawned, feeling tired from today's adventures and full from the feast, when suddenly Harry clapped a hand to his head and exclaimed, "Ouch!"
"What is it?" I asked, concerned.
"N-nothing."
I frowned, but didn't push it. We weren't close enough for me to try, and I didn't want to weird out anyone who had the possibility of becoming a friend.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" Percy said. "No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
I noticed Harry kept his gaze on Snape for a while, and when I glanced back down at the table, the desserts had disappeared too.
Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again, and the hall fell silent.
"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."
I glanced over to the Slytherin table and saw my brother nodding in acknowledgement to Dumbledore, then smiling and high-fiving his friends. He wanted to try out for Keeper for the Slytherin team.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Harry laughed, but I frowned again. Dumbledore could at least give more context.
"He's not serious," Harry muttered to Percy.
"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."
I found myself hoping that was a special case, and that there weren't as many dangers as Atticus liked to describe. He could have very easily been exaggerating to get a reaction out of me, as he often did.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. I looked over towards the teachers' table and saw that their smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
The whole hall bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."
Everybody finished the song at different times. The Weasley twins were the last ones left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase.
I was too tired and full to try and look around at the castle or to memorize the way to get to our dormitories. I was wondering how much further we'd have to go when we came to a sudden halt.
A bundle of walking sticks were 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, and we all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
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," Percy said 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," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed us girls through a door that led to our dormitory. It was at the top of a spiral staircase — we were obviously in one of the towers — that we found our beds at last. There were four, four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up.
I chose a bed on the right near a window, and Hermione took the one next to mine. We were all too tired to talk much (Hermione, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and I), so we changed into our pajamas before I collapsed onto my bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
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edited
okay yes i know the main character is always in gryffindor, but it's important to her character!! (plus i wrote this at like 14 and knew nothing about plots bye)