Chapter 5 – Sorting Them Out

After hastily donning their robes, the four boys grabbed the belongings they had carried into the compartment with them and emerged into the packed corridor. “I swear I’m going to get that git back! Where the bloody hell is he?” Stephan asked angrily, squinting into the sea of students squeezing down the aisle to get off the train in search of Draco Malfoy. Seeing a shock of blonde pass him by, Stephan immediately cuffed the person on the shoulder.

“Hey you prat! Don’t think you’re going to get off easy!” he growled, poking the student in the back with his wand.

The blonde-haired kid turned around quickly, looking affronted. Unfazed, Stephan pushed the bewildered boy to the side, forcing his way through the crowd after muttering a quick apology for the mistaken identity.

By the time the Harry, Stephan, Neville, and Ron had gotten off the train however, very few students were still around. Looking out before them, they saw a very large man herding what appeared to be all the first year students toward boats filled with candles floating out on an enormous lake. As Harry and the others approached the man, who was now holding a torch his booming, throaty voice rang out to them. “Firs’ years over ‘ere! Yer takin’ the boats to the castle!” Looking back out over the lake, Harry could see what looked like at least a hundred candles floating seemingly in mid-air over the lake. As they tossed their belongings roughly into the boat that the large man directed them to, Harry noticed that the water of the lake must have been very deep, because it was almost as black as the night sky above them.

“Bloody hell,” Ron gasped as the boat began to carry them across the lake with a mind of its own. “This is brilliant! I’m never going to forgive mum for not teaching me magic earlier!”

Harry noticed his new red-haired friend’s eyes were alight with excitement as he looked around. Neville shared a similar look on his own face, though he seemed to be shocked speechless, while Stephan was characteristically slouched, looking smug. Harry himself was some mixture of these reactions. As he looked up into the sky, it seemed to be almost out of a storybook. The stars shone brightly down on the first years as their magical transports carried them across the lake. The moon was shrouded almost halfway by a few wispy clouds that gave an eerie cast to the over-large white orb that looked bigger than Harry had ever seen it. Unfortunately, the ride was over much quicker than he had imagined it would be, and he was shocked from his flat-back position as the boat lurched onto the bank at the other side of the lake.

“Looks like everyone’s headed up that trail over there,” Neville remarked, pointing at the path of floating yellow and orange flames dancing up toward the castle. Lifting their few belongings out of the boat, the boys added their candles to the line stretching like a long snake before them.

The walk, they discovered, was easily more tedious than the journey across lake. As they headed over the final rise, seeing the large doors of the castle in some detail at last, Neville stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth in determination after inhaling a large amount of air. Ron wiped a bit of sweat from his brow.

“I guess this is how they find out if you’re good enough to be in after all is it?” he asked bitterly. “Oh, the older ones can take carriages, but let’s have the first years trudge up the bloody cliffside!” Harry and Stephan chuckled. “Somebody needs to get in shape eh mate?” Harry said, playfully punching Ron on the arm. Startled, Ron almost fell over into an exhausted Neville, who barely avoided sliding backward down the steep slope they had just trudged up.

After apologizing very briefly to Neville, Ron turned back towards Harry. “I’m in perfect shape,” he quickly defended. I’m just a bit hungry you know. I haven’t got anything in me since those chocolate frogs back on the train. Get me some food at this feast they’re supposed to be having and I’ll be fine!” Harry chuckled. “Whatever mate. You’re the one that ate half of them- and just a couple hours ago at that.” Ron snorted. “Well, like my mum says, ‘a growing boy can never have enough of a good meal.’ ”

As the four finally approached the great open doors before them, they noticed all their luggage was neatly stowed in an area marked “First Years – Pre-Sorting”. On the other side of the expansive entranceway however, were four signs in various colors marking the different houses of Hogwarts: Gryffindor in red, Hufflepuff in yellow, Ravenclaw in blue, and Slytherin in green. A tall severe looking woman stood at the top of the stairs, her hair tied up in a tight bun, explaining to the other first years where to go. Once the group finally reached her, she exhaled in a sigh of relief.

“Ah, the last group. Head down the hall to the right there and you’ll be in the Great Hall. That’s where we’ll be having the Welcoming Feast and the Sorting Ceremony. Following the woman’s directions, the boys wound up following a group of slightly older-looking students through another set of gargantuan doors and into a loud room with four tables set in long rows with banners of different colors hanging above them. Grabbing the last seats available, Harry was pleased to notice that they were sitting under a red and gold banner emblazoned with a large lion.

“We’re sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table it looks like!” he said excitedly, pointing upward at the banners above them. “I’m definitely going to be in Gryffindor. Both my parents were, and my dad’s family goes way back.” Neville and Ron quickly made similar remarks, though it took Ron a while to recall that his mother had also been in Gryffindor, which elicited much teasing from Harry and Neville. Harry thought Stephan had been uncharacteristically quiet during the conversation, and noticing him glancing anxiously between the banners above his head and the green ones across the room, Harry patted him on the back.

“You’ll be in Gryffindor for sure mate. I wouldn’t have a worry if I were you. Your mum and dad were Gryffindors through and through.” Stephan seemed skeptical. “But Harry you know about dad’s whole family. Slytherin, the whole lot of them,” he whispered, not wanting Ron to overhear. Just as Harry got ready to reassure his best friend once again however, an older wizard with a long beard wearing oddly decorated purple robes interrupted them with a strangely loud tapping of his fork against his glass.

As the man rose to speak, the entire hall’s buzz of conversation almost immediately ceased. “Aha. I you will excuse me for just a moment. Before we begin, I realize that you all have quite a strong desire to eat after the long journey you have made to join us, so I will be brief. This very morning I was pleased to find the last words of wisdom given to me by one of my greatest mentors, and so naturally I felt that I should pass them on to you. They are as follows: chorus, daffodil, fossil, and leap. Thank you.”

With that, the strange man sat down at the long table set at the front of the hall and made the first cut into his meat. Noticing the students were all still looking at him, and most as if he had grown another head, he smiled and spoke again after taking a bite. “Just as delicious as the wonderful Welcoming Roast we had in 1949.” As if the mere fact that this man had made the statement made it fact, almost the entire hall dove into their meals before the buzz of chatter once again built up to fill the room.

Most of the conversation throughout the meal was centered around the sorting. A number of students sitting nearby Harry and his friends began fidgeting nervously, sitting on their hands, or turning ghastly colors of white as the students all over the hall began to finish their meals. Listening in with mild interest, Harry quickly picked up all the usual myths that first years were told about the sorting. A young black boy who was sitting a few seats down for example was checking his head very meticulously with a nearby girl’s mirror. Before he could stop himself, Harry broke out into laughter.

“What are you doing?” he asked incredulously. Having been seen, the boy straightened immediately and handed the mirror back the brown-haired girl next to him. “I’m checking my head for dust of course! A sixth year told me that if they caught me with a dirty head during the sorting they’d kick me out. My mum was pretty proud to find out I was going to a place like this so I can’t let her down.”

Harry’s eyes bugged out at this, while Neville and Stephan chuckled loudly. “That’s a bunch of nonsense,” Stephan scoffed. “They’re just going to slap a hat on your head, it might talk to you a bit, and then it’ll set you straight with the sorting. They don’t have time to check for specks of dust or anything else ridiculous like that.” Though he seemed a bit more relaxed after hearing such a confident rebuttal, the look on the boy’s face told Harry that he hadn’t taken it completely seriously.

Brushing off his head once again before turning around, the boy said “well, maybe that’s right, but like I said, I’m lucky to even be here, so I’m not taking my chances.” Turning back to his empty plate, Harry flinched when he received a sharp poke to the ribs. Looking in the direction it had come from, Harry found himself face to face with Ron. “What’d you do that for?” he asked grouchily. “Sorry mate,” Ron said, his ears once again starting to grow red. “I was just wondering when you thought there were going to start the sorting ceremony.”

Before Harry could answer however, the woman who had given them directions about where to go had appeared again, this time with a large wooden stool, and a beat up looking old hat, which she set perfectly in the center of the area in front that had before been occupied by the staff table. Tapping her throat with her hand, she began to speak.

“Ahem. If I could have your attention please, we are about to begin this year’s Sorting. First years, I am going to call out your names in alphabetical order, you will come up here, I will place the hat on your head, and then you will go to the table of the House to which you have been assigned. Before we begin however, it is Hogwarts tradition to allow the hat to share a bit of its wisdom with our students, new and old.”

Almost immediately, the mouth on the hat twitched, almost smirking, before breaking into speech.

Perhaps you find me ugly-- a simple, stupid hat,
But quite soon you will find I am much more than that.

When I was created, my makers’ magic done,

They asked if I would help them with their student-- sorting every one.

Each would teach a fourth they told me, showing me their test

So that each would get their favorites, different from the rest

Gryffindor- so bold, so strong, with courage never waning

Ravenclaw- with brains and wit, no problem e’er restraining

Hufflepuff- whom none could question was loyal to the end

Slytherin- gathered all, who were fullest of ambition

But fear me not and wear me, before all seated here,

And my wise eye will tell me, what will mark you o’er the years

Your safety is a sure thing, there’s no teeth in my mouth

And where your road takes you from here is yours to figure out!

As the hat finished its vibrant speech, the woman stood again and taking her place behind the stool, addressed them once again. “Without further delay, we will have our first student, Abbott, Hannah. The girl it turned out, was promptly assigned to Hufflepuff. Neville shook his head. “Well you can’t be jealous of her. Being first and all and a Hufflepuff on top of it.”

While the rest of the older students talked, most of the sorting proceeded with nervous silence from the first years. Harry only paid real attention to a his own group, and a few other names that caught his attention. He was greeted with a nervous expression from his usually supremely confident friend as the woman called out Black, Stephan. The nervousness was for nothing though, just as Harry predicted. After a brief (Harry guessed a twenty second) pause, the hat bellowed “GRYFFINDOR!” As he walked back toward them, Harry could see Stephan was all smiles.

The next to be sorted that Harry heard was the girl from the train, Hermione Granger. The four boys poked each other as she bolted up to the stool enthusiastically. “She’ll be a Ravenclaw for sure that one,” Stephan predicted. “All that know-it-all attitude, and hanging around with that goody-two-shoes MacMillan, she’s a Ravenclaw.”

“Besides,” Ron added, “she and that MacMillan kid were reading the bloody textbooks over in their compartment when I saw them. Everyone knows that no matter what the teachers say, Ravenclaw is the House for all the bookworms.”

Harry turned his attention back to the stool, where Hermione sat with the hat on her head. So far, she was the longest wait for a decision the hall had had, though that wasn’t saying much, as the others had been almost instantaneous. All told, it took the hat a couple of minutes to decide. When the verdict came, all four of the boys’ mouths hung wide open. The hat had shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” As she came to sit with the rest of the Gryffindors, she made it a point to glare haughtily at Stephan. “Great,” he groaned. “See what it’s done to her? Now we’re going to have to share a common room with that.”

Next up for Harry’s band of brothers was Neville, who after being called, turned an odd mixture of light green and his normal skin color. Neville certainly took his time getting up there, but once he sat down and got the hat on his head, it quickly bellowed “GRYFFINDOR!” and he seemed to instantly regain his color.

Almost directly following Neville was Draco Malfoy, who Stephan continued to survey with contempt as he approached to be sorted. Malfoy’s too was a rather unsurprising result, being one of the fastest yet to be sorted into Slytherin.

As the names wore on, and things became more comfortable amongst the first years, Harry had wound up in a conversation with the young black boy, who he now knew as Dean Thomas, about the Muggle sport of football. From even their short chatter, Harry had now been regaled by Dean about the West Ham Hammers, Dean’s team of choice, who from Dean’s perspective were the best team to grace the pitch with their presence each and every season. Harry noted though that the absence of mentioning accomplishments outside specific games seemed to point to the fact that the club might be a little less impressive than Dean was letting on. Nevertheless, he was enjoying his conversation, and trying to learn a little about the rules, as his new friend gesticulated wildly to show different techniques and violations. Just as Dean was about to mention the Hammers newest off-season signings which were “sure to put us atop everything” Harry was interrupted by the woman’s stern voice calling out to him. “Potter, Harry”.

Harry certainly hadn’t been expecting to be nervous at all, but when he first stood up and saw everyone staring at him, he couldn’t help but feel a tug of fear inside his stomach. Looking back at Stephan, who flashed him a knowing smirk, Harry began to make his way toward the stool up front. Gradually however, as everyone turned back to their whispered conversations for the most part, Harry resumed his usual confident gait. Sauntering up to the woman holding the hat, he quickly accepted it from her, sat on the stool, and planted it firmly on his head. Though his father had told him that the hat often spoke to people, Harry was still a bit disarmed to hear its voice in his head.

Another Potter are you? Well, I remember your parents well. One brave enough to follow the rules, and the other brave enough to constantly break them. You though, you’re decidedly your father’s son I can tell. Already planning mischief. I’d have expected no less. Well, as fun as it’s been, I think I’ve given you a grand enough pause- “GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry walked back to the Gryffindor table and his cheering group of friends in a bit of a daze. He’d expected to be sorted into Gryffindor, but certainly not that the hat would know so much about him.

The rest of the sorting ceremony went without event, Ron being the last of the four friends to be sorted into Gryffindor by the hat. Cheers erupted from almost every table however once the final name was called and Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin House. As the woman in charge of the sorting carried off the stool and hat, the four boys, and especially Ron, were ecstatic to note the arrival of dessert on their plates.

Once the students had finished their meal, the old man who had opened the ceremonies rose to spoke again. “Before you are released to the care of your prefects and sent to your common rooms, I would like to make a few remarks. First, to those of you with us for your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, welcome. And to those of you rejoining us yet again, welcome back. For those of you who are not familiar with me, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am the Headmaster of this fine school, though sometimes with all the tricks it seems to play on me, I am left to wonder indeed at who controls things,” he spoke, smiling as his comment elicited more than a few knowledgeable chuckles from staff and students alike. “Nevertheless, I have been asked to advise you that the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to all students, and that our caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, has posted a new list of forbidden items on the door of his officer for your perusal. Thank you, and enjoy the night- for tomorrow, the journey begins anew!”

As Dumbledore sat down once again, the Gryffindor prefects, one of whom Harry had learned over dinner was none other than Ron’s older brother Percy, began to round up the first years to lead them to their dormitories. Percy Weasley, a tall, wiry boy who wore horn-rimmed glasses, began calling out to the students loudly. “All first years! Do not attempt to go off on your own. You will be following me tonight as I lead you to our common room. Keep in mind of course that if you do not choose to follow along, the castle will either lead you astray, or at best, you will be locked out of Gryffindor Tower by out portrait, guardian, and password keeper. Now let’s move along!”