Spellbound → Hermione Granger [1] ✔

I 05 I A Talking Hat

~*~

The door swung open at once, and the students entered the castle. Alexander felt at ease after the heat from inside replaced the bitter chill of the evening air. Judging by the expressions of his fellow students, he saw that most of them felt the same.

A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood in front of them. She had a very stern face which reminded Alexander of his Grandfather, indicating that she would tolerate no misbehaviour. He definitely would not want to be on her bad side.

'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,' said the giant man.

A brisk Scottish accent cut through. 'Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.'

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so large that several houses in Notting Hill could have fit inside it like a jigsaw piece. It was slightly intimidating for the first years. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to view, and a splendid marble staircase led to the upper floors. It's only the entrance, and it's already better than the whole of Buckingham Palace.

Yet, the castle was also outdated. If Hogwarts were taken and placed in the middle of a field during the Middle Ages, the people at the time would hardly bat an eyelash as it would resemble any old medieval castle.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. The murmur of multiple voices from behind a doorway resonated. The rest of the school must already have sat down. Alexander thought they were going through those doors, but Professor McGonagall gestured for them to enter a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing closer together than they would usually have done, wide-eyed and anxious. Alexander stood near Hermione and Neville; Hermione had the straightest posture that Alexander had ever seen from any child and even some adults. She listened to Professor McGonagall with rapt attention, eager to prove herself. Alexander didn't think she even blinked. Neville, on the other hand, appeared as if he'd rather be anywhere but here.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' said Professor McGonagall. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses.'

Alexander felt his stomach rumble. A feast – now they were talking. The jelly beans on the train had scarcely fulfilled him and the meal Eliot cooked this morning was so long ago.

'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.'

Alexander frowned worriedly. What if he didn't get on with the rest of the people in his House? He peeked at Hermione from the corner of his eye. Alexander prayed he'd get in the same house as her. At least then they'd both, though briefly, know each other. Although, he supposed he wouldn't mind if he were sorted into any of the Houses. Hufflepuff had Nia Jennings, the girl he met on the train, but she was a second-year; they wouldn't have the same classes today. Nia had told him that Slytherin was an unfavourable House for the majority. But how can people judge someone entirely on what House they sorted in to? It just didn't make any sense. Surely a person is more than just their House?