Marauders Year 1: Rule the School

Chapter 3: Prongs, The Sorting Ceremony

Stepping off the train, I look around eagerly for the castle. 

          "James, you'll see the castle in a moment or two. Or three. Or four. Not really sure," Remus says.

          "Yeah, mate. Just look for the person yelling for you," Sirius interjects.

          "Oh, okay."

We don't have to wait long. After a minute or so of getting pulled along by the slow-moving crowd, a shout goes up from somewhere in front of us.

          "Firs'-years! Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" 

Grabbing my new friends' elbows, we weave our way toward the source of the gruff voice. When we reach it, a throng of first-years are already surrounding him. He's exceptionally tall so he must be at least half giant. He looks like a jolly enough fellow to be around.

          "I know you! You're Rubeus Hagrid!" Remus cries. 

Every head turns our way.

          "I, er, read about you in Hogwarts: A History," he mutters. 

          "Righ' then. We shoul' get goin', yeah?" 

He lumbers off, swinging the oversized lamp and evidently expecting us to follow. So we do. In little troops of 3 or 4, we march after him. 

In a little, we break off from the main stream of students and head down a rougher trail. It's made of dirt and it's a little hard to see, but there are rocks here and there and occasionally, students trip. But, no major accidents so we're good. 

When we round the corner, we abruptly come face to face with a lake. It's surface is not blue like most lakes, but black as the sky above it. Somehow, I know that there are things beneath the surface that one does not wish to encounter on a daily basis.

I'm desperately hoping we don't have to swim when I realize there are boats floating on the lake's glistening surface. Remus, Sirius, and I clamber into the one that looks the farthest forward. When everyone is settled, the boats push off to glide across the Black Lake and I crane my neck to get a first glimpse of Hogwarts Castle. I am not able to.

Silence reigns and the only sound perceptible in its thickness is the swish of invisible rows pushing the boat forward. All of a sudden, the foliage clears like the curtains to one of the greatest spectacles in the world. 

The castle is a mass of turrets, towers, buttresses, and long candlelit windows. From each window, there is a warm bright yellow light, each seeking to outshine the one next to it. A murmur spreads through our ranks and we peer at it, trying to imagine what it must be like on the interior. Only Sirius, Remus, and I aren't trying to do that. 

          "Oi, is that there the Astronomy Tower or Ravenclaw Tower?" Sirius whispers.

          "I think it's Ravenclaw 'cause Astronomy should be a bit farther back," Remus answers. 

          "Yeah, I think the one that's almost shrouded in the clouds is the Astronomy tower," I say, pointing behind the tower in question. 

          "Ah, ok."  

____________________

At the top of the marble staircase, there is an old lady. She is tall and upright. Her graying hair is tied back in a no-nonsense bun and she is wearing emerald green-and-black robes. She surveys us with a hawk's eye. I know in an instant that we will not be allowed to mess around under her watch. 

          "The firs'-years are here, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, before stumping back down the stairs. 

She watched us until the silence was suffocating. 

          "Welcome to Hogwarts. 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. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You willhave classes with the rest of your house, sleep in yourhouse dormitory and spend your free time in your housecommon room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff,Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noblehistory and each has produced outstanding witches andwizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs willearn your house points, while any rule-breaking will losehouse points. At the end of the year, the house with themost points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. Ihope each of you will be a credit to whichever housebecomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutesin front of the rest of the school. I suggest you allsmarten yourselves up as much as you can while you arewaiting."

She turned and left. 

          "Sirius, mate, what house do you think you'll be in?" I ask in an undertone.

          "Slytherin. My whole family's in the house."

          "Shame. Gryffindor. But we won't be rivals, promise?"

          "Promise." 

We shake hands.

          "Remus, what house do you think you'll -"

          "Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Can't decide."

          "Nice."

Just then, Professor McGonagall returns and instantly, order reigns down the staircase.

          "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. Please follow me." 

She turns and the rest of us stumble in after her. 

The gigantic doors open and I am absolutely stunned. The Great Hall was gigantic-no, more huge than ginormous! It's ceiling portrayed the night sky and the place was lit up by a thousand hovering candles. There were the four house tables, just as promised, and we walked down the aisle in between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. 

___________________

Professor McGonagall makes us stop before a raised platform at the head of the room, just in front of the professors' table. In front of us is a single stool atop which is a battered, tattered, old hat. I'm inclined to burst out laughing but McGonagall looks dead serious so I don't. She takes a bound scroll of paper and, with a flourish, releases the holder. The paper topples to the floor and she starts at the top of the list.

          "Aubrey, Bertram," she calls, looking down at us through her square glasses. 

There is silence but Aubrey seems to be in his head somewhere. He looks rather panicked and is currently shaking his head adamantly. Must be mental. 

The hat bends over, a crease forming and a slit opens to serve as a mouth. 

          "RAVENCLAW!" it yells spontaneously. 

McGonagall continues to read through the list and I sort of zone out until-

          "Black, Sirius."

A murmur runs across the hall and my best mate (or so I consider him) climbed the remaining few stairs and perched himself on the stool. After ten seconds of tense waiting, the hat makes its final decision, earning quite a few shocked whispers from the rest of the Blacks. 

          "GRYFFINDOR!"

His face goes white as parchment and, bowing his head, he makes his way to the Gryffindor table. He sits as far from everyone else as possible. Wonder what happened there. After a while, I hear another name I recognize being called.

          "Lupin, Remus."

          "RAVEN-no. No, no, no, no. GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yells. 

It must have been at least five minutes until I myself am called. 

          "Potter, James."

The hall goes deadly silent. Well, I was certainly not expecting that. I confidently take a seat on the stool. 

The hat barely even touches my head when it yells,

          "GRYFFINDOR!"

And the whole hall erupts in applause and cheers. I bounce over to the Gryffindor table and sit down next to Sirius with Remus across from us. Well, seems like something is to gain if you're the son of a world renowned potion-maker.