The Shifter

Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin

The door opens again and all the first years look up to see a witch with long brown hair that hangs in a braid over her shoulder. She is wearing emerald green robes and a tall hat and carries a sort of beauty about her sharp, young features. She smiles at us all in a friendly sort of way. Who could this be? I was expecting- "My name is Minerva McGonagall," she announces. No way. "I'm here to bring you all into the Sorting Ceremony." Her voice carries her signature thick Scottish twinge to it. There's no denying it. I cannot believe I didn't realize who she is. She looks so much younger than I imagined her.

Of course she looks younger, my brain reminds me, it's the 70's. Oh, right. I probably couldn't notice the difference in Hagrid because of his beard, but everyone here will look 21 years younger than when I'm used to seeing them.

Professor McGonagall is still talking, "You will follow me out this doorway to the Great Hall, where the other year students have had a seat at their house tables, and one by one you will be sorted. Once you have been sorted, you will go and sit at your respective house table, where you will meet the rest of your house members and we will all enjoy the start of term feast." And the nerves are back. I glance at my hands to make sure that I'm not actually dripping sweat onto the cobblestoned floor (because that's certainly what it feels like) and when I look back up at Professor McGonagall, I see a conspiratorial glint behind her square shaped glasses.

"I have heard," she adds, "That the house elves of Hogwarts have quite outdone themselves with the meal this year, so please, give us no troubles, so that we may all sit down and eat as quickly as possible."

A mutter of assent moves through the group of first years, and Professor McGonagall turns and leads us through the huge and extravagant wooden door and into a wide room, decorated with banners that bore the Hogwarts crest - lion, eagle, badger, snake. Standing up at the head of the room is a long table with a bunch of teachers seated at it, looking on joyfully as the lot of first years shuffles in behind McGonagall. I try to get a good look at the table, but I can only recognise one person. Behind the large podium in the center, stands a male wizard beaming at us through half moon spectacles. His beard is long and mostly gray, with the exception of a few wispy strands of dark auburn hair at the end. Upon his purple robe sits a sprinkling of silver stars, making it seem like the wizard was wearing the night sky.

My guess as to who this is is confirmed when Remus whispers, "That's Dumbledore."

McGonagall leads us to the center of the front of the hall, facing the teachers, then stops us, and walks briskly over to the corner. She retrieves a short, three legged stool and a worn out old brown hat that looks quite pathetic. Honestly, they can't clean the thing once and a while? She puts the hat on the stool and steps back.

There is a stretch of silence that is really too long, while almost everyone around the hall stares expectantly at the hat, including me. If I didn't know what was going on right now, I'd be so lost, which, as I see when I turn around, most of the first years are.

I am about to tell James, Sirius, and Remus what's happening, but then stop myself. I'm a muggleborn. If James, a pureblood with two wizard parents, is confused, I should be too. Telling my newfound acquaintances information I have no explanation for knowing would be a very suspicious move. I arrange my face into an expression like I see so many around me have, and pretend I know nothing about this hat or the sorting.

Luckily, James and Remus don't need to to explain the situation because just then Sirius says, "That's a magic hat, that is." James and Remus look over at him, "It can read your mind, like, and tell you what house you belong in." Both boys look amazed and promptly turn back to stare at the hat.

Thanks, Sirius.

Suddenly, the brim of the dusty old hat splits open, forming a mouth, and the hat seems to come alive. It's an incredible sight to see a usually inanimate object moving on its own. Then, the hat begins to sing in a surprisingly good vibrato.