𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱, fred weasley

˗ˋ 87

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
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-: seventh year :-

── IN WHICH SHE'S
SORTED

. . .

"If you would just follow me, Miss Beaumont." Professor McGonagall's voice echoed back to Elodie as they walked down one of the stone corridors off of the Entrance Hall, where she had just been seconds earlier; pulled out of the long line of students entering the Great Hall by the Transfiguration Professor.

Nerves were building in the pit of her stomach. She had heard from the twins and everyone else that she had spoken to that McGonagall almost always did the Sortings, leading the newest group of first years down the centre aisle, carrying the famous hat and rickety wooden stool to the platform at the end of the hall. 

"I am pleased to see you return to Hogwarts. Many of my colleagues and I agree that you were a model student to teach." The compliments weren't heavy and Elodie could accept them with plenty more ease than she would with any others.

Although she didn't suppose McGonagall included Snape in that group - the Potions Master hated her, as proven by the scathing glares she had recieved when passing him once in the corridor of Grimmauld Place after a meeting. 

"Thank you for letting me transfer, even if it's only just for one year." Elodie replied, hands folded diplomatically over her stomach as she followed behind, slipping back into old habits of the once-heavily taught Beauxbatons' etiquette (it had been wiped from the school by the time Elodie was in third year, but it stuck).

"It should be Professor Dumbledore you're thanking. Although I don't suppose anyone could deny your mother's rather strongly worded letter." Elodie winced, but before she could reply to McGonagall's revelation, they had turned sharply and found themselves in a small, dead-end hallway. "I apologise for rushing you, however as you may be aware - or not, as you did not witness the Sorting last year - there are first years that shall be arriving via boat within five minutes or so.

A few feet in front of them sat the stool and the hat which sorted the students. "I shall step outside to allow you some privacy." McGonagall announced. "Just sit on the stoll and place the hat on your head."

With a flourish of her emerald robes, McGonagall had disappeared into the larger hallway. Elodie suspected that this wasn't their usual way of Sorting - in private, everything done by themselves - but it must be different considering which year you were starting out.

She hardly thought that it would be the same for Sorting a seventh year as it would be a first year. 

Doing as she was told, Elodie stepped over to the stool and sat down, placing the hat down over her head. It was old, patched, frayed, extremely dirty and leathery, wrinkles on it almost looking like a face. She waited and waited, but no voice came like Fred had told her.

"Er.. hello?" She asled, voice hesitant and shaking slightly.

On her head, the hat felt as if it twitched, and seconds later, a quiet voice appeared in her ears. "Shame, I'm usually woken to the rather enjoyable journey into the Great Hall." What seemed to be the hat speaking said in a dry voice.

"I'm sorry, but I'm assuming it would be rather inappropriate for a seventh year to be sorted with the first years." Elodie replied, the hat making noises of agreement. "So I'm getting Sorted before."

"That does make sense." The hat didn't nod, but if it was a living thing then Elodie was sure it would have been. "Well in that case, lets get to it. Why, may I ask, are you a seventh year starting at Hogwarts for your last year."

"I attended Beauxbatons, I was actually here last year for the tournament." Elodie replied, relaxing in the seat and trying not to let her nerves get the best of her.

"Ah yes, Elodie Beaumont." She was only a little surprised that the Hat knew her name. "How are those scars on your arms?" Elodie paused slightly at that. Whenever she thought about the Tournament, she automatically thought about the two long scars up her arms. It seemed that the Hat could read her thoughts, or practised Legilimency at least.

"Getting better." She nodded slowly. "Um... is this necessary to the Sorting? Only that Professor McGonagall has the first years to sort as well as me and really, there's no way that I should take up any longer than two minutes." 

"Ah-ha, there it is." The Hat mumbled. "A debate between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Your friends are in Gryffindor, correct? Those dratted twins?" 

That wasn't her favourite way to describe Fred and George, but she just agreed. 

"Brains versus brawn. But then again, I suppose no Ravenclaw would question the process of the Sorting Hat. They would merely sit there and listen."

"But then that would be boring!"

"So a wish for action, proven by your acts in the Triwizard Tournament. Gryffindor it is!" The voice left her head with the last sentence, announcing the house to the empty corridor.

And Elodie breathed out a sigh of relief.

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