𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿-𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 - 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲

4 | The Sorting

We all crowd around the entrance, squishing into place, as Professor McGonagall makes her way up to the front of the hall.

"Ow!" I exclaim as someone's elbow collides with my ribs.

"Sorry!" Harry Potter apologizes, squeezing between me and Ron Weasley.

"It's alright."

Hermione shushes us from my other side.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," says McGonagall.

Everyone shuts up.

I think all the students are scared of Professor McGonagall.

I like her.

"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."

This'll be interesting. I've never had a family.

"You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points."

We hear a croak and Neville runs forward.

"Trevor!"

Neville grabs his toad and then looks up slowly at our Professor. He gulps and hurries back into the crowd, behind me.

"At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting will begin in a moment."

McGonagall leaves us alone and Potter and I glance at each other.

Potter's nervous. I can tell from his pale face and the tremble in his hands that he's trying—and failing—to hide and the way he's biting his lip slightly.

"They won't send you back, you know," I whisper. "Train's already left."

"Funny," he says sarcastically, but I see him relax a little.

"So it's true then, what they're saying on the train," says a blonde boy. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Murmurs of "Harry Potter?" go through the crowd as the boy saunters over to Harry.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle." He nods to two boys I assume are his thugs. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Dragon Malfoy? And I thought Dumbledore was a stupid name, I think.

Ron snorts.

"You think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy asks venomously. He smirks. "No need to ask yours. Red hair, hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley."

Malfoy says the name like it's an insult.

I don't like him.

"And you must be a stuck-up snob to think any of us would care about your opinion," I sass, stepping forward.

I don't believe Malfoy's used to people contradicting him.

That's about to change.

"And who are you?" Malfoy asks, turning to me. "I think a pretty girl like you shouldn't be hanging out with scum like Weasley."