A vampire at Hogwarts

The sorting

(Rachel's POV)

"We are ready for you now," The older woman nods.

The students around us shuffle nervously as the professor throws open the large double doors in front of us, leading into what appears to be a grand dining hall.

Stepping in for the first time, I was not prepared for what I saw.
Four long tables lined the hall, separated by colours and emblems that represented each Hogwarts house. Each of them occupied by students—tens of them going about their business and chatting with friends.
At the end of the hall, in front of a massive stained glass window, a long table ran perpendicular to the others, sitting slightly raised a couple of steps above the rest, looking down upon the entirety of the hall.

This looked to be the professor's table—where the adults sat, ate and observed their students. I strayed from catching any of the professor's eyes as we entered. I was aware some of them knew about me—about what I was, but I hadn't been introduced to them yet. I dreaded the idea that one or more of these teachers could be staring at me right now, criticizing my every move.

'I'm not a threat,' I thought, nervously gripping the ends of my sleeves.

Ashley excitedly nudges my arm with her elbow, grabbing my attention once more. When I glance to my side she's gawking at the ceiling, and I take that as a sign to look up.
Thousands of enchanted floating candles illuminate from above. The ceiling practically glittered with light, mimicking a starry night sky.
I'm awed.

Shaking off my initial surprise, I look around and find the other first-years also entranced in the magical scenery. The only one who didn't appear shocked was that girl Hermione—who went on to explain that it wasn't the real ceiling, but just a mere spell, as if that hadn't occurred to me already.

We finally reached the front of the hall and were now gathered at the bottom of a few steps leading up toward a wooden stool. A tattered old hat sat atop it.
"Alright, will you wait along here, please?" The woman instructs, giving us a firm look.
"Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words," she adds, stepping aside as an even older man stood from his seat at the head of the table.

Everyone knew of Professor Dumbledore. My father had told me he was headmaster, but I'd never seen the man with my own eyes, and I'd heard legends of him—his encounter with the Dark Wizard, Grindelwald. Dumbledore was thought to be one of the most skilled wizards that there ever was.
But this professor looked like he couldn't manage to hurt even a fly. Looks were deceiving, it would seem.

"I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce." Dumbledore glanced about the room, almost as if scanning delicately over each student.
Ashley and I exchanged a knowing look before returning our attention to the front.

"To the first years, please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker Mr. Filch," he gestures to a haggard, less-than-happy old man holding an overweight, yellow-eyed cat.

'Creepy,' I thought.
And coming from me, that's saying something.

Funnily enough, I wasn't the only one who felt that way either. I witnessed a shiver pass through that boy named Neville as he observed the eerie caretaker.
I noticed Draco sneer in disgust, muttering, "filthy squib," under his breath before turning his attention back to Dumbledore, who simply continued his address.

" . . . has asked me to remind you that the third-floor Corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

'What an uplifting speech,' I thought sarcastically, eyeing my sister to gauge her reaction. To no surprise, she made a similar face, lifting her eyebrows in a questioning manner.