Her Power | Discontinued

The Sorting Ceremony

They filed off the boats, Emperor shrunk down to the size of a kitten and climbed into her hood, refusing to be left behind. The group of eleven- year-old scrambled up a passageway, coming onto smooth, damp grass in the shadows of the castle. They came up a flight of stone steps, crowding around the large oak door.

Three long knocks at the door, it flew open to reveal a stern-looking, black-haired Witch in jade robes. She opened another door to the entrance hall, large enough to hold the orphanage. The forty children were sent down and into a small side chamber, to prepare themselves and await their allowance into the Great Hall.

We got on to dry land and the door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face, and my first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the orphanages in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floor.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. SHE could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the us into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than we would usually have done, if we had a choice, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "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 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, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. 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. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"That won't work" SHE joked to Harry across the hall, because I was standing between Draco and Daphne

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. SHE saw Harry swallow.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurt a lot, but I think he was just joking."

SHE could hear Harry's thoughts-

'A test? In front of the whole school? But I don't know any magic yet – what on earth would I have to do? I hadn't expected we would have to do something like this the moment we arrived.'

He looked around anxiously and, following his gaze, SHE saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except the girl SHE believe SHE pissed off, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

"Show off" SHE muttered to myself.

SHE could see Harry trying hard not to listen to her. He seemed like he had never been more nervous, never. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him, or so he thought, to his doom.

Then something happened that made us all jump about a foot in the air – several people behind her screamed.

"What the -?"

She gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance – "

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."