Forbidden || Draco Malfoy

4. Sorting Ceremony

MY OWN SORTING CEREMONY

It's already the last day before the castle will be packed with Hogwarts' students laughing and celebrating being together again. I stand at the Headmaster's door, waiting for him to let me in so that the Sorting Hat can select me into one of the four houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin.

Hermione is in Gryffindor, house of the brave and chivalrous. According to her, the other houses also have certain qualities that predominate. In Ravenclaw, intelligence and curiosity. In Hufflepuff, honesty and generosity. And the last one, Slytherin, the worst. They've been picking on Herms since first year, our parents don't know about it but she told me. She told me that they call her mudblood and despise her. Now they'll find out what's what. If they mess with a Granger, prepare to suffer. Nobody touches Herms.

The extra lessons before term have been, shall we say... varied, to put it mildly.

In my first Charms class I was supposed to levitate a feather with the Wingardium Leviosa spell, but I didn't even come close. Nothing came out of the wand, not even a little light, not even smoke, nothing. Nothing. And that's the worst thing that could have happened.

Or not, because the same thing happened in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. And, in Divination, Professor Trelawney repeatedly told me that I didn't have an inner eye, that I should open it more, that I should be more perceptive. In one of her classes, I got up and left, saying that if Divination was optional, I wasn't taking it.

A week before the students arrived, I managed to catch up and do the necessary incantations and spells to do well in my first year, the fourth year for my classmates.

But it wasn't all bad. There was one subject, Arithmancy. It's a lot like maths, but the numbers are magical, so to speak. I love it and I'm good at it.

"We study the magical properties of numbers," that's what teacher Vector told me on the first day.

Herbology, I'm not bad at, but I'm not passionate about it either. It's just planting strange plants in strange and different ways in the right places for each one. You also have to know the parts and their benefits and dangers, but memorising and learning theory is my thing.

Then there's Care of Magical Creatures. It's awesome, every creature I learn about is better than the one before. Although, without a doubt, the hippogriffs are my favourite. There are different types of creatures, and I love it. It's similar to Herbology in a way, but I prefer animals to plants, truth be held.

My favourite subject is Potions. Although the teacher isn't the best in the world and may hate me, the subject is precise, specific and doesn't require a wand. It can also be similar to cooking, as you have to serve a recipe, but the steps are more complex and precise. I have noticed that there are steps from the ones in the textbook that they are they are better doing them in other ways and they give a higher quality result.

The sound of the office door interrupts my thoughts. Out comes a grumpy Filch, who smiles at the sight of me.

The squib has been friendly to me ever since I set foot in the castle. He's not as Herms described him. Though maybe he's friendly because he thinks I'm a muggle too. When he finds out about my progress over the last week, that kindness towards me is going to end.

During this week, I have managed to perfect my magic and reach the level of my sister and the rest of the fourth year students at Hogwarts. By concentrating, practising and trying hard not to look useless, I have been able to go as far as the teachers would have me go, learning spells like Riddikulo and Draconifors.

-Come in, Miss Granger -says the Headmaster's voice from inside the office.

I enter and see that it is full of pictures and people moving around in them. There are lots of shelves and cupboards, and there's even a cage with a phoenix in it. It's beautiful. It's a pity there are so few of them in the world. I've been doing some research, and the Dumbledore family is often associated with phoenixes, so it's only natural that the headmaster would have one. Besides, it wouldn't be surprising if his Patronus is this bird.

-Sit down, you are about to begin your own Sorting Ceremony -the Headmaster tells me.

My own Sorting Ceremony.

On the one hand, I like being special and not doing it like everyone else. But another part of me would like to know what the normal experience feels like, to be selected in front of everyone and to be applauded when the Hat says your house. My sister told me what hers was like, also that the Hat had some doubts about where to put her and that it's almost a hat stall.

I sit where Dumbledore has told me and watch as he waves his wand and the old hat stored in the corner of a shelf levitates towards us. He places it on my head and I am plunged into a dim darkness, and a voice stands out.

-Another Granger. But you're special. Or rather, your magic is special. And you're not just a little eleven year old, you're joining in at fifteen, I think I know what your kind of magic is. There have been others like you here before, but they were a little different -I grimace in confusion and surprise, not having been told about it-. Some were helped by the noble path of Hufflepuff, their souls pure as phoenix tears. Others identified with the wisdom of Ravenclaw, and this house satiated their curiosity. There are some whose ambition could only be satisfied in Slytherin, and their cunning led them to do great things. Some terrible ones, yes, but great ones all the same, in Slytherin as in the other houses, don't be clouded by prejudice -he says, and I agree. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, my father always says-. Besides, in Gryffindor, brave hearts have had their adventures, discoveries and mysteries, for as many moons as they have wished for them.

He pauses, in which I process everything he has said and store it well in my memory in case I find this information useful in the future. He speaks again, clicking his tongue, if he has one.

-Difficult decision to sort you in a house, child. All of them could help you in some way, all of them you would fit in. You have a kindness and honesty worthy of admiration from Helga herself, a bravery and daring that is unmatched, a great ambition and cunning that gives you an edge over others, and your intelligence and curiosity make you stand out. In no aspect do you lag behind. You have a gift. A gift for magic that will soon make itself known, if it hasn't already -I've been told this so many times that I'm beginning to disbelieve it, to distrust it-. I have been left with a difficult task, that of assigning you a house. A task that will perhaps change the course of destiny entirely. Such a decision should not fall to a poor hat who has only just learned of your existence, so I ask you, Eleanor Jane Granger, do you have a preference?

I am surprised to hear this. No one had told me that the Hat had a sort of suggestion box. I think a bit in case I can think of anything else, but I just say the only thing that has come to my mind since I knew I would be studying at Hogwarts.

-I want to be with my sister, please -I ask the hat, who makes an approving sound and speaks in my mind for the last time.

-If that's what you want, then... -He says, then the darkness dissapears and I see the Headmaster's office again. Then, he continues in a loud voice-, Gryffindor!

The Headmaster pulls the Sorting Hat off my head and I watch as he claps his hands, a smile forming on my face knowing that I will be with my sister for the whole term. I get up and Dumbledore tells me to retire and rest, that tomorrow I have to wake up early to get ready. He also tells me that I am a hat stall, as my Head of House.

I do as he tells me. I change into my pyjamas, back in my room, which will no longer be my room and I will be able to enjoy a normal stay at Hogwarts - or so I hope - and I throw myself on the bed, wrapping my whole body in the purple sheet of the room and falling quickly into the arms of Morpheus.

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