The Marauders 2.0

The Sorting

Hogwarts was breathtaking. There was no other word for it. It was perched over the lake, its lights reflected in the glassy, mirror-like surface. The towers pierced the sky, grazing the clouds with needle-sharp spines. The smaller building of the Owlery was visible off to one side of the castle, and the Astronomy Tower was so high that none of the first years could see the top.

Ari decided that this would be a very pleasant place to learn.

She looked up at it in awe, amazed at the beauty of it, at the magic, and startled when the boats hit the gravelly shore. She stepped out of the boat, her feet crunching on the small rocks, and joined back up with Caelus, Neville, and Hermione.

Hagrid led them to the double doors that opened onto the castle. He knocked twice, and a tall, rather old woman came out. She seemed to exude an aura of power and confidence, and the first years immediately knew that they would not want to get on her bad side. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun, and she was wearing a proper hat. She waved her wand, and the residual wet from the boats dried off them.

This turned out to be useless, however, as not more than two minutes later a small man wearing a mismatched, patched coat flew through the Entrance Hall, cackling and dropping water balloons on the unprepared first years.

They were escorted to a dark little room. Rumors circulated about having to fight a troll, or even a dragon.

Ari did not feel prepared to fight a niffler, let alone a dragon. If that was the price to pay, then she was going to be on the first train to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

She leaned against the wall and attempted to calm her nerves. Meanwhile, Caelus seemed to be having the time of his life, going around, and talking to as many other students as he could. The second boy from her boat, Harry Potter, stood next to her and voiced his concerns, seemingly happy to have someone who would listen to him.

Ari had no idea how much time had passed when Professor McGonagall returned. She was levitating a stool and a lump of fabric. She beckoned to the children, who stumbled around after her like lost puppies, unsure of what exactly they were meant to be doing. They entered a cavernous room. Aquarius was once again taken by surprise at the beauty of it. There were four long tables, each decorated with a house’s colors and filled with black-robed students. At the front of the room, there was a fifth table. This one was filled with adults, and in front of the audience was a white-haired, bespectacled old man. He wore halfmoon glasses and seemed to be quite kind.

McGonagall set up a stool in front of the tables and placed the rumpled piece of fabric on it. It seemed to inflate, grow, and change in shape, until it was an old, tattered wizard’s hat. It opened a strange seam along the brim and began to sing.

“Oh, you may not think me pretty,

But don’t judge on what you see,

I’ll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There’s nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can’t see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you’ve a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You’ll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don’t be afraid!

And don’t get in a flap!

You’re in safe hands (though I have none)

For I’m a Thinking Cap!

Everyone around the hall began clapping as the hat returned to its inanimate state. Professor McGonagall explained the sorting, and Aquarius was indescribably relieved that she would not have to fight any trolls or dragons. And so, the sorting began.

“Abbott, Hannah!”

The girl walked up to the stool and sat, looking pale and nervous. The hat was placed on her head and a few minutes later, it yelled out: “HUFFLEPUFF!”. This process was repeated with a boy, then:

“Black, Aquarius!”

She walked up to the stool. She sat. The hat was placed over her head. It smelled like pumpkin juice and cinnamon.

Another Black, I see, said a little voice in her head.

Yes. That’s me. Where am I going to be put? She thought, trying to project her thoughts at the piece of fabric.

Hmm. This is a puzzling one. You’d do very well in any house, my dear, very well indeed.

She remembered Caelus’s words on the train about her doing well in any house.

See, we have plenty of loyalty and strength of character. Very Hufflepuff. And yet, the desire to learn is extraordinarily Ravenclaw of you. Slytherin is an option, you are certainly cunning enough. And Gryffindor. Your father’s house. Plenty of courage and bravery here, just like him, it mused, and Aquarius had the distinct feeling that if it was thinking hard.

I am NOTHING like my father, she said, wondering how she could be compared to him.

Of course not. Well. I believe that Slytherin and Hufflepuff are out of the running. Leaving Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Hmm. It deliberated for what seemed like an eternity, before finally saying Well. I suppose it ought to be… “GRYFFINDOR!” This last word was shouted out, and Aquarius slipped off the stool in relief.

More children were called, then Hermione stepped up. The hat took quite a while with her as well, finally choosing Gryffindor, and the next one stepped up. Neville was next, also a Gryffindor. Ari was surprised. She had expected the boy to be a better fit for Hufflepuff. Draco Malfoy, her cousin, stepped up, and was a Slytherin before the hat touched his blonde hair. Next up was “Lupin, Caelus!”. Caelus walked to the stool confidently and became a Gryffindor nearly as fast as Draco had become a Slytherin. Harry and Ron, the boys from the boat, were among the last few to be sorted. Both ended up in Gryffindor. Dumbledore ended the sorting, and they began to eat, the tables piling high with food of every sort.

Ari decided over the course of the meal that, wonderful though he was, her Uncle Regulus was a horrible storyteller. He had told her many stories about Hogwarts, but none of them did it any justice, she decided as she tucked into a particularly delicious piece of cake.