Star-Crossed

Chapter Eleven: The Sorting Hat

The Professor led us through the large oak doors and into the gigantic room beyond. It was an absolute marvel of a room. A massive Hall that was nearly double the entire size of the Dursely's house back in Little Whining. Maybe even triple the size!

There were four long wooden tables in the room as well, all packed with hundreds of students, maybe thousands. My jaw dropped as I surveyed the entire area, trying my best to take in every single wondrous, magical inch of the place. I let out a light bark of a laugh in pure excitement as I caught sight of the thousands of candles floating just beneath the ceiling above us. What was even more amazing was the fact that the ceiling didn't appear like a ceiling at all. It almost looked like one huge window to the night sky, swirling with clouds and twinkling with beautiful stars.

Behind me, the voice of the bushy haired girl from the train, Hermione, cut through my awe, "It's not real...the ceiling." She noted, and I glanced back to look at her, "It's just bewitched to look like the sky. I read about it in Hogwarts; A History."

I hummed, slightly disappointed but still interested that the girl had spent an obviously large chunk of her holiday reading up on the ins and outs of the school. However, I did find it slightly annoying at the same time. But I shook off the irritation, she seemed nice, and I'd rather not make any more enemies if I could help it.

The blonde haired boy from earlier, was still staring daggers at the back of my head. I could feel his silver eyes trained on me, and I knew if looks could kill in this world, I'd have been dead on the ground in seconds.

We came to a stop at the head of the Hall, the professor moving to stand in front of us, next to a small wooden stool where a raggedy looking old had sat.

"All right," She cleared her throat to gather our attention, "will you wait along here for a moment, please?" She raised a brow, as if daring any of us to say otherwise and then straightened back up, peering over us to address the rest of the room, "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

"Dumbledore!" Harry and I leaned toward each other and whispered, broad smiles breaking across our faces as we could hardly contain our excitement.

We watched as the elderly man at the centre of the table at the head of the room stood up, his presence both warm and imposing at the same time. He folded his knobbled hands over the front of his regal crimson embroidered robes and began to announce, his voice carrying an immeasurable amount of power and authority.

"I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce," He noted, his sharp gaze raking across the room and then coming to rest on the gathered group of new arrivals where my brother and I stood, "The First years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students, also, our caretaker, Mr Filch." He gestured to a ragged old man that stood in the farthest corner of the room, a grey cat with piercing red eyes at his feet, "has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone that does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you." And with that, he sat back down, leaving the First years, including Harry and I to digest his cryptic words and warnings.

"Die a most painful death?" I wondered aloud, leaning into my brother's side, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Has looked at me, his lips thin, "I'm not sure it's in our best interest to find out, Nat."

We were interrupted by the woman in the emerald green robes stepping up once more, the roll of parchment that was in her hands before now unfurled into a long, long list.

"When I call your name," she boomed, her voice ceasing all chatter that had filled the hall at the end of the Headmaster's speech, "you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses. Understood?"