The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the groundskeeper said.
"Thank you, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall replied. "I will take them from here."
She opened the door wide to allow them entrance and they hurried inside, Neville holding tightly to Trevor as though he was about to hop away again.
The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house 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 floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry 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 first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, 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, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. 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 is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. 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 on Neville, whose cloak was fastened beneath his left ear. "I shall return when we are ready for you," she said. "Please wait quietly."
"How do you think we are sorted?" Ron asked quietly. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
"It's a hat," Harry said, causing everyone to turn to him. "You wear the Hat and it sorts you."
"How'd you know that?" a girl with blonde pigtails asked.
Harry smiled. "I'm good friends with a couple third years. They told me." In truth, Death had told him, but he didn't want to give away that he was an angel, so he blamed his demon twins. They would agree if asked.
"What? Fred and George told you?" Ron complained. "They refused to tell me and I'm their brother!"
Harry smirked. "Maybe they just like me better," he teased.
Ron sighed. "They probably do," he admitted, which caused everyone to laugh.
Because everyone was laughing, no one noticed when several ghosts floated through the wall. That is, no one except Harry, who immediately tensed.
One would think that angels and ghosts got along great, but that just wasn't true. Angels had permission from a deity to remain in the Realm of the Living, while ghosts were more like escapees. Not only that, but ghosts were usually jealous of an angel's ability to interact with the world.
Luckily, the ghosts were hardly paying attention to the children as they glided across the room, gaining the attention of the students when one spoke. "Forgive and forget, I say," said a fat little monk ghost, "we ought to give him a second chance—"
