Dumbledore's half-blood grand-daughter: Year One

Chapter Four: The Sorting

The door swung open at once. A familar tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. One look at her stern face, and I knew it was Professor McGonagall or Auntie Minerva as I called her out of school. She was the head of Gryffindor house, the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, and friend of my mothers. I know most of the teachers here at Hogwarts from various dinner parties and get-togethers that my grandfather and parents held.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall’s 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. I smiled glad to be at Hogwarts again but this time as a student. I visited a few times when I was younger but not for a few years now.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I 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. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than we 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 rulebreaking 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 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. Auntie Minerva smiled at me. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses." Harry asked Ron. "Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Harry’s face drained of color. I felt bad so I whispered to him, “You will do fine! There is a sorting hat and he puts you in your house.” Harry smiled at me looking relieved. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Then something happened that made Harry jump about a foot in the air and land on my foot -- several people behind us screamed. "What the --." He gasped. So did the people around him. 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.

"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." "Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.