Angie Weasley

The Sorting Hat's Decision

We exit the boats on the other side of the lake and I get my first close up view of the castle. Hogwarts. It was magical all  by itself, you didn't even need to go inside to know that. Even just the sight of it was totally worth those years of longing, and the half hour of paddling across the lake. It as hard to imagine that this tranquil building was filled with explosions and last breaths just one year ago. The sun was setting just behind the building making the view even more dazzling. I longed even more now to go inside.
          Finally, the last group pulled their boats onto shore. We practically run into the castle with Hagrid behind us, yelling at us to stop running. We got to the door and waited for Hagrid. He soon trudged to the door and we went inside.
The Entry hall was beautiful, but I didn't get to enjoy it for very long because Hagrid was urging us forward.
"Yeh' don' wanna be late on yer firs' year do yeh? Move alon' now we don' got much time." We make our way to the Great Hall. Once outside the entrance while we wait for Hagrid to open the door, I see that blond haired boy and his friend approach me.
          "Well, Well, Well. If it isn't another Weasley," he says.
          "Just ignore him, Angie," said Daisy, who was standing next to me.
          "I can practically smell your poorness," I can see his friend plugging his nose and mock-gagging. I roll my eyes and look away. I will find a way to get that stuck-up pure blood back one day, but now we had to pay attention to the Sorting Ceremony.
          We enter the Great Hall and professor McGonnagall greets us with her shrill voice. "First years, stay calm your names will be called in alphabetical order. Stay calm!" We're all very jittery with excitement. The ones who knew what house they will be selected as, excited to sit down; the ones who don't know which house they'd be chosen for, anticipating the events to come. The first couple names are called. The Hat is placed on their heads, "Gryffindor," or "Ravenclaw," or "Hufflepuff," or "Slytherin."
Then, the chubby, blond-haired boy's name is called, "William Goyle." He strutted up to the sorting hat and I was not surprised when the Hat called out, "Slytherin!" He smirked and then strolled to his seat that his friend called George Crabbe.
More names are called, more people sorted into houses. "Daisy Parkinson," Daisy gives me a glance and then walks slowly up to the chair. Why is she so nervous? She already knew that she'd be in Slytherin. I am not surprised to hear the Hat say "Slytherin!" as it is placed on her head. I can see the relief that she feels even though her back is towards me. She quickly assumes her seat next to a Slytherin second year girl.
          The next names are called . No surprises. People get sorted into the Houses that their families were or the ones with Muggle parents (I am not allowed to call them mudbloods) sorted into a House that is not Slytherin.
         My name is finally called. The world feels like it was in slow motion as I walk up to the seat. 'This part actually doesn't really matter,' I assure myself, I already know what House I will be put in. But I am really excited to go sit down and start eating. My stomach is growling and Ginny has already saved me a seat.
I sit on the chair. In front of the crowd of people. They know that I'll be in Gryffindor too. The hat is placed on my head. It smells old. Like dust and age. Just like the Burrow. I think about the times I'll have this year. Chatting with friends in the Gryffindor common room. Telling my sister about my day of learning magic.
"Now, don't get ahead of yourself, Weasley," A tiny voice penetrated my thoughts. "You have not read the signs, Little Weasley. Your favorite color is green, you show a particular disdain for muggles, and you have never felt like you have belonged in your family. You never wanted to admit it, but apart from your red hair, you share not much with your family. You feel like the outcast." That can't be true. I know the Sorting Hat is lying. I share love with my family. I share their kindness and mischievousness. "Yes, mischievousness you call it. But is it really the same as your family's? Your family is mischievous, bravely mischievous. You are cunning." Before I could react in shock to that the hat called out, "SLYTHERIN"
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