Abigail's Riddle (HP fanfic)

3: The Sorting Hat

        I wait in line with the other first years, fidgiting nervously at my cloak's hems.  I don't dare look up at the proffesors, pearing down at us in wonder.  I don't even look through the great hall to where I sense Tom is sitting, joking with his friends.  No, I'll just stand here and await my fate.

        There are murmers behind me, and to take my mind off the dreadful task before me, I tune in.

        "I'm going to be in Gryffindor.  My entire family has been," a boy's voice says, as proud as can be.

        "I hope I am too," another hopeful says.  "But mostly my family's in Hufflepuff.  I mean, it's fine, but Gryffindor is where all the great are."

        "I wish I was brave enough to be in Gryffindor," a girl says with a sigh.  "But it's so obvious I'm going to be in Ravenclaw.  Honestly, it's said that the first thing my mum said when I was born was 'she's going to be a Ravenclaw'.  She even called be Rowena.  It's absolutely dreadful.  I suppose it could be worse; I could be in Slytherin," she says in disgust.  There are several murmers of agreement.

        Just as I'm getting quite annoyed, and debating turning around and telling them all that Slytherin is, by far, the best house, the old, worn Sorting Hat begins its song.

So here you are all gathered

Just like every year before.

Most of you will know my song,

But listen, I implore.

The house that I will sort you to

Will show your heart's true colours.

But my aim is not to sever you

Or divide you from the others.

United Hogwarts stands,

And divided we will fall.

Animosity between us spells

Disaster for us all.

If you're Gryffindor you're daring,

Courageous and brave at heart.

While if you're Ravenclaw you're clever,

Intelligent, witty and smart.

In Slytherin you're cunning,

Ambitious shrewd and sly.

And in Hufflepuff you're fair and true,

Work hard and always try.

Now put me on, and don't be scared

It doesn't take that long.

I'll take a peek inside your head

And see where you belong!

        The applause is deffening as the hat closes it's brim.  Many of the students are screaming their house names, as if this is some sort of competition.

        Professor Dumbledore approaches the front of the stage, and the moment he does so, the yelling comes to an abrupt stop.

        "Let the sorting begin!" he says, his voice magically magnified, with a smile. He turns his head to look at me, and calls, "Strentrellex, Abigail."

        My feet drag as I mount onto the stage, getting onto my tip toes to hoist myself onto the wobbly wooden stool.  The hall is dead silent, not one whisper erupts across the room.  Taking a deep breath, I seize the hat and drop it onto my head.