The Hufflepuff Girl

Chapter 7

     McGonagall lead the march of first years down the center aisle which split the hall in two. To my right were students wearing the colors grey and blue, behind them they wore silver and green. On my left, the students wore burgundy and gold and the next table over, yellow and black. I made my way slowly down the aisle beside Angelina, keeping a sharp eye out for my brothers. I caught a glimpse of Emmanuel as I strolled past the people in burgundy, seeing him briefly smile at me. We all stopped in front of a long table, where the teachers all sat. At the head of the table, in the very center in a throne-like chair, sat an old man with a long white beard and a pointed, patterned hat.

     McGonagall motioned for us to gather around her, as she pulled a rickety stool upon which sat a tattered, old hat from behind a gold podium. I broke away from Angelina, making my way up towards Fred and George at the front of the cluster. They smiled at me when I reached them, slipping their hands into mine once more, for comfort, I assumed. McGonagall then pulled a scroll from inside her robes. She cleared her throat, effectively silencing any murmuring taking place around us. "When I call your name," she voiced into the silent room, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." Her square glasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly and she reached a bony hand up to adjust them. She grabbed the hat, pulling it from the chair as she read the first name, "Anna Arden."

     A small girl with short, black hair pushed her way through the small crowd of first years and took a step up to the stool. She sat herself down shakily, foot tapping against a rung. Slowly, McGonagall lowered the tattered cloth down onto Anna's head. We all squeaked when it spoke, low and almost menacing, "ah! What a brilliant mind you have." It hissed something else, something that I could not hear that had Anna's face paling. "Ravenclaw!" It exclaimed. Shouts erupted from the table wearing blue. That must be Ravenclaw, I thought with a chuckle. Anna jumped down from the stool, making her way towards the long table and finding a seat at the end.

     "Marcus Baker."

     A scrawny boy wearing glasses two sizes too big for his head strolled up to the stool, sitting almost proudly upon it. McGonagall placed the hat on his head and took a step away as it deliberated. "Hmm," it uttered, "hmm." I tapped my foot impatiently, the nerves I thought I had lost at Hogsmeade Station beginning to return. "Slytherin!" The hat shouted. The Slytherin table, the wearers of silver and green, broke out into whoops and hollers as the sickly looking boy hopped down off the stool.

     "Habib Begham," said McGonagall with a pointed look down at us.

     The twins gave my hands a comforting squeeze, whispering to me kind and encouraging words to calm my nerves as the boy took to the stool and had the hat sat upon his head. It didn't take hardly a moment for the hat to scream out, "Gryffindor!" Burgundy and gold jumped out of their seats as the boy on the stool made his way to them. I could only hope I got such a reaction.

     "Belle Black." I turned my head at the sound of McGonagall's voice, eyes widening. I felt the twins hands in mine go stiff, tightening their grip. Black? My name is not Black! I thought with a scowl. "Belle Black," she repeated, looking down at the crowd of us first years. "Belle Black." I could hear the stress now that she put on the words, she was getting angry.

     "It's Harrison," I finally said, dropping the twins hands (which was fairly difficult considering that they both had quite the hold on me) and stepping forward. The crowd of first years parted like the Red Sea as I stood face-to-kneecap with Professor McGonagall. "Belle Harrison is my name."

     McGonagall checked her list once more, shaking her head. "It says Black right here."

     "Yes," I replied, "it's wrong. My name's not Black."