Your Father Won't Hear About This (Drarry)

Sorting Ceremony Results

As Hagrid, the gatekeeper, had walked away after exchanging a few words with the one he called Professor McGonagall, all the students followed her into a grand entranceway, the ceilings too high to see and magnificent marble making up the staircase. The walls of stone shone in the list of the torches, making everything about the school even more mysterious.

All the students began to follow Professor McGonagall, not knowing what else to do because she had already began walking.

She led the students into a large chamber where doors, almost as great as the entrance doors, stood with beautiful designs that made you stare in awe, no matter what you've seen in the past that you thought was marvelous.

As she turned around she began introductions. She explained a bit about classes and houses but Draco didn't need to know anything about the houses, he already knew for certain what house he was going to be in. All the generations of Malfoy's, as far as anyone could remember except for a few strays, had gone in the Slytherin house for their cunning nature. That wasn't just about to change now.

She then spoke about house points and the House Cup that was awarded at the end of the year. So far, as Draco had been hearing, Slytherin has been unbeaten for a while now.

"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."
Professor McGonagall let her eyes stray and they settled a bit too long on the Longbottom boy and the wretched Weasley boy before looking away.
"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

And she left them alone in the chamber.

Draco straightened himself up, back straight, heels together, shoulders square, and hands at his sides. This was the big moment, the one moment that would determine where he would always stand, what he would always be or at least be seen as. This moment.

Around Draco students were talking quietly to each other, speaking in only whispers and wondering what would be behind the gigantic doorway. The students obviously didn't know that they would be sorted into their houses by a hat.

Draco's mother Narcissa had already informed him of what lay ahead of him. The whole school would be watching as their names were read off of a large roll of parchment. They would sit in the small wooden stool with a hat placed on their head. The hat wandering through their minds, already having a brief idea of what their future is going to be what their past was and who they are in the present. It is that, including actions, not just the personality that plays in, that determines what house you are going to be in.

But then he heard a scream to his right. He turned and what he saw brought chills to his body and he gasped.

About 20 ghostly figures just streamed through the back wall of the chamber. They were pearly white and slightly transparent and they glided across the room and were talking to one another but they didn't even spare a glance at the first years.

"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?"

Nobody answered him.

"New students," said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted I suppose?"

Only a couple first years nodded, Draco being one.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall who had just returned, Draco straightening his back even more. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
As she said that the ghosts floated away, passing through the opposite wall of where they came from.
"Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGonagall told them and they did so.