Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 5:3

The Sorting Hat seemed to jump as it landed. Even the other teachers leaned forward to hear what it was thinking as the hat grunted with curiosity.

"Oh...how interesting..."

"What...what is it?" George sputtered.

"We haven't had twins at Hogwarts in over two decades. And pure-bloods? Hmm...what to do? What to do with you?" said the hat, pondering the boy's fate in the folds of its dusty frame. "Of course, you shouldn't be together. Twins never are. And you are strangely similar. Perhaps too similar. I could put you in the same house, but I wonder if that could be destructive...for everyone."

"I'll be good. I swear," George whispered sincerely. "Please, don't separate me from Fred. Please!"

"All right. If that's what you want," it said, perking up to a point as it prepared to announce the young wizard's house. "He's a GRYFFINDOR!!"

George exhaled a considerable sigh of relief. As he bounced into the crowd, the stool tumbled over and the Sorting Hat flew from his head. Dumbledore was clapping as Professor McGonagall reached out to grab it, laughing under tight lips. George celebrated with the other first years, and Fred looked at him with desperation in his eyes.

"Were you thinking what I was thinking?"

"I think I was!"

McGonagall silenced the room as she prepared to announce the final names. Two students, Johnson, Angelina and Diggory, Cedric, stood at the center of the Great Hall feeling alone and vulnerable because everyone had already been sorted. There were only two spots available — one for Hufflepuff, and one for Gryffindor — and although the twins liked Angelina, they were rooting for their best friend.

Cedric was called first, and looked just as eager to be placed in Gryffindor House with the twins. But when he was sent to Hufflepuff, it made watching Angelina's turn under the hat unnecessary. Since childhood, the three boys had planned to be in the same dormitory. It pained them to watch him trudge mournfully to the next table. Angelina Johnson, on the other hand, walked up to the stool and took her placement into Gryffindor with grace.

"The Sorting is complete!" Professor McGonagall sang as she removed the hat and stool. When the applause began to settle, another professor stood to welcome them.

"C-c-congratulations t-to you all," the man stammered. He bowed innocently to the rows of house tables, revealing the top of his purple turban. "My name is Profess-sor Quirrell. I wanted to be the f-first to welcome you to Hogwarts!" He paused to clap loudly with the other staff, before his timid voice continued. "And n-now, before we enjoy the feast, I would li-like to announce your headm-mmm-master."

The clapping grew louder as the faint-hearted professor took his seat. Then Albus Dumbledore rose exultantly from his immense golden throne.

"Thank you, Quirinus, for your gracious introduction," hummed the headmaster. "As the older students can recall, Professor Quirrell is enjoying a welcomed return after a sabbatical in Asia and Eastern Europe in preparation for his forthcoming appointment as the History of Magic professor. Rather than revisiting his position in Muggle Studies, in place of Professor Burbage, he will be teaching Enchantments to the first and second year students until Professor Binns is ready to leave his station and move on to...brighter endeavors."

Dumbledore gestured to the silvery-white ghost who hovered beside Professor Kettleburn at the end of the High Table. He was nearly lost in the man's cloud of steam. The ghost waved meekly at the students, denoting not only that he was Professor Binns, but that the 'brighter endeavor' likely had something to do with ending his time as a ghost.

The headmaster then peered sagely over his half-moon spectacles at the four house tables. "Welcome. All of you. We are grateful to have you here with us. At the start, I would like to dispel any rumors about Professor Allergen. As many of you are aware, a class demonstration went awry at the end of last term. He lost the use of his speech and sight, as well as his senses of hearing and taste, but he did not lose his mind, as is being claimed. I must tell you that, due to these rumors, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has yet to be filled. My apologies extend particularly to the seventh year students who are, without a doubt, eager to learn what they can before leaving Hogwarts. We hope to have an instructor within a few weeks. I request your patience until such time."

A mixture of groans and approval surged down the long house tables until Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. "Before we begin the feast, I would like to set a few rules, as I do each year at this time. Exploration of the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest to the west of the grounds is prohibited. There are dangerous beasts and all matters of darkness prowling between the trees. I cannot stress this enough," the headmaster pressed sternly, as the Weasley boys released a squeal of delight.

Dumbledore turned his attention to a man at the rear of the Great Hall dressed in soiled clothes, with sallow skin and a tangle of hair that would have been better suited on Scabbers, the family rat. His disturbed expression told the twins that he was someone to avoid. Accompanying him was a filthy cat with wild fur and blazing red eyes.

"Mister Filch is our caretaker. He will be watching and reporting to me daily if any one of you acts out of line. If you've read your acceptance letters carefully, you will know that at the end of each year we award the House Cup to those who gather the most points. By start of term there will be four hourglasses stationed in the Entrance Hall to measure progress in house colors. You can earn points for your house when good deeds and excellence are shown, and you can lose points as easily as you desire. If you would like to speak with Mister Filch for any reason, he has an office of his own, and is more than willing to share his time."

A growl of obvious disapproval belched from the caretaker's drooping mouth.

Dumbledore continued on about different areas of the school that students should avoid, like restricted sections of the library and the Whomping Willow tree on the front grounds (which only piqued Fred and George's interest), and finished by explaining that Quidditch matches would begin a month into the term.

"Now, without further ado..." he broke, clapping his hands together, "...the feast."

At that very moment, full platters of the most delicious food appeared on the tables in front of them. Golden goblets overflowed with pumpkin juice, while plates were instantly filled with an assortment of seared meats, roasted vegetables, puddings and cakes. All down the table, platters and bowls were spilling over with the finest delicacies in the wizarding world. As Lee Jordan dug in with a fork in each hand, the twins stared at the endless buffet and beamed.