Heart of Gold

The Sorting

~Tessa's POV~

After we got off the train, we got on boats with Hagrid.

We went across the river and to a ginormous and beautiful castle. It was like nothing I've ever seen.

"Wow it's beautiful" I whispered to Harry. He nodded in agreement.

Soon we docked and were led into a giant entrance hall.

"Wow this place is huge..." I mumbled.

"No kidding" Harry mumbled back

I looked around and saw a certain platinum haired boy staring at me. I gave him a confused look.

He immediately adverted his eyes and busied himself with talking to the two brutes standing next to him.

The professor who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall came into the entrance hall. She explained to us that we would be sorted in front of the school.

I immediately grasped Harry's hand, nervous. I could tell by his expression that he was feeling the same. How would we be sorted? Was there a test? What if we didn't get sorted at all? What if we were in different houses?

These worries circled my mind endlessly until Professor McGonagall led us into the Great Hall.

Inside were four tables, each held easily two hundred students. There were banners hanging from the ceiling and candles floating above the tables. The ceiling looked as though it looked straight through to the night sky. It was a beautiful sight

McGonagall led us to the front of the hall. She grabbed a stool from the side and brought it to the center. On top of the stool she placed an old, worn down hat.

"When I call your name you will come up and put on the sorting hat" she said loudly. She began calling names.

After a while, McGonagall yelled "Hermione Granger!" The girl from the train bounded up the stairs and sat on the stool. The hat was silent for a moment before it shouted "GRYFFINDOR"

Beside me, Ron groaned.

"Draco Malfoy!" The Platinum haired boy strutted up to the stool and sat down. The hat was barely placed on his head when it yelled "SLYTHERIN!"

After a few dozen names, McGonagall finally called "Harry Potter!" The hall fell silent as all eyes fell on my brother.

I heard a few whispers. "Potter? Harry Potter?" "Is Tessa with him as well?"

I shrank down a little, trying to hide.

Harry sat on the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head. The hat was silent for a moment. Then after what felt like forever it yelled "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry grinned and went to the Gryffindor table. He looked at me and gave me a thumbs up. I gave him a grateful smile. From the Gryffindor table, Fred and George Weasley were heard chanting "we got Potter!"

"Tessa Potter!"

More whispers came as I nervously went and sat on the stool.

I saw many eyes on me. I met Harry's eyes before the hat fell over mine.

A voice sounded in my ear.

"Hmm a very smart mind.. a bright personality.. kind heart. You would prosper in any house.."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I desperately wanted to be in the same house as my brother. It was always us against the world.

"I sense that you don't want to be on your own. It's true that you and your twin will prove to be stronger together.. might as well be GRYFFINDOR!"

I sighed with relief as I went to join my brother at the Gryffindor table. The Weasley Twins yelled again "We've got both Potters! Yeah!"

I hugged Harry as I sat down.

Ron's name was called at the end and he was placed in Gryffindor as well.

I grinned at the people around me. I met eyes with Draco and saw a bit of disappointment on his face. I tilted my head slightly.

Then my scar stung painfully. Both Harry and I winced in pain. We looked at each other then around the room.

I met the eyes of one of the professors. He was looking at us with a cold stare.

"Um.. Percy? Who's that professor talking to Professor Quirrel?" I asked Percy Weasley

"That is Professor Snape, the potions master." He said to me.

I nodded as I rubbed my scar. I looked at Harry and he shrugged.

We wouldn't let this bother us.

This was going to be a great year.

A/N: okay so I sorted them but I'm not gonna do the first year I'm gonna do the duel in the second year and then I'mma just skip to the third year. Twelve and Eleven are waaaaay too young to be in love. 13 is a bit more appropriate I guess.