But there was no Headmistress Sprout. Heads craned this way and that all around the Great Hall from every House table, searching for her flyaway hair and jovial features, but they were nowhere to be found. Most of the other teachers were already seated at the High Table at the top of the room, except for Hagrid, whom had been ferrying the new students across the lake, and Professor Longbottom, whom was at that moment leading said youngsters through the Hall and toward the High Table, in front of which had been placed a short wooden stool.
"What d'you reckon?" Martin Finnigan, a fellow Gryffindor a year below them, hissed across their table.
Rose shrugged. "Dunno. Has she been sacked?"
"Come off it," Lily gasped, eyes rather wider than usual. "She's a good headmistress, they can't have done... can they?"
Hardly daring believe they could, Albus glanced over at Professor Longbottom's usually cheery face to find it was pale and set, which only served to make the pale scars seem deeper and more shadowy; though he hadn't been in her House, Sprout had been something of a mentor to him in his school days. His movements were also a bit rigid as he placed upon the stool an extremely old, fraying wizard's hat. Within moments, a rip near the brim opened wide, and as it had done the past four years, it began singing.
"Good eve, you students new and old,
And welcome to our school,
Where knowledge hums within the walls
And magic is its tool.
At Hogwarts, you will learn the ways
Of wizarding and life,
And perhaps some wisdom throughout
All the toil and strife.
You may be thinking, 'what is this?
Why is this hat's voice ringing?'
The answer's to reveal my lot
Through verses I am singing.
My duty is to size you up,
It always has been so,
And place you in the Houses where
I think you ought to go.
Brave Gryffindors up in their tower,
Daring, bold, and true;
Sharp Ravenclaws across the way,
Their clever minds aren't few;
Good Hufflepuffs, near to the earth,
Display their hearts of gold;
And Slytherins, so sly within
Their dungeon, dank and cold.
It is between these four I must
Deliberate and choose -
But realise, with any House
You surely shall not lose.
Within each common room you'll find
A common understanding,
And bonds so strong they'll help you through
Even the most demanding.
Through work and play, you'll spend the day
With sister and with brother,
Though don't forget, each House should never
Disregard another.
Alas, with this last part, I find
I waste my breath and song -
The Houses stay divided, though our
Tenure has been long.
Perhaps remember this when next
Opposing groups are meeting,
But I digress, and take up time
You could spend better eating.
My job is not to judge or change
The way we treat our kin.
This old hat's tune is sung, so
Let the Sorting now begin!"
As the Sorting Hat took a bow, the students broke into half-hearted applause, clearly still wondering why the seat at the centre of the staff table remained empty. Albus was on point of leaning across to resume this conversation when he saw Professor Longbottom unfurling the scroll containing the list of first-years about to be Sorted.
"Ashmore, Brian!"
A pudgy boy with light-brown hair that stuck up at the back moved toward the stool, shaking like a leaf as he lowered the hat onto his head. For a moment, nothing happened - then, the rip reopened and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The table next to theirs exploded with cheers as the boy, faint with relief, ran to join his fellows.
And so the Sorting went, and the students became increasingly and noticeably anxious - what were they going to do without a headmaster or headmistress? Albus tried to catch Hagrid's eye when he edged into the room, but he was already deep in conversation wtih Professor Firenze, the Divination teacher. Eventually, when "Zane, Jasper" became a Gryffindor, Professor Longbottom removed the hat and stool and took his usual seat at the table, and the room waited on pins and needles to find out what was going on. Finally, the ancient and tiny Professor Flitwick sprang to his feet - something only noticeable to the students whom had already been taking Charms for a few years and knew how short he really was.
YOU ARE READING
Chimaera Of Judgement
FanfictionAlbus Potter has dealt with bullying from bunkmates and his brother throughout his years, and little else of consequence. Now he and Rose are entering year five, and he finds himself wishing for more excitement and fewer annoyances... but only the f...
