Out of The Shadows (Golden Trio Era) {1}

The Sorting Hat's Song

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped, narrowly missing Mikayla and Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. They looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist. His face contorted maliciously as he concentrated on aiming a balloon again. "PEEVES!" An angry voice yelled. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, her emerald green robes rumpled and a stern look on her face, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and, before grabbed Mikayla around the neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch sorry, Miss Black" "It's all right, Professor McGonagall." Mikayla grumbled, massaging the front of her aching throat. "Peeves, get down here NOW!" Professor McGonagall barked, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed glasses. "Not doing nothing!" Peeves cackled, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeee!" And he aimed another balloon hitting Mikayla on the top of the head, she gasped at the contact. "I shall call the headmaster." Professor McGonagall shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves" Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water balloons into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely. "Well, move along, then!" Professor McGonagall said sharply to the disheveled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!" The foursome slipped and skidded across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Mikayla was muttering some foul curse words as she moved her sopping wet hair out of her face.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. The foursome
walked past the Slytherins, sending death glares at Draco for what happened on the train. They passed the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. "Good evening," he said, beaming at us. "Says who?" Harry asked grumpily, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving." Mikayla nodded in agreement with Ron as her stomach growled at her.

"Hiya, Harry!" Harry and Mikayla looked up to see who had called Harry's name and saw that it was Colin Creevey, "Hi, Colin." Harry greeted wearily. "Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!" "Er, good." Harry muttered. "He's really excited!" Colin said, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?" "Er, yeah, all right." Harry nodded before turning back to Hermione, Ron, Nearly Headless Nick, and Mikayla, a reluctant look on his face. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" "Not necessarily." Mikayla answered looking over at Avery, "Yeah but she isn't your blood." Ron added, Mikayla gave him a weird look, "The sorting hat reads your thoughts not your blood. We thought we were twins and it put us in rival houses." Ron nodded apologetically, Hermione decided to give another example, "Parvati Patil's twin, Padma, is in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?" Harry nodded, realising that there was no fact to his thoughts.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked suddenly, looking up at the staff table. Mikayla followed her gaze and looked at the staff table. Professor McGonagall was missing, presumably waiting for the first years, Hagrid's chair was empty as well, as he was escorting the first years over the lake, but there was one more empty chair, which was probably for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" Hermione said, looking anxious.

Mikayla looked up at the ceiling, it's enchanted to look like the sky outside, Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. "Oh hurry up," Ron moaned from beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If the foursome were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swam across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school, all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what I recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it. Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago, When I was newly sewn, There lived four wizards of renown, Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, They hatched a daring plan, To educate young sorcerers, Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders, Formed their own house, for each, Did value different virtues, In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were, prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest, would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were, most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin, loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide, their favorites from the throng, yet how to pick the worthy ones, when they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, he whipped me off his head, the founders put some brains in me, so I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears, I've never yet been wrong, I'll have a look inside your mind and tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. "That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," Harry said as we clapped along with everyone else. "Sings a different one every year," Ron told him. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one." Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool. "RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted.