Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Sixteen: The Sorting Hat

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Weasley, breaking the anxious silence.

"Some sort of test, I think," Weasley replied. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

My heart gave a horrible jolt.

A test — in front of the whole school?! But I only know a few basic spells, and most people probably don't know any at all! What'll I have to do?!

I looked around, and saw that everyone else looked terrified too, even Draco. No one was talking much, except Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned, and wondering which one she'd need. I almost smiled at that, but stopped myself just in time.

Professor McGonagall soon returned, and the anxious silence settled over us once again.

"Now, form a line, and follow me," she instructed us.

We did as she said, and I found myself with Pansy in front of me, and Draco behind. By now, my anxiety was so bad that I completely froze when the line started to move, and Draco had to gently push me to get me to follow the people in front out of the room, back across the Entrance Hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

This room was far, far larger than any room I had been in before, even the ballroom at our manor. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles, which were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets, though all of these were empty. At the top of the hall was another long table, where the professors were sitting.

Professor McGonagall led us up to this table, so that we came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the students, with the professors behind us. The hundreds of faces staring at us looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight, and dotted between them were ghosts, shining a misty silver. I suddenly remembered reading about the ceiling being bewitched to look like the sky outside, and looked up to see for myself. Sure enough, it was velvety black, and scattered with starts, much like the ceiling in Draco's bedroom.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," I heard Hermione whisper, and I realised that a lot of the other first-years were looking up at it as well. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

I quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of us. On top of this, she put a pointed wizarding hat, though it was so old that it had lost some of its shape, and started to sag in places. It was also patched, frayed, and extremely dirty, but everyone seemed to be staring at it with great interest, so I decided to do so too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched; a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth... and then it started to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

"You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,
And I can cap them all.

"There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I'll tell you
Where you ought to be.

"You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart;
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart.

"You might belong in Hufflepuff,
If you are just and loyal;
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,
And unafraid of toil.

"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind;
Where those of wit and learning
Will always find their kind.

"Or perhaps in Slytherin,
You'll make your real friends;
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none),
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables, and then became quite still again. I could tell the rest of the first-years were relieved that all you had to do to get sorted was put on a hat, but I was even more anxious than I had been before its song. One of the lines kept echoing in my mind.

"There's nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can't see..."

What if it saw how Father treated Mother and me? What if it told someone?! Father would easily talk (or bribe) his way out of any trouble, and I would be punished worse than ever before...

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down with the rest of the Hufflepuffs.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers. "Bulstrode, Millicent" (a Half-Blood, but from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight) became a Slytherin, and the table second from the right cheered this time.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, I noticed, the Sorting Hat shouted out the house at once, but with others, it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus" sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. I held my breath.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I gave a soft, sad sigh. I'd been expecting it — that or Ravenclaw — but all the same, it was disappointing that we definitely wouldn't be able to talk to each other unless it was the holidays now.

When "Longbottom, Neville", the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag".

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Draco swaggered forward and got his wish almost at once — the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Malfoy, Pandora!"

I took a deep breath and walked forwards, sitting on the stool with barely-concealed anxiety. The hat dropped down over my eyes, and everything was plunged into darkness.

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Word count: 1212