Thomas Cloverleigh Echos of the Past (Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 9 - Sorted

"There yours now Professor Walker." His red hair swayed when he gave the Professor a short bow. Professor Walker was a tired looking man with his hair shined and slicked back with wax — sighed. Looking at all them with dead brown eyes. What struck Thomas the most was his missing left ear lobe. What in the world happened to it?

"Thank you Asad." Turning with another sigh, he disappeared into the large wood doors. Leaving his voice behind him."Follow me."

"Good luck." Asad said to them, nodding to them and disappearing into the dark of the school grounds. Thomas followed Lars and walked with the other first years in a river of back flowing robes. Flagstone floors felt hard under Thomas's feet. Flaming torches lighting the halls did little to stop the chill crawling up his ups. Shivering Thomas looked around in awe. He was in a castle, a real life working castle!

"Welcome to Hogwarts budding witches and wizards." Professor Walker stopped the at the top of a set of stairs. Turning his brown robes flared around him, and his wide brim hat creating a shadow on his face.

"While you are here. Hogwarts will be your second home." Folding his arms across his chest he continued. "Your house will be like your family. Us professors will be your guardians, watching over you as you grow." "Like all families we have our rules. Following them will award you points." His head nodded when he spoke, Thomas imagine he could nod off to sleep at any time.

"Points get automatically collected in giant hourglasses. They're set in niches along one wall in a corner of the entrance hall record the points for all to see. Gryffindor's has rubies for points. Ravenclaw's with sapphires, Hufflepuff's with diamonds, and Slytherin's with emeralds." Professor Walker's eyes narrowed. Thomas saw him glare a hole into some whispering students. "These precious stones are under guard of powerful spells."

"What is given can be taken away too." The whispering in front of the professor stopped, and he went back to his sleepy demeanour. "Points accumulate over the course of the school year. At the end of which a House Cup is awarded to the house with the most. A prize cherished by all houses."

"I am Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin House and your Transfiguration Professor. You may call me Professor Walker." Heaving a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll be right back for you. Try not to burn down the stairs." He slid into the door and disappeared inside it.

"First years!" A zipping of cold came whirling overhead. Thomas looked up and saw a man who looked like an old, but poor court jester. His clothes were all patched up, right down to the three bells hat. Swirling around cackling as he pleased. Thomas could see right through him! A shimmering white spectre, right from the pages of a famous poet.

"Nice," Thomas whispered thinking of one of his favourite poems. More amazed than scared, Thomas wondering what guilt kept the jester's soul lingering.

"There's one for each house too." Lars mummer-ed to him from his side. Thomas's look at him, surprised. Did they keep ghosts here on purpose? Or did witches and wizards turned into ghosts more often after death?

"He's Peeves — a poltergeist not a ghost." Bernard whispered. His eyes not leaving the spinning spectre.

"What's the difference?" Pipa asked, when the ghost, or poltergeist came up and behind Pipa and tugged on her hair.

"Ow!" Pipa swatted at him but her hands went right through, and Pipa shivered so hard. Thomas swore he saw her lips flicker blue.

"What does it matter what I am to you little firsty year?" He blew a raspberry at her.

"Leave her alone." Lars spoke up standing for Pipa. Peeves turned and stared right at Thomas, and Thomas learned that even a ghost could turn pale.