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The group of anxious soon-to-be first years were stopped in front of a pair of large double doors, a familiar stern-faced witch standing in front of them.
"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. While you're here, your House will be your home, and your Housemates will be your family," said McGonagall. Neppie smiled at her, giving a little wave. McGonagall didn't wave back, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. Very very slightly. But that was good enough for Neppie. Her smile turned into a beam and Thomas became confused on why his new friend was suddenly so happy. She didn't bother answering his unasked question and only turned to him again when McGonagall went into the double doors.
"Do you know her?" Thomas whispered. "Yes," Neppie whispered back. "She's very nice." Thomas doubted that. "You're an odd one," he said. Neppie giggled. "I try my best."
The doors opened again, and out came McGonagall. "We're ready for you now," she said.
Neppie took a deep breath and latched onto Thomas's sleeve, careful to avoid his skin, no longer able to repress the nerves that had been growing for the past month. The Great Hall was filled with students older than her, students who had been to school and learned things— students who had good families to leave to. Students who hadn't been locked in attics for days at a time. Students who knew how to be students— and they were all around her.
Neptune was shoved into the Hall with the rest of the uneasy first years, and she pressed herself even closer to Thomas. To her great relief, he didn't seem to mind; he didn't even acknowledge it. (The feeling of him against her made her so, so uncomfortable, and her skin was itching and Not Right and she wanted to tear it off, but everything else around her was almost so much worse.)
The quiet buzzing of nervous whispers floated through the Hall, but Neptune stayed silent. Her eyes were latched onto Professor McGonagall, who was holding an old brown witch-looking hat. Its brim was ripped and torn, and there was an obvious seem going straight across the middle. Above the din of the Hall and her own horrible thoughts, Neppie vaguely wondered what in the world someone like McGonagall was doing with a hat like that.
"Silence, please!" called the woman standing on the raised platform, and immediately everyone obeyed. All eyes turned to McGonagall, awaiting her instructions— but the off-key voice that boomed across the room didn't come from her.
Neppie started once she realised that it was the Hat that was speaking from the sewn-up seem across its middle, and not only was it speaking— it was singing.
Neppie listened in awe as the grimy old Hat belted out to the Hall.
Of Gryffindor it sang, who were brave and just. Slytherin came next, where ambition was a must. Ravenclaw proceeded, a House so witty and wise, and Hufflepuff took the end, it's students loyal till their demise.
