ғʀᴇᴀᴋɪsʜʟʏ ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ × 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

Sex - Muggleborn Witch - VI

    "THERE are a lot less students than I thought there would be... why is that?" Ariadne thinks offhandedly, glancing around the beautiful great hall. Hermione walked behind her and Neville walked in front of her.

  "It's more beautiful than it was described. Such a disservice," Hermione comments breathlessly, glancing up at the enchanted ceiling. It showed the beautiful night sky–without any light pollution–and it was possibly one of the most beautiful things Ariadne has ever seen.

  Professor McGonagall stops them right in front of the staff's table before taking out a four-legged stool and placing it in front, facing the four long tables filled with students.

  Ariadne scrunches her nose slightly when the professor places a pointed wizard's hat on top. It was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty. She could see the dirt and the stains from where she stood. Her heart jumped in fright when the hat started moving on its own, forming a mouth in a rip near the brim.

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
That the Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will 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,
Where they 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 safe in my hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

  "...did–did it just... sing?" Hermione states almost silently. Ariadne nods dumbly, staring at the bowing hat with wide eyes. The great hall was filled with clapping and cheers from everyone, the first years a bit hesitant.

  Professor McGonagall steps forward, holding out a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted. Abbott, Hannah."

  "It's–his?–song said it–he could read our thoughts to place us in the house we belong in?" Ariadne frowns at the new information, staring at it distrustfully as it is placed on top of a pink flushed girl with blonde pigtails.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

  "Bones, Susan." Bones? Only one first year with an 'A' surname?

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

  "Boot, Terry."

"RAVENCLAW!"

  "Brocklehurst, Mandy."

"RAVENCLAW!"

  "Brown, Lavender!"