The Other Weasley Sister (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 4: Houses, Announcements, & Past Aquaintances

(AUTHOR's NOTE: This chapter took me an unreasonable amount of time for me to finish, sorry. It's finally completed and it's sort of decent. Anyways, feedback is appreciated. Enjoy).

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As soon as the hat touched my head I flinched slightly, a few people at the tables laughing as I did.

"Ah!" said a voice loudly, causing me to flinch even more. I looked around for a moment and realized that it was the hat. "Ah a great mind you have indeed," drawled the hat. "You have potential, that much is certain. You are smart, maybe Ravenclaw will serve you well? No? Definitely not a Hufflepuff. Slytherin perhaps. You make rash decisions and are competitive beyond belief. But that could bring us back to Ravenclaw." I cringed.

NOT Slytherin. Oh for the love of God not Slytheryin, I thought. My parents would kill me.

"Not Slytherin? Not the first time I've heard that thought," the hat chuckled and paused. "Ah I see it now. You're a Weasley. The last one to be sorted. While I still think Ravenclaw would do you well, it better be GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed. I grinned ear to ear and stepped off the stool, handing the hat to professor McGonagall. The Gryffindor table burst into cheers and applause. The professors clapped respectably as well as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Slytherin just sat at their table, quiet and glaring. I walked down to the Gryffindor table and sat between Fred and George, who clapped me on the back.

"Not a surprise," George grinned. "Pay up," he said, sticking his hand out to Fred. Fred rolled his eyes, reached into his pocket, pulled out a few knuts, and dropped them into George's hand.

"Welcome to Gryffindor," said Hermione, smiling.

Nearly an hour later, all of the first years were sorted. Dumbledore stood from the professor's table.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said, smiling lightly. "Like always, stay out of the forbidden forest unless you wish to die a most terrible death." I cringed at this. "However, before the feast begins, I have a few announcements. Firstly, the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be going to Mad Eye Moody this year." We all turned to look towards the end of the professor's table, where a rather frightening looking man stood with a walking staff. He had greying hair down to his chin, wore a long old jacket, and had a mechanical eye. He scowled and Dumbledore went on.

"Secondly, there will be no Quidditch this year," everyone groaned loudly including myself and there were many disgruntled shouts.

"What the bloody hell for?!" I shouted slightly above everyone else. Dumbledore glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye and a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Dumbledore paused for a moment and then raised his hands. "Quiet, quiet. This is because, Miss Weasley, of the third and final announcement. This year, Hogwarts has the been chosen to host a legendary event. The Triwizard Tournament. The triwizard Tournament has been a tradition of the wizarding world for centuries. Three competitors compete for the prize, The Triwizard Cup." Dumbledore flourished his wand in the direction of a large statue. The outer layer slowly melted away to reveal a glowing, elaborately embellished cup. "Of course there will also be a monetary prize as well as why most enter; eternal glory," there were murmurs at this. "However I must advise you to enter at your own risk. The Ministry of Magic has also placed an age minimum of seventeen years on the competition." This statement got yells, some people (including Fred and George) standing up and shouting. Dumbledore raised his hands for silence once again.

"The Triwizard Tournament requires that wizards and witches from different schools compete. This means that this year Hogwarts will host two other schools." This statement peaked my interest. "For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France and their Headmistress Madame Olympe Maxine!" The doors of the Great Hall opened in walked a hundred girls in powder blue uniforms. In typical Beauxbatons fashion, they did a charm that produced butterflies, which began to fly around the Great Hall. I groaned.