Chapter 6 - The Sorting Ceremony

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01/09/1991

As Mcgonagall waltzed in the Great Hall, every first-year seemed glued to her. Nobody would dare disturb anyone. You looked around, heart speeding up in greater anticipation. Candles were floating above you, releasing a light smell of wax. The walls had beautifully coloured windows although they held a certain amount of dirt, considering the fact that the castle was old. Every student had a plate stationed in front of them. Some looked like they were impatient to eat while other students were staring directly at the crowd of new pupils, and it made you nervous. You were about to be sorted in front of everyone, and all of their eyes will be on you, which was a thought that made your stomach bubble in anxiety. You could hear Hermione ramble behind you.

"It's not real, the ceiling," she started and you looked back at her. You were not sure whether she was talking to the girl besides her or to herself. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," she finished. You too knew that, as your parents have not ceased to practically shove your face in your school books ever since you got them.

Ron turned to you while you followed the deputy headmistress.

"Thank you for defending me back there... I'm Ron Weasley," he said, extending his hand towards you.

You took his hand and gladly shook it, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You told him your name. "And don't worry about it. If you're friends with my friends–" you gestured to Harry, " –then you're my friend too," you finished.

Ron's face beamed in delight. Your small conversation was cut short by everyone coming to a stop, making you look at Mcgonagall standing next to a pointy hat resting on top of a chair in the front of the Great Hall.

"All right, will you wait along here, please?" she questioned, making an area for the first-years with a scroll in her hand. Everyone complied. "Now, before we begin–" Dumbledore, who you have barely noticed, stood up. Seeing him with your own eyes, he looked much older and his white hair seemed to be practically glowing under the light of the candles. " –Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

There was a slight silence of anticipation from everyone before the old wizard spoke.

"I have a few short-term notices I wish to announce," he said, licking his lips before continuing, "The first-years, please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students," he said, looking at the Weasley twins. "Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch–" he gestured to a man in the back of the room with long, dirty hair, " – has asked me to remind you the the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death," he said as if he was stating the obvious. A look of discomfort made its way on every student's face. "Thank you," he finished cordially, sitting down.

The room went calm and first-years were suddenly startled as the Sorting Hat began 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 tops 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 will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

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