The Spiteful Sorting Hat

The potions master

"Enough beauty rest, Harry! Time to start our magical education!"

Harry awoke the next day to Blaise's loud voice and the sound of his bed curtains being forcefully ripped open. He was surprised that the morning sun didn't immediately blind him, until he remembered that he was sleeping under a lake. There were enchanted flames burning in sconces set around the room, but the murky light coming in from the windows cast an eerie green glow over everything.

Despite his odd dreams, Harry felt completely refreshed. Today he would start learning magic. He hurriedly pulled on his school robes while Blaise checked over his appearance in an old, ornate mirror fixed to the wall.

"Where are they?" Harry asked, nodding toward the empty beds of Malfoy and his two cronies.

"Followed some third-years down to breakfast. Draco seems to think he's cut out for the Quidditch team and wanted to ask about try-outs, but he's deluding himself. They'll never accept a first-year."

Blaise stopped his preening and met Harry's eyes in the reflection of the mirror before adding, "I'm surprised he didn't wake you, they way he kept prattling on. To tell the truth, I think he was hoping you'd hear him. Probably wanted to impress you."

"Why would he want to impress me?" Harry asked, choosing to leave his questions about Quidditch for a later time.

"Are you for real?" Blaise replied.

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this, so he simply joined Blaise by the mirror and made a few feeble attempts to flatten his unruly hair.

"Oh, just leave it, Harry!" Blaise demanded, "It looks better like that, anyway! The last thing you want is to be another Draco Malfoy. He spent forever getting his hair perfectly adhered to his scalp this morning."

Harry did not need long to decide that Blaise was absolutely right, and soon they were headed down to the common room. A group of first-years were gathered around Gemma Farley and a dour-looking prefect boy. Gemma gave a loud shout and waved cheerfully when she saw Harry, which drew a number of stares from the waiting first-years. The other prefect scowled at him, though Harry had no idea what he could have done to offend him.

"Fantastic!" cried Gemma, "That's Harry Potter joining us! Now off to the Great Hall with all of you!"

Harry realized Gemma must have had everyone waiting for him before they could leave, and he could feel his face redden. In the midst of his embarrassment, his eye traveled naturally to Millicent Bulstrode. It was hard not to see her. She was easily the biggest person in their group, taller and broader than even the fifth-year prefect boy. Gemma, who was very short for fifteen, stood at least a foot shorter than Millicent.

Harry caught her eye and smiled, offering a friendly hello. He had not forgotten the support she had given him against Malfoy the night before. Millicent looked confused an uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but she returned his greeting cordially.

Harry felt Blaise nudge him in the ribs.

"Harry," he whispered as the group funneled into the hall and began making their way toward breakfast, "What are you doing?"

"What?"

"Saying hi to Bulstrode like that!"

"Oh. I was just being friendly."

"But why?"

"Is it wrong to be nice to Bulstrode?"

"Not exactly," Blaise admitted, though his exasperation was evident in his tone, "But she's not very pretty, is she?"

Harry had to concede that Blaise was right. Harry had seen very few girls who reminded him so strongly of his cousin Dudley. But he didn't see what that had to do with showing a little kindness to one of the few people who wasn't either glaring or gawking at him.