Voldemort's Daughter

3. Sorting Hat and Its Song

3. Sorting Hat and Its Song

The three seventh years left the witch to be sorted. She stood outside awkwardly amongst students several years younger than she. She was watching ghosts float through the walls when a small boy tapped on her arm. She turned to look at him; he smiled up at her with bright blue eyes.

"Hi," he said shyly. "I'm Jason."

"Hi, Jason." Rosa said sweetly to the child. "I'm Rosa."

"You're pretty." The child said, his face turning red with embarrassment. Rosa chuckled softly and kissed the boy's forehead. He gasped and looked up at the witch.

"Thank you, Jason." She laughed. The boy nodded his head vigorously and scampered off to gloat to his friends.

The witch smiled as she saw the boy happily tell his friends. The other boys looks jealous, which made Rosa chuckle to herself.

"Listen up students!" called a stern voice. Every voice was hushed and every eye turned to Professor McGonogall.

"You will be call in alphabetical order. You will step up, get Sorted then go to your respective table. Line up!" the first years scrambled to get in line, eager to start their time at the magical school.

"Rosa, dear." McGonogall said to the young witch. "I shall sort the first years, then I will call your name last. Don't worry, it will be fine."

"Yes ma'am." Rosa said quietly, she nodded nervously.

"Don't be nervous, honey." The older witch said with a smile.

"What if I'm not in your house?" Rosa asked anxiously; she knew the old witch wanted her prize student to be sorted into her house.

"Then I'll ship you back to you mother." The witch replied with a wink.

"But-"

"I'm just kidding, dear." The old witch smiled, then departed from the corridor.

Minutes later, the doors opened to the Great Hall and the first years marched in. Every eye in the hall was on the sixteen year old first year at the end of the line.

The old professor sat a stool in front of the group, then on top of it she placed and old, worn out hat. It sat still for a moment, every eye watching it. Then suddenly, a tear appeared, like a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

"With my patches and my tears,

I must be quite a sight,

But when it comes to sorting students

No hat could be more bright!

Our founders sought to teach the young

Good magical technique,

But though they shared a common goal,

Their values were unique.

In the past our four good founders

Taught their favorites with good grace,

And now I am in charge to find

Each student's proper place.

Perhaps you'll go to Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave and daring;

Or make your way in Hufflepuff,

Hardworking, just and caring;

You might be fit for Slytherin,

Where cunning is admired;