From The Beginning (Dramione)

Realizing A Mistake

Hermione stood, staring straight ahead at where the boy had disappeared. She wanted to go and find him again, yet she knew there was no point. He had already said it. He couldn't speak to her. He was above her. She scowled. He was too good to talk to her? Fine. She didn't need to talk to him.

She lifted her chin, not allowing a trace of doubt to show in her expression. At first, she attempted to find Harry and Ron again, but she quickly stopped. She was tired of looking for people. All day long, she had been looking for somebody. And had anybody looked for her? No.

She almost laughed at herself. Just one day of trying, and she was already exhausted. Maybe this is why you never had any friends.

Hermione shook the thought away. Who needed friends? She had made it eleven years without having any real friends. She could still do it. There were more important things. She would focus on school, just like she always had. If they really cared, they would come to her, and she would gladly accept their friendship. But she was tired of hunting for it.

"Attention!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the crowd. She had the kind of voice that made everybody do as she said, and a look that matched. Her dark, graying hair was pulled into a tight bun and the square glasses that she looked at the students through sat on the tip of her nose.

"Now that all of the students have been seated, we shall begin the Sorting. Each of you will be sorted into one of four houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. You will share a common room with your house mates, and a dormitory with four of your same gender and year. Everybody understand?"

Many of the First Years nodded, and a few muttered, "Yes, ma'am."

Professor McGonagall nodded curtly. "Follow me," she said, then turned around and walked stiffly through the arched doorway into the front of the Great Hall. Upon their entrance, the Great Hall went silent and the First Years wriggled awkwardly as they felt the eyes of the hundreds of wizards and witches in front of them, staring at them.

On top of a wooden stool was an old, tattered hat that Hermione immediately recognized as the Sorting Hat.

Hermione hid herself behind the rest of her class and tried her hardest not to focus on the crowd, only tuning in to make sure her name hadn't been called yet. "Abbot, Hannah!" McGonagall called sharply, then placed the tattered hat on the nervous girl's head. Hermione tuned out again, realizing that she was calling names in alphabetical order.

She looked up at the ceiling and stared in wonder at the starry sky it showed. She recited the paragraph she had read about it in Hogwarts: A History.

The ceiling in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is enchanted so that it will look identical to the sky above it.

"Bones, Susan!"

Hermione looked all over the place, reciting ever fact she could remember about the Great Hall. She looked at the doors and wondered where everything else she had read about was. The moving stairs, the talking pictures, the rooms where she would learn and the room where she would sleep. And to think, she would know that in just a few minutes.

Finally, Hermione thought about the moment in front of her. Where would she be sorted? According to everything she'd read, the Sorting was based on what the person valued. When Hermione read this, she was glad that there was hat to sort her, because she honestly didn't know what she valued most. Bravery? Wit? Kindness? Ambition? All of these were important to Hermione, and she could never have tried to sort herself.

She must have lost herself in thought longer than before, because what broke this train of thought was the calling of her name.

Her head turned swiftly toward McGonagall. With wide eyes and shaking limbs, Hermione made her way over to the stool. She sat down and McGonagall placed the hat on Hermione's head. Even though she had been expecting it, she still started slightly when she heard the hat's voice in her ear.