Charms. | h. potter

003

The Sorting begins with an "Ackerly, Stewart" and Cameron can't help but tune out. In Second Year, she'd cheered for Ginny Weasley. In Third Year, she'd tuned out — more concerned with the food than the people. This year, she finds the same happening until Dennis Creevey is sorted.

"Creevey, Dennis."

He stumbles up, nearly tripping over the hem of Hagrid's coat. Almost as soon as the hat touches his head, it yells out a firm "GRYFFINDOR!" and the table erupts into cheers. The small boy potters along and sits next to his brother. They begin talking about he fell in the Lake as if it's the best thing ever and then Colin points out Harry. Cameron, sensing his embarrassment, leans forward to block the stares and mentions a cousin's friend who is called Dennis. Harry smiles gratefully and continues the conversation as the line gets smaller and McGonagall reaches the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron groans.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting is much more important than food," Nick says from beside them.

"'Course it is if you're dead," Ron snaps. Cameron covers her mouth to hide her laughter at the retort.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors is up to scratch," Nick says, ignoring Ron's bad attitude. "We wouldn't want to break our winning streak!"

"With Harry in our year? It's certain that we'll win every time because he always manages to pull off some magical heroism right at the end," Cameron jokes. Harry opens his mouth to argue but Cameron beats him to it. "First Year, you save the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort. Second Year, you save Ginny Weasley from that diary and the Basilisk, Third Year, you show great bravery when confronting — and then saving — Sirius Black. What's it gonna be this year, huh?" She almost, almost, lets the thought of him winning the Triwizard Tournament cross her mind but forces it down immediately. No need to jinx it.

He closes his mouth with a small grin. He only lets Cameron make fun of him in such a way. The Sorting comes to a close and she's almost sure that Ron's about to die from hunger, the way he seizes his cutlery. "About time."

Dumbledore stands, but seems to read the room rather well as he just raises his arms in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."

The empty golden plates at the centre of the table suddenly fill with an assortment of foods. Ron digs in faster than Cameron can process the food in front of her. As Ron speaks with a mouth full of food, Nick tells them how lucky they are.

"There was trouble in the kitchens earlier," he adds.

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" Harry asks through a chunk of steak. Cameron elbows him and he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." She shakes her head, but grins.

"Peeves of course," he says, shaking his translucent head so much that it wobbled dangerously. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast — well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilised, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council — the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance — but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

"Yeah, we got the idea that he was hacked off about something," Ron says darkly. "What did he do to the kitchens?"

"Oh, the usual," Nick shrugs. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits —"