A/N: So writing this story has illuminated some interesting holes in the books, foremost of which is the state of Hermione's dorm following the sorting. It is said that each dormitory has five beds, but that does not necessarily mean all of them are filled every year. For Hermione's year, known Gryffindor girls are herself, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil. That leaves two empty beds, and there are two names that remain unaccounted for following the sorting in the first book. One is Sally-Anne Perks, sorted just before Harry-she seems disappear between the first and fifth books, though, because her name is not called for OWLs. Another is given only a surname: Moon. According to the Lexicon, the first three letters of Moon's first name appeared on a class list JK once had with her during an interview, and they are "Lil". However, Moon is also not called during OWLs. So, I have decided that the fourth and fifth girls in Hermione's dorm are Sally-Anne Perks and Lily Moon. What role they will play, and whether or not they both withdraw sometime before OWLs (perhaps after Dumbledore tells them Voldemort returned at the end of fourth year), I have not decided yet. But I just wanted all of you to understand where the names come from.
Chapter Five
Late Summer 1991
Three seconds passed and then the doors swung inward. There was a woman with dark hair and emerald robes waiting just inside, and I immediately recognized her as Professor McGonagall. She surveyed us for several moments-her stern gaze was much more professional than how she had looked at my house-and I thought for just a brief instant she met my eyes. Perhaps not, but I had already met her, so I wasn't nearly as intimidated as many other students looked just then.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the huge man said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," McGonagall said. The man called Hagrid nodded and strode through the doors, past her, and off to the right.
"This way," she said, and motioned with her hand for us to follow her. She turned and we moved as one in the same direction. I stifled a gasp as I passed into the entrance hall, though, because of how exquisitely beautiful it was. It was incredibly large-I had to strain to make out the details of the ceiling masonry-and very well-lit by many torches, burning merrily in their wall sconces. Off to the right, where Hagrid had gone, I could hear a multitude of voices through another large set of doors. To our left, a great white marble staircase rose toward the upper floors.
McGonagall led us to a door at the back of the large hall and bade us go inside. It turned out to be a rather small, circular chamber. After the last of us were inside, she shut the door and turned to stare severely down at us. Silence reigned then, except for the croaks coming from Neville's toad.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will being shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each house has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.
"The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as best as you can while you are waiting. Any questions?"
McGonagall made it sound like students would be entirely separated by their houses, and I was not sure if I liked that. I did not mind competition, but pure rivalry seemed like a bad idea. Apparently I was not the only one thinking along those lines, because Harry Potter raised his hand.
"Yes…Harry Potter, I believe?" she asked him, with raised eyebrows. Several heads whipped in his direction, seemingly surprised at his presence among them. He appeared unaffected by their stares.
"So, we're like enemies?" he asked. I looked closely at him for the first time, realizing that I had more or less glossed over his presence on the train. He was indeed a rather small boy-about my size-with shaggy, raven-black hair and small, horn-rimmed glasses. The scar I had read about was prominent on his forehead, though his hair partly concealed it. His most striking features, more than the scar, were his emerald eyes, even more of a true green than McGonagall's robe. He was peering intently up at her with those eyes.
I looked back toward McGonagall, waiting for the answer to the question that I had wanted to ask, but wouldn't have. Perhaps this Harry Potter was worth getting to know, if he was insightful enough to question a professor on the first night.
She was frowning. "No, Mr. Potter. That is not what I said. Houses are primarily a way to organize students while at Hogwarts."
Harry cocked his head to the side. All eyes were on him again. "But it sounded like we would be spending all of our time with our housemates. What about everyone else?"
The attention shifted to McGonagall. "It is up to each student, on their own time, to forge inter-house friendships," she said. For a second, I thought she might have smiled, but then her face was stern again. "And let me assure you, Harry-and everyone else-I would be very pleased if such a thing occurred. Now, any more questions?"
She looked around for a bit, and when no one raised their hand, she nodded. "I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." With one last, long look at Harry, she turned and left the small room, closing the door behind her.
Almost at once, several quiet conversations commenced, and they were all about what exactly this Sorting ceremony would be. It sounded like some sort of test to me, and I hoped that I had read enough over the summer to do well. I moved closer to Harry to hear what he was saying; he happened to be talking to the unpleasant redhead, Ron.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron replied. I assumed Fred was a brother or a friend.
"What about you, do you think we're going to be enemies if we're in separate houses?" Harry wondered.
"Maybe if you're in Slytherin," Ron grumbled. "All the Dark wizards come out of there, or so everyone in my family says. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw seem fine, though."
I hadn't even been at the school for ten minutes, and I was already worried how things were going to turn out. Harry had raised an interesting point, one that had seemed to throw McGonagall off, albeit briefly, and I wondered how accurate his assessment might truly be. Ron was a first year, and already he was set against Slytherin students because of some familial prejudice. If these problems occurred to me before I'd even met the rest of the school, and to Harry, why not to others?
My nervousness about the Sorting faded a bit as I thought about the problem more, and I realized that it did not matter which house I was put in. Ravenclaw would probably suit me the best, because I knew I had a decent brain, but I was loyal to my parents, brave when I really needed to be, and could be cunning if the situation called for it. So Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Slytherin were just as likely. I shrugged to myself and reached up to retie my ponytail. Whichever house I was Sorted into, I hoped Neville and Harry at least were with me. I already knew Neville and was comfortable talking to him, and I wanted to talk to Harry a bit more. Being in the same house would make that easier.
Suddenly, two or three girls behind me screamed, and I jumped at the loud noise. I turned and was shocked myself, because ghosts had just floated through the wall behind us. There were fifteen or twenty in all, and they gliding through the air, white and opaque.
A short, fat one said, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"
"My dear Friar," a ghost wearing Elizabethan clothing interrupted, "haven't we given Peeves enough chances already? He gives us all a bad name, and you know, he's not really even a ghost-I say, what are you all doing here?"
We were all too stunned to respond to the ghost. In the Muggle world, ghosts were something to be feared, but these seemed rather harmless.
"New students," the Friar exclaimed, and then he smiled at us all. He seemed quite a jolly fellow, for a dead guy. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"
"That's right," I answered, because no one else would.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," he responded. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," a familiar voice said, and we all turned toward the door see that McGonagall had returned. "The Sorting ceremony is about to start."
The ghosts left through another wall, and several of them waved to us as they disappeared. I and a few others waved back.
"Now, form a line and follow me," McGonagall said. I got in line behind a tall black boy, and we all followed McGonagall from the little chamber and back into the entrance hall. I could not resist looking up at the high ceiling once again. The pure physical dimensions of this one room were larger than my house, it seemed.
We soon reached the doors I had heard all the voices coming from, and she pushed them open with her hand. The Great Hall, as McGonagall had called it, was true to its name. At least three times the size of the entrance hall, it had four very long tables and another at the far side of the room, placed perpendicular to the rest. There were hundreds or possibly even thousands of lit candles floating ten feet above the tabletops. Students stared at us from the four lengthwise tables and professors looked on from the head table.
I looked up again, and I was mesmerized to see that I was staring up into the pristinely clear night sky, the same that I had seen on the journey across the lake.
"Wow," someone muttered, and I remembered something I had read about it, over the summer.
"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, or so it says in Hogwarts, A History," I whispered, to no one in particular. It was almost as if I could just reach up and touch the stars.
Our attention shifted to McGonagall once again as she placed a four-legged stool in front of us. She then removed an old and worn-looking pointed hat from her robes and placed it on the stool. Its point drooped over a bit. I was highly mystified as to what was going to happen. Nothing happened for at least fifteen seconds, and I was starting to really wonder, but then the hat wriggled and a slit opened up in the brim. The hat then 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 top 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,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindor apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
In hope of a wonderful term,
I end the Sorting song here;
Please, put me on your head,
I'll provide your home this year.
As soon as its voice faded from the Great Hall, applause rang out quite loudly. There were even cheers and catcalls, and the hat turned toward each table and bowed.
Ron whispered, right behind me, "So we've just got to try on the hat? I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
I couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped my lips-a troll, honestly-and I turned slightly to look at him. He must have heard me, because he was glaring at me; Harry stood next to him, looking at me curiously. I shrugged at them and turned back toward the stool.
The Sorting didn't seem too tough, although I wasn't sure I wanted some hat to be able to see completely into my mind. There were things no one else knew, like fears and ambitions, that no one else should know, but I supposed whatever the old hat saw it would keep private.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall said, moving forward with a roll of parchment. "Abbot, Hannah!"
A short, blond-haired, ruddy-faced girl with pig tails walked slowly forward. With shaking hands, she put the hat on and then sat on the stool. Several seconds passed, and then:
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted. The table second from the left cheered and clapped, and Hannah quickly took the hat off and almost ran over there. She was welcomed at her table with pats on the back and smiles.
"Bones, Susan!"
Another blond girl-she looked quite similar to Hannah, except she wore her hair in a long plait instead of pig tails-strode to the stool and shoved the hat over head.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" She moved off to join Hannah and the other Hufflepuffs at their table.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!" The students sitting at the table second from the right clapped and welcomed their new addition. He was a rather skinny boy with flat, brown hair.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Brown, Lavender!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" This time, the table at the far right applauded and cheered. Lavender was another blond girl with a pleasant face, and I saw two identical redheads catcalling her as she approached the table. They must have been related to Ron, because the similarity was striking.
"Bulstrode, Millicent!"
"SLYTHERIN!" The applause was much more subdued from the table on the far left, and as I looked over there, my initial impression was they looked less friendly than the other tables. It might have been the large percentage of them with sullen or bored looks on their faces.
"Corner, Michael!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Crabbe, Vincent!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" My name was coming closer and closer, and I could feel my heartbeat speeding up.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Finnegan, Seamus!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, after one or two long minutes. It seemed as if it had a hard time deciding with Seamus, who looked very relieved to finally be off the stool.
"Goldstein, Anthony!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Goyle, Gregory!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Granger, Hermione!"
I took a deep breath and hurried forward, taking the hat from the stool, sitting down at once, and firmly placing it upon my thick brown curls. It fell over my eyes and ears, cutting off all sound and light. I waited for something to happen.
"What have we here," a tiny voice said, in my ear. It must have been the hat. "Quite an astounding mind; you would do well in Ravenclaw, that's for sure. But, I also see true bravery and courage, perhaps even the sacrificial kind, and a depth of loyalty more students could use. And what's this? A certain willingness to do what you have to in order to achieve your goals, all of which, I must say, are quite admirable.
"So, you would prosper in any house, Miss Granger. Any preference?"
"Umm," I wonderfully articulated, surprised at having been asked my own opinion. I shrugged, which must have looked interesting to those watching, and whispered, "It doesn't matter to me. They all seem fine."
"And an openness toward the unknown-I think that clinches it," the hat said. "GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, and I took the hat off my head and turned toward the table on the right. They were smiling and clapping for me.
"Well done, well done!" someone said, and I sat down in the first open seat I could find. It turned out to be next to yet another red head, one that looked older than Ron and other two I'd seen. He leaned over to me.
"Welcome-Hermione, is it?" I nodded. "Welcome to Gryffindor house," he said, in an odd sort of pompous voice. "I'm Percy Weasley"-definitely Ron's older brother-"and I'm a fifth year Prefect. That means," he said, pointing to the badge on his chest, "you should come to me with any problems before our Head of House, Professor McGonagall."
I nodded. "Thanks," I said, and he smiled at me. We both turned back to the Sorting.
"Greengrass, Daphne!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Longbottom, Neville!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" Neville forgot to take the hat off on his way to our table, and amid gales of laughter, he retraced his steps back to the stool and sheepishly handed the hat to McGonagall. When he sat down at the table, his face was very red.
"MacDougal, Isabel!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"MacMillan, Ernie!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Malfoy, Draco!" So this was the boy Harry and Ron had been talking about; he had a severely angular face, whitish-blond hair, and an arrogant swagger that was already annoying. He smirked as he touched the hat, and before it was even on his head, it screamed:
"SLYTHERIN!" Draco went to sit between the two other students that had just been sorted, Crabbe and Goyle. He looked quite small in comparison to their bulk.
"Moon, Lily!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" She came and sat with us; she was of medium height and light complexion. Her hair was light brown and her eyes were blue.
"Nott, Theodore!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Parkinson, Pansy!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Patil, Padma!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Patil, Parvati!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" She was quite obviously of Indian descent, with her long, thick black hair and dark complexion. She sat down next to Lily.
"Perks, Sally-Anne!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" Sally was short and had dark brown hair, though it wasn't nearly as wild as mine. She tripped on her way over, but recovered quickly, and was soon seated with the rest of us.
"Potter, Harry!"
The name galvanized the hall into a frenzy of whispers, but Harry seemed oblivious to them as he stepped forward, held the hat in his hands for a moment and gazed at it, and then sat down and placed it on his head. It took awhile-at one point it seemed as if Harry was having a conversation with the hat, as I had-but eventually the hat shouted:
"GRYFFINDOR!"
"We got Potter! We got Potter!" someone yelled over the loud applause, and I looked over to see the twin redheads jumping up and down and dancing with each other. I laughed along with others at the sight. When Harry reached us, Percy turned around on the bench and shook his hand, introducing himself to Harry as he had to me.
"Smith, Zacharias!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Thomas, Dean!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" The tall black boy I had stood behind came to sit with us.
"Turpin, Lisa!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Weasley, Ronald!"
As it had with Draco Malfoy, that hat had not even touched Ron's head when it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" I heard Percy blow out a breath, and then clap for Ron along with the rest of us. The twin redheads were cheering very loudly again.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," Percy said, when Ron approached, in that same silly, pompous voice. Ron just rolled his eyes at his older brother and sat next to Harry, on the other side of Percy from me.
"Zabini, Blaise!"
"SLYTHERIN!" McGonagall then rolled up the parchment and walked away with the stool in hand. Percy nudged me and pointed to the head table, and I looked closely at it for the first time. At one end sat the huge man, Hagrid, who had led us to Hogwarts. In the middle, in a ridiculous golden chair, was an old man with a long flowing beard that could only be Albus Dumbledore. I had read some information about him in Hogwarts, A History, namely that he was the greatest wizard of the age, and perhaps of all time. He looked quite old, though.
As McGonagall took her seat amongst the rest of the professors, Dumbledore stood and spread his arms wide. He was smiling benignly down at us all.
"Welcome!" he exclaimed. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
I was so confused I could only clap and cheer with the rest of the students. Was there some hidden meaning to those four words, or was it utter nonsense? For the greatest wizard of the age, he hadn't made much sense.
"Is he-a bit mad?" I heard Harry ask Percy. I looked around the older redhead to see Harry staring at Dumbledore.
"Mad?" Percy repeated. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
Percy offered him a platter full of delicious potatoes, and that is when I saw that the platters all along the table, which had been empty five seconds earlier, were now filled with an assortment of truly scrumptious looking food. From meat to vegetables and everything in between, every food group was represented with at least five different dishes. My mouth started to water just from the smells.
"That does look good," the ghost in the Elizabethan clothing said; he was floating above the table. I looked up at him, as did the other students.
"Can't you-?" Harry asked, trailing off. My mouth was too full to speak at that moment, so I was content to listen.
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," the ghost said. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" Ron said, on the other side of Harry. "My brothers told me about you-you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-" the ghost started to correct Ron, but another first year named Seamus interrupted him.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
"Like this," the ghost huffed, and promptly pulled his head to the side. If not for the flap of skin and perhaps tendons, he would have pulled it clean of his shoulders. The gore was white and colorless, but it was still fairly disgusting, so I averted my eyes quickly lest I lose the good food I'd been eating.
"So," the ghost continued, "new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin has got the cup six years in a row. The Bloody Baron's become almost unbearable-he's the Slytherin ghost."
I looked over to the Slytherin table, on the opposite side of the Great Hall, and saw a severe looking ghost with deep-set, brooding eyes and a long robe stained with silver blood. Draco Malfoy was sitting right next to him, and he kept glancing gloomily at the ghost by his side. I smiled to myself at his unfortunate placement.
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked.
"I've never questioned him," the ghost said.
As dinner dwindled, the plates suddenly cleared themselves and the food on the platters was replaced with dessert. There were so many different kinds of cakes, pies, and truffles that I could not keep them straight. I selected a piece of chocolate cake, which I rarely got at home because of my parents' profession, and savored every bite of it. It was quite good. I listened in on a conversation that had started:
"...a Muggleborn," Dean Thomas was saying.
"I'm half-and-half. Me Dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch `til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
Some people chuckled, and I smiled along with them. I didn't have to imagine the shock of finding out about magic, because I had gone through that not too long ago.
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked, looking at him.
Neville cleared his throat and looked around for a moment before answering. "Well, my Gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was without magic for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force some magic out of me-he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned-but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he had hanging me out of the upstairs window by my ankles…"
As interesting as Neville's story was, I tuned him out and turned to Percy with some questions of my own:
"Do classes start tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Yes, Hermione, they do."
"I hope I do well," I fretted, worried about being Muggleborn in a school of magic. He smiled at me.
"All classes start out slowly," he affirmed.
"I have read the course books, but I have not been able to try any spells yet. Transfiguration seems awfully complicated…"
He looked impressed for some reason. "If you've read through your course books, you really do not have anything to worry about. And I must say, good work on that; more students need to be that motivated. With Transfiguration, you're going to be starting out small, just matches into needles, that sort of thing-"
"Ouch!" someone exclaimed, and as Percy turned the other way, I saw Harry hunched over with a hand on his forehead, directly over his scar in fact.
"What is it?" Percy wondered, leaning over Harry.
"…nothing," Harry said, straightening slowly and taking his hand away from his face. It might have just been me, but his scar looked slightly redder than before. He was looking intently at the head table.
"Who is that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy, pointing toward a man with black, greasy hair, a pale face, and an unpleasant scowl.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but everyone knows he's after Quirrell's post. Snape knows quite a lot about Dark arts…"
"So Quirrell teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts, then?" I wondered, and Percy nodded to me. Shortly thereafter, the plates and platters cleaned themselves once again and Dumbledore stood up. Silence dropped like an anvil-the man certainly commanded the attention of everyone with very little effort.
"I have just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well," he said, turning toward our table. The redheaded twins waved up at him.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-flood corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death…" he said, trailing off as some laughter was heard through the Hall. Dumbledore did not smile, however.
"He's not serious?" Neville asked.
"Must be," Percy responded, looking quite grim. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to somewhere-the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. He should have told us prefects, at the very least."
I wondered what could possibly be in that off-limits corridor for such secrecy to be warranted. It was obviously something the adults did not want the students to know about or something that was extremely dangerous and would upset parents-and if that was the case, what was it doing in a school full of children?
The only other thing I wondered about was Quidditch; I had read a few short pages on the Wizarding sport in Hogwarts, A History and one other history text, but ultimately they were not very informative.
"And now, bedtime! Off you trot!" he said, and smiled at us once again. There was a commotion in the hall as all the students stood up and started talking at once.
"First years, follow me!" Percy called out, and once again I and the other first years were herded together. We followed Percy the length of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall-I stole one more glance at the starry night before we left-and then up the great marble staircase. No one was talking much, and when I looked around to see why, it occurred to me that everyone looked very tired. All of that good food and the excitement of the Sorting must have drained them, and now that I was thinking about sleep, I realized that it had in fact been a very long day, and that a bed would feel wonderful.
Percy led us all through a maze of corridors and staircases, always ascending, until finally we stopped in front of a bundle of sticks floating in midair. Percy motioned for us to stop and stepped forward. Sticks began to bounce off his chest.
"Peeves," he said to us. "A poltergeist. Peeves-show yourself." The only answer Percy received was a loud, wet raspberry. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" Percy asked the air.
I heard a pop, and suddenly a small man with a wicked smile was floating in front of us, cross-legged.
"Ooooh!" he cried, grinning at us. "Ickle firsties! What fun!" And then he swooped toward us, so that we all ducked. I was the first to straighten out, and I stared at it with disdain. What was something like that doing in a school? Seemed to be more of a nuisance than anything.
"Get lost, Peeves, or the Baron will hear about this!" Percy threatened. Peeves pouted and dropped his sticks, which landed with a clatter on Neville's head and the floor. He zoomed away, laughing madly as he went. Neville rubbed his head but did not look much worse for the wear.
"Watch out for Peeves," Percy said, as we resumed our journey. "He'll only listen to the Bloody Baron-here we are," he announced, stopping in front of a large portrait of a very large lady. Just like all the portraits I'd seen in Hogwarts, this fat lady was moving around and even talking.
"Password?" she asked, smoothing the pink frills of her dress.
"Caput Draconis," Percy supplied, and the portrait swung forward on hidden hinges to reveal a round hole in the stone wall. I followed everyone through the hole-I had to kind of half-crawl-and found myself inside a decently-sized circular room, with many cozy armchairs and a fire burning away in the hearth.
"Here we are, the Gryffindor common room," Percy explained. "The boys' dormitories are up those stairs to the right; the girls' are up to the left. I suggest you get some sleep tonight, because classes do start tomorrow. You should be in the Great Hall for breakfast by 8:30."
After that, we dispersed by sex, and the four other first year girls and I made our way up the left staircase to the door marked `First Years'. Inside, we found five four-poster beds with rich velvet hangings and linens; the pillowcases and the comforters were gold. Our luggage had been brought up at some point, because all our trunks and suitcases sat on our beds. A door on one side of the room, upon further inspection, led to a bathroom with two showers, two stalls, and two sinks.
Lavender, Parvati, Sally, Lily, and I briefly introduced ourselves as we unpacked. Lavender and Parvati came from families with two magical parents, Lily was like Seamus with one of each, and Sally was a Muggleborn, like me. My initial impressions of Lavender, Parvati, and Lily were of giggly girls, much like the ones I had not liked at my other school. Sally, on the other hand, seemed to be quite reserved.
It was late, though, and soon enough we were all snuggled under the covers in our new beds. I stared up at the velvet ceiling of the four-poster for several minutes before dropping off to sleep, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Everything was new and exciting, but also a little scary. As long as I was able to make some friends…
But I was asleep before I thought too much about that.
-->