The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"You'd be very right in that regard," Cedric said. "The Weasley twins love to cross her, though, and she doesn't really do anything beyond detention and taking away points because one, she thinks their funny, and two, their part of her 'house'."
"Her house?" Hermione asked.
"She's head of Gryffindor House at school. She's fair but strict, loves Quidditch, and, though she won't show it, she also likes the pranks that the Weasley twins play, so long as they don't really hurt someone."
"Who is she?" Harry asked.
"We've already been told a bit about her," Cedric answer.
"You mean it's Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. Cedric nodded his head.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
"Sounds beautiful," Hermione said.
"It really is," Cedric agreed, remembering how it looked the first time he himself saw it.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here
"They usually are. The boats are only taken by the first years. All the other years take a carriage to the school, which are faster than the boats," Cedric said.
– but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather close together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Why are we waiting there?" Harry asked.
"Professor McGonagall gives you a speech at that time," Cedric said. "She also likes to psych you out a bit."
The other three looked at him, wondering what he meant about that last bit, but he motioned for Luna to continue reading instead of answering.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term, banquet will begin shortly, but before you take you 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."
"That is very true," Cedric said. Hermione frowned.
"What happens if you have friends who end up in another house?" she asked.
"Some people remain friends, though not on the level they might have been before hand," Cedric said.
"And others?" she persisted. He didn't answer, which seemed to confirm what she was thinking.
"Why? Why would people forget about their friendships as they seem to," Hermione muttered. Meanwhile, Harry was feeling a new worry. What would happen if he was in a different house than any of his new friends? Would they not be as friendly as they were now? Or would they pretty much forget about having been friends with each other?
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your 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."
"Is that why it's not important?" Hermione asked. "Is that why people who have been friends for years suddenly become simple acquaintances if their not in the same house?"
"What do you mean by that?" Cedric asked.
"Do you not realize that, by having a house cup, you make the boundary lines between all of the houses more pronounced. I mean, who wants to be with a member of another house when there's the chance that, to help you make sure your house wins, they can cause trouble for you and get points taken away for it?" Hermione asked. "Your either one of those who cause the trouble, or you're the one who might end up in trouble. Either way, this house cup doesn't seem to promote inner-school unity."
"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 much as you can while you are waiting."
"Is that what you meant by 'trying to psych you out'?" Harry asked. Cedric nodded.
"That is the exact same speech she gave my year as well," Cedric said, though he was thinking about what Hermione had mentioned earlier about the house cup.
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.
"Somehow, I don't think that will work out well," Luna said.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
"How long does it take to get everyone ready?" Hermione asked.
"A few minutes," he said, not mentioning the true reason why they make them wait.
She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron.
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."
"Does it?" Harry asked. Cedric laughed.
"No, it doesn't. Parents and older children always say it's something other than what it really is. People are not supposed to know how you're sorted unless they've already been sorted themselves, so, when asked by their children and younger siblings, they won't tell you. The more prankster types come up with something, of course," Cedric said. "My mother told me that I had to wrestle with the giant squid that lives in the lake, something that's completely unrealistic, since the squid is a really gentle creature. Of course, I didn't learn that until later, after my sorting."
Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't known any magic yet – what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too.
"Do those who are blood fanatics tell their children as well?" Hermione asked, using the term Cedric had said earlier.
"I don't think so. They never seem to act like they know what's going to happen," Cedric said. "I, of course, wouldn't be surprised if they did try to tell their children, but couldn't. It would make sense if there's a spell that keep you from doing so."
No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.
"Nervous?" Cedric asked her. She nodded.
"Had someone in my year doing that as well. Can't remember who, though," he said.
Harry tried hard not to listen to her.
"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, knowing that she wasn't helping keep him from becoming frightened.
He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying the he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue.
"How did you manage that?" Cedric asked.
"How did they know it was you?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know, and, while I knew it was me, the Dursleys…they've kind of made it so that anything that goes wrong gets blamed on me unless it's obviously not my fault," he said. "Plus, the fact that she was yelling at me at the time didn't help."
Hermione scowled once again at the mention of what damage the Dursleys had done, and not just to Harry, but for his reputation as well.
He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.
"Melodramatic much," Hermione said, but with a smile on her face, showing that she was just teasing.
Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air – several people behind him screamed.
Cedric had trouble keeping his face blank from giving away the fact that he knew what was going on. Thankfully, none of the other ones were looking at him; they were eager to know what had caused the people to scream.
What the –?"
He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall.
"Ghosts?" Harry and Hermione said, looking amazed. "There's ghosts in the castle?"
"Yup," Cedric said, smiling at the two.
Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seem to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? 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?"
"Is this another set up?" Hermione asked. Cedric nodded.
"It's how the ghost introduce themselves sometimes. They act like they don't know your there, welcome you, and then Professor McGonagall usually comes and leads you to the Great Hall for the sorting," Cedric said.
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody answered.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I supposed?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. Each house has it's own ghost," Cedric said.
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceromony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghost floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.
Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets.
"Why gold?" Hermione asked. Cedric shrugged. It's always been gold for as long as he had been there.
At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.
"How are the teachers behind us if we were led up to them?" Harry asked.
"I think whoever wrote this got the wording wrong," Hermione said.
The hundred of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shine misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."
"You've read that book?" Cedric said, looking impressed. He happened to know that the book was dreadfully boring, if not incomplete with parts wrong, and that not many people had read it before.
"I guess," Hermione said, making a subtle reminder that this hadn't happened yet.
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.
"It really is," Cedric agreed.
Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.
"I wonder if Professor Dumbledore will let us borrow the hat," Cedric mused, wondering what Harry's aunt would do if she saw it in her house…and couldn't get rid of it.
Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it,
"What?" Cedric asked.
"A Muggle illusion trick," Hermione said.
Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing – noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hate began to sing:
Should I sing?" Luna asked. Harry nodded immediately; she sounded like she would have a very pretty singing voice.
"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.
I wonder if the twins will consider that a challenge to take thought Cedric.
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.
I was right Harry thought as he listened to Luna sing. She's got a very beautiful voice.
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 to Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors 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 your real friends, Those cunning fold use any means To achieve their ends.
So Put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
"Nice," Hermione said, clapping for Luna. She had a great singing voice.
"So, which house do you think sounds the best now?" Cedric asked. Hermione, Harry, and Luna all looked at each other.
"I think Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw is the best, with Gryffindor right behind them," Harry said honestly. While bravery was all good, he thought being just and loyal, or wit and learning to be the better qualities to have. And, at least in Hufflepuff, there was a really good chance that he would make really good friends, better than any of the other houses.
"I think the same as Harry," Hermione said, "Though I'm even less impressed with Gryffindor than he is now." She had the feeling that her previous thoughts of Gryffindor being the best house was mostly due to the fact that their headmaster was in it.
"Ravenclaw," Luna said simply, not offering anything more to that.
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."
"He really needs to stop listening to what the twins say," Hermione said, remembering that it was the other twin who gave him the spell, and having a feeling that the spell and this weren't the first time they tricked Ron.
"Ron's too easy of a target," Cedric said. "He always listened to what they say and falls for it. It's just the way he is."
"I really hope the troll thing doesn't happen," Luna said, sounding worried.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"I think Ron's part Seer, because he has a rather scary ability of predicting things. The sad thing is, he has yet to realize it," Luna explained.
Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.
"I think everyone would go to that house in the beginning," Cedric said. "Save for those who know what they want, of course." He was talking about most of the Slytherins in that case, though there were a few others who knew exactly what house they wanted before hand, mostly those who had at least one parent who was a witch or wizard.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause –
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
"Cedric smiled as he refrained for clapping and cheering for his soon to be new house member.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers cat-calling.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.
"Oh, I doubt it's your imagination. Most of them are extremely unpleasant," said Cedric.
He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked last for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.
"What would he do to them?" Hermione asked.
"Bully them. I know that he's hit a few and pushed others," Harry answered.
"And no one did or saw it?" Hermione asked, incredulous. Harry figured that she meant teachers or adults when she said 'saw.'
"No. Dudley had all the kids too afraid to talk, and always made sure that the teachers were no were nearby when he began his bullying," Harry answered.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Do you know why it takes so long sometimes?" Harry asked.
"Well, it comes down to choice, in truth. If the hat thinks you'll do you good in one house, but you don't want to be in that house, then you can ask it to put you in another house. Also, if you want to be in a specific house, then it'll almost always put you into that house; there are a few times when the hat will believe that you should be in a certain house so much that it'll put you in it, even if you don't want to be in it," Cedric explained.
"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.
"One of my friends didn't want to go to the house the hat had originally wanted him to go to, and asked to go to Hufflepuff instead, because that's the house his parents were in. And Percy's a Gryffindor, but he's super ambitious, which is one of the main qualities of Slytherin house – at least, it's supposed to be. He should be in Slytherin, but isn't, so it's only natural to think that he asked the hat not to put him there – more than that, he asked the hat to put him in Gryffindor, where the rest of his family went as well," Cedric said. 'At least, that's what I believe, because, after Slytherin, he's got the markings of a Ravenclaw over Gryffindor."
"Does that mean he's not good Hufflepuff-material?" Luna asked, drawn into the conversation upon hearing about Percy and which houses suited him better than Gryffindor.
"Depending on your point of view. He is loyal; however, it's to rules, laws, and the person in power over everything else. And he can be just and fair, but, again, so long as it doesn't clash with rules, laws, and the person in power too much. Everyone can be any house, but one has to look at the full picture of a person, not just the surface," Cedric said. "A person can seem one way at one point, and another at the next. Most times, if you watch carefully, you can discover how the person really is, outside of the fake persona they, or another, create about that person."
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.
"I wonder what house I'm in," Hermione said excitedly. The others looked eager to know which house their friends was in as well.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
"Hmm, I wonder if that's what I really am, or what I wanted," Hermione said. Cedric, who frowned lightly at hearing which house she was in – he wanted her to be in his house! – started to think as well.
"I guess we'll see," he said.
Ron groaned.
"I take it, despite all of the complaining he did earlier about being in the same house as his family, he still wants to be in Gryffindor," Hermione said. Cedric nodded in agreement.
"You know, I've got to wonder. What happens when someone doesn't have any qualities of any of the houses?" Harry asked.
"They automatically go into the house they want, even if they don't have any quality for it, like most of the Slytherins right now. Their only in there because they want – or are expected – to be there, not because their cunning or ambitious. Well, they are ambitious, but everyone is in a way, so it's not much of a house decider."
A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?
"There are hardly ever any mistakes," Cedric said.
When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat tool a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
The four noticed how much it mentioned about Neville, figuring that there was a reason for it.
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
"The hat must not have wanted to be on his too long," Cedric said – it never was that short unless for certain reasons.
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbed and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
There weren't many people left now.
"Moon"…, "Nott"…, "Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last –
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting….So where shall I put you?"
"Seems like you can be in any of the houses," Cedric said.
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, not doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet.
"Of course you are," Luna said. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived. Every house wants you as a member. The thing that's unknown, though, is which house wants you for you, and which wants you for the glory of saying they've had you as a member."
Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
"Yeah, that does suck," Cedric said, shivering at the mere thought.
He could see the High Table properly now. At the end, nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only think in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts.
"Really? It's that bright?" Harry asked. Cedric nodded.
"I think he bleaches it or charms it or something, because it's not natural," Cedric said.
Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.
Cedric and Hermione were wondering why the teacher's turban was mentioned, as they didn't see a need for it.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Somehow, I knew that was going to happen," Hermione said.
"Yeah, it wouldn't really make sense for him to be in another house, because he's my 'friend'," Harry said; he was right, of course. He and Ron wouldn't be proficient enough friends if they were in different houses, with different schedules. He was also kidding when he said this, though – he didn't really think that it really mattered what house Ron was, he was either his friend or not, though, if what Cedric had said earlier about Ron, then there was a good chance Ron wouldn't have continued to be Harry's friend if he was in another house.
"Well, there's that. There's also the fact that he really doesn't fit in with all of the other houses. He's not extremely intelligent, and hates learning, so he doesn't belong in Ravenclaw; he's ambitious, but lacks the drive, plus he hates the house, so he doesn't belong in Slytherin; and he can be loyal, but he's not completely fair, and, again, he doesn't like – well, care for – the house, so, while he could belong to Hufflepuff, he'd probably refuse, so Gryffindor is the only house left," Cedric said.
Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Well done, Ron, Excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as 'Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.
"Wait a minute. Didn't the book say that there were only three people left after Harry sat down," Hermione asked. The others nodded. "So, did they just forget a person when counting? I honestly don't think that Harry would miss that there were four people left, after all?"
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.
"I honestly don't think there is. Though his chocolate frog card doesn't say this, I do believe that he considers teaching and becoming headmaster at the school to be his greatest achievement," Cedric said. 'I've yet to see him unhappy to see a student."
"Welcome!" he said. "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!"
Harry and Hermione blinked at the odd words.
"Is he…is he mad?" Hermione asked, clearly uncertain about him.
"A bit," Cedric said. "But he's also brilliant as well."
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.
"Is he – a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.
"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Bet wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"
Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, and lamb chops, sausage, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.
"Professor Dumblefore loves them," Cedric said in response to the question he foresaw Harry about to ask.
The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked.
"Somehow, I don't think I want to know what your definition of 'starved' actually is," Hermione said.
Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.
"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.
"Can't you –?"
"No," Cedric said.
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sur Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."
"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"
"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.
"Now that's a lie," Cedric said. "He is pretty much always going on about his nearly headless state, and loves showing how. Even those in other houses know this."
"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell into his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
'How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
"AKA, I've been afraid to ask," Cedric said. "Not that he'd tell. The Fat Friar's asked before, but he didn't say anything. However, according to the Fat Friar, the silver blood shouldn't be there unless he's paying for something, even here in the afterlife. The silver blood is basically his 'chains of penance'."
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jell-O, rice pudding…
As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.
"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."
"That is not the smartest thing to do," Cedric said. "It could have ended badly for his mother or even him. There are some half-bloods whose Muggle parents either leave them when it becomes clear that they're magical, or abuse them, which is considered sacrilege in this world. We're too few to allow children to be abused."
The others laughed.
"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but my family thought I was all-Muggle 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 –"
Cedric went pale, having the feeling that the attempt to force magic out of Neville wasn't so much the desired effect than an accidental one; there were some families, purebloods mostly, that were willing to get rid of those children who didn't show signs of magic after awhile. While the Longbottoms weren't blood fanatics by any reckoning, their were a few members who were Squib-phobic, and would do anything to make sure a Squib didn't live long if born into the family.
It sounded like Neville's great uncle was that way.
" – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and her was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy."
"Do you think that it's the fact that he showed magic that she was crying happily, or the fact that he was alive and alright?" Hermione asked, hoping that it was the later option.
"I do believe that it was probably because he was okay, considering how overprotective of Neville she is," Cedric said. "She lost her son and his wife in the war; Neville's all she has left in a way."
"And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
"Does he mean the toad that keeps getting away from him?" Harry asked. "Cause, if he does, I'm not sure it's a good gift."
On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult –"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –").
"Of course you are talking about that," Cedric said, sounding so good natural that Hermione knew that he wasn't making fun or snubbing her. It was such a change from what she was used to; any mention of liking to read or working on her schoolwork was usually met with a snub or others making fun of her. It was nice to meet others who didn't do that.
Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly. the hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
"I…I don't know," Harry said, looking worried himself. He'd never had his scar hurt before.
"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.
"What is it?" asked Percy.
"N-nothing."
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling that Harry had gotten from the teacher's look – a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"You have yet to talk to him, but your able to tell that on whether or not he'd like you?" Hermione said.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
"Well, while I don't care for Snape – and no one outside of Slytherin does, because he's completely biased towards them – but if he knows as much about the Dark Arts as it's rumored, then he'd be perfect for the job," Cedric said, "since you kind of need to know them in order to fight against them."
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.
"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.
"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."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.
"He always does that, since the twins have made it their life mission to go there," Cedric said.
"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 teams should contact Madam Hooch.
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
"That doesn't sound good," Hermione said.
Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.
"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.
"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."
"He doesn't always tell the prefects everything," Cedric said.
Hermione was thinking. "Do you think this has something to do with whatever it was that Hagrid got out of the bank?" she asked.
"It's possible," Cedric answered.
Harry, however, was on something else. "You know, I've got to wonder why he mentioned that to a room full of people, students, who will no doubt be curious as to find out why it's out of bounds. The threat of a very painful death, while effective, won't derail those who are determined," he said. "It's like an invitation to figure it out."
"You know what, your right about that, Harry," Hermione said.
"And now, before we got to bed, lets us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high about the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"
And the school bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heard could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot."
"Nice song," Hermione snorted.
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with a his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along he corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.
"At least you still noticed this," Hermione said.
A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them the started throwing themselves at him.
"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist."
"The school has a poltergeist," Hermione said. "I really hope that I don't run into him a lot."
He raised his voice, "Peeves – show yourself."
A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.
"He really doesn't sound pleasant," Harry said.
"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"
"The only person able to control him," Cedric said.
There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.
"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"
He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.
"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.
Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.
"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects."
"Peeves rarely listens to the Headmaster, much less the teachers. Of course he isn't going to listen to any student, even if they are prefects," Cedric said.
"Here we are."
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said.
"Usually how to get into whichever common room is yours," Cedric said. "However, I am told that the Raveclaws are different in a way. Not sure how, though."
"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.
"Hey, now I know what the password for the Gryffindor Common Room is," Cedric said. "I can come visit you. Of course, I'll have to be careful that I'm not noticed…"
"And that only work if we're in that house this time around," Hermione said.
They all scrambled through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.
Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers – they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.
"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to Harry through the hangings. "Get off, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."
"He sleeps with his rat?" Hermione asked, sounding horrified. It was one thing to sleep with a cat or dog on the bed, but a rat? She shivered, slightly horrified at the mere thought.
Harry was going to ask Ron if he'd had any of the treacle tart,
"I take it that you liked that?" Hermione asked.
"Sounds like it," Harry answered.
but he fell asleep almost at once.
Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, beacuse he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny.
"I wonder what the significance of the turban is," Hermione mused, finding it odd that it was mentioned.
Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off bit it tightened painfully – and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it – then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold – there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
"Okay, Malfoy's part sounds justified – he's an enemy to you, after all – but I don't understand Snape's part, nor the laughter becoming high and cold," Cedric said.
"Don't look at us; we don't get it either," Hermione said, motioning towards Harry, who nodded in agreement.
"I think it all signifies different people all tied to one," Luna said, though she didn't say anything else. The others looked at her, confused, but decided not to question her about it, motioning towards her to continue. They'd do it later, most likely after the book.
He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.
"Chapter's over," Luna said, passing the book to Harry. He took it, and turned the page to the next chapter.