Serpent's Lair

Blaise went on for some time, expounding on the merits of Slytherin house, and then the talk drifted to other topics. Blaise had just started explaining how wizard painters worked when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy he had met when he went to get his Hogwarts robes. The boy was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Blaise shifted slightly, and gave a soft, disapproving sniff that Malfoy didn't seem to catch.

"Harry Potter," Harry said unnecessarily. "Er... nice to meet you."

Draco regarded him with interest. Harry was getting thoroughly sick of people doing that, but he tried to keep his expression neutral, and Draco's scrutiny didn't last long. "Harry Potter," he muttered, in the tone of one a bit impressed despite himself. "Potter-- I heard they sent you to live with Muggles. What were they like?"

"Awful," Harry answered shortly. He didn't really feel like discussing the Dursleys with Malfoy.

Draco looked approving. "Yes, they are, aren't they? Father's told me... well, you're in your own territory now. Need someone to show you around?" He smiled and offered his hand.

Harry hesitated. He'd never had friends before, and the offer was tempting, but something in Draco's smile made Harry uneasy. "I think I'll be alright," he answered. "Thanks, though. Chocolate frog?"

Draco took the frog. Annoyance passed across his face, but he just shrugged. "Suit yourself, then, Potter, but you'll be better off with some connections, you know."

"I'll be okay," Harry replied, keeping his voice friendly. He wasn't sure what he thought of Draco yet. "See you at Hogwarts?"

"I suppose you will," Draco said, his face unreadable except for another brief flash of annoyance. He went out of the compartment, and Crabbe and Goyle followed.

"Malfoy, hm?" Blaise muttered. "That's the last connection you need. Father told me about the Malfoys. He says they're the sort who give Slytherin a bad name. They were on You-Know-Who's side during the war. They said they'd been enchanted, but Father doesn't believe it. You know" --she continued without pausing, apparently unaware that she was switching subjects-- "You should probably get your Hogwarts robes on. We'll be there soon." She got up and left the compartment, pausing in the doorway. "Let me know when you're done."

The train slowed down and finally stopped, and Harry and Blaise joined the crowd thronging the corridor. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

The first years all followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. Hagrid told them they'd be getting their first sight of Hogwarts, and a moment later they rounded a bend, and the path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. On the other side, they saw a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called. Harry and Blaise were followed into their boat by a terrified-looking blond girl and a scrawny boy in threadbare robes. They reached the far side of the lake at last, and Neville was reunited with his toad, which Hagrid had somehow managed to find, and Hagrid led them up to the door of the castle.

At the door, Hagrid turned them over to a tall, stern witch who he called Professor McGonagall. She led them through the huge, torch lit corridors and staircases and into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in rather closer than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin 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 has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your 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. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Blaise.

"Well, I, don't-- know, exactly. It's nothing bad, though," she added, looking worried. Harry wondered which of them she was trying to convince.

Harry looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. 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. Harry tried not to listen to her; he'd never been more nervous, ever. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air-- several people behind him screamed. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. They seemed 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 even a ghost-- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Friar. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling strangely as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a tall boy with red hair. Blaise got into line behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. They walked to the front of the Hall, and Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat.

Maybe we have to try and get a rabbit out of it, 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 hat began to sing:

"Oh, you might 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 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 folk 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!"

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.

"See? No problem at all," Blaise whispered to Harry. "Try to get Slytherin or Ravenclaw. I'll ask for whichever house you get sorted to, though, okay?"

Harry nodded, wishing the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy; he didn't feel cunning or quick-witted or any of it at the moment.

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. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, and sat down. A moment's pause--

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Bones, Susan," went to Hufflepuff, while "Boot, Terry," became the first Ravenclaw.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy," approached the stool, looking forcedly calm, and was quickly placed in Ravenclaw. "Brown, Lavender," went to Gryffindor. "Bulstrode, Millicent," a large girl who, for all her height, looked ready to run, marched to the stool with an air of determination. After a moment's pause, the hat placed her in Slytherin. Harry noticed Phineas and Darrin, the boys who'd helped them with their luggage, sitting at the Slytherin table and cheering.

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but others it took a little while to decide. "Gatesby, Arriana," the girl Elizabeth had gone with on the train, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared her a Slytherin. She put the hat down on the stool, looking angry, and stocked off toward the Slytherin table. Behind him, Harry heard Blaise hiss in disgust.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Harry heard the boy in front of him groan.

"Longbottom, Neville," the toadless boy, was also sorted to Gryffindor.

"MacDougal, Morag," smiled shyly at the crowd before taking her place on the stool. She sat with her eyes closed and her tongue between her lips, and when she was finally sorted to Slytherin she smiled again before carefully placing the hat back on the stool.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Elizabeth kept her eyes on the floor as she approached the hat, which quickly sorted her to Ravenclaw. She hurried to join Mandy at the Ravenclaw table, looking relieved as she sat down.

"Nott, Theodore," the scrawny boy who had followed them into the boat, was placed in Slytherin. "Parkinson, Pansy," also went to Slytherin. There weren't many people left now, and Harry was feeling definitely sick. A pair of twin girls went next, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"... and then, at last--

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out 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?"

Harry's mind was racing. He didn't know how to convince the hat to put him where he wanted to go-- and he wasn't even sure where that was. Despite everything Blaise had said, he wasn't too sure about the Slytherins...

Is Ravenclaw an option? He asked.

"Ravenclaw, hm? No, not really, I'm afraid. Good mind, but you just don't think like one... now why do you want to be in Ravenclaw? I see... well, Ravenclaw I can't give you, but Slytherin is an option... if you really want to be in the same house Voldemort was in..."

Blaise said Slytherin is what you make of it...

"Yes, yes, but others may not think that charitably..."

At least I'll have someone to talk to.

"Are you sure? You'd fit much better in Gryffindor, really... though there's no doubting you'd do well in Slytherin... and besides... well, yes, Salazar certainly would have wanted you... SLYTHERIN!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. People cheered loudly, but Harry thought he heard an undercurrent of whispering. He took off the hat and walked toward the Slytherin table, still wondering if he'd made the right choice. The Slytherins seemed quite pleased to have him; everyone at the table seemed determined to greet him and have him sit next to them. Harry found it all rather embarrassing. He noticed Malfoy watching him with mixed emotions, foremost of which seemed to be jealousy.

Then a ghost drifted through the crowd, and their talking stopped instantly. Harry stared. This ghost had a gaunt face, and his robes were stained silver with what Harry suspected was blood.

"Be seated," the ghost ordered in a deep, hollow voice. The Slytherins quickly obliged. Harry would have followed suit, but the ghost's eyes were locked on his. "Harry Potter. This is an honor I confess I had not expected. Congratulations, Mr. Potter. Welcome to Slytherin house."

Harry sat down next to Theodore Nott, who hadn't stood up to meet him and now acted as if he, and the rest of the table, didn't exist. He nodded to Malfoy and Phineas, and tried to ignore the many looks he was receiving from around the table. There was, he decided, something distinctly unnerving about Slytherins. Morag's smile was genuinely friendly, and that was some comfort. Phineas' seemed to be, but Harry got the feeling that Phineas could seem to be just about anything he wanted.

Harry could see the High Table properly now. At the end farthest from him sat Hagrid, who gave him the thumbs up, though he looked rather worried. Harry gave him a rather watery grin. And there, in the center of the High Table, sat Albus Dumbledore; Harry recognized him from one of the Chocolate Frog cards he'd gotten on the train. Dumbledore was looking at him, and Harry had an uneasy feeling he was being evaluated. Others may not think so charitably... but Dumbledore smiled warmly at him, and Harry smiled back, feeling that things might not be so bad after all.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," went to Gryffindor; "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw; and "Weasley, Ron," the tall red haired boy, was sorted into Gryffindor. Then it was Blaise's turn. She approached the hat, biting her lip and fidgeting with nervous excitement. There was a brief silence. Harry crossed his fingers under the table. "SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted.

Harry clapped loudly with the rest (or most of them) as Blaise ran to toward Slytherin table and sat down beside him, bouncing slightly and beaming. "We did it!" she whispered, thoroughly pleased. "We're in Slytherin!"