The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks, the soft clatter of wheels against rails providing a rhythmic backdrop to the lively chatter in the compartment. The group had quickly settled into an easy camaraderie, laughter punctuating their conversation as they swapped stories and speculated about the upcoming school year.
Hermione, still clutching her stack of books like they were lifelines, looked around with barely contained excitement. "I've read so much about you, Harry," she said, eyes alight with curiosity. "The books make you sound like some kind of child prodigy—defeating You-Know-Who as a baby, surviving the Killing Curse, all of it. It's fascinating!"
Harry leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Oh, yeah. I love those books. My personal favorite is Harry Potter and the Completely Made-Up Load of Rubbish. It's a real page-turner."
Susan snorted, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Hermione, those books are about as accurate as a drunk goblin writing his memoirs. Half of them make it sound like Harry went one-on-one with Voldemort in an epic duel—while wearing a diaper."
Hermione frowned, flipping through one of the more dramatic-looking tomes. "But they're so detailed. They describe the night at Godric's Hollow, how you supposedly vanquished the Dark Lord, the exact spells, even—"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Let me guess, it claims I shouted some ancient incantation and summoned the spirit of Merlin himself? Or maybe I pulled off a sick backflip and hit Voldemort with a baby-sized Avada Kedavra?"
Tonks, lounging with her feet up on the seat, grinned. "Nah, the best one I read said you looked Voldemort dead in the eye and told him he was 'so last season' before he exploded. Honestly, it was pretty badass."
Neville, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally chimed in, a knowing smile on his face. "People needed a hero after the war. It didn't matter if the details were true or not—they just wanted a story that made them feel safe."
Daphne smirked, tapping her chin. "So, what's the real version, then? Did you, in fact, drool the Dark Lord to death?"
Harry grinned, eyes twinkling. "Not quite, but I bet my baby breath was lethal enough. Listen, the truth is, there were only four people in that house—my parents, Voldemort, and me. My parents are dead, Voldemort is currently somewhere between 'missing' and 'worse than missing,' and I was, well, an actual baby. So unless I had some kind of superpowered infant combat training that I don't remember, I think we can safely say I didn't duel him to the death."
Tracey, who had been leaning against the window, smirked. "I don't know, Potter. I hear babies can be vicious little gremlins. Maybe you bit him."
"That'd explain why he doesn't have a nose," Hannah added, giggling.
Susan clapped her hands together, eyes gleaming. "Alright, new theory: Harry screamed so loudly that Voldemort just... gave up on life and disintegrated."
Hermione, still looking skeptical but amused, sighed. "So basically, I've been reading wizarding tabloid garbage?"
"Bingo," Tonks said, giving her a finger-gun. "Welcome to the magical world, where half of what you hear is exaggerated nonsense and the other half is outright lies."
Harry leaned forward, eyes locked on Hermione's. "Look, Granger, I get it. You love books. So do I. But the wizarding world isn't just words on a page—it's real, messy, and full of surprises. Stick with us, and you'll see it for yourself."
Hermione's expression shifted from frustration to determination. "Alright. I'll just have to learn the truth myself."
Susan grinned, throwing an arm around her. "That's the spirit! And hey, if you ever need a translation between 'wizard nonsense' and 'actual facts,' I'm your girl."
Neville, ever the steady voice of reason, added, "And we're all here to figure it out together. First-years, new beginnings, and all that."
Daphne gave a slow, calculating smile. "And plenty of chaos along the way."
Tracey gave a lazy stretch, looking amused. "Speaking of which, what are the odds we get through the year without some kind of ridiculous adventure?"
Harry smirked. "Oh, absolutely zero. With me around? We're doomed."
As the train sped towards Hogwarts, their laughter filled the compartment, the promise of adventure hanging thick in the air. Whatever myths and legends surrounded him, Harry was just glad to be surrounded by people who saw beyond them—to the boy he really was.
—
The conversation had drifted into safer, more mundane waters—or at least, that's what they thought.
"So, which houses do you all think you'll end up in?" Susan asked, casually stretching her legs across the seat. "I know my family's mostly Hufflepuff, but I could totally rock Ravenclaw. Maybe even Gryffindor."
"Oh, you 'could totally rock' Ravenclaw?" Harry snorted. "What, because you can name all the Bertie Bott's flavors without gagging?"
Susan gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "How dare you! I'll have you know, I have an impeccable memory." She leaned forward. "Go on. Test me."
Harry smirked, exchanging a glance with Tracey, who immediately perked up. "Alright, let's see…" Tracey tapped her chin theatrically. "How many times have you tripped over your own feet since we boarded this train?"
Susan scowled. "That's not memory, that's just you being mean."
Tonks, who had been sprawled across her seat upside-down for the last few minutes, perked up. "For what it's worth, I'm definitely making Hufflepuff look bad in the coordination department." She flailed a hand towards her nose. "Pretty sure I broke this twice before breakfast."
Neville grimaced. "Hufflepuff? You? No offense, but aren't they known for, like… competence?"
"First of all, rude." Tonks flipped herself over with all the grace of a startled hippogriff. "Second of all, we contain multitudes."
Daphne arched a perfect, unimpressed eyebrow. "Multitudes of bruises, maybe."
"Exactly." Tonks grinned. "Battle scars of being completely and unapologetically me."
Hermione, meanwhile, was visibly vibrating with thoughts. "I just don't understand how the Sorting Hat determines placement! I mean, is it purely personality? Potential? Heritage? And what if you don't fit into just one category?"
"Oh, yeah, existential crisis about school placements before we even get there," Harry drawled. "Love this energy. Keep it up."
Hermione ignored him. "I mean, take Neville, for example. He comes from a long line of Gryffindors, but he's also incredibly hardworking and kind—he'd do well in Hufflepuff!"
Neville blinked. "Uh."
"Or take Tracey!" Hermione continued. "She's quick-witted and creative, so Ravenclaw would be a great fit, but she's also fiercely loyal to her friends, which is a Hufflepuff trait."
Tracey leaned back, unimpressed. "Are you saying I don't have the sheer 'cunning ambition' to be in Slytherin?"
"I—well—"
"Because I will steal your homework if you leave it unattended," Tracey added.
Susan grinned. "And I'll charm it to insult you in iambic pentameter when you do."
Harry whistled. "Now that's teamwork. If you two aren't in the same house, I'm putting in a request for a transfer."
Daphne shook her head. "Honestly, the lot of you are insufferable."
"Is that Slytherin for 'I love you guys'?" Tonks asked, grinning.
Daphne fixed her with a blank stare. "No."
"You sure?"
"Extremely."
Hannah, who had been quiet up until now, giggled. "I like this group. You're all weird, but in a fun way."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Harry said. "Though I'm guessing if you were hoping for a normal group of friends, you've chosen poorly."
"Oh, I picked this train compartment on purpose," Hannah admitted. "Watching you all argue is better than the wireless."
The Hogwarts Express continued its journey, the rhythm of the tracks a steady backdrop to their laughter and lively conversation. For the first time in his life, Harry wasn't just a name in a book, a myth in someone else's story. He was here, surrounded by people who saw him for who he really was—sarcastic, occasionally reckless, and absolutely done with everyone's nonsense. And, for once, he wouldn't have it any other way.
—
As the Hogwarts Express chugged closer to Hogsmeade Station, the excitement in the compartment reached a fever pitch. Conversations overlapped, a mix of eager anticipation and nervous energy buzzing through the air. Harry, Hermione, Tonks, Susan, Neville, Daphne, Tracey, and Hannah were engaged in a chaotic but thoroughly entertaining debate over which house was superior.
"Obviously, Gryffindor is the best," Hermione stated firmly, arms crossed, her expression that of a scholar presenting indisputable facts.
"Bold statement, Granger. Bit predictable, though, don't you think?" Daphne smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Slytherin has a reputation for producing the most powerful witches and wizards."
"Yeah, and also the highest concentration of future prison inmates," Tracey quipped, earning a snort from Neville.
"Oi, not all Slytherins are bad," Daphne shot back. "Just like not all Gryffindors are reckless idiots."
"She's right," Harry said lazily, stretching his legs. "Some of them live long enough to regret their life choices."
Tonks, lounging with her feet up, grinned. "See, now that's the kind of leadership we need in Gryffindor! Pragmatic, sarcastic, and deeply concerning."
"Honestly, I just hope I don't get sorted into a house where I have to wake up before eight," Susan said, yawning dramatically.
"Hufflepuff's looking real good for you, then," Neville noted dryly. "Their dormitories are right next to the kitchens. You could roll straight from bed to breakfast."
Susan gasped. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of this? Hufflepuff supremacy, confirmed."
Before the conversation could spiral further, the compartment door slid open, drawing everyone's attention. Standing in the doorway, radiating smugness like a badly cast Lumos, was Draco Malfoy, flanked by his towering lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Well, well, well," Draco drawled, perfectly balancing aristocratic disdain and theatrical arrogance. "Potter and his merry band of—what is this? A support group for misfits? A charity project?"
Harry glanced at his friends, then back at Draco, unfazed. "Nice entrance, Malfoy. Was that rehearsed, or does your father send you weekly scripts?"
Susan snorted, while Tonks outright cackled.
Draco's sneer flickered, but he recovered quickly. "Just giving you some friendly advice, Potter. Not everyone is worth your time."
Harry smirked. "Oh, trust me, I know. That's why I keep our conversations short."
Draco's eye twitched. He turned his gaze to Hermione. "And what do we have here? A Muggle-born, I presume?"
Hermione stiffened slightly, but before she could retort, Harry leaned forward with an easy grin. "Ah, yes, Malfoy. This is Hermione Granger. She's brilliant, unlike you, and has actually read a book. You might find that intimidating."
Tracey snickered. "Careful, Potter. You're going to give him an identity crisis."
Draco's sneer deepened, but only Harry noticed the slight hesitation in his posture. He was playing a role, the one expected of him by his father's associates. But Harry also knew the truth—the Black Dragon Legion had plans for Draco, just as they had once had plans for his mother, Narcissa Black-Malfoy. Narcissa was training her son to be more than just a Malfoy heir; she was preparing him to be a spy, a double agent maneuvering through the intricate political web of the wizarding world.
"Think what you want, Potter," Draco said smoothly. "But don't say I didn't warn you when you find yourself surrounded by traitors."
Harry's grin widened. "Funny, that's exactly what I was about to tell you."
Draco's expression flickered—just for a moment, just enough for Harry to catch it—before he straightened, signaling Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. "See you around, Potter."
As the door slid shut, a collective sigh filled the compartment. Hermione turned to Harry, brows raised. "What was that about?"
"Oh, just Malfoy trying to live up to the family name while internally dying a little," Harry said casually. "I give him six months before he realizes he's in over his head."
"Oh, I'm sure he already knows," Daphne murmured, watching the closed door thoughtfully.
Neville shook his head. "Still, that was… an experience."
"You get used to it," Susan said breezily. "Well, some of us do. Others—" she gestured vaguely at Draco's retreating form "—develop coping mechanisms that involve excessive hair gel and daddy issues."
Tonks cackled again. "Oh, I think I'm going to love it here."
As the train began to slow, signaling their arrival at Hogsmeade Station, the excitement in the air became almost tangible. They gathered their belongings, the energy among them electric with anticipation.
Harry glanced at his friends and grinned. This was the start of something real. A new beginning, a fresh adventure, and for once, he wasn't facing it alone. Whatever Hogwarts had in store, they were ready.
—
As the Hogwarts Express screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, the usual first-year mix of excitement and nervous energy practically vibrated through the air. The platform was a chaotic symphony of chatter, owls hooting indignantly, and students stumbling over their own trunks.
Harry, ever the picture of calm amusement, stepped off the train with Hermione, Tonks, Susan, Neville, Daphne, Tracey, and Hannah in tow. He took in the scene with a smirk, his emerald eyes flickering with barely concealed anticipation.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
The deep, booming voice cut through the noise, and all heads turned toward the towering figure of Rubeus Hagrid. With his massive frame, wild tangle of hair, and an overcoat that could double as a tent, he was impossible to miss.
"Blimey," Neville muttered, staring up at him. "You reckon he wrestles trolls for fun?"
"I mean, I would," Tonks chimed in, her hair shifting to a vibrant magenta. "You've seen my coordination. If I'm gonna trip and fall into something dangerous, I might as well make it entertaining."
Susan crossed her arms with an amused look. "That's an interesting take on life choices, but not surprising."
"'Scuse me, but are you sayin' I wrestle trolls?" Hagrid grinned as he approached, his dark eyes twinkling with good humor.
Tonks didn't even hesitate. "I dunno, you tell us, big guy. Any troll-throwing hobbies we should know about?"
Hagrid chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Only on weekends." He then spotted Harry and broke into a massive smile. "Harry Potter! I'd recognize yeh anywhere. Yeh got yer mum's eyes."
Harry extended his hand, shaking Hagrid's enormous one without hesitation. "And you've got the best beard I've ever seen. Seriously, it's majestic."
Tracey tilted her head. "Yeah, do you groom that thing, or does it just naturally stay that magnificent?"
Hagrid let out another booming laugh. "Ah, well, it takes some care, yeh know. Gotta keep it nice and fluffy."
"Teach me your ways," Daphne deadpanned. "My hair routine takes hours. If I could just let it be 'fluffy' and call it a day, I'd have so much more free time."
Hagrid beamed. "Well, reckon we can talk hair care after we get yeh all sorted out. Now, follow me. We'll be takin' the boats across the lake. Best way to see Hogwarts for the first time!"
The first-years scrambled after Hagrid, excitement bubbling over as they made their way down the narrow, winding path toward the lake. The night air was crisp, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled their lungs. The distant hoot of an owl punctuated the sounds of footsteps crunching on the forest path.
When they finally emerged at the shoreline, the sight that greeted them was breathtaking—Hogwarts, perched on its cliffside, illuminated like a beacon against the dark sky. The castle's turrets and towers stretched high, their golden lights reflecting on the glassy surface of the lake.
The group paused, momentarily stunned into silence.
"Well," Hannah finally breathed, "that's a bit grander than I was expecting."
Harry smirked. "Yeah, I was really hoping for a run-down shack. What a disappointment."
Tonks elbowed him playfully. "Right? I mean, I was promised drafty corridors and ghost infestations. What is this majestic nonsense?"
Hagrid grinned. "Oh, yeh'll get the ghosts. Don't you worry."
"Four to a boat!" Hagrid called out, motioning to the small vessels bobbing gently in the water.
Harry climbed into a boat with Hermione, Tonks, and Neville. Susan, Daphne, Tracey, and Hannah clambered into the one beside them.
As the boats glided forward, propelled by unseen magic, Hermione let out a soft gasp. "This is incredible."
Harry leaned back, arms crossed lazily. "Yeah, well, let's enjoy it while we can. In about an hour, we're going to be at the mercy of an old talking hat deciding our fate."
Tracey snorted. "Imagine if the hat glitches and just starts assigning people at random."
"'Congratulations, you're all in Hufflepuff,'" Daphne imitated in a monotone voice.
Susan arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me, and what would be so bad about that?"
Harry smirked. "Yeah, Slytherins might be ambitious, but you lot have access to the best snacks. Hufflepuff common room's right by the kitchens, isn't it?"
Hannah grinned. "That's classified information."
Neville, still looking slightly green from the boat ride, muttered, "I don't care where I end up, as long as it's on solid ground."
Tonks patted him on the back. "If you fall in, don't worry. I'll totally rescue you."
Neville eyed her suspiciously. "That's not comforting."
"You'll be fine, Nev," Harry said with a smirk. "Just don't let the giant squid drag you under."
Neville paled. "The what?"
—
The boats glided smoothly over the inky black lake, the water reflecting the silver glow of the stars. The first-years sat in awed silence—well, most of them. A few couldn't help but fill the air with chatter.
"Alright, I'll admit it," Tonks said, shifting excitedly in her seat, her hair flashing between bubblegum pink and deep blue. "This is way cooler than I expected. Proper magical and everything."
"I thought you grew up around magic?" Hermione asked, though her own voice was thick with wonder, her gaze locked onto the horizon.
"Yeah, but this? This is next-level! Like walking into a fairy tale!" Tonks flailed her hands, nearly knocking Neville's hat into the water.
"Oi! Watch it!" Neville yelped, grabbing at his hat just in time.
Susan smirked. "Face it, Longbottom, you were about to let the lake claim another victim."
"That was one time!" Neville grumbled.
"One time is all it takes to earn a reputation, Nev," Tracey said, her smirk widening. "We'll make sure 'Hat-Dropper Extraordinaire' makes it into Hogwarts history."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Let's just hope he doesn't drop himself overboard, or we'll have to fish him out before we even get sorted."
"Hah! If anyone's going overboard, it's Tracey," Daphne added, examining her nails with a practiced air of aristocratic boredom. "She's the one who always manages to get herself into unfortunate situations."
Tracey gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "I am wounded, Greengrass. You betray me!"
Daphne shrugged. "You'd do the same to me."
"Obviously. But that's not the point."
Hagrid's booming voice carried across the water. "Look ahead, everyone! There she is!"
The chatter ceased as all eyes turned toward the looming silhouette in the distance. Gasps rippled through the boats as Hogwarts Castle came into view, a grand fortress of stone rising against the night sky, its many towers and turrets glowing with golden light.
Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's… breathtaking."
"I know, right?" Hannah whispered, her voice tinged with excitement. "It's like something out of a dream."
Harry grinned. "Yeah. The kind of dream that makes everything else seem dull in comparison."
"Poetic, Potter," Susan quipped. "What's next? You gonna recite some Shakespeare?"
Harry smirked. "Oh, absolutely. 'All the world's a stage… and you're all my audience.'"
Tracey rolled her eyes. "He's unbearable."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry shot back smoothly.
Hagrid chuckled from his boat ahead. "Ah, you lot are gonna have fun here, I can tell. Now, heads up—next stop, the castle!"
The boats began their final approach, passing under an ivy-covered stone archway that led toward the castle's underground docking area. The flickering torchlight made the stone walls glow warmly, casting elongated shadows over the water.
As they neared the dock, Daphne adjusted her posture, looking effortlessly composed. "Alright, everyone, let's not embarrass ourselves."
Tonks grinned wickedly. "Oh, please. That ship has sailed."
Harry smirked. "And in some cases, nearly sunk."
Neville groaned. "I will never live this down, will I?"
"Not a chance, mate," Susan confirmed cheerfully.
As the boats gently bumped against the dock, Hagrid stepped onto the platform and turned to help them out. "Off yeh go! Welcome to Hogwarts!"
Harry took a deep breath, excitement bubbling in his chest. This was it. The beginning of something incredible.
And he couldn't wait.
—
Hagrid led them up the stone staircase, his massive boots thudding against the worn steps. The great oak doors of the castle loomed ahead, carved with intricate patterns and gleaming with centuries of history. With a fist the size of a Quaffle, Hagrid knocked hard, sending a reverberating boom through the air. The door creaked open to reveal Professor McGonagall, her sharp gaze sweeping over the assembled first-years like a hawk surveying its prey.
"Thank you, Hagrid," she said crisply, nodding in appreciation.
"No problem, Professor," Hagrid replied with a grin, his bushy beard twitching as he turned to give the students an encouraging wink. "Good luck, all of yeh. Try not ter get eaten."
A boy named Ron Weasley, who was already looking paler than Nearly Headless Nick, let out a strangled noise. "E-eaten?"
McGonagall sighed but did not correct Hagrid. Instead, she turned her attention to the students. "Welcome to Hogwarts. In a few moments, you will enter the Great Hall and be sorted into your Houses. Your House will be like your family while you are here at Hogwarts. Follow me."
As they trailed after her, the murmuring among the students picked up, especially as a few overheard Ron mumbling something about his brothers mentioning a troll.
"Wait, wait, wait," Harry said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Are you telling me that we have to fight a troll to get sorted?"
Ron swallowed hard and nodded. "My brothers Fred and George said it was tradition."
"Oh, that's nothing," Susan chimed in, flicking her hair dramatically. "My Auntie Amelia told me they put you in a room full of Boggarts, and you have to duel your worst fear. The faster you win, the better House you get."
Ron turned a shade whiter. "That… that's mad."
"Not as mad as the dragon," Tonks added cheerfully. "I heard they let the first-years ride a dragon, and whoever stays on longest gets to pick their House."
"Honestly," Daphne said, crossing her arms, "it's obviously a test of intelligence. They drop you in a maze full of magical creatures, and you have to find your way out without getting turned into a toad."
Tracey smirked. "Oh, I heard they just put you in front of a mirror that shows your soul, and if it's dark, you go to Slytherin."
Daphne shot her a glare. "Excuse me?"
Neville, acting like he regretted every life choice that brought him to this moment, whimpered, "What if I get eaten before I even make it to a House?"
"Then you were never worthy of Hogwarts," Harry said solemnly. "Survival of the fittest."
Hermione, who had been trying to hold back her laughter, finally huffed. "You lot are impossible. The Sorting is done by a magical hat that decides where you belong based on your personality and values."
There was a pause.
Then Tonks let out a dramatic gasp. "A talking hat?"
Hannah, who had been silent up to this point, finally spoke, her voice filled with horror. "You mean… we have to fight the hat?!"
Ron groaned and looked like he wanted to pass out. "I'm going to die before I even see a single Chocolate Frog card."
McGonagall, who had been eavesdropping with the kind of exasperation only years of teaching could bring, finally turned to them. "If you are quite done fabricating increasingly ridiculous theories, perhaps we can proceed."
The group fell silent, though Tonks was still miming what appeared to be an epic battle against an imaginary hat behind McGonagall's back.
Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder as they stepped into the grand entrance hall. "Don't worry, mate. If you pass out, I'll drag you to Gryffindor."
"I thought you were going to let me get eaten," Ron muttered weakly.
"Only if you slow me down."
—
As the massive oak doors of the Great Hall swung open, the first-years collectively sucked in a breath. The room was nothing short of breathtaking. Above them, the enchanted ceiling stretched endlessly, mirroring the vast night sky, its stars twinkling like diamonds against the velvety blackness. Hundreds of floating candles bobbed gently in the air, casting a warm, flickering glow over the four long tables, where the older students sat, their faces filled with curiosity and amusement at the fresh batch of first-years.
"Holy crap," Tonks muttered, tilting her head back until she nearly lost her balance. "That ceiling's either enchanted, or we've been kidnapped by a wizard version of The Truman Show."
Susan snorted. "I'd say enchanted. Unless there's an entire department in the Ministry dedicated to changing the weather for Hogwarts every night."
Neville's mouth hung open. "Merlin's beard… It's like stepping into a dream."
Daphne arched a delicate eyebrow. "If this is a dream, then whose fevered imagination are we all trapped in?"
"Mine, obviously," Harry deadpanned. "You're all just my supporting cast. I'm the brooding, mysterious protagonist."
Tracey smirked. "Please, I'm the fan-favorite. The edgy best friend with sharp wit and morally ambiguous tendencies."
Tonks flipped her bubblegum-pink hair. "Move over. If anyone's the comic relief-slash-scene-stealer, it's me."
Ron, who had been glancing around nervously, leaned in and whispered, "It's the Sorting Hat! We just have to put it on, and it tells us our House!"
Hermione, who had been let in on the secret by Harry and the others, merely gave a knowing smile as the rest of the group exchanged devious grins.
"That's what they want you to think, Weasley," Harry said, his voice dripping with ominous gravitas. "But the Sorting is far more complicated."
Ron paled. "Wh-what do you mean?"
Daphne crossed her arms. "The Hat only sorts those it deems worthy. If not… well…"
Tracey picked up smoothly, "They drop you through a hidden trapdoor straight into the Black Lake. Hope you can swim."
Neville mock-swallowed. "You're joking."
Tonks grinned. "Nope. And you have to get past the giant squid before they let you back in."
Susan, in her best storytelling voice, added, "And if the Hat really doesn't like you, it just disappears off your head and poof! You vanish into nothingness."
Ron's face had gone white. "That—That's not true!"
"Would your brothers really tell you the truth?" Daphne asked innocently.
Ron made a strangled noise in his throat.
Hannah, who had been silent until now, chimed in with unsettling cheerfulness. "Oh, and let's not forget trial by combat if the Hat's on the fence about you. Last year they used Peeves."
Ron whimpered.
Before the panic could escalate further, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, her sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered first-years. Instantly, the chatter died down.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice carrying through the hall effortlessly. "Before you take your places at your House tables, you must be sorted. The Sorting is a vital tradition that determines which House you will call home for the next seven years. Your House will be like your family. You will eat together, sleep together, and share classes together. The Houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."
Ron visibly relaxed. "See? Just a Hat. No combat. No disappearing into the abyss."
"Yeah, yeah, until the Hat starts digging through your memories and announces your most embarrassing secret to the whole Hall," Harry said casually.
Ron let out a squeak.
Before any more nonsense could be thrown his way, a deep, gravelly voice suddenly rang out, startling everyone.
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat you up and swallow you whole If you don't belong to me."
The Sorting Hat let the pause hang dramatically before continuing.
"Oh, wait. Wrong verse. Hold on. Let's try that again."
A few students in the older years snorted, while the first-years exchanged nervous glances.
"Ah, here we go—
Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat—er—sort you fairly Where you're meant 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 you will surely see, The House that's best, the House that's right, The House where you should be!"
The Hall burst into polite applause.
"Well, that was a letdown," Tonks said, arms crossed. "I was hoping for some heavy metal screeching."
Susan smirked. "Or at least a rap."
McGonagall, unbothered by their antics, unrolled a long parchment and called the first name.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
Hannah made a noise that was a mix between a squeak and a gulp before stepping forward. She cast one last glance at her friends, who all grinned at her with varying degrees of encouragement and mischief.
Harry leaned over to Neville. "Well, let's see who gets eaten by the Hat first."
---
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