Taking After the Wrong Wizard

The steam from the train was warm against the skin of the first year students’ calves, as they exited the Hogwarts. The burley mountain of a man before them frightened most of the children, all except Harry. He gotten to know Hagrid a bit in Diagon Alley while shopping for school supplies. “Yer firs years’ll be lov’n Hogwarts. Ain’t no safer nic’r place n’ ol’ the world,” Hagrid chimed in. His kindly demeanor out weight his height and mirth.

Once they reached the two large decorative doors to the castle, Harry wondered how much easier dealing with the Dursley’s punishments had he known all the pain would have led to such an amazing outcome. Hogwarts felt warm and welcoming; like a real home. It was all oddly familiar. Harry liked the peculiar ambiance. The friendly ghosts in the wall and curtious talking paintings. It was all so unusual and wonderful all at the same time. Any sane person would have been leery but Harry felt safe. Probably more so than any other place on earth. He knew deep in his gut that Hogwarts was where he’d be free.

The serene tranquil feel quickly changed when Hagrid relinquished the role of tour guide to a rather tall and older woman in an emerald green cloak. With a stern purse of her lips she gazed over the crowd as if she was sizing up fresh meat. “I am Professor McGonigal, I will be instructing you in Transfiguration. I expect most of you have already looked through your course manuals and have some resemblance of an idea of what this years curriculmn entails. Before we hone your magical skills, you must be placed into houses. I am the head of the Griffindor House but the other house options are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Every house is different and you will be sorted and placed in the house that best suites you. You can think of them as exclusive clubs. The better you perform in class the more acclaim you and your house will receive. The more you fail to live up to the schools expectations, the less recognition your house will be bestowed. At the end of the Year the top house is awarded the House Cup. Incidently, Griffindor tends to win this honor. Maybe that will change with your lot and maybe it won’t.” Harry looked over at Ron who was beaming with anticipation. Harry thought professor McGonigal’s speech was rather curt and very one sided. “I will return shortly to take you into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony.”

As she walked away a whisper fell over the crowd. No one really knew what was to come. “How are we sorted” one nervous boy asked another. “I think it will be a test,” replyed a comely brunette with sparkly blue eyes. Harry noticed her but switched gears when he realized he had no idea with house he wanted to be part of nor did he know how difficult the “test” would be. “Ron, what house do you hope to go to?” Ron looked at Harry like he was a muggle with six heads. “Blimee Harry, Griffindor of course. My whole family has been in it. I mean the other houses are alright but none of them hold a candle to Griffindor. Besides you heard McGonigal, they always win. Don’t you like to win?” He asked in an obvious manner. In fact the manner was down right offensive to Harry, “Well Bolicks! Why bother having houses if there all rubbish except your cherished Griffindor. I think your bloody biast.” Ron looked at him with an expression that resembled hurt, “Oh well, everyone’s got their own opinion I guess.” With a shrug they both looked forward awaiting their scholastic fate.

From behind, Harry could hear Hermoine, yet another acquaintance mumbling rapidly. “A test. I bet it will a chalenge. Hmm what spells should I use. Wait, maybe it is a test of willpower…bolicks, I wish we were given a syllabus for these things.” Her insesive babbling was grading on both Ron and Harry’s ears. “Such a know-it-all,” Ron chirped.

Suddenly the towering doors before them opened and again the first year students were being led down a nameless cooridor to the last set of doors. “Behind these doors are the whole of the school. Every class mate every Professor and of course our Head Master Albus Dumbledor. This ceremony is your first and possibly most important…only second to graduation. Keep your heads and conduct yourself in manner fitting a witch or wizard. And for God sakes tuck in your shirt,” McGonigal harped.

As the doors opened the children could hear laughter and noisy chatter from the Great Hall. The Hall’s illuminous grandeur had Harry spell-bound. He leaned over to Ron and whispered, “this must be what heaven is like.” Sauntering down the aisle with countless rows of strangers left Harry feeling panic striken.

Inexplicably the crowd fell to a hush as Professor McGonigal placed a tall ratty hat on a stool. Hermoine gasped, “ Oh God, we have to bewitch a manky old hat.” Both Ron and Harry glanced at her bewildered and sincerely hoping she was wrong. Just then the hat shimmied and ripped open near the brim, as if it was ready to speak. To Harry’s amazement the hat started to sing. The song loud and scratchy, depicted the different houses. For the life of Harry he couldn’t concentrate on wonderous hat. Something or rather someone held his focus. Across the crowd stood that same lovely brunette from the coorridor moments earlier. She was slender and a bit over developed for her age. Biting her lip she looks away from the hat as if she was dismayed. When their eyes met Harry straightened up and flashed his most dashing smile. The blue eyed girl shyly smiled back then awkwardly looked away.

One by one Children were called to sit on the stool. The sorting hat was placed on their head. “Hufflepuff” it bellowed. Harry’s stomach knotted with every name. Professor McGonigal peered at her list, “Aquaria Broombottom.” Harry looked around to find the face that belonged to the name. To his surprise it belonged to the appealing brunette.

Ron’s mouth dropped as she sat on the stool, “Wow! Now that is a nice piece. Ease on the eyes huh Harry?” Just then the hat called out Slytherin. Ron shook his head, “Damn shame. Every wizard in Slytherin goes bad. Rotten to the core I’m telling you.” Harry thought about reaction but he chose to let it go, why start an argument in front of a bunch of strangers who soon would be class mates.

After several names Harry’s was called. He slowly walked on stage and sat down. “Aww, Potter. Wondered when I’d meet you. Where shall I put you. Intelligent, talented, hmmm. Slytherin!” Harry couldn’t decide if he was happy or shocked. One thing was for sure Hermoine and Ron were floored. What future could the boy-who-lived have in Slytherin?