Black Dawn Ch.16: The Sorting

Gravel crunched under his boots as Harry stepped ashore, extending his hand to help Susan out. She straightened her hat and gave him a small smile before they followed the giant groundskeeper’s looming form up the broad stone steps. Torches burned along the walls, the crackle of flame casting long, pointed hat-shadows across the stone.

He spotted Daphne and Tracey walking just ahead, talking in hushed whispers until Tracey caught his eye and gave him a nervous smile. The two of them slowed down to get onto the same step as them, until the students ahead stopped.

“Everyone here?” The groundskeeper, who had introduced himself as Hagrid, cast a look over the gathered students, a pair of giant oak doors looming behind him. “Good, good.” 

The groundskeeper turned and knocked, each knock echoing like a booming thump through the stone steps. The doors swung open at once, and a tall witch emerged, the torchlight shining over her dark emerald robes and her black hair as her gaze swept over the students.

“The first years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid declared, and she gave him a tight nod, the corners of her lips crinkling into a small smile.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here.” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang down the steps like a sharp knife, before she pulled the doors wide open. “Come, follow me, students.”

Everyone scrambled up the stairs after her, no one daring to speak even in a whisper as she led them through a vast entrance hall, the sound of their boots ringing over the flagstone floor like the pitter-patter of raindrops. 

Harry’s eyes darted to look around the castle’s entrance, going wide as he had to crane his neck to spot the ceiling that was so high above that he could barely make it out. 

‘I could fly a broom through here or even play Quidditch.’ 

His eyes caught the paintings that hung on the side, their inhabitants chatting excitedly in hushed whispers as they passed by them. Suddenly, Susan’s fingers gripped his arm, and she drew his gaze to a magnificent set of marble staircases that led to the upper floors, the beautiful chiseled marble and golden railings catching the torchlight as the stairs moved on their own.

‘The moving stairs of Hogwarts that Uncle Ted talks about.’ Harry’s breath hitched. ‘Wow.’

They approached a set of grand doors through which Harry could hear the chatter of the students, and a lance of excitement shot through him. But the professor led them past the doors, into a smaller, empty chamber next to it. Everyone crowded around her as she turned to them, many shuffling nervously as her gaze swept over them once more. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts.” Her lips tugged into the slightest of smiles. “The start-of-the-term banquet will begin shortly, but only after you’ve been sorted into your houses. The sorting ceremony is of utmost importance because your house will be your family for the next seven years to come.” For a moment, her eyes met Harry’s, and he could’ve sworn her smile widened. “The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own virtues, its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards, perhaps amongst whom you’ll stand one day.”

Harry felt a small flame burn in his chest. ‘Great witches and wizards just like my parents.’

“The sorting ceremony will begin shortly in the Great Hall,” Professor McGonagall continued. “I suggest you all smarten yourself up the best you can in the meantime.” Her eyes went to someone at the front of the group. “I shall return once we’re ready for you. I expect all of you to maintain decorum while I am gone.”

She turned and disappeared through a door on the side that Harry hadn’t noticed until then, as the students began to whisper amongst themselves.

“The sorting’s some sort of test, I think,” A red-headed boy talked loudly with his friend, and many turned to listen. “Fred said it hurts a lot, and George said that they once brought a troll, which every first year had to get past. But I think he was joking.”

Whispers spread like wildfire amongst the group, and Harry felt a stab of nervousness pierce his chest.

“A troll?” Tracey whispered loudly, her face paling. “That’s… that’s…”

“Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous,” Daphne declared. “They aren’t going to have untrained witches and wizards fight a dangerous creature.”

“But the task may not be to fight it,” Susan suggested, motioning toward the redhead. “They might see how we handle the situation. If someone charges to fight at it, they’re brave and go to Gryffindor. If they find some clever way around, they are Ravenclaw. If they do something cunning, it is Slytherin. And if they work very hard to get a solution, it’s Hufflepuff.”

Tracey seemed to pale even more while Harry scoffed. “That seems overly complicated. They’re all in there waiting for dinner, so whatever it is, it will be fast or fast enough. Over fifty students figuring out a way around a troll would take ages.”

“Maybe it is a written test?” Tracey mumbled. “Based on the answers you choose, they’ll magically sort you. Like a personality test.”

“I—”

“So is it true what they were saying on the train?” A voice drawled behind Harry. “That Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts?”

As students around him gasped, Harry slowly turned to see a boy with slicked, platinum blonde hair and a pale, pointed face standing behind him, flanked by two taller, burly boys.

“That’s what I’ve been told this place is, so I suppose I am at Hogwarts.” Harry gave him a polite smile. “I would be rather put out if this turns out to be some other school.”

The boy smirked, gesturing to the boys flanking him. “This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

Behind Draco, the red-headed boy snorted loudly. As Draco spun around to face the boy, screams rang across the chamber, and Harry felt Susan’s fingers grasp his wrist painfully.

He followed her gaze to see several pearly white figures float out of the walls, glancing down upon them.

“New students!” A ghost beamed at them, drifting closer. “Welcome to our home! I hope to see you all in my old house, Hufflepuff.” He bowed, his ghostly belly bobbing up and down. “I’m Friar, at your service.”

Many students nodded mutedly.

“Move along now,” Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through the room. “The sorting ceremony is about to begin, and you all must be by your houses.”

The ghosts obeyed her, drifting off through the opposite while Susan and Harry exchanged a look.

“I didn’t know Hogwarts was haunted,” Tracey whispered.

“There are scores of ghosts at Hogwarts. Even the history professor is one,” Daphne whispered back before her mouth snapped shut as the professor’s eyes drifted to her.

“Now, students, form a line and follow me for the sorting,” the Professor declared. “I’ll be taking you to the Great Hall.”

Harry felt like his legs were turning to jelly as he trudged into the line behind Susan and they followed the stream of students. As he entered the Great Hall, he forgot to breathe. 

Hundreds of candles floated under the twinkling stars of the night sky as moonlight fell across the grand House banners that hung right above the tables where the senior students sat, looking at them as they walked behind Professor McGonagall. 

Susan leaned back as they came to a halt in the center of the Great Hall. 

“That’s Albus Dumbledore,” Susan whispered, and Harry’s eyes drifted to the head table, where an old man with a magnificent white beard sat in the center, his eyes twinkling over the gathered students.

“Well, he’s the headmaster, so he should be here, shouldn’t he?” Harry answered. As he spoke, Dumbledore’s blue eyes met his, and Harry could’ve sworn that he saw the Headmaster wink at him before turning to talk to the small professor beside him as if nothing had happened.

A soft thud drew his attention back to the front, where Professor McGonagall had set a four-legged stool before placing an ancient, patched wizarding hat upon it. 

The entire hall fell silent, and Harry felt his insides twist into a knot as the candles seemed to flicker and every eye fell to the stool. The next moment, the brim opened wide like a mouth, and astonishingly, the hat sang.

“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty, but don’t judge on what you see,

I’ll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall.

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and I can cap them all.”

Susan gave Harry a wide-eyed look as the song continued in the driest, yet most melodious voice he’d ever heard. The hat sang of the four Founders—Gryffindor’s daring, Hufflepuff’s fairness, Ravenclaw’s wit, and Slytherin’s ambition—until the final verse faded into silence.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the hat slumped motionless once more. A heartbeat later, the Hall broke into applause, and Harry joined in.

“That’s insane,” Susan whispered, and he nodded.

‘Uncle Ted would kill to know how to make a singing hat.’

“When I call your name, you shall put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall said as the applause died. “Abbott Hannah!”

A girl slid past Harry, stumbling out of the crowd and slowly walking up to the stool as her eyes darted around. The hat dropped onto her head, and a moment later, the hat’s brim opened wide.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat declared, and the table, the one with the yellow banner above it, broke into loud cheers as Hannah made her way to sit amongst them.

“Bones Susan,” the professor called. 

Harry felt his heart twist as he looked at Susan, who seemed to steel herself. Giving him one last glance, she made her way to the stool, and McGonagall placed the hat on her head, which slid down right to her eyes while Harry held his breath.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat’s voice rang, and Harry clapped with the Hufflepuff table while Susan hopped off the stool and grinned widely at him, before making her way to sit beside Hannah.

‘Just like Aunty Amelia and her parents,’ Harry mused, glancing toward the Gryffindor table as Professor McGonagall called out another name. ‘I wonder if the hat will put me in the same house as my parents.’ He glanced toward the other side of the hall, where students sat under the green and silver banner. ‘Or in Slytherin like Grandpa.’

The list slipped from the surnames with Bs to the C’s and D’s, and he watched Tracey get sorted into Slytherin. She gave everyone a wide smile and made her way to the Slytherin table, sitting away from the stocky girl who had been sorted into the house too.

Harry watched as the bushy-haired girl who had been with Neville in the train walked up to the stool to get sorted into Gryffindor before the next name was called.

“Greengrass Daphne.”

Daphne slid out of the crowd of students and primly sat upon the stool, closing her eyes as the hat was put on her head. “SLYTHERIN!”

She gave the tiniest of smiles, rising to join Tracey at the green-and-silver table where the two immediately began chattering in hushed tones.

Bubbles of anxiety churned in his stomach as the list progressed further and the line dwindled. He saw Neville get sorted to Gryffindor while Malfoy and the two blurry boys with him went to Slytherin. 

By the time the professor reached the P’s, Harry’s hands felt cold, while he watched a pair of twins get sorted into different houses.

“Potter Harry.” 

Professor McGonagall’s sharp voice echoed through the hall, piercing through Harry’s heart like the sharp swords that the Blacks of old had collected.

Harry slowly stepped forward and strode to the stool, ignoring the wave of murmurs that swept through the hall as the students scrambled to get a better look at him. The professor gave him a tiny smile as he sat down on the stool before she placed the hat on his head. 

“Hmm, interesting,” a voice whispered in his ear as the hat’s fabric fell over his eyes. “Very interesting and very difficult. A Potter raised as a Black. There’s cunning and an ambition to prove yourself great. Slytherin would adore you. Oh, and there’s loyalty to your family that would have you fighting a dragon for them. And there’s courage too, naturally. Loads of it. So, where to put you?”

Harry felt his gut wrench as he thought of Susan having been sorted into Hufflepuff, while Dora was a Slytherin. And the picture of his parents in Gryffindor robes burned in his mind.

“Torn, are we?” The hat murmured. “Your loyalty and courage will always serve you well, Harry Potter. But Slytherin would lead you down the path of greatness and show you who you can be. So… better be SLYTHERIN!” 

Applause burst like a tidal wave from the Slytherin table, and as Harry stood slowly, his heart was still hammering in his chest. He saw Dora beaming at him from her seat as her hair turned yellow for a brief moment. His gaze drifted to Susan, who was clapping with the rest. 

As he made his way to the Slytherin table, Dora scooched away, and Harry sat beside her, just across from Tracey and Daphne.

“My little Harry’s in Slytherin just like his big sister!” Dora pulled him into an exaggerated hug as the applause died, smothering him before he could protest. “So proud!”

“Nymphadora,” Harry hissed in her ear, and she broke the hug immediately, glaring at him while her hair turned red. 

“I could hex you freely for that now, you know?” She said sweetly, her lips tugged into a menacing smile. “We are no longer home, and there’s no one to protect you from me, little Harry.”

Harry snorted. “Please. I would just write to Aunt Andy about anything you did, and then it’d be her hand and the back of your head while I laugh at your plight.”

She scowled. “You can’t always use the same threat on me. That’s cheating.”

“If a niffler keeps finding gold in a cave, why would it go somewhere else?” Harry shrugged, spotting Malfoy staring at them from several seats across. “If it works, it works, Nymphadora. Now, let’s focus here, shall we?”

Her hair reddened, but she gritted her teeth, glancing around quickly. “I’ll get back to you later, you little bugger.”

“No, you won’t,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder to look at the Hufflepuff table, and caught Susan’s eye, who smiled at him.

“Zabini Blaise,” Professor McGonagall’s voice echoed over the impatient whispers, and the last boy standing swaggered toward the stool, sitting down with a flourish of his robes.

“SLYTHERIN!” The hat declared a moment later, and the boy sauntered to their table, sitting next to Harry, giving him a wink and a toothy smile.

His attention was drawn away from the boy as a hush fell over the hall, and Harry looked up to see that Albus Dumbledore had risen to his feet, the candlelight gleaming against his silver beard as he smiled warmly at the students.

“Welcome! Welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts. Before we begin this year’s banquet, I would like to say a few words, and here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

The students applauded while Harry frowned, leaning closer to Dora. “What was that?”

“Oh, that’s just Dumbledore being Dumbledore.” Tonks grinned at the table, and he followed her gaze, his eyes widening as he saw a feast of food appear in front of him. “Don’t pay it much heed. He does it every year.” 

“So he just speaks nonsense? Isn’t he supposed to be the greatest wizard in the world?” Tracey asked, piling potatoes onto her plate.

Dora shrugged, pouring a spoonful of peas into Harry’s plate, who scowled at her. “Ravenclaws try to figure it out every year. They’re sure it’s some sort of puzzle, but I think he’s just messing with us.”

“I think I believe you,” an accented voice said from beside Harry, and he turned to see Blaise Zabini lean forward, smiling at Dora. “My mother believes all great and famous wizards we hear of are a bit… How do you say it? Mad in their own way?”

“Eccentric,” Dora said. “You aren’t British, are you?”

“Half-British. But I was born and raised in Italy— the finest place there is.” His smile broadened, and he extended his hand toward her, going across Harry’s plate. “I’m Blaise Zabini.”

“Tonks,” Dora said, and Blaise quirked an eyebrow. “Just Tonks. And you’re Angela’s brother.”

Blaise nodded. “As much as she pretends otherwise at times, I am. It is lovely to meet you, Tonks.”

Harry cleared his throat, looking pointedly at his plate, which was blocked by the boy’s arm. “Would you mind, mate?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you. It is just that my mother says I should always greet the lady first.” He winked at Dora and removed his hand, turning to Harry. “You must be Harry Potter. You’re somewhat famous even in Italy.”

“I know, I’ve been there once.” He picked up his cutlery. “It was a few years ago. My grandfather had some work there, and he took me with him. One of the wizards there asked him about news on Harry Potter while I sat an arm’s length away.”

“Someone saw you, and it didn’t make headlines?” Daphne frowned from across the table. “I know it didn’t because my sister would’ve squealed about it for a month.”

“Oh, I was under a disguise. I’ve been to Diagon Alley dozens of times, and I once even visited the Prophet’s printing press. No one knew I was there. If they knew, my Grandpa reckons they’d have a field day,” he snorted. “It was kind of funny if you think about it.”

“I’ll say.” Blaise grinned widely, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, Harry.”

Harry blinked. “We will, I suppose.”

“Oh, we’re going to have a world of fun.” Blaise thumped Harry on the back, loud enough to draw Malfoy’s attention from across the table. “It’s going to be simply incredible.”

Harry glanced around the hall, brimming with witches and wizards, and then down at his robes where the Slytherin emblem gleamed in the candlelight over his heart. 

‘I am at Hogwarts now.’ The thought sank into him like a cube of sugar into tea.

He glanced at Blaise. “Yes, it will be incredible.”

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As the food flowed, the conversation continued among the other students, who happily chatted among themselves as they dined. Besides Harry, Blaise was happily talking about Italy with Tracey, while Daphne and he listened in, and all of them ignored Malfoy, who was loudly bragging about yet another thing to anyone willing to listen.

“And I mean, the whole thing is very beautiful with all those gardens and the rustic buildings. Harry might know what I’m talking about,” Blaise said, drawing Harry in. “If he’s been to Italy, he’ll have visited the Sardinian gardens.”

He swallowed the mouthful of chicken and nodded. “I did, and they were beautiful,” Harry admitted, his eyes flicking to Tracey and Daphne. “It was like a muggle museum but for the witches of the night— they had a special name too, but they were said to have a special brand of magic unlike any other.”

“The Janara,” Blaise said. “That’s what they were called. To be descended from them is a thing of honor, one which my family can boast of.” He grinned. “You all should really visit Italy. Believe me, you’ll fall in love and move there from Britain. I can even give you a whole tour and whatever else you’d need. It’d be incredible.”

“If you don’t like Britain so much, why come to Hogwarts?” Daphne asked, arching a brow. “Doesn’t Italy have a good school for magic?”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “It is not about good, it is about the best, my dear Daphne. And Hogwarts is the best there is.” He shrugged. “And my mother wanted me to come here because it was where my father went. I told you, I’m half-British. Still doesn’t change the fact that it is more beautiful than Britain. I mean, any place would be with the weather, won’t it?”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that bit.” Tracey grimaced. “But we have our own set of attractions. I mean, the most powerful magical site in the world, Stonehedge, is right here.”

“It is a bunch of rocks,” Blaise said, and Tracey snorted. “What?”

“The rocks are for the muggles. The real place is a lot different,” Daphne said coolly, slicing into her lamb. “We’ll give you a whole tour someday. It’s a beautiful place and you’ll forget all about Italy and move here.”

Harry smothered his amusement at the boy’s words being thrown back in his face, but Blaise grinned. “To that, I’ll just say two words: Challenge… Accepted.”

“How do you intend to prove that exactly?” Harry asked with a laugh. 

“We both… no, we all go on a tour of Britain and Italy, and then we vote which place is the best. And when Italy wins, I win.”

Daphne’s lips curved into a grin. “Well, as they say it here, may the best witch win.”

As the conversation dwindled between them, and the main course gave way to an array of desserts, Harry glanced up from his sticky toffee pudding at the Head table, where a pale-faced man sat, staring down his hooked nose straight at Harry.

He stared back for a moment before the man looked away, and he turned to Dora. “Who’s the professor in the black robes?” 

“Oh, him? That’s Snape, head of our House. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Speaking of curiosity, what can you tell us about the subjects and the professors?” Daphne slid down her side of the table with her bowl of ice cream, leaning closer to Dora and her friends. “You’re a prefect, so you must know what we’re going to face, won’t you?”

Dora shrugged. “Looking back, it isn’t all that much that you’ll be studying in your first year or two at Hogwarts, really. It’s mostly the basic concepts and spells of each subject, though, they do lay a groundwork for what comes ahead, which makes it important, I reckon. So, listen to what your professors are saying and, um, do your homework well.” 

Besides Dora, her friends raised their eyebrows at her, and she glared at them all. 

“That makes sense, yes.” Daphne nodded, not noticing the others. “What else?”

“Blimey, never thought I’d be giving advice to anyone, but I suppose, you should know what the professors like while doing your assignments and stuff.” She scratched her head. “Professor McGonagall and Snape expect a more theoretical and book-based work, while Flitwick encourages more examples and your own thoughts in your work. Write it like that, and you’ll get good grades.” 

“McGonagall likes a nice conclusion which showcases your understanding at the end,” her friend added. “Whenever I do that, I get a better grade.”

“I should try that then,” Dora mused before turning back to Daphne. “Um, Sprout, the herbology professor likes diagrams and drawings, so there’s that and err… whom did I miss?”

“Binns for History and Sinistra for Astronomy,” another one of her friends said, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder. “I doubt Binns ever even reads our work. He just gives it all back with an Exceeds expectation. And Sinistra usually only gives quizzes and star-charts, so you just have to answer that correctly.”

Harry nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh, and one more thing. Don’t blow up a Cauldron in Snape’s class and definitely don’t impersonate him, ever. He doesn’t like that.”

Her group devolved into a fit of laughter, and Dora grinned, winking at Harry, who pinched his nose. 

“Do I even want to know?”

“If you must know, it was hilarious.” She grinned widely. “Only Snape didn’t like it. Everyone else did.”

He sighed, going back to his pudding and finishing the last of it with a lick of his spoon. 

Soon, the last of the desserts disappeared, and Daphne made a small, sad noise as her ice cream vanished, leaving the golden plates sparkling clean. Harry saw Blaise check his reflection in the shining golden plate and smothered a snort.

In seconds, the conversation around the table died down, and even Malfoy, who had been bragging about something Harry was paying little heed to, stopped speaking.

At the head table, Dumbledore had once again risen to his feet and cleared his throat. “Now that we’ve all had our fill of this wonderful feast, I have a few start-of-term notices that must be given before we retire for the night. To our first years, and some of the older students who would do well with a reminder, that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils.” He glanced at the Gryffindor table. “I’ve also been asked by our caretaker, Mr. Filch, to remind you all that magic is forbidden in the corridors, outside of classes.”

A haggard-looking, tall man with a nasty expression on his face stepped out of the shadows, holding a cat in his arms, and glared at everyone.

“The Quidditch trials for the house teams will be held soon, and those interested should contact Madam Hooch.” Dumbledore continued, his eyes running over the students. “And finally, I must announce that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to all those who do not wish to die a painful death.”

Some students laughed at that, but it quickly died down as they saw the expression on the Headmaster’s face.

“Is he serious?” Harry whispered to Dora, who nodded.

“Must be,” she murmured. “Dumbledore doesn’t kid around when giving instructions. Sure, he’s a bit whammy at the best of times, but he seems serious.”

Harry frowned but said nothing, watching as the whispers died down.

“Now, off to bed you all go.” Dumbledore declared. “Classes begin tomorrow morning for all students, and I expect all pupils to attend. Good night and may you have interesting dreams.”

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Footsteps echoed through the narrow, stone corridor as Harry and the rest of the first years followed the Fifth-year prefects down into the dungeons, the cold air biting into Harry’s skin.

“Right through here,” the female prefect said, stopping at a dead-end, next to the painting of a shipwreck. “Serpent’s lair.”

The wall in front of her rumbled and slid open, and they followed the two of them into a vast, rich room. Green banners hung off polished granite walls lined with elaborate snake motifs with eyes made of emeralds and fangs of silver, that gleamed in the green fire of the torches. 

In the center, several high-backed chairs and green couches were present, most gathered around a merrily crackling fireplace, next to which Dora stood, the fire casting shadows across her face while the other prefects stood beside her.

Malfoy let out a low whistle, smirking at them. “I told you all, the Slytherin common room is the best room in the castle, one only fit for the right kind.” 

He glanced disdainfully at Tracey but said nothing as Daphne stepped closer to her. 

“First-years,” Dora strode forward, eyeing the blonde boy. “Welcome to the Slytherin Common Room, where you’ll be spending a lot of time in the coming years. But first things first. You must never disclose to anyone from another house the location of this room or our password. The password changes every month and will be displayed on the board with all the other important notices. Try not to forget it, or you’ll be stuck outside. There’s also a curfew, so ensure you follow it with the other rules.”

Harry raised a quick eyebrow at her, and she gave back a tiny glare before clearing her throat.

“If you have any problems, bring them to us or Professor Snape. He’s the Head of Slytherin. Now, I don’t want you lot lollygagging, so the prefects would show you your rooms— two students of the same gender to each room, so choose your roommates. Since there are six each, you won’t have a problem. Though you’ll have a long day today, so choose fast and get on with it.”

Malfoy immediately turned around to face Harry. “Potter and I will take a room together. Won’t we, Harry?”

“Actually, I already promised Blaise that I’d room with him during the feast and I'd have to keep my word, I’m afraid.” He quickly glanced at Blaise, who grinned at him. “Had you asked me earlier, I would’ve roomed with you instead. Sorry, mate, but I must keep my word. You understand, don’t you?”

“Oh.” Malfoy’s face turned blank as he looked between Harry and Blaise. “I suppose I will just have to be quicker next time. Nott?”

The dark-haired boy who had been quietly standing at the back of the group seemed surprised and nodded quickly.

“Crabbe and Goyle can be together,” Malfoy added dismissively, without even asking the two boys in question. 

“Good.” Dora glanced at the girls and saw that they had already paired up, even if the pug-faced girl, Pansy, didn’t seem all that thrilled. “Prefects, lead them. We’ll do the rest of it tomorrow before breakfast. I expect you all down here by seven sharp. Off you trot.”

They all were led by the fifth-year prefects up a set of steps, into a thin corridor with doors on each side. 

“Your trunks will come up as soon as you choose your beds,” The prefect grunted. “Boys on the right, girls on the left. No going into each other’s rooms.”

With that, the two left and they chose their rooms, with Harry and Blaise selecting the one at the end of the corridor, across from Tracey and Daphne.

“Hey,” Harry called as he closed the door to their room, which seemed like a plain bedroom with a pair of beds, wardrobes, and desks. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot out there. I just didn’t want to room with Malfoy. I owe you one.”

Blaise waved him off. “Don’t mention it. I would’ve chosen you anyway, but I get to choose my bed.”

“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” Harry said, and Blaise frowned at the room, putting a finger to his lips before going to the bed on the left and sitting down on it. With a pop, their trunks appeared in the room, next to their beds. “Anything else you’d like?”

“It’s alright. In fact, you can have my wardrobe. I’ve got this.” Blaise bent down and lifted his trunk, setting it against a wall. “Now, hold your breath, because you’re about to witness something incredible.”

He drew his wand and tapped the trunk, which shook for a moment before expanding in size to dwarf the wardrobe next to it and shot open. Harry’s mouth fell open at the neatly lined clothes and accessories on display, making up a wardrobe bigger than his grandfather’s.

“Is all of this… yours?” Harry looked up and down the wardrobe, counting the sheer number of clothes and shoes he had, along with the sections of ties, watches, rings, hats, and even umbrellas. “Whoa. I haven’t seen these many things in a shop.”

“Mother feels that I should have everything I need. She says a wizard should always dress his best. Of course, I didn’t bring everything because we’re going to wear our school robes for most of the day.” 

Harry nodded dumbly. “I see. My grandfather says something similar along those lines, but even he doesn’t have these many… choices.”

“Hey, if you want the number of our tailor, I’d be happy to give it to you. And let me tell you, you’ll never find robes and shoes the likes that Italian craftsmen can create.” Blaise grinned, removing a set of night-robes and closing the newly formed cupboard. “He can do a similar thing for you, too, if you want.”

“Thanks.” Harry gave him a smile. “I’ll let you know if I need something like that.”

“Great.” Blaise yawned, trotting through the door to the side, which led to the bathroom. “Now, I’ll change in a quick second and be off to bed. You can change out here if you want or wait till I get out.”

Harry inclined his head, opening his trunk. “I’ll wait. I've got something to do before I go to bed anyway.”

“Alright-y. Be right out.” The door closed, and Harry quietly removed a diary and a quill, placing them by his pillow before drawing the curtains shut and opening it.

‘Time to write down all I know about my new friends today as Grandpa does in his own diary.’ He pressed his quill to the page and began writing their names on a separate page. ‘Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise. That’s three for now. I’ll have to make one about the rest whenever I meet them and write their little details.’’

With that, he got to work.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

AND… DONE! Hope you all liked the chapter!

So, yes, Harry got sorted into Slytherin, as I felt was the most appropriate, which is a massive ripple to canon. As for Hermione and Ron, they’ll play a role in the future. A far smaller role, yet not an insignificant one. We’ll also be introduced to a few new characters, including Blaise’s sister.

Nymphadora is a sixth-year Prefect in Slytherin. Angela Zabini is in her third year and will be introduced later. At the end, Harry is just noting things down about his friends, which is something Arcturus taught him to do. It aids in maintaining and strengthening relationships. (See the scene in Ch.11: Wings of Time)

My apologies for the delay. I intended to publish the chapter on Sunday, but was dissatisfied with it, which caused this delay. In fact, I added the whole third scene today because of it, as I wanted it to cover more and also be longer. It is now a healthy 5.5k+ words.

I mostly struggled with Blaise’s character but got it down at the end anyway [kudos if you can guess who his character is based on].

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Stay Happy! Stay Safe! Keep Smiling! Keep Reading!

HPfanfictioner66