Behind The Mirror

Chapter 3

Harry, Ron and Hermione cluttered into the entrance hall, thoroughly frozen by the chilling winds outside. They began to make their way to the Great Hall, teeth chattering as though they’d eaten a barrelful of ice mice. As usual there were hundreds of candles silently floating above the long house tables, illuminating the hall and causing flitting shadows on the students faces. The golden plates and goblets clamoured for space on the oak tables.

The hall began to fill quickly, the students taking up their places at their house tables. Harry looked down the Gryffindor table, he could see the Weasley twins whispering to Lee Jordan, no doubt thinking up an outrageous plan for the new school year already, and a little further down were the Creevey brothers, for once not looking at him. Harry settled back and listened to Ron and Hermione arguing as usual.

"What do you mean you haven’t done it!!"

"Hermione, it’s supposed to be a relaxing time, that’s why they call it a holiday!"

"Ron, our O.W.L’s are coming up, this is no time to be skipping out on homework!"

"O.W.L’s aren’t until May!! And anyway, it was only for Care of Magical Creatures! You know Hagrid would let us pass that, even if we didn’t go to his lessons all year!"

"It’s the principal of it Ron. If you can’t be bothered to do that, it shows that you’re not serious about schoolwork!"

"Oh, put a sock in it Hermione!"

Luckily, a queue of new first years were marched in by Professor McGonagall then, drowning out Hermione’s response to Ron. She looked very angry though, and Harry could guess what she had said.

The first years looked as cold as they had been earlier and most were shivering uncontrollably. Silently they walked to the top table where Professor Dumbledore was beaming at them. The whole hall fell quiet. McGonagall cleared her throat and was just about to speak when the sorting hat beat her to it.

"Come sit me upon your head,

I will decide your fate,

Where you, young student, should belong,

Upon this very date.

Perhaps, in Hufflepuff, who of work do never tire,

Or maybe with the Ravenclaws; top marks are their desire.

Sly Slytherins are found to be, great keepers of ambition,

While Gryffindors are fearless, braveness is their fruition.

So, put me on, don’t hesitate,

I have not yet chose wrongly,

I was blessed with love, not hate,

To have this gift bestowed me."

At this the sorting bobbed it’s tip slightly, in a kind of bow, and then sat up straight. The first years were gaping at the magical hat, eyes wide with disbelief. Even for those in wizarding families it was a strange sight to see a hat singing, most of all in rhyme. They eventually came to their senses though, and pounded their hands together in appreciation like the rest of the hall.

McGonagall once again cleared her throat and this time was not interrupted.

"When I call your name please sit on the stool and place the sorting hat on your head. You will be sorted into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin."

She vaguely gestured to the silk banners that fluttered slightly above the tables.

"Right then… Atterbury, Marion."

"Ravenclaw!" boomed the hat after a minute’s decision.

"Azzopardi, Felicia."

"Slytherin!" shouted the hat, much quicker than when deciding on Marion.

"Boltwood, Bosley."

Harry and Ron sniggered at this name, making the people around them miss the name of the house Bosley was in. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron as Bosley Boltwood made his way over to the Slytherin table. Harry elbowed Ron and they promptly shut up.

The list seemed to go on and on and it was getting hard for Harry to ignore the pain in his belly and the growling noises that it was making. Eventually the list came to "Watson, Melissa" (Gryffindor) and McGonagall rolled up the piece of parchment that held the students names, picked up the sorting hat and its accompanying stool and made for the doors at the other end of the hall.

Dumbledore stood and gave his usual start-of-school speech.

"It is with pleasure that I welcome you back to another school year, and for some their first," winking at the first years, who were looking slightly better than they had done.

"I realise that you are all feeling like ravenous wolves right now so I will make this quick. I would like you to firstly welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Smith – Allen. A short, thin woman stood up. She looked even more nervous than the first years. She was wringing her hands and glancing around the hall with wide eyes.

"Perhaps she heard about the fate of the Defence Against the dark Arts Professors." Ron whispered to Harry.

"Yeah, looks like she wants to make a run for doesn’t she?" Harry whispered back.

At the small spattering of applause that sounded across the hall Professor Smith – Allen visibly shuddered. She looked as though ready to cave in on herself.

"Don’t really think she should be here if she can’t even stand up to that!" Ron said, not so quietly.

Hermione gave him a cross look.

"Mr Filch has also asked me to remind you that if any students are caught out of bed after lights out the punishment is a weeks detention dusting the tomes in the library, an event that I believe has not taken place for several years." Dumbledore’s eyes were sparkling with amusement.

"Well, there is no more for me to say. Let the feast begin."

Dumbledore clapped his hands and the golden plates filled with the most delicious food imaginable. The students were about to reach eagerly for the food when suddenly the doors at the end of the hall were flung open with an almighty crash. "DUMBLEDORE!" a voice roared above the din.