The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Eight: A Surprise At The Sorting

"It's been more than a thousand years

Since I was plush and new

And now my life revolves around

Sorting all of you

For even in great times of need

Your learning must onward go

So now I place you in your house

And watch you as you grow

Rest assured that there were times

When our lives have all been threatened

And yet I carry on my work

My judgement rarely questioned

With the Dark Forces at large once more

I come to sort you once again

Into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor

Ravenclaw or Slytherin

And yet the lesson which I must impart

Is that houses scarcely matter

In times of strife, in times of war

And we are certainly in the latter

A Dark wizard has arisen

And challenges all that we hold dear

And though my gift to you is a loving home

I really must make clear

Brave Gryffindor, loyal Hufflepuff

Canny Slyth'rin, bright Ravenclaw

Your house does not define you

Not now, nor evermore

You'll hear bad things about denizens

Of all our fine school houses

I tell you now, those who repeat the tales

Are naught but big girls' blouses

All of the houses will take you in

And build you smart and strong

And when you're gone, I'll still be here

Greeting newcomers with a song

So rest assured that I know what

Of which in rhyme I do now speak

It matters not that the Slytherins

Have the reputation of a sneak

Or that Hufflepuffs, so kind and loyal

Are said never to be bold

Or that Ravenclaws, their heads full of brains

Seem oft snobbish and cold

Or that our brave young Gryffindors

Will sometimes talk some complete rot

I tell you now that your chosen house

In the grand scheme matters not

The only thing that makes a difference

Is what you keep inside your heart

So I ask you to always bear in mind

When it comes time to play your part

Care not where other people went

Just try and do your best

For only by standing together

Can we hope to pass the test."

There was muted applause for the Sorting Hat's song. Harry and Ron exchanged glances as they watched Professor McGonagall call the first new pupil forward.

"That was weird," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Makes sense, though. The one thing everyone listens to is the Sorting Hat."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat bellowed, sending that house's table into wild applause as the first pupil ("Acrit, Penny!") was Sorted.

"I guess so," Ron said. "Do you reckon it'll make any difference?"

"Have a look," Harry replied, nodding at the long line of first years. He remembered his own Sorting, how he'd stood nervously, not talking to anyone, barely even listening as the others around him were Sorted. This time, however, the first years were talking, somewhat nervously, but they looked a lot more relaxed then Harry could ever remember new students looking before.

"Maybe Hagrid put a Cheering Charm on them?" Ron suggested as "Baines, Samantha" was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Well, whatever, but you know that the Hat is right," Harry said.

"Harry, as one wizard raised by Muggles raised to another, did you ever say 'you know the Hat is right' before you came here?" Dean asked from the other side of Ron. Ginny snorted into her goblet of pumpkin juice, and Hermione had to slap her on the back.

"You know what else is weird?" Ron asked. Harry nodded.

"Seeing Lee up at the staff table," he replied. The two looked up at their friend, who was sitting between Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch. True to form, he was chatting quite easily with the two staff members. He seemed quite at home even though, a few months earlier, he had been sat alongside Harry, Ron and the others at the Gryffindor house table.

Meanwhile, the Sorting had raised a point of interest. A tall boy, far too big to be a first year, was standing just inside the doors to the Great Hall. Even Draco Malfoy, who was standing beside him, looked short compared to the unknown boy.

"Hello Sir Nicholas," Lavender said as Nearly Headless Nick drifted through the ceiling and took a place between Harry and Seamus.

"Hello, hello," Nick replied cheerfully. He waved to the other Gryffindors, doffing his head to a few of them.

"Nick, d'you know who that big lad is?" Seamus asked, pointing to the tall boy.

"I believe he's an American, his parents moved here this summer and he's transferring from the Salem Academy." Nick replied. "I imagine he's going to be sorted, the same as any other new pupil. Who is that beside him, though?"

"That's Draco Malfoy," Ron said, his eyes narrowed. "He asked to swap houses. Reckons he doesn't want to be in Slytherin anymore."

"Oh dear, really?" asked Nick. "And after the Hat prepared that lovely song about houses not mattering all that much as well."

"Nick!" Ron objected. "You're mad about Gryffindor."

"Well, one does become rather attached to things when one has been around for five hundred years, Mr. Weasley," Nick said. "However, house rivalries matter little to us ghosts. We are all on good terms with the exception, I'm afraid to say, of Peeves."

"Is he still causing trouble?" Harry asked as "Charles, Damian," was Sorted into Slytherin.

"I'm afraid so, ah, here we are," Nick replied. Harry looked up and saw the tall American striding confidently toward the stool on which the Sorting Hat sat. Professor McGonagall lifted the hat, and the boy sat on the stool, but it was so low, and his legs so long, that his knees were almost around his ears. After a moment of thought, he tucked his legs beneath him, so that he was really kneeling over the stool rather than sitting on it.

"Josh Cochran, and he's a fifth year," Hermione said. "We don't have many Americans here, do we?"

"One in Gryffindor, one in Ravenclaw, two in Hufflepuff," Ginny said promptly. "I had detention from Professor Binns last year," she added at Ron's curious look.

"You got detention from Binns? How did you manage that?"

"I fell asleep in class," Ginny replied, colouring a little.

"I've done that loads of times," Ron said.

"And still been in there when he came in for his next class?" Ginny replied. "I missed a double period of Charms. Binns made me learn all of the nationalities that are at Hogwarts, because we were studying the foundation of the International Confederacy of Wizards."

Ron and Dean both laughed, but Harry was watching the American, Josh, being Sorted. He'd been under the Hat for over a minute, and Harry remembered that his own Sorting had taken much longer than anyone else's as well.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Josh unfolded upwards. Judging by how tall he was against Professor McGonagall, Harry realised that he was really only a little over six foot tall, and that standing among the first years had made him seem taller. The applause he received matched his stature, however, as he was the first of the new pupils to be sorted into Gryffindor. He took his seat at the end of the table, shaking hands with a few of his new housemates.

As the next candidate was called forward ("Coldicott, Emma"), Harry caught sight of a flash of pale blond hair, and realised that he had forgotten about Malfoy in among all the other events so far. Shrugging, he looked up at Nearly Headless Nick.

"What's Peeves been up to, Nick?" he asked.

"Oh, the same as usual. Most tiresome, really," Nick sighed. "The Headmaster gave a dinner for Deputy Minister Weasley during the holidays, and Peeves decided to liven things up."

"Oh dear," Hermione said. Harry and Ginny shared a grin as they remembered Mr. Weasley returning from the meal with his dress robes soaked through with gravy, custard and pumpkin juice. Despite this, however, he had been in high spirits, although the secret nature of much that he had discussed with Dumbledore meant that he hadn't discussed it with anyone. It was an open secret in the Weasley household that Mr. Weasley and Percy were working to supply information to Dumbledore and the network of witches and wizards who were working to oppose Voldemort's new reign of terror. If Mr. Weasley was in good spirits, George had said, it probably meant that things were going well for their side.

"Malfoy, Draco," Professor McGonagall announced, breaking through Harry's reverie. He looked up sharply. There was a collective intake of breath as Malfoy walked forward, his jaw clenched tightly and his gaze fixed on the floor directly in front of him. Harry glanced at the Slytherin table and knew at once that Malfoy hadn't told any of them about his defection from their house. Pansy Parkinson in particular looked amazed, while Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's former best friends, sat slack jawed in their seats, their gazes following Malfoy stupidly as he made his way between the house tables and up to the front of the Hall.

Malfoy sat on the stool. Although he was shorter than Josh Cochran, he was still too tall to look comfortable on the stool. He didn't make any attempt to make himself more comfortable, however, instead choosing to look faintly ridiculous as the Sorting Hat was lowered on to his head.

The whole school, staff and pupils alike, watched attentively as the Hat sat silently on Malfoy's head. Harry wondered how long it had been since someone had asked for a transfer from one of the school houses, at least after the first few weeks of their first year had passed.

The whole of the Great Hall was silent, still, holding its breath. The Sorting Hat was no more animated. It was as though it was frozen in place on Malfoy's head. Malfoy himself was staring blankly ahead, his gaze unchanging and unblinking.

Finally, the Hat moved. The upper half tilted slightly back, the folds in its material making it appear that the Hat was opening a mouth. And then:

"RAVENCLAW!"

There was a scattering of applause from the Ravenclaw table, mostly, Harry realised, among the younger pupils who didn't know much of Malfoy beyond his being the Slytherin Seeker. If Malfoy expected a warmer welcome in his new house, he didn't show it. He took his place quietly among his new housemates, and turned to watch the rest of the first years, beginning with "Midgen, Nicholas," being Sorted.

The rest of the ceremony went by smoothly. Ron keeping a running commentary on the new Gryffindors, assessing each one for potential Quidditch ability. Harry tried to tune his friend out, but occasionally caught phrases like "Light build, good Seeker maybe. . . " and "Strong looking kid, might be a Beater there. . ."

At last "Young, Simon" was sorted into Hufflepuff and Professor McGonagall walked away with the Sorting Hat and stool. Professor Dumbledore stood, and looked over the tops of his glasses at the crowded Hall before him.

"School announcements," he began "can wait until after dinner. Let's eat!"

There was a wave of appreciative laughter as the food appeared magically on the great platters that lay along the centre of the house tables. Harry glanced at Hermione, wondering if his friend would be subjecting them to a revitalised S.P.E.W. campaign over the coming year. She had been rather quiet on the subject the year before, but with her O.W.Ls out of the way, he thought that she might find time to restart her campaign for equal House Elf rights.

But Hermione was silently working on her dinner. She smiled at one of Seamus' jokes, but seemed to be in no hurry to subject the others to a rant on the subjugation of 'lesser' races. Harry made a mental note to ask her about it when they had a free moment, and then promptly forgot about it as the remains of the main courses disappeared from view and were replaced with sumptuous desserts of all description. Trifles, cakes, rice pudding, blancmange, doughnuts, sweets and huge mounds of ice cream appeared in front of Harry and his friends, and soon everyone was tackling huge mounds of their favourite treats.

Eventually, though, even Crabbe and Goyle finished their fifth helpings of trifle and the desserts faded from view. Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet once more and clapped his hands.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome," he said. "It is wonderful once again to see so many bright and happy faces, ready for the start of another school year. I do so treasure this moment, as I know that by tomorrow you shall all be complaining about how much homework that you have been assigned by the sadists who have somehow managed to become Ministry recognised teachers.

"Nonetheless, and in spite of the work that we shall torture you with over the coming year, I do hope that you shall enjoy yourselves at Hogwarts. For some of you, it is your first time here, for some of you, your last. Wherever you come in the order of students, I pray that your time with us will be worthwhile, and that you shall appreciate that which we offer you.

"To that end, a few minor details. As always, we have a new Defence Against he Dark Arts teacher, the previous occupant of the post still feeling quite exhausted from his year in the role." Dumbledore smiled, and a few of his former pupils laughed.

"Your teacher this year is Professor Skeeter, a former member of Ravenclaw house and a graduate of the Parisian Club d'escrime de la Tour d'Auvergne. She will be focussing on training you in the use of weapons, as well as the usual curriculum for this subject."

There was a round of applause for the new teacher, who waved cheerily to the pupils.

"Weapons training? Just when I think this place can't get any weirder!" Ron said. Harry nodded in agreement.

"As always," Dumbledore continued, "the Forbidden Forest is, well, forbidden. The name should rather give that away, but you would be amazed how often people fail to fully consider this."

He paused, and cast an eye over the Gryffindor table.

"Of course, many of you will know, either personally or by reputation, the Weasley twins, Masters Fred and George. As they have now departed these hallowed halls, I imagine that our caretaker, Mr. Filch, will be on the lookout for those who feel the need to fill their illustrious shoes. Let those who wish to emulate the masters be warned."

"Fred and George will love hearing that they got mentioned this year," Ginny whispered to Harry. He nodded his head, smiling at the thought of the grins on the faces of the twins when they heard about their now legendary status at Hogwarts.

"Flying lessons will begin in the first week of October. These are compulsory for all first years, and anyone else who wishes to attend should see Madam Hooch. On a similar note, I have been asked to inform you that tryouts for the Gryffindor house team shall take place next Saturday morning, and that Ravenclaw will be assessing their own candidates on Saturday afternoon. Details to be posted on the respective house notice boards. I should imagine that Hufflepuff and Slytherin will be looking for fresh blood as well, but they have not as yet made their tryout dates known to me.

"New Prefects have been appointed as always, and I ask our sixth and seventh year Prefects to make them aware of their duties as soon as possible. As always, I especially expect a fine example to be set by our new Head Boy and Head Girl.

"Now, it is late and for all of us it has been a long day, so I bid you all a-"

Dumbledore was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall, closed by Mr. Filch during the meal, opening suddenly and a tall, blonde-haired man in deep navy robes striding confidently into the Hall.

"Sorry I'm late," the man said in a loud voice. "What did I miss?"

The Great Hall fell silent again, many of the pupils unable to believe their eyes. It was only when Ron hissed in his ear that Harry knew that the man was really who he appeared to be.

"Harry," Ron spat, "it's Lockhart!"

To be continued...