Daddy Dearest

Chapter 4 - The Sorting

The door opened to reveal a very stern-looking, black-haired witch, who Harry immediately recognized as Professor Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher. She and his stepfather didn't get along very well, as she was the head of Gryffindor and he was head of Slytherin, and so she was grumbled about fairly frequently, considering that he didn't grumble much at all. She was exactly the person not to cross if you were wise... and the perfect victim for a prank if you were a Marauder.

Professor McGonagall led the first years through the castle and into a small room off the hall, gave them a little speech, and left them there. As soon as she was gone, the blond boy that Harry had met in Madam Malkin's made a show of looking around the group of eleven-year-old witches and wizards.

"So... word on the train was that Harry Potter should be in our year, and some people said they thought they'd seen him. None of you look like Potters to me."

Harry froze. If someone found out... "Maybe he went somewhere else," he suggested quickly.

The boy sneered at Harry. "Why would he? This school has the reputation of being the best."

"I don't know but he's obviously not here... unless he's hiding somewhere. We'll know at the Sorting, won't we?"

The boy glared, but nodded reluctantly. "I suppose we shall."

Professor McGonagall returned shortly after that and took them into the hall. Harry was nervous, even though he knew what to expect. He stared at the tattered Sorting Hat along with the rest of the hall, and it began to sing.

"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.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought 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 don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Professor McGonagall stepped forward. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A blond girl in pigtails with a pink face practically fell out of line and put on the Hat. There was a moment's pause as she sat on the stool, and then the Hat declared her a Hufflepuff.

"Bones, Susan!"

She was put in Hufflepuff as well.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor. "Bulstrode, Millicent" became a Slytherin. "Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" was Hufflepuff, "Finnigan, Seamus," was a Gryffindor, and so was "Granger, Hermione!" Neville Longbottom also joined the Gryffindor table. "MacDougal, Morag" went next, and became a Slytherin.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

The blond boy from Madam Malkin's swaggered up to the front, and the Hat had barely touched his head before he was declared a Slytherin.

There were only a few first years left, now. Moon... Nott... Parkinson... a pair of twin girls by the name of "Patil"... Perks, Sally-Anne... and, finally...

"Snape, Harry!"

"Hmm..." said the Sorting Hat in his ear. "You're a difficult one, aren't you? You have courage, oh, yes, lots of courage, and a good mind... not at all interested in what others think, except for keeping your true identity a secret... Harry Potter."

Harry flinched.

"Ah, yes, don't worry. No one will find out from me, I keep a lot of secrets. The question is not who you are, but what you are. Now... where shall I put you? There is greatness in you, Mr. Potter... Slytherin could help to make you great, but you have very little ambition. You're perfectly content being the Potions Master's son with your collection of Chocolate Frog Cards, aren't you? Besides, you'll have power no matter what. The only difference is the side you'll be on. There are two possible paths for you, Harry Potter, and your House is not the deciding factor... only a factor. It's all here in your head, if you know how to look, and I've been looking for a long time. The last one like you... he chose the Dark path. What do you choose, Mr. Potter?"

I... I chose the Light.

"Well, then, the House that will take you to power there is GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard his house shouted to the entire hall, and he joined the barely cheering and clearly shocked Gryffindor table. None of them had expected Snape's son to be in their House, but the Potions Professor didn't seem to mind at all that the boy was a Gryffindor, as he was clapping for the boy and smiling a little fondly, despite the fact that he always favored Slytherin.

There were only four people left to be Sorted. Dean Thomas went to Gryffindor, Lisa Turpin went to Ravenclaw, and then Ron Weasley was called.

It only took a second for the Hat to declare him a Gryffindor.

"Zabini, Blaise" went to Slytherin, and Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the Sorting Hat from the hall.

Albus Dumbledore stood up. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you."

The ate their feast, received announcements that weren't in the least bit new to Harry, sang the school song, and followed a Prefect up to bed. The next day they would start their classes, though Harry didn't have Potions until the end of the week.