The Toad Conspiracy

Chapter 2: The Re-sorting

Luna had been right about the change in Hogwarts: it did feel terribly empty. The Great Hall, despite its many candles and tapestries, its sky covered ceiling, and the students who had returned, seemed unnecessarily large and cavernous. Too many of the older students had not come back, whether by choice or misfortune.

Rumour had it that a seventh year Ravenclaw, Mandy Brocklehurst, had disappeared with her whole family during a Death Eater raid on the town of Chorley.

The Slytherin table was particularly empty. This of course led to much gossip and outrageous speculation among the other house tables.

'My older brother saw Theodore Nott himself during that Death Eater incident in Ipswich at the beginning of August.'

'The only reason Bulstrode is back is because You-Know-Who wanted someone here to keep the other Slytherins in line.'

Adding to the emptiness of the Great Hall was the absence of the former Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. In his place at the centre of the High Table, looking characteristically stern and unruffled, was Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts new Headmistress.

Soon, a three-legged stool bearing a rather worn and battered wizard's hat was placed before the pitifully few first-years standing in front of the Head Table: an indication that the Sorting was about to start. The din of excited voices dropped off as the hat began to sing far more mournfully than Neville had ever heard it sing before:

'Old Dumbledore is gone for good.

A great wizard through and through,

And the finest Headmaster there ever was;

This is most certainly true.

But I shall miss most of all

The young boy I once knew,

For I sorted him long ago myself

When he was a child like you.

If I had a heart or soul,

It would be heavy indeed,

But as I am merely a Sorting Hat,

Not a tear on my brim you'll see.

Sorting have I done these years,

Since the founders all

First decided to divide

Any who entered their hall.

But never did they envision

What animosity would arise

From house loyalty and pride

To a war along bloodlines.

It seems, therefore, this Sorting

Is not a perfect tradition,

And is instead but a source

Of mistrust and perdition.

Thus have I resolved henceforth

To divide Hogwarts no more;

The unsorted belong to ALL the houses

Till we end this wizards war.

Until that time, I wish you all

The very best of luck,

Be you of Ravenclaw and Slytherin,

Or in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

And with that, the hat concluded its song. Among the handful of first-years who had just learned they would not be sorted, a dark-haired girl crossed her arms and scowled while little Anthony Lewis, the Hufflepuff hopeful, looked understandably crushed.

An excited buzzing rose up from the house tables.

'Does that mean there's not going to be a Sorting?' asked a bewildered Gryffindor second-year.

'But the hat's not allowed to do that,' stammered a disapproving Ravenclaw.

'What about the first-years? Where are they going to live?' protested a Hufflepuff sixth-year.

'What's going to happen to the houses?' wailed a young Slytherin, looking around at the many vacancies at her house's table.

At the High Table, the staff also reacted to the Sorting Hat's remarkable act of disobedience. Tiny Professor Flitwick was speaking excitedly with both Professors Sinistra and Vector, who were seated on either side of him. Batty and bespectacled Professor Trelawney gazed about her with a look of the all-knowing. Portly Professor Slughorn, looking as if something he had eaten earlier in the day suddenly disagreed with him, fidgeted in his chair. Immediately to his left, a gaunt leathery-faced wizard in bright orange robes, whom Neville had never seen before, steepled his fingers beneath his nose as though.in thought, while kindly Professor Sprout patted a disconsolate first-year on the shoulder before ushering the small group of unsorted students over to the Slytherin table.

Only Professor McGonagall seemed not in the least bit perturbed by the Sorting Hat's unexpected announcement as she rose to address them. 'Well, that's that. Do let's tuck in.'

And, as in all six of Neville's previous years at Hogwarts, food appeared up and down the tables. Chatter increased as the students eagerly filled their plates and continued to speculate about the fate of the unsorted first-years.

By the time pudding was served, conversation at the Gryffindor table had turned into a discussion of just who would be replacing McGonagall as their new Head of House.

'Well, I mean, she can't be Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, can she?' said Colin Creevey, looking expectantly around for someone to agree with him.

'How about Hagrid?' asked his brother Dennis, who, despite being in the fourth year, was barely bigger than any of the first-years.

'It could be Hagrid, I suppose,' said Demelza Robins, 'but he's not even here right now.'

'Wouldn't it be wonderful if it were Professor Trelawney?' Lavender interjected. 'I think she said she was in Gryffindor house when she was a student.'

'Really?' Neville asked, unable to hide his incredulity at this piece of information.

'Well, I think it would be brilliant,' Lavender said, clearly miffed at Neville's lack of enthusiasm for her favourite teacher. 'She's so much nicer than McGonagall anyway.'

Ginny nearly choked on a mouthful of Trifle, earning a glare from Lavender.

Though he didn't say anything, Neville vehemently disagreed with Lavender. He would take McGonagall's disapproving looks and stern lectures over Trelawney's dire predictions of death any day.

'How about that professor in the orange robes?' suggested Demelza. 'Do you think he's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?'

'Maybe he's taking over Transfiguration from McGonagall,' said Ginny.

'Hang on,' Neville said, thinking aloud. 'With Snape gone and McGonagall not teaching, we need two new professors.'

'Maybe the other professor's just late. You know, like Moody was,' Ginny suggested.

'Ooh, I didn't like him,' Lavender said, poking a rather dry and unappetising piece of chocolate cake around on her plate. 'He was really creepy.'

Neville hadn't liked him much either, particularly after learning he wasn't in fact the real Mad-Eye Moody, but was instead a Death Eater who had been involved in his parents' torture. He felt his appetite for pudding disappear and slid his plate aside. He no longer wanted to take part in the conversation around him and instead gazed around the Great Hall, keeping his mind blank.

His eyes fell upon Luna, sitting at the opposite end of the Ravenclaw table. She appeared to have charmed a plate of digestive biscuits into playing a game of draughts, much to the annoyance of two of her housemates sitting near her. One of them gave Luna a particularly exasperated look before snatching a chocolate digestive as it was captured. Though Luna was concentrating on the biscuits before her, Neville had a funny feeling that she knew he was watching. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when she gave him a slight wave and a dreamy smile during the magnificent capture of yet another chocolate digestive.

Neville grinned and waved back, accidentally knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice.

'Watch it!' Lavender cried pulling the sleeve of her robes out of the way of the quickly spreading spill just in time. 'Evanesco!'

'Sorry,' he mumbled, embarrassed by his infernal clumsiness.

The opportunity to dwell on his embarrassment soon vanished, however. At the staff table, McGonagall had got to her feet, causing the buzz of excited chatter to die away instantly.

'Well then, now that we have all had our fill, I would like to officially welcome you to another productive year of magical training at Hogwarts. Of course, as the Sorting has already demonstrated, things will be a little different this year, but more on that in a moment.'

'First and foremost, a reminder that the Forest is off limits to all students, at all times.' She paused a moment, then said very clearly, 'As is the village of Hogsmeade.'

This startling announcement took a moment to sink in.

'What do you mean?' cried an anxious third-year Hufflepuff.

Other frustrated voices joined his, clamouring to discover if even the older students were forbidden from visiting the nearby magical village.

'If you will kindly settle down, please,' McGonagall said, quieting the excited din with a single stern look. 'While we understand that it has been a Hogwarts tradition to allow students in the third year and above to visit Hogsmeade, conditions in the wizarding community have led to changes here at Hogwarts, changes which cannot be avoided.

'Additional security measures have been implemented to ensure the safety of all who remain on the castle grounds. However, this protection does not extend to the village of Hogsmeade; therefore, we cannot, in good conscience, allow any more trips outside the castle grounds. Your safety is of paramount importance to us all and we ask that you please respect the decision of the staff, governors and your parents to ensure your well-being above everything else.'

Neville recognised the sensibility of the decision to cancel the visits to Hogsmeade for the time being, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the third-year students who would be forced to wait at least another year to make their first trip.

McGonagall continued, 'I have also been asked by Mr. Filch to remind you that duelling in the hallways between classes is strictly prohibited. Now more than ever, it is imperative that you follow this restriction, particularly in light of certain anti-hexing security measures that have recently been put in place. Information concerning these additional safety precautions will be available from your Heads of House.

'And speaking of Heads of House, it is my pleasure to announce that Professor Slughorn has generously agreed to resume the leadership of Slytherin.'

A smattering of applause met this announcement; Slughorn graciously waved his maroon handkerchief in acknowledgement. Neville clapped briefly as well though he really did not know the portly Potions professor well.

'Anyone's better than Snape,' Ginny declared, applauding the announcement rather more loudly than the other Gryffindors around her.

'It also gives me great pleasure to welcome an addition to our staff. Professor Pyre, who will be teaching Transfiguration, has also agreed to take on the position of Head of Gryffindor house.'

The gaunt professor in the flaming orange robes stood, inclining his head slightly toward McGonagall and then toward the Gryffindor table, where his new charges were vigorously clapping and whispering amongst themselves.

'Who is he? Where's he from?' asked Colin.

'Never heard of him,' said Ginny.

'I hope he's as good as McGonagall,' said Dennis.

'I hope he likes Quidditch,' added Demelza.

"Humph," snorted Lavender, clearly disgruntled that her favourite professor would not be Head of Gryffindor after all.

Neville said nothing, thinking only that it was a shame he would never really get to know his new Head of House since he would not be taking Transfiguration again this year.

McGonagall cleared her throat and waited a moment for the excited Gryffindors to settle down.

'Now, as to the matter of our newest students. In the spirit of the Sorting Hat's decision, we have agreed,' she nodded toward the other teachers at the head table, 'that all first-years will spend a quarter of the year with each of the four houses. For the first quarter of the year, they will eat and reside with Slytherin, the second quarter they will spend with Ravenclaw, the third with Hufflepuff, and the final quarter with Gryffindor.'

Of all announcements thus far, this was met with the greatest commotion, particularly among the Gryffindor students who felt slighted for being placed last.

'Why is Slytherin first?' demanded a sixth-year.

'By the time we get them, they won't be worth having,' proclaimed a fourth-year.

'It's going to ruin the whole House system,' cried Lavender.

Neville felt his own neck grow warm in annoyance. Though he was as disappointed as the rest that Gryffindor would be last to host the first years, he was certain his housemates had missed the point. Couldn't they see that this might just be the best way to put a stop to the divisiveness being exploited by You-Know-Who?

'What about Quidditch tryouts?' cried a second-year, who was clearly concerned that the quality of the house team might be jeopardized by this unusual arrangement.

'First-years can't try out for Quidditch anyway,' Demelza reminded him.

'Harry Potter made the house team his first year,' replied the boy.

'Do you really think there's another Harry Potter in that lot?' Ginny retorted. 'Besides, what makes you think we'll be playing Quidditch this year?'

McGonagall allowed the outburst to wear itself down before continuing, 'I am certain you have all noticed that many of your classmates were unable to join us this year.'

She paused for a moment, her eyes sweeping up and down the many empty places at the house tables before resting briefly on a trio of empty spots near Neville.

'Too many empty beds and desks can be disheartening, not to mention being an inefficient use of resources during these uncertain times.'

Sparing a brief glance around him, Neville suddenly realised the truth of what McGonagall was saying. As the only seventh-year Gryffindor boy to return, he would be completely alone in his dormitory room - a prospect he found quite depressing. He looked across the table at Lavender, who would also be facing her final year at Hogwarts without a roommate. She turned away, as though to prevent anyone from noticing that her eyes had gone watery.

'In the interest of safety and morale, we have therefore decided that a little re-sorting of resources is necessary. Beginning tonight, students in Slytherin will be sharing accommodations with Hufflepuff, and students in Ravenclaw will be placed in the Gryffindor dormitories.'

The response that greeted this announcement was one of near pandemonium, particularly among the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students.

'They can't do that!'

'Why do we have to move?'

'What will happen to the houses?'

Neville glanced over at Luna to see how she was taking the news and was shocked to see her looking directly at him, her expression one of complete serenity.

'But what about Quidditch?' The plaintive wail of a second-year Slytherin cut through the rest of the clamour.

Though looking quite put out by the ruckus, the corners of McGonagall's mouth twitched. 'Do please get a hold of yourselves. The houses will remain intact, as will the Quidditch teams. That at least has not changed! Students interested in playing for their house teams should give their names to their Heads of House.'

This piece of good news seemed to mollify everyone for the moment.

'Now then, tomorrow is a day of new beginnings and new lessons, for which we would like to see you all bright and alert. To bed with all of you, and good night.'

The usual scraping and banging ensued as the students pushed back their benches and began to file out. As he approached the door, Neville noticed that the Ravenclaw students seemed to be hanging back. He looked around for a tell-tale gold and crimson prefect's badge, but realised that there were none.

'Ginny,' he said, pulling her attention away from a particularly intense discussion she was having with Demelza about Quidditch, 'they aren't coming.'

Ginny, looked in the direction of the dispirited students and nodded. "Right. Come on, Demelza."

As the two marshalled the reticent Ravenclaws, Neville found himself shepherding a group of intimidated second- and third-year Gryffindors past a knot of mutinous Slytherins, who had formed a bottleneck in the hallway, and up the several staircases to the Gryffindor tower. Nearing the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to the common room, he was greeted by a cluster of disgruntled housemates.

'Hurry up, Neville and tell us the password,' one of them grumped.

'But - but - I don't know the password,' Neville stammered. 'I'm not a prefect.'

'Oh,' Romilda Vane snipped rather unpleasantly, 'then how are we supposed to get inside?'

Their dilemma was quickly solved by the appearance of the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. He was accompanied the Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady, whose expression was unreadable.

'Welcome back. Welcome back,' Nick said with flourish, 'Professors Pyre and Flitwick told us to inform you that the new password is nirvana.'

By now, the Ravenclaws had arrived and soon followed the Gryffindors through the portrait hole into the common room.

'Bit dingy, isn't it?' a fifth-year Ravenclaw sniffed.

Too tired to join in the many cross conversations erupting around him, Neville waved briefly to Ginny and Luna and headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. He was joined soon after by two Ravenclaws, Terry Boot and Michael Corner, who took a baleful look around the tower and then promptly charmed the scarlet hangings adorning their beds to a deep blue.

'Sorry mate,' said Terry, not sounding terribly contrite, 'but too much red gives me a headache, if you know what I mean.'

'Sure,' Neville mumbled before rolling over. As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped that the decision to uproot the Ravenclaws and Slytherins would not create even more problems than it solved.