This is Chapter 3 :)))) I had to make up some stuff I think (idk it was a long time ago) because I could find all the info btw
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The Sorting Ceremony
A voice, most likely the train conductor, rang through the whole train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Draco and his friends grinned as they made their way to the corridor. The train came to a stop and they went to a small dark platform.
A light was held high above all the students’ heads. Draco could make out the servant, Hagrid.
“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry?” the large oaf, Hagrid, asked the famous Harry Potter.
Potter was already getting favoritism somehow and the school year hadn’t even started yet.
"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Stumbling, they followed the servant down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was dark on either side of them. Nobody spoke much.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
The crowd of students made a loud “Ooooh!” noise as they gazed upon Hogwarts. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
Draco snorted, he heard it was better than Durmstrang’s castle but he would much prefer to go there. They only allowed Purebloods, the superior blood status.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott sat down in the tiny boats.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. "Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
Draco heard the servant say something about a toad and some dorky boy say “Trevor!” but Draco didn’t pay much attention since he was too busy talking to his friends.
Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
The servant raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was larger than Draco had ever seen, even larger than his at Malfoy Manor. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Draco could hear the drone of hundreds of voices, including his own, from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. But Draco and his friends were still grinning.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”
Draco was more than ever ready to become a Slytherin, where only Purebloods could be, no Mudbloods allowed. If he was sorted into any other house, he would disgrace the Malfoy name, and his family would most likely disown him.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Draco managed to stifle down a chortle with Crabbe and Goyle as he saw Professor McGonagall stare at Weasley.
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."
She left the chamber.
Draco and his friends were speaking in excitement.
“I expect this school year will be easy. The hardest part will probably be having to stand the Mudbloods,” Nott snorted.
There were loud gasps.
About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?”
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.
Nobody spoke.
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"
A few people nodded mutely.
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Fat Friar. "My old house, you know."
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."
And they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.
Draco and his friends watched Professor McGonagall set down a four-legged stool. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat 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!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause-
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. The ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.
"Bones, Susan!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.
"Boot, Terry!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sometimes, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.
"Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.
"Granger, Hermione!"
Hermione Granger ran up to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head, staring up at it hopefully.
“She’s a Mudblood,” Nott whispered to them.
Draco made a sour face. “She won’t last a day here,” he sneered.
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.
Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool and they snorted with laughter. The hat took a long time to decide with Longbottom. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Longbottom ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."
After that, Professor McGonagall announced, “Malfoy, Draco!”
It was finally his turn. Draco swaggered forward when his name got called. He sat on the stool with a straight posture. The hat had barely touched his hair when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"
Draco felt a wide smile appear on his face as the Slytherin table clapped for him.
He joined Crabbe and Goyle who had been previously called.
There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last - "Potter, Harry!"
Draco and his friends groaned. He couldn’t remember what his father said Potter’s blood status was. He hoped it was Half-blood, he couldn’t bear to be in the same house and even possibly dormitory with Potter.
As Potter stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
“The Harry Potter?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Potter wasn’t as impressive as he thought since he realized Potter was friends with the large oaf and a Weasley Blood Traitor.
“Hmm," said the Sorting Hat. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"
Draco rolled his eyes once more. It wasn’t that hard, Gryffindor would be the perfect house, rivals and enemies of Slytherin and friends with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the Hat.
Draco stood up.
“We don’t want Potter either,” Draco muttered to his fellow Slytherins. “But there’s no need to be ashamed of us.” Draco gritted his teeth.
"Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no?” the hat said.
“We won’t help him to greatness,” Goyle growled, glancing at his thumb.
Draco crossed his fingers, hoping Potter wouldn’t be a Slytherin.
“Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Him and his friends were so happy he wasn’t Slytherin, they actually had a cheer of delight.
Draco didn’t care that the Blood Traitors and Mudbloods were looking at the four of them confused.
What he did care about, though, was the Weasley twins obnoxiously yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
It was nothing to be proud of, Draco thought.
And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy who was very tall, joined Potter at the Gryffindor table.
"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Weasley’s turn.
The Slytherin table laughed when the Blood Traitor turned pale green. A second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
"Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.
“I hope you don’t mind?” Blaise Zabini asked, hesitating to sit next to Draco.
“Not at all. Pureblood, are you?” Draco asked.
Blaise nodded.
Draco, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle nodded in approval.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "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!"
What a load of rubbish, Draco thought. He didn’t think too much of Dumbledore except that he had allowed Mudbloods in the school which was disapproved by the Malfoys. His father said that he was the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts.
They started to feast. Draco had roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, sausages, and carrots. They were tolerable to his taste of food.
“This isn’t what I expected,” Crabbe said through chewing
“I know, this is cheap compared to what father feeds me,” Nott replied.
Crabbe turned to a light pink. “I meant I didn’t expect it to be this good.”
Draco rolled his eyes. His friends had no taste in good food.
“So, who’s ready to win the house championship?” an older Slytherin asked. “The name’s Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team.”
Draco stared at him in awe. “Do you think if I got my father to send me my broom I just bought I could be on the team?”
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t think so, there hasn’t been a first year on a house quidditch team in over a century I think.”
“That’s rubbish,” he muttered.
He took a bite of his roast chicken.
“We’ve won the house championship six years in a row! The Bloody Baron will tell you all about it,” Flint said.
Draco turned around and jumped. He saw a ghost with blank eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood.
“Bloody hell!” Draco screeched.
“I heard my name and the house championship, are you talking about how Nearly Headless Nick can’t stand we’ve won the cup six years in a row?”
Draco didn’t care about what happened then, he cared about making them win this year and bring them to year seven of winning.
He zoned out when the Bloody Baron started describing what each Slytherin had gotten points for from some Professor Snape.
Draco glanced at the High Table. In the middle was Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall was speaking to him. There was a man in a turban talking to a greasy haired, hooked nose teacher.
“I heard the man in the turban is Professor Quirrel and you should know who he’s talking to Draco!” Nott whispered.
Draco stared at him more. “Is that Severus Snape? Wasn’t he a Death Eater with our fathers?” he said.
“Shhhh! Say it any louder, will you, Malfoy?” Theodore snarled in a hushed tone. “Do you want both of our fathers to get chucked into Azkaban?”
Draco grunted. He felt the fellow Slytherins wouldn’t care. They were all Purebloods and maybe a few Half-bloods.
The normal food disappeared after a while and desserts appeared. They were also tolerable.
“I can’t believe father expects me to eat this rubbish all year,” Theodore snorted.
Crabbe and Goyle stopped stuffing their mouths with apple pies and jam doughnuts.
Soon dessert got finished too and Albus Dumbledore got to his feet.
"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Blood Traitor Weasley twins.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
There were barely any laughs and stupid Potter was one of the few. Was he mental?
Soon Potter’s smile got wiped away after talking to the Weasley prefect.
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.
“If he thinks I’m singing that, he’s mad,” Draco muttered.
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.”
As Crabbe sang a bit, Draco slapped his arm to make him stop from embarrassment.
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.
“Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"
“We don’t have a proper prefect, so we have this guy called Third-Floor corridor Slytherin Prefect. But most of the time I can lead you since I’m Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, that ranks me higher than most,” Marcus Flint said with an arrogant tone.
