As soon as she was out of sight eve

As soon as she was out of sight everyone immediately began whispering among themselves.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?" Hermione asked, obviously nervous but trying her best to hide it. "I know it's based on personality, but-"

"You put on a Hat," Harry replied calmly, even though inside he wasn't fairing any better than she was. "It looks into your head to determine your personality and then you go to whatever House suits you best." He didn't mention that he thought letting something poke around in your head like that was a terrible invasion of privacy, even if it was a sentient hat.

Hermione looked relieved. "Thank God. I thought it would be some kind of test. Not that I don't know any spells, I mean I read all my course books twice and after I got my wand I went out in the backyard-we've got a privacy fence, you know-and I started practicing some defense spells and-"

Harry had actually done the exact same thing after he had gotten his wand, though instead of a privacy fence the backyard simply had very strong notice-me-not charms around it. In fact, the entire property had a series of dark magic wards in place that did rather gruesome things to trespassers.

"-and I'm very sure that I know History of Magic well enough to get an A-I mean, an 'O'-on at least a multiple choice test-"

Gasps suddenly echoed from the crowd, drawing Harry's attention away from Hermione and her ramblings.

Two ghosts had drifted through the wall into the room. Harry wasn't very shocked - there were plenty of ghosts at Riddle Manor, and every single one of them was a lot scarier than these.

The two ghosts seemed to be arguing about something until one of them noticed the first years.

"I say, what are you doing here?"

Nobody answered until Harry spoke up, not quite seeing why everyone else was so frightened: "We're the first years waiting to be sorted."

"Oh! Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" one of the ghosts, who looked rather like a Friar, replied. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," a sharp voice commanded. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. The ghosts floated off through the walls.

"Now, form a single file line and follow me."

Any bravado Harry might've had began to quickly disappear, and a slightly sick, nervous feeling took up home in his stomach. He was almost upon the moment of truth, literally minutes away. Would he be a Slytherin, like his father, or a Gryffindor, like his mudblood mother? Would just having a parent in Gryffindor be enough to negate being a blood relative of one of the actual Founders himself?

Or what if, by some sadistic twist of fate, he ended up in Ravenclaw or, even worse, Hufflepuff? If he wasn't a Slytherin, would his father disown him? Throw him onto the street? Kill him? Would Pansy and Blaise and everyone else he already knew not want to be his friend anymore? Would Draco even stop talking to him, forget almost ten years of friendship because of House rivalry? Would his Aunt Bellatrix refuse to speak to him, call him a mudblood or blood traitor? Would Severus treat him horribly in class, bully him like he did all the other Gryffindors?

Suddenly, Severus's cruelty towards his students didn't seem all that funny anymore.

They had reached the Great Hall, and his racing, upsetting thoughts were broken by Hermione's whisper of, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." Harry glanced up at the charmed ceiling. He had to admit that it was impressive. It was, in fact, so realistic that Harry had a hard time imagining that the Great Hall didn't just open up into the heavens.

Looking around, he saw four tables lined up facing another long table at the front of the hall, where all the professors sat. Headmaster Dumbledore was situated in the middle, just oozing kindly-old-grandfather-ness. All the students (and there were quite a lot of them) sat at the table decorated with their respective House colors. All the Slytherins looked vaguely sinister, the Hufflepuffs vaguely empty headed, the Ravenclaws vaguely snooty, and the Gryffindors as completely insufferable as ever.

Harry focused his attention back on Professor McGonagall as she silently placed a wooden, four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed a ragged wizards' hat.

Harry had imagined the fabled Sorting Hat to be a bit grander than that, at least in better condition. It was so dirty he guessed that his father wouldn't have let it in the manor.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence, then a rip near the brim opened like a mouth and the Hat began to sing:

"Riddle me this, riddle me that,

For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat.

I am about to have a ball,

Sorting the most cryptic Riddle of all.

Where shall this enigma go?

Shall I shout out Gryffindor,

Whose audacious honor makes them subject of lore?

Their daring, nerve, and bravery set Gryffindors apart.

Shall I shout out Ravenclaw,

Where lie those whose intellect has no flaw?

Their studious ways make them the most knowledgeable of all.

Shall I shout out Hufflepuff,

Where their loyalty and fairness,

Prove to be ageless?

A Hufflepuff will never be afraid of toil.

Shall I shout out Slytherin,

Where dwell the sly and cunning?

Those who belong to this house will do anything,

To achieve their ends.

So where shall I sort this conundrum,

This puzzle,

This most mysterious Riddle?

I'm not yet sure of that,

So, come try me on,

Don't be afraid,

For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!"

The whole hall burst into applause when the Hat finished its song, and not one person looked shocked, as if a bit of cloth that could sing was an everyday sight. Harry himself had previously thought that when inanimate objects suddenly became sentient it meant that they were enchanted with dark magic and therefore dangerous, but he supposed that if the Hat was an actual dark artifact someone would've complained to the Board of Governors a long time ago.

The Hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became still. Harry glared at it suspiciously for a while before tearing his eyes away to survey the Great Hall again. He overheard a redheaded boy (probably a Weasley, he decided) whisper about how his brother had been going on about having to wrestle a troll. Harry had to roll his eyes at that. Did they really think the school was out to kill them? The population was struggling as it was.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall began, "you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl with pig tails rushed up to the stool and put the hat on. After a moment's pause, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right, decorated with yellow and black, cheered as Hannah took the Hat off and ran to take a seat. Harry saw the Friar's ghost waving happily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The girl scampered off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left, done up in bronze and blue, clapped this time.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The red and gold table on the far left exploded with cheers. Harry could see two redheaded twins (also probably Weasleys, he decided) who had been at King's Cross Station cat-calling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry and Draco both clapped along with the Slytherin Table.

"Corner, Michael!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Just as his father had once told him, it took a different amount of time for each person to be sorted. For some, the Hat barely touched their head before it called out their House; for others, the Hat had to sit there for almost a minute.

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Goldstein, Anthony!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Harry watched coldly as Hermione scurried towards the stool. This would determine whether or not she would be worth anything to him in the future. He would not associate with a Gryffindor, but if she was a Ravenclaw, that would be a very different story. It was a rather neutral House, as was Hufflepuff, but while the latter leaned towards the Dumbledore side of things, the former tended to go over to Voldemort.

The Hat sat on her head for almost a minute before declaring her to be a "RAVENCLAW!"

Harry waved at her once she got seated.

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The boy who kept losing his toad stumbled his way up to the stool. The Hat sat on his head for almost two minutes before shouting out "HUFFLEPUFF!" Neville ran off still wearing the Hat and had to come all the way back to give it to Professor McGonagall, who looked irritated.

"MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Macmillan, Ernie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

Harry smirked. This wouldn't take long.

Draco swaggered forward and put the Hat on his head. After less than a second, it decided he was very much fit to be a "SLYTHERIN!"

"Moon, Marissa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Nott, Theodore!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

After the Hufflepuff table had settled down, Professor McGonagall looked down to announce the next student's name, but the words died on her lips. Her already pale face went as white as a sheet and her eyes moved back and forth over the same line several times. Finally, she stuttered out, "R- R- Riddle, Harry!"

Harry smirked. She seemed to have recognized his last name already. His father had mentioned something about them attending Hogwarts at the same time, though he could truthfully say that his father looked very much younger than her. He strutted up to the stool and sat down, forcing himself to look as confident as he possibly could.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head with trembling hands. It slid