Chapter 8: A Feast, a Family, and a Home

"At first you’d think me ugly,

But there’s more than that to me;

I'll show you something deep inside,

Beyond what your eyes can see.

This old Sorting Hat has its job,

And it goes just like so:

I’ll take a peek inside your head

And put you where you need to go.

Four houses await you today,

Each great in their own right;

They each will soon become your home,

Starting from tonight.

Perhaps you’ll be in Gryffindor,

Where the bravest show their nerve;

They’ll be chivalrous and noble,

To get the praise that they deserve.

You may find home with Hufflepuff,

Where honesty is key;

And their hard-work and loyalty

Helps us all learn to agree.

Or maybe you belong in Ravenclaw,

With your wit beyond compare;

Their creative hearts and clever minds,

Are unlike else anywhere.

You might belong in Slytherin

For those of great ambition;

They use their sly and cunning natures,

To do anything of their volition.

So now at last, my song is done,

Though not to your chagrin;

The time has come, so put me on,

And let the sorting now begin!"

I smiled as the rest of the hall dissolved into scattered applause. I don’t think that’s one of the song from any of the books… I thought to myself, and I started wondering if the song changed every year when Professor Flitwick stepped forward again.

“Welcome, all, to a new year at Hogwarts,” he said, his voice somewhat high-pitched and squeaking, “Before we begin sorting the first year students into their houses, we have a new exchange student from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in North America. She will be spending her third year as well as the remainder of her schooling here with us, and therefore, needs to be sorted - Miss Rosie McIntosh.” I stood up straighter, opening the door fully and directing everyone’s attention to me.

That’s a lot of people… I shook the thought from my head, and stepped out into the Great Hall. I couldn’t afford to get nervous now. My steps, however, remained slightly hesitant as I made my way over to the Sorting Hat. I kept my gaze facing the stool, though I thought I could see Fred and George give me a thumbs-up as I neared the Gryffindor table. I smiled at them for a moment, then moved to stand before the Sorting Hat.

I guess it’s now or never… The professor helping Flitwick - a dark-skinned witch whose robes glittered like the stars projecting on the ceiling above our heads - removed the hat from the stool. I took a deep, calming breath, and sat down, meeting Fred and George’s gaze once more before the hat fell over my eyes.

“Ah, now this is an interesting development…” I nearly jumped - I had been expecting to hear the Sorting Hat’s voice in my head, but the suddenness still shocked me. “You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

No shit, Sherlock, I thought to the hat, earning a small chuckle.

“Such a curious development,” the hat wondered, “and oh, the things you know… Such dangerous knowledge, should it fall in the wrong hands… But where to put you...” I had a sudden thought, similar to Harry’s irrational fear from his sorting, of being sent away without being sorted at all. That there had been a mistake; that I really wasn’t supposed to be here at all. I shook the image from my mind, and was thankful when the hat ignored it.

“You know much, yes, but there is no thirst for it - Ravenclaw wouldn’t be a good match, no…” That much, I had figured from the start; I had always been smart, sure, but if I couldn’t apply the knowledge somehow, then I wouldn’t bother with it. I’ll likely be awful in History of Magic… and Herbology…

“Ambitious, I see, and cunning as well…” the hat continued, ”Planning to put that knowledge to good use, eh? You might do well in Slytherin…” I frowned at its words.

Bad idea, I told it, remembering the students I saw at the table draped in silver and green; their glares and vicious smirks from when I first stepped out would forever be imprinted in the back of my mind.

“True, true, they’ll eat you alive. Not Slytherin, then… Hmm…” I wondered idly how long I had been up there; if I strained my ears, I could just barely hear hushed whispers floating about the hall.

“You have great loyalty, and an honest nature… Hufflepuff might work well, though you are lacking in patience...” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the comment. “Ah, but bravery is there, as well… A need for justice, and such a hot temper - Gryffindor would be a good fit, as well.”

So it’s between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor? I thought; I could definitely hear the chatter now - I must have been here nearly three minutes by now.

“You would do better in Hufflepuff, I think…” the hat answered, humming to itself, “You’ve made friends in Gryffindor, yes, but you’re much too humble for their house...” I snorted at that one; I was almost certain Fred and George had never heard the word before in their lives.

“Though, being in Gryffindor may help you with your...quest,” I thought about that for a moment. Being in Gryffindor would make it easier to keep an eye on the others - Ginny and the “Golden Trio”, in particular… But I already knew so much about Gryffindor house. I found myself imagining just how different my quest might turn out were I in Hufflepuff; I wanted to learn more about the house - and really, how much harder could it be?

I’ll trust you to make the right decision, I thought finally to the hat, After all, you’re very rarely wrong. The hat chuckled.

“That I am,” it responded, and I shut my eyes tight in anticipation of what the decision would turn out to be, “Then that leaves only one choice...” A hush seemed to fall over the hall, and I realized that the hat must have spoken aloud.

Here we go…

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hall erupted into cheers as the hat was lifted from my head. I could feel my cheeks beginning to hurt from my smiling, but I ignored it and quickly moved over toward the table to my immediate left, sitting under yellow and black banners and other decorations. A few students, who I assumed were around my age, made some room for me right across from where Fred and George were sitting at the Gryffindor table next to us.

They must have told them to move over for me, I thought with a laugh, Probably want to get on to me for not being in Gryffindor, like they are. Ha! But not even the thought of them being fake-mad at me could get me down as I took the open seat at the table, smiling even brighter to the brown-haired girl on my right as she held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Willow,” she said, her dark eyes shining warmly in the candlelight, “I’m a third-year, too! We’ll be in the dorms together!” I shook her outstretched hand.

“I’m Rosie,” I giggled, trying to quiet myself down as Flitwick began calling names up to get sorted, “I’m glad to meet you.”

“I’m glad to meet you, too!” She spoke a little louder as Colin Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor.

“Oi!” The two of us turned around to face the twins behind us.

“What?” I asked, smiling at the false pouts adorning both of their faces.

“How could you leave us, Rosie-Posie?” George whined.

“Yeah, after all we’ve done for you?” Fred faked a tear, and I laughed. Willow glanced between us for a moment, a strange look on her face.

“You guys… know each other?” she asked hesitantly. From where we sat, I could hear Jonathan Darby get sorted into Ravenclaw.

“I’m staying with the Weasleys over the holidays while I finish school,” I answered, earning a nod, “They’re kind of my host family so long as I’m in the country.”

“Why did you come to Hogwarts? Weren’t you going to school back home?” I stiffened slightly - I couldn’t remember if Dumbledore and I had discussed what was my “official story”.

“I’m… not allowed to talk about it,” I finished lamely. A thin brow raised on Willow’s tanned face, but she seemed to buy it, and we all returned to watching the sorting, cheering as Hufflepuff got another first year, Herbert Fleet.

The sorting was slow going from there; only four new Hufflepuffs (besides myself), were sorted, and only one of them, Pamela Browning, was a girl. Can they have dorms with only one student in them? I wondered, but shook it off and cheered loudly as Ginny was, obviously, sorted into Gryffindor. Professor Flitwick and the teacher helping him - who Willow told me was the astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra - quickly put away the scroll and stool, before Flitwick gave a quick wave of his wand… and the feast appeared.

I swear my eyes must have been the size of tennis balls, I was trying so hard to see all of the food laid out before me. Various meats - steak, pork, chicken, some kind of roast - various veggie platters, meat pies, all kinds of potatoes, maybe three or four kinds of gravy, and a few baskets of breads and rolls spaced periodically between students. Not even at Thanksgiving, had I ever seen so much food before.

“Don’t just sit there,” Willow nudged me, knocking me out of my stupor, “Eat, before it disappears!” Nodding quickly, I rushed to fill my plate with as much of everything as I could fit, digging in as soon as my plate was full. A few bites in, I remembered to wash down my food with what was in the golden goblet beside me, and nearly choked when I realized what it was.

Huh, so that’s what pumpkin juice tastes like… The spices had given it away almost immediately, but it wasn’t too bad, so I took another quick gulp and continued eating.

Professor Dumbledore returned some time after that, with another teacher following closely behind him, and Professor McGonagall not far behind him. This other teacher took a seat in one of the empty chairs on Dumbledore’s left, and I stared, curious.

That must be… He turned to face the hall, and I froze in my seat, my fork halfway to my mouth. He turned towards my table, and I felt my throat close up as his eyes met mine.

No way… Images filled my head, different scenes from a number of different movies - though most of them from the Harry Potter films. His face, changing only slightly each time, filled my head, and I choked back my tears. Was it cruelty or destiny, I couldn’t decide, that brought Alan Rickman back to us like this?

Except that’s not Alan Rickman… No, the real Alan Rickman had passed on not even a week before my arrival in this world, but the man with Alan Rickman’s face was sitting right before me, exactly as the films had portrayed Professor Severus Snape to be - there was no one it could be but him. I could even hear his voice in my head, those terrible, heart-wrenching words - Always... His dark brow raised, and I turned my head back to my plate swiftly, stuffing another bite of some kind of pudding into my mouth.

Right, I thought, he can read minds… Fantastic… Soon, the feast disappeared to bring on dessert. I felt equally as amazed by the assortment of ice cream blocks, cakes, tarts, fruit pies, and other delectable-looking things I couldn’t seem to name. Once again, I stuffed my face full with anything I could get my hands on - I thought it might look almost pig-ish, but thankfully everyone else seemed to be in similar states around me as they, too, dug into the delicious desserts. Once everyone was full to bursting, the food and plates disappeared again, and all eyes fell on the staff table as Professor Dumbledore rose to give his start-of-term speech.

“Welcome, all, to a brand new year at Hogwarts!” His blue eyes twinkled like little stars in the candlelight as he smiled down at all of us, “Now that we’ve all finished our delectable meal, I’d like to make a few announcements before you all head to your dormitories to sleep the fullness away. First off, I’d like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart.” The hall exploded with applause, accompanied by a number of dreamy sighs as some of the female students watched the new professor take a slight bow - Willow included.

“Oh, a fan of his, are you?” I asked, and she turned on my on the spot.

“Who isn’t?!” she exclaimed, glancing back at the staff table. Rolling my eyes, I looked over to see a… very handsome man smiling brightly out at the student body. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him - or any at all, really - that day on Diagon Alley; his blonde hair was perfectly curled and styled atop his head, and his baby-blue eyes held the daytime sky in their crystal-clear depths. He turned towards our table, almost but not quite making eye contact, and I caught a glimpse of his perfect dimples as he winked. My knees suddenly felt weak.

Oh dear God, NO… I shook myself from my girlish stupor, cursing my rapidly beating heart as my cheeks flushed brighter than they ever had before. I couldn’t be attracted to Gilderoy Lockhart - I simply couldn’t. I couldn’t afford to fall for his charms. I refuse to be one of those girls. No way, no how.

“Oh no, not you, too,” I turned around at the sound of Fred’s voice to see both twins shaking their heads at me, “We thought better of you than this, Rosaline.”

“I am better than that,” I spat, trying to keep my voice down, “I just… didn’t know he looked like that, is all…”

“So, you’ve never read his books?” George asked, and I shook my head.

“Load of fiction, if you ask me.” He seemed pleased by my answer, and the two of them were about to turn back around when I grabbed onto their robes, “You’ll stop me if I start turning into one of… them, won’t you?” They grinned.

“Of course.”

“What’re friends for?” I smiled gratefully, then we all turned back to Professor Dumbledore as the applause finally seemed to quiet down.

“Yes, yes, well, I think I speak for us all when I wish him ‘good luck’.” I snorted, and leaned back again really quick.

“Five galleons he’s in St. Mungo’s by July,” I whispered over Fred’s shoulder. I heard him laugh under his breath.

“Betting on the fate of our newest professor, Rosie?” he whispered back, a roguish grin on his face, “That’s tasteless and tacky… Ten galleons he gets trampled by centaurs in the Forbidden Forest.” I smirked.

“You’re on.”

After we were dismissed, I decided to follow one of the Hufflepuff prefects - I think his name was Nitin Divekar - along with the first years to learn the route to take to the Hufflepuff common room. We took one of the staircases off the main halls down towards the basement, passing the portrait of fruit that concealed the entrance to the kitchens before stopping in front of a pile of barrels in a shadowy corner on the right.

“Where’s the common room?” one of the first years, Calvin Summerby asked, his messy blonde hair covering his eyes. Nitin smiled.

“It’s right through here,” he said, and directed us right in front of the barrels. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it towards the second barrel from the bottom, in the middle of the second row. He tapped it twice, then three more times. The lid to the barrel shifted and seemed to disappear, leaving an earthy tunnel open to our view. The first years gasped in awe.

“Tapping the wrong barrel, or the wrong rhythm opens on of the other barrels to douse you in vinegar, so watch out!” Nitin spoke, catching our attention, “Always remember - the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, and tapped in the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. Now, in you go.” The first years were hesitant, but I quickly stepped forward to take a look into the tunnel; I couldn’t see much, though from what I could tell, the earthy look to the tunnel was actual dirt and soil.

Here’s hoping I don’t constantly need to change clothes after going through here, I thought, before I hopped into the tunnel, and slid down the hole. Or rather, up the hole, as it seemed to go in all directions for a while before dropping me on my butt in the middle of the common room. I moved quickly out of the way of the tunnel’s exit - no way I wanted to be the next entrant’s landing cushion.

“Whoa…” I gasped as I looked around the room; The walls were a warm, sunshine yellow color, though the seemed almost orange in the glow of the fireplace - the only light source in the room at the moment; there were a few windows up near the ceiling, just above the ground outside, where the moon outside could be seen above the trees. There were various plants scattered throughout the room - small fruit trees, hanging ferns, and a few magical-looking plants I didn’t recognize - along with cushiony, yellow and brown chairs and sofas. I heard an oomph! Sound behind me, and turned to see the first years piled on top of one another, with Nitin standing above them, smiling.

“Girls dorms are in the rounded hall to the left,” he said, moving towards a particularly comfy-looking arm chair next to a small bookshelf in the corner, “and boys are the same on the right; each of the rooms has your year on the sign out front, so don’t go running into the upper years’ dorms. Breakfast starts at 7:30 sharp, and Professor Sprout will be passing out your timetables for classes around 8. I suggest you all go to bed to ensure you’re well rested for tomorrow. Welcome home.” With that, I moved over to the left of the room into a rounded alcove, with bright yellow doors lining the wall. I walked until I saw one with “Third Year Girls” written in gold, swirling script on a black sign, and pushed the door open.

Wow, I thought to myself, walking in. The room was rectangular, with two wooden, four-poster beds on either side, draped in honey-gold curtains and with black, gold-trimmed sheets. At the far end of the room was another door, which I assumed led to a bathroom. My three other roommates were all already asleep, with an open bed right by Willow - who was splayed across her bed, snoring away.

“Mraow,” I moved over to the open bed to see my trunk sitting at the foot of it, with Frodo’s empty basket rested on top of it. The kitten in question was already curled up on my pillow, blinking up at me with tired eyes. I cooed at him, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears before moving back over to the trunk. My movement was sluggish as all the food I ate caught up with me, but I soon found myself in my pj’s, crawling under the covers and snuggling up to my kitty.

“Good night, little hobbit,” I yawned, pulling the curtains around us to try to block out my roommate’s snoring. Bundled up under the covers, I closed my eyes, smiling as I began to drift off to sleep.

Yeah, I thought, I could definitely learn to call this place home...