The students exited the passage in the boulder on the grassy school grounds. They went up a few more flights of stairs before ending at a large wooden door. A tall woman came out of the door thanked Hagrid and led the first years into a small room off to the side.  

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she began, “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 rule-breaking 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.  

“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. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly,” Professor McGonagall, as Hagrid had addressed her, finished. 

The chatter intensified the moment she left the room. 

“What house do you think you will be in?” 

“I heard Slytherin is the worst house.” 

“What do you suppose the Ceremony is like?” 

“Yeah, Jeremy, smarten yourself up!” 

Azalea looked at Maesie who had a look of complete wonder across her face. 

“What do you think you will be in?” Azalea asked. 

Maesie turned to her, “I’m going to be in Hufflepuff, Charlotte is and so has the rest of my family. 

“Oh,” Azalea said, nodding slowly, “I probably won’t see you much then. I’m going to be a Slytherin, since I’m a Malfoy and all.” 

Maesie’s eyes widened, “You are a Malfoy? How? You don’t look like one.” 

“Different genes, I guess,” Azalea replied. 

Maesie was about to reply when the group of students began moving towards the Great Hall. Azalea followed the crowd, Maesie right behind her. As Azalea entered the hall, she heard a song about the four houses finishing up in the front of the room. She stood on her tiptoes and peered over the first years. To her surprise there was an old grubby hat lying on a stool, with its brim open wide. It took Azalea about two seconds to realize that the hat itself was singing. She gasped and the hat finished its song, allowing Professor McGonagall to begin reading off a list of names. One by one, students walked up and sat on the stool. They placed that hat on their head and after a few minutes or seconds, the hat would yell out a house. Then the student would set the hat down and go sit at their table. 

Azalea watched in silence as Dawning, Maesie walked up to the hat and sat down. It took a mere four seconds for the hat to sort her into Hufflepuff, just as expected. Azalea felt a bit of sadness, watching her one and only friend sit at the table under the yellow banner, crowded with smiling, cheerful students. Azalea’s eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table, where many moody, pouting students sat, looking grumpy and annoyed.  

Azalea was so focused on her thoughts that she almost missed her name being called. She walked slowly towards the hat, feeling all eyes on her back as she approached the lump of brown cloth. She lifted the hat over her head and sat down. 

“Hmmm... what do we have here?” a voice said in Azalea’s head. 

“A Malfoy,” Azalea thought. 

“I see someone who has been deceived. A girl who knows not, her own power and strength. A brave soul. Someone who belongs in GRYFFINDOR!” the Sorting Hat shouted.  

The entire hall went quiet, but nothing compared to the look of shock written on Draco’s face. The last time a Pureblood had been sorted into Gryffindor was Sirius Black and it was only eleven years ago that he had killed twelve muggles. The Weasley family were also Gryffindors, but they were blood traitors and didn’t count. 

Azalea was frozen, “How can I be in Gryffindor? I’m a Malfoy!” she thought. 

Eventually Azalea made her way to the Gryffindor table and sat down, her mind still racing. She knew that when her father found out, he would be very angry. Azalea watched Draco get sorted into Slytherin. Her mind was completely out of it until she heard, “Potter, Harry.” Immediately the hall burst into whispers about the name. Azalea looked at the boy walking towards the hat. 

Azalea gasped. The boy named Harry Potter looked exactly like her. His frazzled black hair replicated Azalea’s long black locks perfectly. His almond shaped eyes shone an emerald green, just like Azalea’s did. He sat down on the stool and the entire hall held their breath.  

“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted out. Harry Potter set the hat down and walked over to the Gryffindor table. He sat down, right next to Azalea, making her breath catch in her throat. She felt very uncomfortable sitting next to this boy. After a few more sortings, the feast began. Azalea ate quickly, not looking at Potter on her right and keeping quiet. The moment the last morsal of food hit Azalea’s tongue, she bolted, leaving the Gryffindor table and the rest of the Great Hall behind her. 

Azalea slipped into the nearest room she could find, which happened to be a broom closet, and began to cry, tears spilling down her cheeks. All the feelings, sadness, anger, and confusion from the past day came pouring out in big fat droplets of water. She had been mad at Draco for the fact that he apparently had a ton of friends that Azalea didn’t even know about. She was super confused about that person grabbing her and locking her up. She was especially angry at Draco for shoving her. She was upset, confused, and angry that she had been sorted into Gryffindor of all places. Azalea didn’t even know what to think anymore. 

After what felt like hours, Azalea got up and left the broom closet, dried tear streaks and red, puffy eyes prominent on her face. As she stepped out of the closet, Azalea realized she had been in it for much longer than she thought. The corridors were pitch black, not a sound to be heard. Azalea began to walk in hopes of finding the Gryffindor tower when she heard a sound of echoing footsteps coming from behind her.   

Azalea whirled around and saw a small flouting bulb of light in the corridor behind her. She shuddered, thinking of all the many things that could be coming towards her. As the light got closer Azalea realized that there was a person holding the light at the end of a wand. As the figure got closer, the person formed into a girl, the one sorted right after Draco to be exact. Her name was Lily Moon, a fellow Gryffindor. 

Lily walked over to Azalea, “Are you okay?” she asked in a soft, feathery voice. 

“Yes,” Azalea replied, not wanting to admit what she had spent the last few hours crying about. 

Lily looked at Azalea skeptically, “Are you sure? You didn’t look okay when you ran out of the Great Hall, and you look like you have been crying a lot.” 

Azalea pulled her gazed up from the floor and onto Lily’s pale face. Lily had very pretty hazel eyes when you looked closely. If you weren’t paying attention, they could have looked brown. Lily’s hair was a medium blonde, and was falling down her back in elegant, sweeping curls. 

“I guess I’m not okay,” Azalea finally admitted.  

“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a great listener,” Lily asked sweetly. 

Azalea thought for a second before replying, “I need to go to sleep now, but maybe in the morning. Do you mind showing me to the Gryffindor tower?” 

Lily nodded, “Of course I will, that is why I came here in the first place. I remembered that you ran out of the Great Hall and when I saw that you weren’t at the dormitory, I decided to come find you.” 

Azalea and Lily exchanged smiles before the two first years began their walk back to the tower, talking quietly, so they wouldn’t get caught.