Dear Diary,

So, let's pick up where we left off, shall we?

After the train stopped, all the students rushed out to be faced with a dimly lit platform and a chilly wind blowing off a lake. Truth be told, I was a tad confused, kind of milling around with a bunch of students who looked about my age. Suddenly, I heard a voice boom out, "Firs' years! Firs' years wi' me!" I spun around and gawked at a giant man standing at least seven feet tall, and rather round around the middle. I swear, I'm not making this up! His bushy beard blew around his face from the wind, and he held a lantern in one hand, gesturing towards the group of first years. We hurried over, still a bit in shock, and clambered into a small fleet of boats that the man gestured to. I tucked my hands into my robes and examined my surroundings, my eyes wide as saucers.

The boats lurched forward, and my hands shot out of my robe and onto the side of the boat to keep from plunging headfirst into the lake. I gasped and jerked my hands away from the side though, when what looked like a tentacle snaked out from the depths of the lake and glided across the surface, hesitating a bit before ducking under again. I shivered and looked up. The boats rounded a corner and I gasped at the sight before me. I'm telling you now, that view was amazing, possibly the best view of the castle you could get. The countless towers of the castle speared the sky, which was fading to a deep cobalt. The windows glowed golden, giving glimpses of warmth and comfort. 

The view lasted a bit longer, and I soaked up every minute of it. Much too soon, though, Hagrid called out a warning and we ducked under a thick veil of vines, entering a dark cave. After a few seconds in darkness, we heard a crunch and the boats slid onto the rocky shore. We clambered out of the boats and trudged up a sloping bank to a huge, ornate door. The door slowly ground open, warm light spilling out and revealing a stiff-looking lady in dark green robes. Let me guess... the professor smiled briefly at the students and beckoned them inside. "I'll take them from here, Hagrid," she said sternly. "O' course, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said. Even he seemed cowed by that commanding tone. I know I was!

The group of first years shuffled inside and I was glad to be out of that damp cave. We headed up a broad staircase up to a landing where Professor McGonagall turned around and gave a lengthy lecture about the Houses, the Sorting Ceremony, and the House Cup. I listened, in a trance, almost, but shook myself out of it when she left and a stream of murmurs erupted from the first years. I made my way over to where a group of about five girls were standing around and talking. I recognized Hermione as one of them, and grinned broadly at her. She waved and gestured for me to stand next to her. I whispered to her, "Any idea which House you're going to get into?" She shook her head. 

"I was thinking about Ravenclaw, but then I remembered that Dumbledore was in Gryffindor, and he's supposedly a genius." I nodded thoughtfully. "Hogwarts, A History, chapter 4, page 9, correct?" She glanced at me, surprised. "Yes. How did you know that?" I shrugged and grinned at her. "What can I say? I like doing my research." I could tell she was impressed, which pleased me. Just then, about twenty or so transparent ghosts streamed through the wall above our heads. Several first years gasped and ducked, but I just stood there, frozen to the spot. After I got over my shock of seeing my first ghosts, I noticed that they seemed to be arguing about something. "I say we ought to give him a second chance," one said, dressed in a long robe with a copious belly spilling over a belt. Wait a second. "I remember Dad telling me about these ghosts," I whispered to Hermione, who had gone very pale.

"That one is the Fat Friar," I pointed at the one who had spoken. "That's Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, otherwise known as Nearly Headless Nick." I pointed to one with a head of curly hair and a high ruff encircling his neck. Hermione nodded, realization blooming on her face. "Oh yes!" She exclaimed. "And that one is the Bloody Baron!" She indicated a ghost with silver blood decorating his cloak and a haughty look on his face. "The Slytherin ghost," I confirmed. She squealed and clapped her hands. "This is so exciting!" She said, well, excitedly. I grinned. "Best school ever," I agreed. 

Suddenly, the doors in front of us ground open, revealing a long hall with four tables, each with a banner hanging above it. We shuffled forward in a crude line, Professor McGonagall striding in front of us. We formed a line in front of a small stool, with a worn, leather wizard's hat sitting on top of it. After a few seconds the students already sitting at the tables quieted down, and the hat began to... SING?! Yes, sing. Its voice was warm and humorous, but raspy, and terribly off-key. At the end of the song, the Head table and the tables behind us clapped politely, while the first years gawked. Cue the cricket chirps. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

Professor McGonagall explained how the Sorting would go, and I heard more than a few sighs of relief from the first years. I pursed my lips and waited impatiently for the Sorting to start. "Abbott, Hannah!" The professor called, reading from a long scroll. A nervous-looking girl with blonde hair in pigtails stepped forward hesitantly and the professor placed the Hat on her head. The Hat slipped over her eyes easily and a few minutes passed before the Hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The girl quickly took the Hat off and scurried to the Hufflepuff table, where the students gave a hearty round of applause. 

The Sorting dragged on forever. I became lost in my thoughts and jumped when Professor McGonagall called, "Hunt, Elizabeth!" I swallowed nervously, but walked confidently to the stool and sat down primly as the professor slipped the Hat on my head. The inside of the Hat was pitch-black. I jumped (again) as a voice inside my head said, "Well, well. If it isn't Elizabeth Hunt. Lovely to meet you, dear." I cleared my throat and thought, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sorting Hat." (I know you must think this is crazy, but I swear I'm not making this up!) The Sorting Hat chuckled. "Well, let's see. Hmm, certainly not Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw, no... not much of a hard worker I see." My cheeks heated. It's a well-known fact that I'm incredibly lazy. "Let's see, Gryffindor, well, maybe, but I don't really think... ah well. Here we are. SLYTHERIN!" 

I smiled and took the Hat off my head. I stood up and held my head high as I marched over to the Slytherin table, where the students clapped politely. I shook a few hands and greeted a few people to the table, but soon enough the Sorting was over and the feast had begun. I'll say this; the food was AMAZING. These people really know how to cook! From chicken to turkey to green beans to Jell-O, the table had it all. I was full to the brim before dessert was half-way over. When we were all full and sleepy, Professor Dumbledore stood up and smiled a fatherly smile (or I should say, grandfatherly) at the students. "Before we all go to bed, I would like to say a few words." I perked up. Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Blubber, oddment and tweak! Now, off to bed with you!" I blinked. That wasn't what I expected at all. "Some say Dumbledore's mad," a third year girl whispered to me with a wink. I smiled. "Well, I wouldn't say mad. Perhaps a bit eccentric." 

She shrugged. "Same difference." The Slytherin prefect (Marcus Flint was his name I think) led us down a winding staircase and through a corridor. I tried to keep track of my surroundings, but Hogwarts is a maze! I'm pretty sure we were in the dungeons, though. We finally stopped at a blank wall, and Flint said the password loudly. "Ignis laporo," he announced, and the wall swung inward to reveal the Slytherin common room. Ornate Persian rugs covered the floor, and dark green velvet couches were sprawled across the room, with a few mahogany tables in the corner for studying at. Paintings of stern-looking wizards were dotted across the walls, and the depths of the lake were visible through the window. Overall, it gave an air of careless wealth and perfection. I sighed in content, and a few other girls and I went up another staircase. The dorm rooms had the same air, with ornate four-post beds and green velvet duvets. I undressed quickly and flopped on my bed. And that's pretty much where I've been for the past hour, writing in you. Ha, writing in you. That's funny. Sorry, I'm not thinking straight. I'd better get to sleep. Classes await. Wish me luck!

Sweet dreams,

Lizzie