The Sorting

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          The woman led them into a side room and turned back to the new students, waiting until they'd all gathered around her.

          Draco looked at Harry and saw that he had his eyes squeezed, his breathing was coming in quick, short pants, and he was trembling. Draco gently held both of Harry's hands and turned him so he was facing Draco.

          "Breathe, Harry," he whispered in the terrified boy's ear, remembering his Godfather doing the same for him once or twice. "Just breathe. In and out, in and out." He kept talking quietly as Harry's breathing slowed down and the boy slowly relaxed. "Can you open your eyes for me?" It took a moment, but finally Harry's eyes opened and he looked at Draco, who smiled. They turned back to the Professor, who had finished talking. Knowing what the speech most likely was about, Draco quietly talked to Harry as they followed at the back of the line, Draco still holding one of Harry's hands.

          "That woman is Professor McGonagall. She's the transfiguration professor." He went on to explain the houses and what they stood for, making sure to leave out his own biased opinions as he didn't want to scare Harry. He didn't want the boy to think he'd stop being his friend if they were in separate houses. He really hoped Harry got sorted in the same house as him. He didn't know why but he had this overwhelming need to protect the boy, which would be easier if they were together. As they walked into the Great Hall, Draco noticed Harry was no longer paying attention to him. Instead, he was looking up at the ceiling, a look of awe on his face. It showed a clear, night sky with thousands of twinkling stars.

          "It's enchanted to look like the sky outside," a haughty voice said from a few paces in front of them. "I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." Just then, the hall fell silent as the ratty, old hat Professor McGonagall had just set on the stool in the front of the room 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 folks 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!

          As the sorting hat finished, thunderous applause came from the students sitting at four long tables. Harry focused on his breathing, Draco's hand squeezing his reassuringly, as the Professor started calling names.

          "Abbot, Hannah!"

          "Hufflepuff!"

          The sorting continued in the same manner with Professor McGonagall calling a name, the student sitting on a stool, and the hat calling out one of the four houses. Harry was getting a little anxious, one hand holding Draco's tightly, as his eyes studied his feet. 

          "Are you okay, Harry?" He looked at Draco and gave a slight nod. Draco looked like he was about to say something else when...

          "Malfoy, Draco!" Draco let go of Harry's hand and walked to the stool. Harry started to get even more anxious when he felt a gentle hand take his. He flinched but relaxed slightly when he saw Pansy holding his hand and looking at him with soft eyes. He relaxed even further and watched as Draco was sorted into Slytherin. The blonde gave him a smile before walking to the table with a green banner hanging above it. Pansy was called shortly after. Before he knew it...

          "Potter, Harry!" He stood still for a moment before remembering that was his name. Slowly, legs shaking, Harry made his way to the front, whispers following him the whole way.
          "Is that...?"

          "The Harry Potter?"

          "No way." Harry took a deep breath and sat on the stool, the Professor setting the hat on his head. It slid over his eyes, obscuring his view of the Great Hall.

          "Well, well, Mr. Potter at long last." Harry was so startled at hearing the voice in his head, he jumped and toppled off the stool, landing hard on the stone floor, the hat a few feet away from him. Hearing some of the other students laugh, Harry's face turned bright red as he grabbed the hat and climbed back on the stool, shoving it over his head.

          "I am quite sorry, Mr. Potter," the hat apologized.

          "It's a...alright," Harry whispered.

          "I keep telling them that they should warn students so they don't get startled but do they listen? Of course not. After all, I'm just an old hat." Harry giggled quietly, surprising himself. When was the last time he'd laughed? "Now, let's see." There was a moment's pause. "This is a difficult decision." The smile fell off Harry's face.

          "Please," he begged desperately. "Please s...sort me into a house. I...I can't go back to the D...Dursleys."

          "Hush, child," the hat said soothingly. "I just meant it's difficult because you have traits of all four houses. Of course, that's what helped you survive. You have the bravery of Gryffindor, the loyalty of Hufflepuff, the love of learning like Ravenclaw, and the cunning of Slytherin." Here he paused. "But it seems like you've already made quite the friend and protector in young Mr. Malfoy. Yes, I think you'd do quite well there." It was quiet for another moment. Then the hat opened his mouth.

          "Slytherin!"

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