The Sorting

Celena followed Professor McGonagall down a couple of corridors and into a plain room with a desk and a chair, bare walls and dirty windows. The fireplace was cold, extinguished and full of soot, and the room was crammed with trunks, plentiful of boxes and a cage containing a sulky-looking cat with fierce orange eyes, furry and black, except for a white elegant patch on his chest.
- Oh, Lenvik! – exclaimed the young witch. – He has been locked up for such a long time! May I?..

- By all means. – Minerva McGonagall flicked her wand casually, and a fire was set ablaze in the grate. The office suddenly acquired a much more welcoming look. – I know it's not something, - she said, gesturing towards the dusty desk and the dingy windows. – But the house elves will clean it up while we're down at the Great Hall, and your bedroom is ready, it's right here at the back of the office and I think you'll find it quite comfortable. Now tell me, Celena, how is Remus?
- Uncle Remus is just fine, - said Celena. – Works hard, and Dora has her hands full with little Teddy. But you probably know that already, you're both in the Ord-
- Shh! – McGonagall pressed a finger to her lips and gave Celena a disgruntled look. – I didn't know Remus told you we are still operating!
- He did, - Celena said timidly. – But I don't quite understand why –

- This is not the time to discuss it, - said McGonagall. – I will have to have a word with Remus… now, a few more questions before I leave you to start getting ready for the Feast. You have, of course, carefully studied our basic curriculum through the books of Arsenius Jigger and Libatius Borage?
- Oh, I spent half the summer reading them and planning the program accordingly! – Celena said happily. – And I think I have a few ideas of my own, just to make classes more interesting, an occasional treat, you know.
- That's settled, then. – said Professor McGonagall, looking pleased. – Now, about your older students, what is your standard for the N.E.W.T class?
- An "Acceptable" O.W.L, - said Celena. – I think that should do.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows.
- "Acceptable?" Are you sure that will be enough? I must remind you that Professor Snape didn't accept students into his N.E.W.T class without anything other than an "Outstanding" O.W.L. Now, I admit I used to think he's a bit harsh, but I thought you'd at least demand an "Exceeds Expectations" mark… - her voice trailed off in a tone of polite incredulity.
- Uncle Remus told me about Professor Snape's standards. But you see – I thought everyone who passes should be allowed a try. They can drop the subject later, or even fail the examination, but at least it won't be like they weren't given a chance in the first place.
She looked straight at Professor McGonagall, who seemed strangely, quietly pleased with this answer. That was encouraging, especially after Professor Snape's welcome, which made her feel she was pushed headfirst into a bucket of cold water. Uncle Remus told her to expect no better, though.

- Now, time to get ready. – said the Headmistress. – The Welcoming Feast is an excellent opportunity for you to meet all the staff members; you know some of them already, of course, for instance I remember you from Bill Weasley's wedding.
- Ah, now, - Celena smiled, - Fleur Delacour is a very good friend of mine, we went to Beauxbatons together. And we still keep in touch; she and Bill have got such a beautiful little place…
- I had no idea. Then again, I don't know Fleur very well. I will wait for you while you change, Celena, and then we can go down to the Feast together.

The Great Hall was magnificently decorated for the start-of-term feast, with its usual hundreds of candles floating in mid-air, the four House tables and the high staff table covered with white linen and hundreds of gleaming gold plates, forks, knives and goblets. The walls were draped in banisters carrying the symbols of all four Hogwarts houses – the gold and red Gryffindor lion, yellow and black Hufflepuff badger, blue and bronze Ravenclaw eagle, and finally, the green and silver serpent of Slytherin.

The first years were crossing the lake, as it was a tradition before Sorting could take place, but the older students were already sitting at the four long tables, the translucent House ghosts floating graciously above and between them. An object which looked a bit out of place in the midst of all this splendor was a plain wooden three-legged stool, which stood in the middle of the Hall. The old, patched hat from Professor McGonagall's office was resting upon it.
The Headmistress' throne was obviously empty, as she was approaching together with Celena, and there were two more vacant seats at the staff table, side by side – one is mine, of course, Celena realized – and who else is missing? There was a murmur of excitement as Professor McGonagall entered, Celena at her heels.

Professor McGonagall looked quite the same as ever at that type of feasts, in her tartan dress robes and her hair in a tight bun. Celena, however, now only was unfamiliar to the students, but now looked quite different from the pretty but simple woman she was an hour ago, when she emerged from Professor McGonagall's fireplace.

She wore a set of dress robes of fine indigo velvet, which clung tightly to her slender waist but left her neck open, strikingly white against the dark velvet, a magnificent dove-egg sized sapphire on a fine golden chain resting upon it. Matching sapphire earrings, a family heirloom, adorned her ears, and her glittering, sharp heels carried her forward with a grace unexpected of the schoolgirl she resembled not long ago. She took off her gloves, so that her white arms were shown in all their beauty against her dark robes. Her hair was let out of its plain knot and now gleamed in sleek chestnut waves that fell almost to her knees.

She walked between the tables, smiling slightly, across the Hall. On to the staff table she went, and stared at the two vacant chairs. She was sure the one next to Professor McGonagall was meant for someone more important, so instead she sat two seats apart, between the empty chair and a tiny wizard whose feet didn't quite reach the floor, and who gave her a friendly, encouraging nod. Snape was sitting on Professor McGonagall's other side, wearing his usual black robes and a sour expression.

The moment they took their seats, the doors of the Great Hall burst open, and a group of terrified-looking first-years shuffled in, followed by a figure of a man who was about three times as tall as any of them, with a tangle of hair and beard that looked positively alarming to a stranger. Celena, however, beamed and waved.

- Hi, Hagrid! – she called, beside herself with excitement that the empty chair by her side will soon be occupied by the big, friendly man she has come to know and like through Uncle Remus. He waved an enormous grubby hand in return and grinned. They have met several times before, when Hagrid visited her uncle, and grew quite fond of each other. Professor Flitwick, the tiny wizard on Celena's right, wasn't a complete stranger either – she remembered him from Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was encouraging to be surrounded by familiar faces, she thought. She didn't have much time to ponder this, though, because all of a sudden, a brim at the side of the old hat opened like a mouth and it burst into song – Celena gave a small jump and squeak in her chair, but it looked as though everyone else were expecting it to happen. There was scattered applause around the Hall, and then everyone went silent, to hear better the words of the Sorting Hat.

When Hogwarts freshly founded stood,
When teaching only started,
Four friends were joined by brotherhood,
Thought never to be parted.
Great Gryffindor, he taught those who
Were brave, with hearts of fire,
Wise Ravenclaw, she took those who
For knowledge had desire;
Good Hufflepuff, she taught all those
Who said it was their wishin' –
And Slytherin, he seeked pure blood
And merciless ambition.
You know it all, they fell apart,
Without a further mention;
And never since been wizardkind
Free of this burning question:
Which House do I belong to? Well,
If only that – I'll tell you,
But it's with greatest pain I do
Divide you and expel you
From all the rest of Houses, for
The danger's not yet parted –
We should be vigilant and more
Befriended and united!

The Hall was silent for a moment after the Hat had finished its song, and then everyone broke into applause. Celena clapped more enthusiastically than anybody, perhaps because it was the first Sorting she witnessed. She heard of the Sorting Hat from her uncle, of course, but she never imagined it actually reciting self-made poems.
- Not at all up to its usual standard, not at all! – squeaked the little Professor Flitwick on her side. – Short, and some vague warnings again!

In the meantime, Hagrid was rising to occupy the last free chair at the staff table, and everyone's attention was fixed upon the first-years, who looked, if possible, even more frightened. The Headmistress addressed them loudly and clearly, but it still seemed as though at least some of them weren't taking in a word of what she was saying:
- The task you need to perform in order to find out which of the four Houses you belong to is really quite simple. All you need to do is sit down on the stool and try the Hat on when your name is called out. The Hat will then tell which house you are to go in, and you will join the appropriate table.

She pulled out a roll of parchment from the inside of her robes, straightened her spectacles and read out the first name:
- Allenby, Allan!
A thin, blond boy wrenched himself out of the crowd and walked shakily towards the stool. He took the Sorting Hat in his hands, sat down and placed it on top of his head. The Hat easily fell over his ears, covering half his small face. There was a moment of silence, and then the Hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
There was loud cheering and applause at the Hufflepuff table when Alan, blushing and light-headed with relief of having it gone so smoothly, went to join them.
- Atkins, Elizabeth!
A pretty girl with a long plait approached the stool much more confidently. The Hat didn't pause this time; the moment it touched her head, it roared, "Gryffindor!"; there was an uproar at the Gryffindor table as Elizabeth went to sit with them.
Professor McGonagall continued reading. "Buckery, Eve"; "Dragonfly, Simon"; "Lloyd, Linda"; "Manson, Henry"; "O'Railey, Rose". Some students tried to approach the stool casually. Others didn't attempt to conceal their apprehensiveness. "Tanner, Daniel" dropped the Hat twice before finally managing to put it on his head and being sorted into Ravenclaw (Professor Flitwick clapped loudly), and "Zorinsky, Natalie" tripped over the stool before becoming a Slytherin.

She was the last, however. Professor McGonagall then stood up, and all was quiet again.
- I welcome our students and staff members to another year of magical education at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, - she began, and silence fell around the Hall, punctured only occasionally by excited whispers. – There are some things to be said and announcements to be made, but according to the tradition set by Professor Dumbledore, it can all wait until after we have enjoyed this splendid feast.

There was a wave of murmurs at the mention of Dumbledore's name, but it soon was extinguished as the plates and jugs filled themselves with everything an excited and hungry person might wish for.
- Excellent, I'm starving, - said Celena, drowning her roast potatoes in gravy and adding salad to her plate. Hagrid nodded approvingly, tapping a dozen chicken legs onto his plate and tearing a huge chunk off one of them with his teeth.
- Have some shepherd's pie, Miss Costello – I mean, Professor Costello, - said Professor Flitwick, smiling.

Over the clunking of knives and forks, talking was very comfortable. Celena was introduced to several of the other teachers, most of whom seemed very nice, especially Pomona Sprout, the cheery little witch who taught Herbology, and Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher.
Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher, seemed to have taken a particular liking to Celena, and was talking to her in a soft, mystical voice:

- My Inner Eye sees pangs of love inflicted upon your pretty features, dear, by a handsome but treacherous man, - she said confidently.
- Quite the contrary, - Celena tried to refrain from laughing. – I got engaged recently, and next summer you might just be invited to my wedding -
Professor Trelawney looked rather taken aback, but fortunately, a diversion came in form of Hagrid who chocked on a huge bit of chicken. Celena and Professor McGonagall started clapping him on the back, which seemed to make little effect. Finally, after two painful minutes in which his face had gone beet red, Hagrid sat straight again, clutching his throat and wiping tears out of his eyes.

- Bin out in the grounds all day, - he croaked. – Las'-minute preparations, see… tha's why I'm so hungry now – need more ale fer washin' it all down – why don't you pass me that flagon, Celena, that's a good lass.
- Here, have some bread with that, Hagrid, - Celena said kindly and reached for a plate of rolls to pass him.
Finally, everybody felt full to burst, and the clinking of silverware was getting duller. All the food had vanished from the plates, leaving them empty, gleaming and clean for a second, to be filled the next moments with pies, tarts, puddings, éclairs and ice-cream of every flavor one could possibly imagine.

Celena helped herself eagerly to about ten different flavors of ice-cream at once. She then looked into her plate, as if contemplating it, biting her lip in concentration – and all of a sudden, the gigantic portion of ice-cream was covered with a mound of whipped cream with a cherry on top. Then she grabbed a spoon and started eating; Hagrid looked amused, not noticing there were flecks of white whipped cream above his bushy eyebrows. He was tucking into a delicious-looking treacle tart; Professor Flitwick was delicately eating a chocolate éclair; Professor McGonagall managed a third helping of strawberry pie, and only Snape hadn't eaten any pudding at all.

- Hagrid, is there anything at all wrong with this man? – Celena whispered, gesturing discreetly towards Professor Snape and trying to sound casual.
- Nah, - Hagrid replied cheerfully, - He always looks as though he was jus' made ter eat dung.
When everyone ate as much pudding as they could, the plates and goblets emptied and Professor McGonagall stood up. The chattering and laughter died out in an instant, and every face was turned towards her, apprehensive. It was obvious that she was a woman of great inner power, used to be listened to when she talks, very confident. She might not have glory of the former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, but beyond a doubt, she was respected by the students and staff members, and at the moment, had everybody's full attention.

- Now that we all ate and drank, I would like to open this term with a couple of words. The war is over, and I am happy to tell you that parents aren't afraid anymore to send their children Hogwarts, where young witches and wizards receive the finest magical education.
There was scattered applause, but McGonagall raised a hand and it stopped immediately.
- I must remind you, however, that these are the first steps of shaky peace after a long and exhausting war, the outcome of which was unclear until its very end. We must remember many of the supporters of He Who Must Not Be Named haven't been caught – or, as I am sorry to admit, even discovered. It is our duty, therefore, to maintain – like Alastor Moody used to say – constant vigilance. They cannot bring Him Who Must Not Be Named back, but they may still plot, and scheme, and seek revenge. We ought to hold on to each other, and take care of each other, more than ever. We owe it to the memory of Professor Dumbledore, and many other fine, noble people who should have been enjoying the end of war with us.

Once more, a murmur ran around the Hall and people whispered and nodded.
- I must therefore remind our new and old students that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, and no student is to leave the grounds to visit Hogsmeade without the permission of a parent or guardian. Students below third year aren't allowed into Hogsmeade at all.
A few students looked crestfallen. A second-year girl whispered in her neighbor: "I hoped she might forget to say that!"

- I must also remind you that no magic is allowed in corridors between classes. Dark objects are of course banned, as are more products of Zonko's, including Fanged Frisbees, Exploding Yo-yos and three-hundred and twenty six other objects, the detailed list of which can be found on the door inside of Mr. Filch's office, where you can browse it at your leisure.
There were a few giggles no one really bothered to hide. Not paying attention to that, Professor McGonagall continued:
- This year, the ranks of our teachers underwent some changes. First, our Deputy Headmaster and Master of Potions until last year, Professor Snape, will not be teaching Potions anymore, but takes instead the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Snape looked very pleased with himself. He waved to the cheering Slytherins and straightened the front of his robes.

- The Potions Master position will instead be occupied by Professor Celena Costello, who will, I am sure, draw a splendid performance.
The clapping and cheering grew louder, and it didn't issue only from the Slytherin table this time; encouraged, Celena beamed and waved at the students.
- And the final, and most important notice: since I have now taken the chair of Headmistress of Hogwarts, it is impossible for me to continue being Head of Gryffindor house at the same time. It is with greatest pain, therefore, that I renounce being Head of House –

Professor McGonagall's words were drowned in indignant exclamations from the Gryffindor table; most of the students were white with shock, some still sitting down and mouthing speechlessly, positively outraged, some of them on their feet, shouting something heatedly.
- The Head of Gryffindor house, - continued Professor McGonagall very loudly, over all the tumult. - Will be no other than our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Rubeus Hagrid, who accepted this difficult and challenging task in addition to his teacher and gamekeeper duties.
For a second, there was ringing silence. The Gryffindors simply stood or sat, whatever position Professor McGonagall's words caught them in, looking at each other, comprehension slowly dawning upon their faces. And then, the red and gold table erupted in such an uproar of applause that the windows rattled. Hagrid, absolutely beside himself with delight, waved at the students, fat tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and disappearing in his tangled beard.
- Well done, Hagrid! – beamed Celena.

Hagrid's new job was, of course, settled in advance between him and Professor McGonagall, and even Celena knew about it from Uncle Remus. But hearing the words spoken out loud in front of all the students created such an overwhelming load of happiness Hagrid could hardly handle it.
- Can' believe it, - he croaked, wiping his tears on his sleeve and knocking Professor Flitwick out of his chair with an accidental shove of an enormous elbow. Professor Flitwick toppled out of view, reappearing from under the table a second later, looking cheerful nevertheless.

- Congratulations, Hagrid! – He squeaked.
In the meantime, Professor McGonagall continued talking:
- Quidditch trials will be held at the second week of term, so those of you who are interested should apply promptly. Classes begin tomorrow morning, at half past eight. And now, I believe it is high time we all went to bed. Off you go!

Deafening screeching and scraping of benches followed as hundreds of well-fed, excited and tired students hurried off to their dormitories. The teachers followed in a dignified, slow walk.
- Lemme take you to yer office, Celena, - said Hagrid. – I believe 'tis on the seventh floor, and you don't know the castle too well.
Celena accepted the offer gratefully. Hogwarts seemed much bigger than the Beauxbatons castle, and not so well-planned, as if some parts of it were added later than others – which, she reminded herself, they probably were.

And so she let Hagrid lead her, upstairs, through many corridors and shortcuts, past many pictures, statues and suits of armor, looking around and trying to memorize the way.
They couldn't be far now, Celena thought, panting, as she ascended landing after landing. Apparition was impossible inside the castle and grounds – a reasonable safety measure that has proved itself more than once – but it didn't make the task of getting from the ground floor to the seventh floor any easier.

And then, all of a sudden, the strangest thing happened – Celena and Hagrid both collapsed in a heap on the floor. For a second, Celena thought they must have missed one of those trick stairs that could be encountered so often on the many stairways of Hogwarts. But then she realized the carpet was simply snatched from under their feet – by a round little man hovering in mid-air, wearing a ludicrous orange bow-tie.

- Peeves! – roared Hagrid in indignation, getting up to his feet after what seemed like a small earthquake. – You wait; I'm going ter call Filch and he'll have you this time, fer playin' tricks on two teachers.
The expression that spread across Peeves' malevolent face was, if anything, of delight.
- Tut, tut, is that a teacher? I thought it was a wee student, lost and alone…
- The Bloody Baron is around the corner, you wretched poltergeist!

Celena was yet to meet the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's ghost, silent, gaunt and frightening, covered in stains of silver blood. He always stood apart from the other ghosts and was, indeed, the only one who could frighten Peeves, the havoc-loving poltergeist. Now, however, Peeves did not seem impressed; he merely made a very rude hand-gesture and departed, cackling.
- I wonder why, - mused Celena, looking bewildered and trying to straighten her hair, - a poltergeist is allowed here?
Hagrid shrugged. Fortunately, Celena's office and quarters were right behind the corner, and when they reached it, they bid each other good night and Hagrid departed.

When she entered her office, Celena first gasped, then "oohed", then grinned. It was no longer the dingy, grey room she left only two hours ago. The desk gleamed with cleanliness; all of her possessions were unpacked, the books stood neatly upon the many shelves, together with moving photographs of her parents, Uncle Remus, Dora and her little cousin Teddy. Lenvik was sitting on a cushion in an armchair behind the desk, purring loudly. The doors to the tiny bedroom and bathroom were left open, and Celena could see her robes, folded neatly on top of the spotless bedcovers. The windows were draped in silky, flowery curtains, and the bathroom gave off a fresh scent. Fire as blazing merrily in the grate, and a furry little carpet lay in front of it. Celena gave a great sigh of contentment and sank onto it, wanting to snatch a few peaceful moments by the fire before going to sleep – or rather, she attempted to sit; while she did so, she realized someone was already sitting there, curled up in front of the fire and snoring loudly. Celena gave a stifled cry of surprised, but then saw it was merely a house-elf. Just as she registered it, the elf woke with a start.

- Oh, Miss! – It cried in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, rubbing its enormous, tennis-ball-sized green eyes. – You must be Professor Celena Costello, Miss! Dobby is cleaning your office for you, Miss, while you is downstairs at the feast, but Dobby is alone, because a the other house-elves are in the kitchens, Miss, and there was a lot of work to do, and Dobby is tired, so he falls asleep in front of the fire without noticing , Miss! Dobby mustn't have let this happen, Miss, and begs you to forgive him!

- That's quite alright, - said Celena, rather taken aback by this speech, and eyed the elf, astonished. His appearance was nothing short of bizarre – he wore a maroon jumper on top of checked shorts, at least half a dozen woolly hats on top of his bat-like ears, and odd socks – one was bright red, the other covered in white and orange striped. But the mismatched garments weren't what startled her.

- You're wearing clothes! – She exclaimed. – Real clothes!
Celena's parents, of course, never owned an elf – there was no need to, in the small, crammed apartment above "Costello Concoctions", but she knew elves never wore actual garments of clothing – rather, they draped themselves in towels or pillowcases; presenting a house-elf with clothes would mean breaking the magical bond between the elf and the family, and setting it free.

- Dobby is a free elf, Miss! – The elf squeaked proudly, rolling out a hairy chest. – He gets paid for his work in Hogwarts, Miss, and gets days off, and chooses who to obey! Dobby was employed by Professor Dumbledore –
And as he said it, his enormous eyes filled with tears and his lower lip trembled.
It now registered in Celena's mind that this story was, in fact, oddly familiar, as if someone told is to her a long time ago. She only thought of it vaguely, though, anxiously looking around for something she could offer to comfort the elf. Being unable to think of anything, she bent and patted the elf on the back.

- Thank you for the excellent work, Dobby, - she said kindly. – The place is unrecognizable. I knew Professor Dumbledore a little. He was a great man. Would you like, perhaps, to sit down and rest a bit?
- Oh, you is very kind, Miss Costello! – Said Dobby, his lamp-like eyes now positively brimming with tears. – But Dobby would much rather go to his bed in the room near the kitchens, Miss, and have some sleep, and Dobby was too busy to have any dinner yet, Miss!
- Alright then, Dobby, off you go to the kitchens, and don't forget to grab a bite to eat!
- You are fair and good, Miss Costello! – the elf spoke, making her turn crimson. – If Miss ever needs anything, she can just call Dobby, and Dobby will come and do whatever he can!
And with a loud "crack", he disappeared.

When Celena finally took off her clothes and went to bed, she found a box of mints under her pillow, and a stack of neatly folded handkerchiefs, each one bearing a Hogwarts crest – a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake forming the letter "H".