Chapitre 8: The Sorting Ceremony
Charles Gaunt POV
When the scarlet steam engine stopped to a halt, Charles led the girls off of their carriage. Due to the now darkened sky, it was hard to see around the platform. Students continued bumping into one another as more and more of them of the train. Soon enough the group found themselves shuffled back, until they reached a barricade of some sort.
It was colder now that he was outside, and Charles played with played with the vapour of his breath, attempting to distract himself from his body's subtle shivers. He had always been sensitive to changes in temperature and turned his head to where he felt a heat approaching.
A lamp floated high above the students heads, giving the platform some much needed light. On closer inspection, Charles saw a man's hand holding it up. If that were all, then he wouldn't have even batted an eye, but the problem was that this man was more than twice the size of anyone else here.
The giant man's voice came bellowing out "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
Emily, Fay, Lavender and Isobel all seemed similarly stunned when they took notice of the man, which gave Charles a little comfort.
The giant spoke again, "C'mon, follow me – anymore firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow!"
It was clearly his job to escort them to the school grounds and so Charles followed him as he had asked. Charles assumed they were in a woods as he could see the outline of trees as they walked through the dark. They soon entered a clearing with a black lake which reflected the moon. However, what caught everyone's eyes was not the eerie looking waters, but rather a vast castle, with many turrets and towers, that stood upon a high mountain across it.
"Look at it!"
It was certainly impressive, but Charles was starting to get used to these unbelievable sights and didn't let his jaw drop. It was the right choice. He could see Draco Malfoy sneering at anyone with a shocked or amazed face.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called pointing to a collection of small boats siting by the shore. There weren't any paddles nearby, which meant they wouldn't need them Charles noted.
'Still, four to a boat?' Charles looked at his group. 'Five of us. Time to go I guess.' He would them all share, while he escaped to another. He looked for Harry and Ron, hopeful. Unfortunately when he spotted them, they were already sat in a little boat, Hermione and Neville beside them.
He continued looking. 'Ah, there's Malfoy… never mind.' Charles considered siting with him but his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, were with him and they took up enough space for three by themselves. In the end he settled for a boat near the end. The two boys gave him an annoyed look but stayed silent as he stepped on.
'Were they waiting for someone? Or did they just want a boat for themselves? Whatever, who cares.' Charles sat down and dipped his hand into the lake, it was freezing.
"Hey Draco." Someone tapped his shoulder. "I haven't seen you since your birthday celebration."
Charles snapped his hand back from the water, splashing on of the boys onboard. It wasn't one of them who had tapped him though. It was a girl with dark hair and a small flat nose. He looked at her confused.
"Pansy you idiot, that's not Draco," the boy who got splashed let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his wet hair.
She looked panicked, "But I thought…?" Pansy stared Charles up and down and groaned when she realised. "Ugh! I only got on because –!" she cut herself off, nearly revealing too much.
The wet boy clenched his heart dramatically, "You hurt me, Pansy. And here I believed you wanted to sit with Blaise and I. to think we were just second thoughts to you… it hurts too much."
Despite how obvious it was that he was only joking around, Pansy seemed to think his pain was real and she jumped up to apologise, nearly in tears. Seeing that the boy was enjoying himself too much, he was pretending to be about to jump into the lake, the other boy spoke.
"Pansy he's messing with you," the one called Blaise moved to push his 'crying' friend off the boat.
"Oi, oi, Blaise! Stop it," he panicked, "I'm going to fall!"
When Blaise relented, the boy let out a breath of relief. However it was a moment to soon as Pansy tried to push him off. "Stupid Theo. Hmph! I'm getting off."
But it was too late, the boats had started moving away from the shore as Hagrid shouted, "Forward!"
She sat back down and glared at Charles as if he were to blame. 'This girl is crazy!'
Charles ignored her angry stares as the boat sailed across the lake. He glanced at the scenery as they moved and ducked his head as they approached a cliff and went through a curtain of ivy. They were led along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them beneath the castle. They arrived at a kind of underground harbour and stumbled out of their little boats onto a floor of rocks and pebbles.
They clambered up the stairwell in the rock wall, after the giant found Neville's toad, and soon arrived outside the huge oak front doors of the castle. After checking if everyone was there, the bearded man knocked three times and the doors swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch dressed in emerald-green robes.
'Professor McGonagall?'
"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall."
"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here," said the stern woman. She pulled the doors open wider and stepped aside, gesturing for the new students to enter. Inside was an enormous Entrance Hall, with flame torches lined up along the tall walls, lighting the area up.
Professor McGonagall walked and they followed her across flagged stone floor. They passed outside a closed wooden door where, Charles could hear muffled voices behind.
'The older students must already be in there.'
The Professor ended their journey inside a small chamber and turned to speak to them, "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The start-of-term banquet will be beginning shortly, but before you take a seat, 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 your house, sleep in your houses dormitory and spend your free time in your house common room."
She scanned over them all, making sure they were following along. She continued, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has their own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, and any rule breaking will lose your house points. At the end of the year the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour. 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. So I suggest you smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait."
The Professor then told them to wait quietly and left the chamber. Charles could see Harry and Ron talking, but couldn't hear them as they were whispering. He fixed his hair, making sure his fringe covered his dark eyes and checked over his uniform. 'Looks good enough. How are they going to sort us, maybe a test?'
Charles was suddenly overcome with a strange feeling of uncomfortableness. He shivered and then looked around reflexively because just as quickly as the strange feeling came, it was gone. It only took a moment for him to understand what had happened as all across the room, pearly white and transparent figures flew about.
'Ghosts?! It went through me!' he didn't like how that had felt and swore that he wouldn't let it happen again. The floating figure were talking to each other, not noticing them.
"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance – "
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are all of you doing here?" the ghost had finally noticed them.
The fat and bald ghost named Friar answered for them with a smile, "New students, I presume. About to be sorted?" when a few of them nodded he added on, "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."
"Move along now!" came a sharp voice, Professor McGonagall had returned, "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin." The ghost flew away one by one, and the students were made to form a line as they followed the Professor.
Charles couldn't help but feel nervous as they walked, but he kept his calm, not wanting to embarrass himself by panicking. Something which Neville appeared to specialise in. Neville's face was pink and sweating, not to mention he was still holding his toad. Charles hoped the boy would be able to keep it together when the sorting began.
Professor McGonagall led them out of the chamber, across the Entrance Hall and through the closed
wooden door that Charles had previously heard the voices behind. When the doors were pushed open, the Great Hall came into view. The Hall was lit by thousands of candles that floated high underneath the ceiling which looked like the night sky. The hundreds of older students sat on four long tables that stretched across the hall, each table having uniforms with different colours.
At the end of the hall was another long table that sided opposite way, where the teachers sat.
Professor McGonagall led there to there where they then waited under the watchful eyes of the older students as she placed a large pointed hat on top of a short wooden stool. When she stepped aside, the first-years watched as the hat twitched and slowly came to life. A rip near the brim opened up in the shape of a mouth and the hat 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!"
-
The hat had a gruff but bright voice that wasn't designed for singing but that didn't stop the entire hall from clapping widely. Charles joined in, thinking it the polite thing to do.
'So the hat decides our houses, that's surprisingly simple. Can't they hurry this up though.' Charles didn't care about whichever house they put him in and was more interested in the banquet the Professor had mentioned. His stomach rumbled.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall said, unrolling a yellow parchment. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A girl with blonde pigtails and a pink face stumbled nervously out of the line. When the hat was placed on her head, its face made of creases hummed as the hall looked on silently. A moment passed before the hat called out its decision, "HUFFLEPUFF!" it said and a table to the right cheered and clapped. The fat ghost, Friar, was also clapping, though no sound was made.
The girl was made to join that table and soon it was the next person's turn. "Bones, Susan!" another Hufflepuff, "Boot, Terry!" a Ravenclaw. A girl named Mandy went to Ravenclaw and then it was Lavender's turn and when she became the first Gryffindor, the house's table erupted with cheers, much louder than the previous houses.
Several boys and girls went up to be sorted, Millicent Bullstrode being the first Slytherin and Justin Finch-Fletchley was the first boy to be sent to Hufflepuff. During this time Emily was sorted into Gryffindor after the hat sat on her head for half a minute.
The names were being called in alphabetical order and Charles knew it would soon be his turn to go up.
Seamus Finnigan sat on the stool for a whole minute before being sent to Gryffindor and Charles wondered why it sometimes it only took the hat seconds to decide the house for some, whilst others took much longer. He didn't have much time to deliberate over this, however, as it was now his name being called.
"Gaunt, Charles!" The Hall was silent as Professor McGonagall called his name. previously the people on the tables had been mumbling to each other, talking which house would the next student be sorted into, rumours and their summer ventures. They spoke quietly, but still, Charles could hear them. But those voices were silent now, and Charles felt a multitude of gaze staring daggers into him. Not understanding why, he assumed it to be because of his intimidating appearance. He remembered his younger days, the times when other children would cry just because he looked their way.
No matter what the reason was, Charles didn't care. He strode up to the stool unbothered by the strange looks being sent his way by both the teachers and students.
'I guess even if I cover my eyes, I'm still scary,' Charles thought dejectedly. Through his hair, he made eye contact with the woman who introduced him to this world. He noticed her pity, and though he didn't like it, he smiled at her and sat neatly on the stool.
As he waited for the hat to be put on his head, he scanned the room, trying to decipher the occupants faces. Something was wrong. He had expected to see faces full of fright and cowardice but was instead met by confusion and intrigue. One of the teachers, an ancient man with long white hair and a beard the same colour that dropped all the way to his knees, was looking at him with an especially odd look behind his half-moon glasses. The old man saw his glances and gave him a friendly wave.
Charles looked over his fellow first-years who had yet to be sorted. Harry and Ron didn't appear to have the slightest clue, actually Harry looked like he throw up any second now. He wouldn't be able to gain anything from looking at them, so he lost interest.
A second or two after he sat down, the sorting hat was placed on his head, covering the top half of his face and over his eyes. The hat spoke in his mind, making Charles almost jump in surprise, 'Ohh? Well this is a surprise.' Charles wondered what he meant and so he questioned the hat.
"What's a surprise?" Charles whispered.
The hat gave him no answer. "Hmm, I see… well it could only be, SLYTHERIN!" it shouted in its gruff voice.
After its decision, the hat was taken off and Charles was directed towards the Slytherin table. The table clapped the loudest they had, seemingly happy to welcome him, but the strange stares from the Hall remained. In fact, they were even worse and from the Slytherin table, Charles noticed both admiration and jealousy, what was going on?
Charles took an empty seat near the other first-years and when into thought, uninterested in the rest of the Sorting Ceremony. He had more important things to think about. Charles thought back to all the weird reactions he had been getting all day, on the train it was Fay Dunbar's group, now it was most of the school. He had originally thought his appearance was to blame, but now? That couldn't be the case. It didn't explain even half of the reactions he got. No, he was missing something. But what was it?
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone