Chapter 6 — The Sorting
"What is going on here?!"
McGonagall swept into the antechamber with that sharp exclamation, took in the scene, and fixed her gaze on Weasley.
"Mr Weasley, what on earth has happened to you?"
A faint distaste had crept into the stern Head of House's voice. She was plainly not enjoying the sight of her prospective student.
"It was that Death Eater's spawn!"
He thrust a finger in my direction.
I frowned. The boy had learned nothing.
"Professor McGonagall, I would like to address you in your capacity as a representative of Hogwarts' administration and formally notify you..."
My voice was entirely cold and formal, and the children fell quiet.
"...this member of the Weasley family has now insulted my family for the second time, and I, as the sole male of that family, will be compelled, should it happen a third time, to challenge him to a duel. And believe me, neither Mr Weasley, nor his family, nor you as a representative of this school's administration will be pleased with the outcome of that duel. I therefore request that appropriate measures be taken to ensure that this particular redhead learns to hold his tongue."
"Mr... Black..."
McGonagall studied me carefully.
"...so it was you who left Mr Weasley in this condition?"
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"His condition is the result of his own tongue, and I believe everyone present -- including his newfound friend -- will confirm that the insult to my family came first, and that I only acted afterwards. And I assure you, neither docking points nor the threat of expulsion will stop me from defending the honour of my family."
"Well, some family that is--"
I narrowed my eyes slightly, and McGonagall understood what was about to happen and cast a Silencing Charm on Weasley before he could finish.
"I take it the previous incident followed much the same pattern?"
She looked around at those present.
"Yes, Professor."
Hermione stepped forward, but Daphne placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her from saying more.
"Miss Granger..."
"Yes, Professor."
After a brief nod from Daphne, she answered the professor.
"Hmm... Very well. Is there anyone else who can confirm that Mr Black was not the instigator?"
"Ahem..."
This was the last thing I had expected -- the attention of the wizarding world's hero was drawn by a quiet, very uncertain little cough.
"Yes, Mr...?"
"Potter..."
Harry adjusted his tie with an awkward hand.
"Mr Potter... did you have something to say?"
"Um... yes."
He nodded, then cast an apologetic look at Weasley.
"Ron, he just pointed Mr Black out to me and said he was... a Death Eater."
At these words from Potter, McGonagall's eyes widened in shock.
"After that Mr Black intervened, and then Ron simply mentioned that his relatives had served Vo--"
The children gasped, and the professor gave only the faintest of flinches, her expression betraying nothing further.
"--after that is when he went for Ron."
"Mr Black?"
"That is all true, though not the whole truth..."
I shrugged.
"...Mr Potter, the next time you consider withholding important information, you would do well to remember that you are in the wizarding world. There is a rather interesting artefact here called a Pensieve, into which one may place memories for others to view; there is also a spell by which one may read the mind of a sentient being; and then there is that curious little thing known as Veritaserum."
With each word, Harry's eyes grew wider and wider.
"As for what Mr Potter said -- he omitted the fact that after Weasley's baseless accusations I first asked him to apologise. He also made some vague accusation against my relatives, claiming they had served You-Know-Who; I merely pointed out that they had been accused of this, but were fully exonerated. And then... then came the words I would prefer not to repeat here -- though he obligingly repeated them again just now..."
McGonagall's eyes narrowed in displeasure.
"...and it was those words that compelled me to act somewhat more... decisively."
I made a visible wince, and McGonagall turned her gaze from me to Potter.
"Mr Potter -- is that accurate?"
"Well..."
The boy looked away.
"Mr Potter?"
"Yes..."
He was obliged to admit it. And in doing so he earned himself a look of pure hatred from his new friend, who tried once again to say something, then immediately remembered that the Silencing Charm was still in place.
"Mr Weasley... I am very disappointed in you."
McGonagall shook her head.
"Unfortunately I cannot assign you a punishment as you have not yet been sorted into a House. However, I will say that I would most certainly not wish to see you in mine. But if by some miracle you do end up there, I will ensure you have extra Etiquette lessons, so that you have no free time left over for incidents of this kind."
She exhaled slowly and turned to me.
"Mr Black, I understand your frustration. Nevertheless, I do ask that you try to avoid resolving conflicts by these methods."
"Professor, I am not a particularly confrontational person -- I genuinely do not care what anyone calls me. But if the honour of any witch who belongs to my House is involved, or if I simply witness someone insulting a girl -- whether she is a pureblood or a Muggle-born -- I will not stand aside."
McGonagall sighed.
"I take your point..."
A wave of her wand and Weasley was standing clean again.
"...now then. Let us proceed to the Hall and conduct your Sorting."
We were led into the Great Hall, where four long House tables stood, with the considerably shorter staff table running perpendicular to them at the far end. The Heads of House sat opposite their respective tables. Dumbledore was seated in the centre.
"I will call your names one by one. You will approach this stool, and I shall lower the Sorting Hat onto your head. The Hat will determine which House you will call home for the years ahead."
McGonagall walked to the stool, took the list in one hand and lifted the pointed hat from the stool with the other, and began to read. Interestingly, the list was clearly not arranged alphabetically. This did not particularly concern me. I simply stood and gazed thoughtfully up at the ceiling.
"Is that...?"
But Hermi was unable to finish, as Daphne's hand settled on her shoulder and stopped her.
"Black, Draco."
When my name was called I walked towards the stool with complete composure and my head held high, settled onto it, and felt the Hat descend over my head.
"Hmm... A difficult choice... Very difficult indeed..."
The Hat spoke slowly and paused often to think in silence.
"Brave enough -- brave enough to strike the one who insulted your family. Godric would have approved of that."
I smiled inwardly.
"Loyalty -- you have few true friends, but yes... for that girl who was placed in your care, you would move mountains. Finding friends does not come easily to you, but... Yes. Helga would have welcomed you into her House."
I barely held back a quiet, sceptical snort.
"I can see your thoughts, young Black -- but even when the curricula differed, a student's character always carried significant weight in the Sorting. A House is, after all, the home one lives in -- and nothing has ever prevented a student from attending classes in another House's rooms."
That genuinely surprised me.
"Though it did happen very rarely... Yes..."
The Hat fell silent again.
"Knowledge -- you are quite simply obsessed with it. I have not seen a study regimen like yours in a very long time, even accounting for your particular circumstances..."
I tensed slightly.
"Do not worry. Everything I see remains with me. No one will ever have access to this information."
The Hat's words were somewhat reassuring.
"Rowena would have approved of such a hunger for knowledge."
Another brief silence, and the Hat continued.
"Cunning -- yes, you have it, as well as the knowledge of how to play long games -- but you do not enjoy doing so. Knowledge alone is admirable, of course, but Salazar would not have been entirely pleased to have you in his House. So we have three Houses to choose from..."
"If I may be permitted a preference..."
I ventured to address the Hat.
"And what is it that you want?"
"More precisely -- what I would not want is to end up in Gryffindor."
"Are you certain? You could find followers there. Even without any desire to play at politics, you would rise to the top of that House very quickly."
"Power? It does not interest me greatly. Far too much responsibility."
"Very well -- so it comes down to Helga's House or Rowena's, does it?"
The Hat's voice was thoughtful.
"If you truly cannot decide, I can tell you that not long ago I mentioned to the esteemed Helena that I would prefer to study in her House."
"Hmm... I see no reason why not."
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Hat's proclamation rang in my ears.
"Good luck, young Raven -- and if your plan succeeds, I shall be glad of it."
The Hat's voice had shifted on that last line -- it sounded distinctly more feminine -- but I could not understand why, and I had no opportunity to ask, as it was lifted from my head.
I rose from the stool, noticed that my robes had acquired the colours and crest of my new House, and walked to my table with complete composure. The applause that greeted me was rather subdued -- the students of the clever House preferred quiet conversation among themselves to watching the arrivals.
Before long Hermione was called, and after sitting under the Hat for a couple of minutes she too was sent to Ravenclaw. That surprised me, I will admit -- after my explanations on the train I had expected her to go to Hufflepuff. Though it was quite possible that the reason she ended up in this House was me, or perhaps Daphne. As far as I knew, she had had no friends before Hogwarts.
"May I sit here?"
Hermione looked at me with a touch of uncertainty.
"Please..."
I gestured to the seat beside me and she sat down with a happy smile.
Soon Daphne appeared at my side, wearing her standard school uniform, which looked rather unusual on her -- I was so accustomed to seeing her in her attendant's dress.
"My lord."
She gave me a brief nod, and at my gesture took the seat beside me.
"I am glad you decided to join me."
"There was never any other possibility."
She kept her composure, showing the world a face entirely devoid of emotion -- but in the depths of her eyes I could easily read the quiet pleasure at having ended up in the same House as me. Until the very last moment, neither of us had been entirely certain that it would work out.
"Traitor!"
The shout cut across the Sorting. A moment later a gap opened up in the cluster of first-years still waiting to be sorted, and it was plain that someone was hitting someone in the middle of it.
"That is enough!"
Flitwick reacted first, sending several binding jets into the brawlers simultaneously.
"Thank you, Professor Flitwick."
McGonagall gave her colleague a grateful nod, then set the Hat carefully back on the stool, rolled up her list, and drew her wand.
"Mr and Mr Weasley..."
The professor's gaze travelled to her own House table, and the moment she spoke those words the twins rose from their seats.
"Why are we always the first suspects?!"
This they said in perfect unison.
"Oh no -- I was not suggesting the fault lies with you. I simply wished to offer you my apologies. I had previously considered you the most irresponsible students of your generation -- but now..."
The professor shook her head.
"...your younger brother has surpassed you. You at least make some effort to keep within the bounds of a prank, even if sometimes a rather cruel one. But he... I shall be raising the question of expelling your younger brother at the very first staff meeting."
"Minerva, don't you think that is somewhat harsh?"
Dumbledore attempted to intervene.
"Not in the least..."
She shook her head.
"...but I shall set out all the details at the meeting. For now, I propose we sort Mr Weasley and send him to his table."
A flick of the wand and Weasley flew towards the stool; the binding was lifted from him.
"Mr Weasley, take your seat..."
After McGonagall raised the Hat and Weasley settled onto the stool, it was placed on his head.
"Recklessness and bravado? Well then -- Gryffindor for you."
The boy got to his feet beaming, and utterly failing to notice that the House had received the Hat's remark with something far short of enthusiasm, made his way towards his new table...