Chapter 12
The castle was even bigger on the inside.
Which Harry hadn’t thought was possible.
The ceilings stretched endlessly overhead.
Portraits covered the walls.
Staircases moved.
Actually moved.
Harry stopped so suddenly that someone walked into his back.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”
Harry barely heard them.
The staircase had just changed direction.
Right in front of him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Harry looked beside him.
Ivy wasn’t staring at the staircase.
She was staring at a suit of armor that had just sneezed.
“I saw that.”
Harry sighed.
Of course she was.
⸻
The first years were led through hallways and corridors and doors until Harry completely lost track of where they were.
At some point he gave up trying to remember the route.
The castle clearly had no interest in being understood.
Eventually they stopped outside a pair of enormous wooden doors.
Everyone immediately grew quieter.
Even Ron.
Which was concerning.
The nervous energy returned.
Harry shifted slightly.
Around him, students whispered.
Some looked excited.
Others looked terrified.
A few looked like they might be sick.
Harry couldn’t blame them.
Nobody actually knew what the Sorting involved.
Only that it determined their House.
Whatever that meant.
Beside him, Ivy crossed her arms.
Thinking.
Harry recognized the look.
“Don’t.”
She looked at him.
“Don’t what?”
“Whatever you’re planning.”
“I’m not planning anything.”
“You are.”
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s usually worse.”
Ivy looked offended.
“Rude.”
Before Harry could answer, the doors opened.
⸻
The Great Hall was impossible.
There was no other word for it.
Impossible.
Hundreds of students filled four long tables.
Thousands of candles floated overhead.
And above them—
The ceiling wasn’t a ceiling.
It was the night sky.
Harry stared upward.
Stars stretched endlessly above them.
For a second he genuinely forgot to walk.
Then Ivy walked directly into him.
“Move.”
Harry stumbled forward.
“You’re the one behind me.”
“And you’re the one standing still.”
Fair.
⸻
The first years gathered at the front of the hall.
Every student seemed to be staring.
Harry suddenly understood why people hated public speaking.
A stool sat at the front.
On top of it rested a pointed old hat.
The hat looked ancient.
And slightly dirty.
Harry frowned.
That couldn’t be it.
Could it?
The hat suddenly split open near the brim.
And began singing.
Harry nearly jumped.
Around him, several first years did the same.
Ivy looked delighted.
The traitor.
⸻
The song ended.
The hall erupted into applause.
Harry still wasn’t entirely convinced the hat wasn’t possessed.
A witch with sharp features stepped forward.
“Professor McGonagall.”
Harry recognized her immediately from the letter.
She held a long scroll.
The hall grew quiet.
Very quiet.
Harry’s stomach dropped.
This was it.
⸻
“Abbott, Hannah.”
A girl stepped forward.
The hat touched her head.
A moment later—
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
Cheers exploded from one table.
The girl hurried away.
Another name was called.
Then another.
And another.
One by one, students crossed the hall.
One by one, they found their Houses.
Harry’s heart seemed determined to beat itself to death.
Then—
“Granger, Hermione.”
Hermione practically marched forward.
The hat barely touched her head.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Ron groaned.
“Brilliant,” Ivy muttered. “She’s never going to stop being right now.”
Harry laughed.
Hermione looked very pleased with herself.
⸻
More names.
More Houses.
More cheering.
Then—
“Malfoy, Draco.”
Harry looked up automatically.
Before he could stop himself.
The blond boy stepped forward.
Bathroom line.
The thought appeared instantly.
Harry hated that.
Draco sat down.
The hat touched his head.
There wasn’t even a pause.
“SLYTHERIN!”
The table on the far side of the hall erupted.
Draco stood.
And for some reason—
For some strange reason—
He glanced toward the first years.
Toward Harry.
Just for a second.
Then he turned away and joined the Slytherin table.
Harry looked down immediately.
Weird.
Very weird.
⸻
“Weasley, Ronald.”
Ron practically tripped over his own feet.
A minute later—
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The red-haired table erupted.
Ron looked relieved.
Very relieved.
Harry couldn’t blame him.
⸻
Then came:
“Potter, Ivy.”
The entire hall went silent.
Completely silent.
Harry blinked.
Then blinked again.
Why was nobody talking?
Ivy looked around.
“That’s unsettling.”
A few students laughed.
Professor McGonagall did not.
Ivy walked forward.
Head high.
Like hundreds of people weren’t staring.
Harry wished he had that kind of confidence.
The hat settled onto her head.
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Three.
The hat seemed to be talking for a long time.
Long enough that Harry began worrying.
Then finally—
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The hall exploded.
Ivy grinned.
The biggest grin Harry had ever seen.
She practically skipped toward the table.
Harry felt something in his chest loosen.
Good.
They weren’t separated.
Good.
⸻
Then—
“Potter, Harry.”
The silence returned.
Even worse this time.
Harry suddenly wished the floor would open and swallow him whole.
He walked forward.
Every eye in the room felt fixed on him.
He sat.
The hat dropped over his eyes.
Darkness.
Then a voice.
Interesting.
Harry froze.
Very interesting.
Not Slytherin, then?
Harry immediately thought of Draco sitting across the hall.
The voice hummed.
No.
Not Slytherin.
Harry wasn’t entirely sure why, but he felt relieved.
Ah.
The voice sounded amused.
Better be—
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The hall erupted around him.
Harry pulled off the hat.
Cheers echoed through the room.
He barely heard them.
Because Ivy was already standing on the bench waving at him like a maniac.
“Harry!”
Professor McGonagall looked horrified.
Harry laughed despite himself.
And as he hurried toward the Gryffindor table—
He missed the brief glance from across the hall.
The one from the Slytherin table.
The one with grey eyes.
Watching him go.