CHAPTER 2 - The Sorting Ceremony

“Is the book list complete?” Matilda asked, hurriedly gathering Peter’s school supplies. “Defence Against the Dark Arts—where’s that book? You have Defensive Magic, but that isn’t the one on the list.”

“Jacob didn’t have that one,” Peter replied.

“All right. I think Hogwarts keeps a few spare copies.”

Peter was happy, but a little anxious too. His mother was a nurse at a Muggle hospital, and there was only so much she could afford towards his school fees.

“Mom, I want to talk to you about something…”

He had tried saying it several times, but Matilda kept putting off the conversation, concentrating instead on gathering everything he needed.

Soon, the packing was finished, and the day of his departure arrived.

Mother and son passed through the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross station. On the other side, they stepped into an entirely different world. The magnificent Hogwarts Express stood beside the platform, whistling as parents and children crowded around it.

Matilda knew no one. Peter knew no one. Amongst all those people, they had only each other.

Then the final whistle blew.

“It’s time. Get on,” Matilda said.

Peter hurried aboard with his luggage, then leaned out of a window near the carriage entrance to speak to his mother one last time before leaving her for an entire school year.

“Mom, I wanted to ask you—”

“About your school fees?” Matilda finished, smiling.

Peter stared at her. How had she known what he had been trying so hard to ask?

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I’ll manage.”

His eyes filled with tears. One blink, and they would spill over, so he tried not to blink at all.

Perhaps his mother knew that too.

“Work hard,” she said with a smile. “Make me proud.”

Peter could only nod. No words would come. He knew that if he tried to speak, he would burst into tears.

The train began to move, and the distance between them slowly grew.

Peter leaned farther out of the window, trying to keep his mother in sight for as long as he could. She waved, smiling through her own tears. Then she covered her mouth with her hands as the train carried him away into a world where he might be entirely alone.

Inside, students hurried along the corridor, jostling one another with their luggage as they searched for seats. The house prefects had a separate compartment, while everyone else scrambled to find space in the others.

Peter was still trying to recover from saying goodbye to his mother when a large metal trunk struck him hard in the stomach, knocking him to the floor.

The boy carrying it turned around. He had blond hair, fair skin, an iPad tucked under one arm, and headphones over his ears. He glanced down at Peter, pulled off his headphones, and held out a hand.

“Oh… oh, I’m really sorry about that.”

Peter took his hand and pulled himself upright.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t looking.”

“Neither was I, but I really am sorry.”

“Yeah, actually, you should be. I could have died,” Peter said, rubbing his stomach.

The boy went pale. His eyes widened.

“Really? I didn’t know. All right, I owe you. You can have my seat. I’ll stand for the journey. No worries.”

Peter laughed.

“Oh, you don’t need to stand the whole way. But sure, I’ll share a compartment with you.”

They soon found an almost empty compartment, occupied by a single girl.

“Let’s sit in this one before it fills up,” Peter said.

They went inside and sat opposite each other. The girl in the corner was watching them, but as soon as they looked her way, she turned away.

Peter held out his hand.

“I’m Peter, by the way. Peter Harrow.”

The boy shook it.

“And my name is Stewart… Stewart Malfoy.”

The girl turned back towards him.

“Stewart Malfoy? Draco Malfoy’s son?”

“No. Uncle Draco is my uncle. I’m his nephew.”

The girl looked awkwardly away again.

Peter and Stewart exchanged curious glances, then looked back at her.

“Who are you?” Stewart finally asked.

“My name is Alison Parkinson.”

“Okay,” Stewart replied.

“Pansy Parkinson’s daughter,” Alison added with a shrug, apparently expecting a reaction.

Peter looked from one to the other.

“Do you two know each other? Is there some history here?”

Alison gave an awkward laugh.

“No, no, not at all. I was just messing with you. I’m a little weird.”

A red-headed boy entered the compartment. He surveyed their faces with an air of superiority. Peter expected him to ask whether he could join them, but the boy simply shoved his luggage beneath the seat and sat down beside him.

“Hi, I’m Peter Harrow.”

Peter offered his hand. The boy ignored it and said nothing.

The three exchanged glances. Alison seemed to grow a little more comfortable.

“Well, I’m not the weird one in this compartment anymore, am I?” she murmured to Stewart.

Stewart still looked confused.

“You.”

The red-headed boy was looking at him now. Stewart turned towards him, startled.

“You must be a Malfoy, aren’t you?” the boy asked with a smirk.

Stewart hesitated.

“Yes. I’m Stewart Malfoy. Nice to meet you.”

A nasty smile spread across the boy’s face.

“Blond hair, fair skin, new clothes, and that silver trunk. Definitely a Malfoy.”

There was no mistaking the mockery this time. Stewart glanced at Peter, who had noticed it too.

“You’ll end up in Slytherin, then,” the boy added with disgust.

“What’s wrong with Slytherin?” Peter asked.

“It’s been banned for the last fifteen years. Before that, it was the worst house at Hogwarts. All the evil, cruel, and especially stupid wizards came out of Slytherin!”

“Oh, really? Which house is the best, then?”

“Gryffindor! The house of the brave.”

He said it with pride, as though belonging to it already made him great.

Peter, Alison, and Stewart looked at one another, then burst out laughing.

They had joined forces against the redhead now. Nothing particularly funny had been said, but their laughter made one thing clear: he was outnumbered.

“I heard Gryffindor lost a Quidditch match by a hundred and eighty points last year,” Stewart said.

“A hundred and eighty? But that was the other team’s entire score!” Alison replied.

The three burst out laughing again.

The boy’s face reddened, and his hand curled into a fist. Peter noticed.

“I also heard Gryffindors have been buying new trousers after every lesson.”

“Why?” Stewart asked.

The boy turned towards Peter.

“Well, you can’t go to the next lesson after wetting yourself!”

Their laughter filled the compartment.

The boy lunged at Peter, swinging his fist.

Peter caught his wrist and seized his collar. Stewart and Alison immediately drew their wands and pointed them at the boy.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?”

The trolley witch appeared in the doorway.

She took in Peter gripping the boy’s collar and wrist, then Stewart and Alison with their wands drawn.

“Hmm. Carry on.”

She wheeled her trolley past the compartment.

“Peter, let him go. A teacher might come,” Stewart said.

Peter released him. The boy straightened his clothes, stood up, and dragged his luggage from beneath the seat. He slid the compartment door open.

“I’d find a third compartment too, if I were you,” Alison said. “In case they throw you out of the next one.”

Peter and Stewart giggled.

The boy shot her a look of disgust and left.

The rest of the journey was filled with sweets from the trolley, bought by Stewart for his new friends.

There was Jelly Zoo: animals made of jelly that had to be eaten before they escaped. Fire Sticks were edible sticks of flame, fiercely spicy and certainly not for the faint-hearted. Eye Candy consisted of Halloween-themed sweets shaped like eyeballs. And, of course, there were the ever-popular Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

The journey passed in a mixture of sweet and sour. As Hogwarts drew nearer, the students began changing into their school robes.

“You know, Stewart, iPads aren’t allowed at school. Neither are headphones,” Peter told him.

“They are, bro. My cousin took his. No one stopped him.”

“Can’t you read?” Alison asked. “The school letter came with a list of new policies. It clearly said no mobile phones, no iPads, no laptops, no chargers, and no headsets.”

“Huh? Why?”

“And no more casual clothes,” Peter added. “Until now, students could wear whatever they wanted to lessons. Now it’s school uniform only.”

“Why the hell is this happening?” Stewart protested.

“Don’t you know anything? They’ve changed the Headmaster,” Alison replied. “And he’s pushed the school ten years backwards.”

“This is ridiculous,” Stewart gasped.

The train finally pulled into Hogsmeade station, where a jolly white figure waited for them.

The students stepped down onto the platform one by one. Night had already fallen, and the silhouette of the magnificent castle rose in the distance.

The figure waiting for them was a giant snowman.

A snowman who could walk.

Stewart stared in astonishment.

“What the heck ya starin’ at? Neva seen a handsome snowman before, eh?” Mr. Snowman demanded.

“Are you…?” Alison began.

“Yeah, I am. The creation of Rubeus Hagrid. He had no mistakes of his own, so he created me, to guard and protect d school, like he did.”

“So you’re the new watchman?” Stewart asked.

Mr. Snowman paused.

“I could crush you like a fly, vanilla face. Don’t think of me like Hagrid. Him, you and your wimp uncle could bully. Me? I can kick you into d Black Lake and neva change a shade. And when d school enquires, I’ll blame it on these two.”

He pointed at Peter and Alison, who looked bewildered and frightened.

“Seniors to d chariots!” Mr. Snowman announced. “And d dwarfs, with me to d boats!”

He paused, struggling with the next word.

“…Please.”

As the boats sailed towards Hogwarts, the magic of the place lit up the students’ faces. Peter was spellbound by the glittering castle towering before him. Its windows glowed with warm golden light. Rocky mountains rose in the distance, a Quidditch pitch lay barely visible in the darkness, and an igloo stood at the far end of a dense forest. The place was beautiful.

By the entrance stood a young woman in her late twenties, holding a large scroll in her arms. She wore red and gold robes and a warm smile. As the students stepped ashore and gathered near the school gates, she approached them.

The Snowman directed them towards her.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” she announced, smiling at the new faces. “My name is Miss January Kingsley, and I am the Head of Gryffindor House. Professor William Lincoln, the Deputy Headmaster, couldn’t be here to welcome you, as he has been occupied with official duties. So, you are technically in luck… I shouldn’t have said that.”

She looked a little regretful.

“Anyway, I shall lead you inside and through to the Great Hall. There, you will be sorted into the four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and…” She paused. “Slytherin.”

A student raised her hand.

“Yes?” Miss January turned towards her.

“Wasn’t Slytherin banned?” the girl asked.

“Your name, dear?” Miss January asked politely. Then she addressed the others. “Students, whenever you wish to ask a question, please introduce yourselves first. It’s a new policy introduced by the Headmaster to help us get to know you better.”

“My name is Harper Green,” the girl replied.

“Well, Harper, dear, the school has lifted the ban on Slytherin. The Headmaster intends to treat everyone equally, and he expects all of you to treat one another as equals.”

“But not all of us are equals,” the red-headed boy whispered, staring at Peter.

Peter heard him and stared back.

“All right, let’s not wait for the grass to grow. Students, this way.”

Miss January directed them inside, then turned to the Snowman.

“Mr. Snowman, thank you for fetching the students.”

“No problem, Miss January. I’ll join you at the staff table,” he replied with a smile before walking away.

The entrance hall was vast, illuminated by the golden glow of flames. Peter walked in with the others, taking in the grandeur of Hogwarts as Miss January led them down one corridor and then another. Finally, she drew her wand, and the doors to the Great Hall swung open.

The Great Hall was beautiful. Four long tables stretched across the room. The first three were filled with students chatting amongst themselves, while the Slytherin table stood empty and alone.

Peter glanced at the lonely table. Somehow, he could feel its sadness and longing in his own heart.

At the far end of the hall, the staff table stood on a raised platform. The teachers sat on either side of Professor Flamel, who occupied the centre, sipping whisky from his goblet.

The students followed Miss January into the hall and stopped just in front of the platform.

Professor Flamel rose from his seat and stepped up to the podium to deliver his welcome speech.

“Silence.”

The word was enough. The entire hall fell quiet.

“My dear students, I believe an introduction is in order.” Professor Flamel gave a little chuckle before continuing. “Professor Mary Richards bid farewell to Hogwarts last year. During her time here, she did wonderful work for this school, and I believe that deserves a round of applause.”

Applause filled the Great Hall.

“And, like these first-years, this is my first year too. So there is no one in this room who understands your confusion better than I do—except perhaps Professor William, who joined last year, I believe.”

Flamel glanced towards Professor William, seated at the far end of the staff table. William raised his goblet to him with a nod.

“I have always loved this school. I have always loved its students. And I have always believed in second chances.”

Flamel swallowed before continuing.

“So, this year, I would like to welcome Slytherin back to Hogwarts.”

He gestured towards the lonely Slytherin table. A half-hearted round of applause followed.

“And I hope that the first students of this new Slytherin will bring grace and glory to our school, and make Hogwarts stand prouder than ever. Now, before the Sorting Ceremony begins, I would like to announce a few new policies and rules.”

Professor Flamel gave a nervous smile. A murmur spread amongst the students.

“When I first arrived, the school was not in a particularly good condition—physically, to be specific. The walls were covered in stickers and scribbles, and the grounds were littered. Now, I understand that celebration is an important part of student life, but so is keeping your surroundings clean.”

Several students turned towards a large message scrawled across the wall:

I LOVE YOU, MISS JANUARY.

A few chuckled. Miss January’s face turned red.

“With that in mind, I would like all students to clean their classrooms after each lesson. Saturday mornings will be spent cleaning the walls of the Great Hall, and Sunday mornings must begin with cleaning the grounds.”

Disappointed murmurs and whispers spread through the hall.

Professor Flamel shrugged.

“Well, I mean… if you want to avoid all that work, just keep your surroundings clean.”

The chatter grew louder.

“Silence!” Miss January called.

The hall fell quiet again.

“Thank you, Miss January.” Flamel gave her an awkward smile before continuing. “I hope I have made myself clear. Now, let us begin the Sorting Ceremony, after which we shall enjoy our delicious feast!”

He smiled and stepped away from the podium.

“Now, as I call out your names…” Miss January began.

But Professor Flamel returned to the podium, interrupting her.

“One… one more thing before I go.”

His expression had grown serious.

“No student is permitted to go near the Forbidden Forest. And I mean it.”

There was a tension in his face now.

“No lessons or detentions shall take place in the Forbidden Forest this year. This applies to the teachers as well. And to Mr. Snowman. In fact, we would like Mr. Snowman to relocate his igloo nearer the Quidditch pitch, for this year at least.”

He fixed Mr. Snowman with a deadly serious look. The Snowman nodded.

“Sorry, Miss January. Please continue.”

Professor Flamel finally stepped away from the podium.

The Sorting Ceremony then began. The legendary Sorting Hat, ancient, tattered, frayed, and as dirty as ever, sat on the stool. Miss January picked it up.

“George Smith!” she called.

The red-headed boy Peter had argued with on the train emerged from among the other students. He stepped onto the stage in the Great Hall and sat on the stool in the middle.

Miss January placed the hat on George’s head. The opening near its brim formed a mouth, but its voice spoke inside his head. George’s expression shifted. He looked frightened and excited at the same time, surprised by what the hat was telling him, yet somehow proud. The students watched in astonishment.

Then the hat cried, “GRYFFINDOR!”

A roar of applause rose from the Gryffindor table to welcome its newest member. Peter clapped too, though without much enthusiasm.

“Stewart Malfoy!” Miss January called.

Stewart stepped forward, climbed onto the stage, and sat on the stool. Miss January placed the hat on his head, and his face flushed pink.

The hat wasted no time.

“Huh. Another one of them… SLYTHERIN!”

There was no one to cheer at the Slytherin table. It was empty.

The other students exchanged glances. Stewart was the first student to be sorted into Slytherin since its long ban.

Then Professor Flamel began to clap, and the rest of the school followed. A little joy appeared on Stewart’s face, but it was short-lived.

“Alison Parkinson!” Miss January called.

Alison stepped forward nervously, climbed onto the stage, and sat on the stool. Miss January placed the hat on her head, and it began speaking inside her mind.

Peter looked over at poor Stewart, sitting all alone at the empty Slytherin table, staring towards the staff. Then Stewart’s eyes met his. Seeing his friend alone, Peter felt a longing to join him.

He turned towards the other end of the hall and looked at George Smith, who had already started chatting with his fellow Gryffindors. He was probably boasting about his supposed bravery and courage, with that false confidence Peter hated.

Greatness is earned, Peter believed.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat cried.

Alison looked towards Stewart, who immediately began clapping. Flamel joined him, followed by the rest of the school.

Peter felt a little happier knowing that two of his friends were finally in the same house. His longing to join them only grew stronger.

“Josh Hill!” Miss January called.

Peter was restless, waiting for his turn, his feet tapping against the floor without him realising it. His eyes moved between Stewart and Alison and Miss January as she called out the names.

Finally, after a few more students, she called, “Peter Harrow!”

Stewart and Alison were watching him intently now, waiting for his sorting.

Peter stepped forward and sat on the stool. Miss January gave him a kind smile and placed the hat on his head.

“Hmmm…”

A voice sounded inside Peter’s head, sending a shiver through him. It was bold and ancient—the voice of the Sorting Hat.

“You are a Slytherin by blood. I should place you in Slytherin, then.”

Peter felt a moment of relief, but the hat paused.

“But you are also brave, like a Gryffindor. A courage rests quietly in your heart, waiting to reveal itself in the hour of need.”

Peter grew alarmed. Would he have to share a house with George Smith? Would he lose his friends?

“Ah, loyalty towards your friends. The very core of Hufflepuff.”

Peter was confused now, but he kept repeating the same word in his head.

Please, Slytherin. Please put me in Slytherin…

He thought the words as though he were speaking directly to the hat.

“Seriously? You want Slytherin? That house is damned. Only children who are wicked or cunning are placed there. The Dark Lord was a Slytherin. Are you sure you want this house?”

Yes. Make me a Slytherin. I have come all this way to be a Slytherin.

“Hmmm. Greatness is earned.”

Peter’s face betrayed his surprise.

“What a fine thought you have in your head. Even though it came from your hatred of that red-haired Gryffindor, it speaks of wisdom. You appear to be a true Ravenclaw.”

The hat giggled.

Peter was trembling with fear and nervousness. He did not want to lose his friends.

Then the hat spoke aloud for everyone to hear.

“IN MY ENTIRE HISTORY, I HAVE BEEN WRONG!”

Flamel, Miss January, the staff, and every student turned their attention to the hat.

Professor Flamel looked particularly curious.

“YES! YOU HEARD ME RIGHT! I HAVE BEEN WRONG ALL MY LIFE!” the hat continued.

“CHILDREN ARE LIKE CLAY. THEY BECOME WHAT YOU SHAPE THEM INTO! THEIR FUTURES ARE UNCERTAIN!

“A GRYFFINDOR CAN GROW UP TO BECOME A TYRANT! AND A SLYTHERIN CAN BE THE BEST FRIEND YOU HAVE EVER HAD!”

Flamel’s expression grew serious. He listened closely.

“A RAVENCLAW CAN TURN OUT TO BE FOOLISH, AND A HUFFLEPUFF MAY BETRAY!

“THEY BECOME WHAT THE WORLD MAKES THEM, NOT WHAT THEIR ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD SOULS MAY CARRY.

“I WISH TO RETIRE SOON. AND I KNOW THAT THE NEW PROFESSOR, ALEXANDER FLAMEL, WOULD BE KIND ENOUGH TO CONSIDER ENDING THIS CLASSIFICATION CEREMONY, WHICH HAS LED…”

It paused.

“…TO INNOCENT SOULS BEING JUDGED FOR CRIMES THEY NEVER COMMITTED.”

All this while, Peter had been tapping his feet and trying to look up at the hat, eager to hear its decision.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Professor Flamel rose to his feet and began to applaud. The entire staff stood with him, and the students joined in.

Relieved and overjoyed, Peter waited for Miss January to lift the hat from his head, then rushed to the Slytherin table to join his friends.

Professor Flamel watched him curiously. He believed something in Peter had changed the Sorting Hat, making it question something it had never considered in all its years. There was something truly special about the boy.

Peter glanced towards Professor Flamel and found him looking back. Flamel gave him a warm smile, which Peter returned. Then the professor asked Miss January to continue the ceremony.

Once the sorting was over, delicious, mouth-watering food appeared on the house tables. The Slytherin table, too, was now filled with first-years, who glanced at one another and marvelled at the feast.

It was as though an empty, abandoned house had suddenly become a home.

The students began helping themselves to generous portions of turkey, apple pie, chocolate pudding, muffins, jelly, and much more.

After the feast, they were led to their respective dormitories.

The Slytherins followed their Head of House, William Lincoln, downstairs. As they descended deeper and deeper into the castle, the students began to wonder whether the stairs would ever end.

At last, William stopped in front of a blank wall.

“Slither.”

The wall suddenly transformed into a magnificent gateway, opening into a common room beneath the black lake.

The room glowed with cyan light from the lake’s depths. Creatures hovered in the water beyond the windows, seemingly as astonished by the new faces as the children were by them.

Peter, Stewart, and Alison entered with their mouths hanging open, looking around at the portraits of the great wizards Slytherin had produced.

One portrait, depicting an elderly Asian man in brown and golden robes, spoke to the children.

“Oh, hello! Welcome to Slytherin!”

His name was Xin Li the Philosopher. Peter looked up at his portrait and waved.

William then addressed the students.

“All right, students. As you are aware, I am William Lincoln, Head of Slytherin House.”

William was a tall, handsome man in his thirties, with short hair. There was something of a cold-hearted, cunning wizard about him, but also a hint of someone who cared deeply and would fight for what he loved. Peter listened closely, feeling as though he had some connection with him.

“I don’t like teaching children. I don’t like children. And I don’t like weak students. Your classes begin tomorrow, and your timetables will be handed out at breakfast. Don’t embarrass this house. Don’t embarrass me. And, of course, don’t embarrass yourselves.”

Peter was taken aback. He glanced at Stewart and Alison. So far, he had not heard anyone at the school speak so coldly.

“Girls, this way.” William pointed to the left. “Boys, that way.” He pointed to the right. “Bedtime is strict. I don’t want to hear so much as a pin drop after nine. Any questions?”

The common room fell silent. Then a boy raised his hand.

William looked at him.

“Sir, do you sleep here?”

“Your name, ‘sir’?” William asked sarcastically.

“Oliver Bryan, sir.”

“No… sir,” William replied, smirking at Oliver.

Then he swept out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, the Slytherins burst into cheers and howls before rushing towards their dormitories.

Peter, Stewart, and Alison remained where they were for a moment, looking at one another with joy, eager to begin this journey together.