2: The Sorting HatMature

Lily left to find a seat at the Hufflepuff table once we got inside the Hogwarts castle. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. The school back in America had just been ordinary. A big brick building, four floor, including the basement.
A pleasantly familiar voice rang throughout the hall where myself and a bunch of little kids stood. I assumed they were first years yet to be sorted. This was another thing different from my old school. We had to take a placement test over the summer, and we were owled our results back before we got to school. I was a little wary to be sorted in front of the entire school with a bunch of 11-year-olds.
I looked up to see Professor Malfoy telling the kids what was going on. He finished talking and I realized I probably should have been listening because what he said most likely applied to me as well. They all began entering the great hall, but Professor Malfoy stopped me.
"Uh, sir? I'm sorry, but I wasn't exactly, um, paying attention?" I explained nervously. "I don't know what to do."
"Sid," he laughed. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He remembered my name. "You don't have to call me sir outside of school. In fact, you can even call me . . . Draco, if you'd like?" he suggested.
"Draco," I repeated, liking the sound of it.
"You'll go in and get sorted after the first years are done. Professor McGonnogal - she's the headmistress - will call you up and you get a special sorting," he explained.
I nodded my head. "But, why is it special?" I asked.
"Well, not special, I suppose. But it's different from the first years, because you're a transfer student, and you'll be up there alone, whereas there are a lot of them in a big group up there," he said.
"Wow, Draco that's comforting," I said sarcastically. A sparkle lit up his eyes when I said his name, but then I knew it had to be my mind playing mean tricks on me. It wasn't fair, for my subconscious to allow me to fantasize that way.
"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly. I just smiled back. There was no point in saying anything back. With that smile, he knew he was forgiven. I opened my mouth to reply, but I was interrupted by the two, ceiling high wooden doors opening in front of me. Then, a woman's voice called out my name. I was frozen.
Two hands gently took my elbows and urged me forwards. His electric touch was enough to get me moving. However, when his hands were gone, I was petrified again. Seven years and four houses of students sat there, staring at me as I took what felt like the walk of shame.
At the end of my walk, there were a few stairs, and then a stool. Upon that stool sad an ancient-looking, brown wizard's hat. The woman standing, who had announced my name, indicated for me to step up the the stool. I obliged.
Now, I just felt bloody stupid. Sitting on a small, rickety, wooden stool with an old hat on, facing a bunch of students who were studying me like some kind of animal. I just couldn't -
"Ah, hello there, Sid," a voice hissed in my ear. I looked around quickly, before I realized I felt the hat shuffling atop my head, trying to get . . . comfortable? The hat was alive? This was how they sorted students at Hogwarts? I couldn't believe it.
I just swallowed the lump in my throat as the hat continued to contemplate my fate. "I've hardly ever encountered one so hard to place. You would do great things in all houses, that much is clear. A cunning mind. A nose for mischief. A brave heart. A pure and loyal soul. I supposed I can eliminate Hufflepuff. We don't want to stick you with the losers, now do we?" He laughed a scratchy, throaty sound.
I frowned at that. Okay, I know he was a hat and all, but he wasn't exactly nice, was he?
"I'm sure you'd be grumpy, too, if you spent most of your years dwindling away in a glass case, thinking up a song for the beginning of each new school year. Yes, anyways . . . the last student I sorted who was this difficult to place, I believe was . . . ah, yes - Harry Potter. We haven't had so much drama since that boy. How I miss him. I suppose he would be too busy with his auror job and all now, wouldn't he? I've heard he's Head of the Auror department, and that funny Weasely idiot works with him," the hat recalled. Although this was completely besides the point of my sorting, I was listening intently, completely intrigued by anything to do with Harry Potter.
"I see you fancy the Malfoy teacher, eh? That could cause some problems, I'd say. But we don't want to put you into Ravenclaw. That would turn you into a goody-two-shoes, and like I said, I think you could really bring this school back to life. Now, it comes down to the most famous of Houses here at Hogwarts. Who wants you more, Godric or Salazar? In Gryffindor, you'd be the equivalent of a female Harry Potter, I'd say. We don't want history to repeat itself exactly. Plus, the poor Malfoy bloke could use some cheering up. 'Mate's been lonely since he graduated, I'd say. And he is the Head of Slytherin. That's it, I've done it again," the hat chanted.
Then, to the rest of the hall he shouted out one single word. It was the moment that would change my 7th year at Hogwarts completely. I sure didn't know it. He was right that I liked Draco more than I should. I would be more than happy to be in his house. But, I always wondered how it would've felt to be the second Harry Potter. All the glory, and the fame. Did I want that?
I guess it didn't matter anyways. I would never get the chance to be another Harry Potter. Instead, I became someone entirely different from him. But some would beg to differ that I any less of a hero.
We'll get to that part of my story later, though.

The End

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