The heavy doors swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in deep, emerald, velvet robes stood there. She had a tightly bound scroll in her hands, and she had a very stern face. 

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. Calysta's jaw dropped open, and the first thing she saw was the thousands of candles that levitated above. The hall was so big that the entire of the Dursleys' house could fit inside, and the stone walls were lit with flaming torches. The ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent, marble staircase facing them led them to the upper floors.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, 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 the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory and spend free time in your House common room."

Calysta listened carefully, her mind already thinking up how big Hogwarts was. Definitely big enough to get lost. She would need a map, she was sure. 

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours."

Well, that wasn't good news, according to Calysta. Scowling temperamentally, she sighed, trying to think up a new way to do those fun, troublesome things without getting into trouble.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." 

Calysta immediately smartened herself up, undoing her hair from her messy ponytail and leaving it down in its soft curls instead.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Calysta gulped.

"Regulus," she whispered, tapping the shoulder of the boy who stood a few steps ahead of her. He didn't seem to hear her, or respond. "Reggie!" she whispered, tapping him again. 

At this, he scowled, looking at her. "Don't call me that," he mumbled.

She sent him an apologetic grin. "How do they sort us?" she whisper-asked.

"Some sort of ability test," he said. "You've got to perform magic in front of everyone. The more impressive the spell, the better the House you get sorted into."

Calysta paled. She barely knew any magic. How was she going to manage doing it in front of the whole school?

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned.

Calysta felt the bundle of nerves settle in the very pits of her belly, her throat tightening. She tried to relax, trying to remember everything she read in her school books, but the only thing that came to mind was potions, and transfiguration. Perhaps those could help...

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Calysta ended up standing behind Anthony Goldstein, and Jeff occupied the spot behind her. 

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house. It looked extremely old, as if it were passed down through generation after generation.

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Calysta thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, she stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like 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 folk 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 whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"Seriously? We've just got to try on the hat?" Calysta groaned, narrowing her eyes at Regulus, who had a sly grin on his face as he made eye-contact with her. She dragged her finger down her neck, showing him he was worse than dead. His expression didn't change. Instead, his smile widened and he slipped his hands into his pocket.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment."When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

"Avery, Raymond," she called out, again. A dark haired boy stepped forward. Calysta noticed him as the boy who'd come to her compartment with Draco Malfoy. She sent a glance to said blonde, who sent Raymond Avery a thumbs up. Most probably, he'd be in Slytherin, according to how Draco Malfoy had crossed his fingers... 

Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. All was quiet. And then—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"What?" That was the reaction of most of the Slytherin table. Calysta began to hear whispers.

"An Avery? In Gryffindor?"

"Unheard of."

"His parents would be furious..."

"Silence," said Professor McGonagall loudly, continuing to read the names off the parchment. "Bones, Susan!" 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. 

"Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. 

"Bulstrode, Millicent," called Professor McGonagall. The half-dressed, fat girl stepped up, with no visible change in her appearance. 

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Evans, Jeffery."

Calysta held her breath, nudging Jeff to go forwards, wishing him good luck as he walked past her. He sat on the stool, closing his eyes as the hat was placed on his head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Calysta clapped. What if all her friends weren't sorted into the same houses. She kept her fingers crossed the entire time.

She zoned out into her thoughts for a few minutes, until she perked up when Professor McGonagall called out Anthony Goldstein's name.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Goldstein, Regulus!"

She gulped. Regulus sat on the stool for about thirty seconds before the hat finally declared him a Gryffindor, and she cheered loudly.

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned. 

Calysta took a glance at her brother, who looked rather sick with nerves. She moved backwards slightly, before falling into step beside him, and holding his hand.

He squeezed her fingers, showing he was grateful for that.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" 

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. 

Calysta had desperately hoped she wasn't in a House with him. Now, she just despised Slytherin.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson" ..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" ..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne" ..., and then, at last —

"Potter, Calysta."

Calysta stepped forward as her stomach gave a weird lurch. All those sweets she'd eaten back on the train suddenly seemed to make her sick. As she stepped forward, whispers broke out all over the Great Hall like tiny fires.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Calysta Potter?"

"Her twin must be there too.."

The last thing Calysta saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second she was looking at the black inside of the hat. She waited.

"Oh, you've got potential,"  said a voice in her head. She realized that hat was inside her head. "A photographic memory? You'd do well in Ravenclaw.."

Please, please, I just want to be with my friends, she thought. What she didn't realize, was the hat could read her thoughts.

"You're destined to do great things," said the hat. "Slytherin will lead you to greatness, there's no doubt about that.. You'll make your real friends in Slytherin..."

Calysta suddenly felt sick. Was she going to be put in Slytherin? She couldn't take it, she'd rather leave. 

"Yes, you'll do great things in Slytherin... But then you'll grow a thirst for more, a thirst for power. Those great things you do.. some of them may not all be good, some of them may not all be bad. You need to remember that everything has a balance.. Better be...."

Before she could figure out the meaning of these strange words, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" 

The Great Hall erupted into loud cheers. 

She made her way to the Gryffindor table, sitting right next to Regulus and Jeff, who congratulated her on getting Gryffindor. But as long as she wasn't in the same House as Malfoy, and she had her friends, she was happy.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry stepped forward, looking just as nervous as she did. The hat took much longer to sort him. Harry looked like he was whispering something to himself, his fingers gripping the stool firmly.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

By far, this was the loudest cheer from the Gryffindor table. Not only did the get one Potter but two. 

"WE GOT THE POTTERS, WE GOT THE POTTERS!" Fred and George were chanting, over and over again. Percy the prefect was shaking their hands furiously.

Calysta tackled Harry into a hug, making space for him next to her.

From where they were sitting, they could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who  gave them the thumbs up. Harry grinned back and Calysta waved. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train.

 Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Calysta had never seen Dumbledore before, but she knew he was Dumbledore. She spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

There were only six people left to be sorted. Calysta didn't care about anyone except Felix. He was the only one who wasn't in Gryffindor. He had to make Gryffindor, there was no way he couldn't be in Gryffindor.

Professor McGonagall called Felix to come forward. "Sanguini, Felix."

And when the hat finally declared him a Gryffindor, Calysta was sure she was the happiest person on earth. Hogwarts would definitely be a blast, she was sure.

Felix came to sit next to her, and his grin was stretched so wide that it rivalled the Cheshire cat's.

Professor McGonagall called one more name, "Zabini, Blaise," who got sorted into Slytherin, before rolling the parchment and stowing it away in her robes.

Calysta looked down at her empty gold plate. Now she was starving, despite the treats she'd eaten back on the train. 

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Calysta furrowed her brows, giggling. 

"Is he mad?" she whispered to Fred and George, who were sitting opposite her. 

"Mad?" echoed Percy, airily. "He's a genius, best wizard in the world. But yes, he's a bit mad. Potatoes?"

Calysta's jaw dropped as the plates in front of her were filled with food. Roast beef, roast chicken, lamb chops, sausages, steak, potatoes, steamed vegetables, fries, gravy, ketchup, and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Calysta piled her plate with almost everything, drizzling it with the salad dressing. 

"That does look good," the ghost opposite her said, looking at her plate longingly.

"Can't you — ?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

 Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the Cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

Calysta looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As Calysta helped herself to some chocolate eclairs and ice cream, she decorated her plate with strawberries, taking a large spoonful into her mouth.

"Whoa, Cal, slow down," Jeff told her. "You'll get a brain freeze."

She shook her head, putting a strawberry into her already full mouth.

Opposite her, Jeff had double the amount of ice cream on his spoon. 

She swallowed. "Says they boy who's got double on his spoon," she pointed out. 

Jeff shrugged, putting the large bite into his mouth. Ten seconds later, he was clutching his head and groaning, the spoon hanging off his mouth.

Regulus let out a roar of laughter. "Idiot got a brain freeze."

Regulus was seated next to Raymond Avery, who was looking rather nauseated. He didn't eat much. Instead, he was sulking, chin rested atop his arms, which were folded across the table.

Calysta figured he was still upset about being sorted into Gryffindor.

A few seats away, Hermione and Percy were talking about lessons, causing Calysta to scoff and shake her head. 

"Am I the only one not looking forward to starting lessons right away?" she asked.

Regulus shook his head, and Jeff pulled the spoon out of his mouth. "I think they should give us a day or two to get familiar with the place."

They looked at Felix, who'd pulled a book out, and was reading underneath the table.

"I bet he doesn't mind," smirked Regulus.

"Oy bookworm," Jeff poked Felix in the ribs, who hissed and looked up. 

"What?" Felix asked irritably.

"Nothing," the other three spoke.

Felix went back to reading his book, while the other three giggled and continued talking about how they'd need a map to find their way around the massive castle.

Calysta was feeling rather drowsy, and she cast a glance at the Professors' table. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Calysta's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on her forehead, before looking at Harry. 

She clapped her hand to her forehead, hissing slightly in pain. Harry clutched his scar too. She glanced at the teacher again. He looked rather like an overgrown bat.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Calysta had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like her or Harry at all. 

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to— everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Snape didn't look at either of them again.

Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent again.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."  

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, before landing in Calysta's direction. Somehow, it was like he expected she'd go into the forest. She had no idea how he'd already read her mind that she wanted to go and explore the forest.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." 

"Aw man!" Calysta frowned, looking at Regulus, who was looking disappointed as well.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch."

The brunette had already made her mind to sneak into the trials somehow. She'd stay up all night learning how to play quidditch if she had to.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." 

She laughed, but she was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy. 

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Interested to hear it, Calysta sat up straight.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a flyoff the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. 

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" 

"There's no fixed tune?" Calysta asked, rather bewildered. Fred shook his head, and the school bellowed:  

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with filling
With some interesting stuff,
For now they're bare and full of air,
Dead flies and bits of fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone had picked out different tunes, and finished their songs at different times. Calysta, Jeff, Regulus and Felix had just joined in with the Weasley twins, who were singing in in the tune of a slow, mournful funeral march.

At last, they were the only ones left singing, and Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they had finished, he was one of the people who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Calysta was sleepy, and her legs felt heavy as she dragged herself to follow Percy. She was too tired to notice that all the portraits were moving and waving and talking, too. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and she was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself.

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. 

 "Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy. 

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed. 

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are." 

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said. 

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal around hole in the wall.

 They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. 

"Whoa," whispered Calysta. Beside her, Jeff gasped, looking around in wonder. Even the Avery boy had cheered up a little when he saw the common room.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

Calysta was sharing a dormitory with Hermione, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown and a quiet girl called Kellah Moon. 

Hermione was going on and on about how they had Transfiguration first thing in the morning, and repeating the theories and definitions she had memories.

Parvati and Lavender were whispering and giggling near the bathroom, and Kellah had closed the curtains around her bed and was already sleeping.

The brunette changed into her pajamas before entering bed, reading a book for ten minutes, falling asleep even before the lights went out.

She had a strange dream, where she was in a dark room with Professor Quirrell, who's turban was on her head, and it kept falling over her eyes and obscuring her vision. The turban was singing and shouting random words, before twisting itself around her like a snake. The hook-nosed teacher was looking at her as she struggled, and he turned into Draco Malfoy, who was laughing at her, before she heard a high-pitched laughter and a flash of green light. She woke up, sweating. Drinking water, she turned around and closed her eyes. 

When she woke up, she didn't remember the dream at all.

{ i actually really enjoyed writing this chapter. i hope it wasn't too cliché. what are your thoughts on the story so far?  apologies for not updating these past four days, i was too busy shopping. anyway, y'all take care. vote please- it helps. and share if you like this story. }