"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant.

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

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Johnny could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -- the rest of the school must already be here -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"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.

"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 rulebreaking 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.

"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."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair. Johnny was trying to straighten his tie and Hermione was mumbling quietly to herself, often getting answers back from Johnny.

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

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Johnny heard Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Johnny's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet -- he just hoped all the reading he did would pay off. He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except Hermione, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Then something happened that made Johnny and the other First Years  jump about a foot in the air -- several people behind him screamed.

"What the -- ?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance--"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

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

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

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

Johnny had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Johnny looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars, he remembered reading about all of this in Hogwarts: A History. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't open on to the heavens.

Johnny 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.

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.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Johnny heard Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly.

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!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause --

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Johnny saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

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

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

Johnny was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during P.E at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one liked him. He was exceptionally good at Cross Country, Rugby and Football.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Johnny noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. Johnny smiled at her eagerness.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned as Johnny hit him in the back for complaining. No one was going to bully his best friend on his watch.

But then a horrible thought struck Johnny, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

When Neville 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."

"Malfoy, Draco."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

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

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 --

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

After a few minutes, the hat seemed to make up its mind and yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He seemed so relieved to have been chosen, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. The Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while a set of twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

"Scaletta, Johnny."

Johnny approached the hat, mumbling quietly to himself.

"Hmm," the hat said quietly so only Johnny could hear. "You must be the most difficult Muggle-Born I've ever sorted, and I've sorted a lot of them. Let's see, you're brave, confident, courageous, the traits of Gryffindor. You're clever, sharp-minded and creative, the traits of the great Ravenclaw. You're hard-working, friendly and dedicated, the traits of Hufflepuff. Yet you're ambitious, cunning determined, the traits of Slytherin."

Johnny gulped, it had been a while now since the hat was placed on his head, and his future peers were staring intently at him, wondering how this Muggle-Born boy who didn't even know magic existed until a year ago was taking so long to be sorted.

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat yelled, making Johnny pale as his eyes landed on the table of green and silver. All the students seemed to be either glaring harshly at him or were smirking very maliciously at him, like a snake hunting down its next meal.

Johnny slowly made eye contact with Hermione, who smiled at him in reassurance.

Very slowly, Johnny made his way over to his new House table, and sat opposite a girl who smiled cheerfully at him, the only person on the table who was friendly by the looks of it.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry, Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The last person to go up was a boy named Blaise Zabini, who joined the Slytherin table and smiled at Johnny as they sat next to each other.

Johnny looked down at his empty gold plate, he was trying to ignore the extremely malicious looks members of his House were giving him. He had only just realised how hungry he was. The snacks he had on the train seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"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!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Johnny didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he -- a bit mad?" Johnny asked Blaise and the girl in front of him uncertainly.

"Mad?" said the girl airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. I'm Pansy by the way, Pansy Parkinson."

"Blaise Zabini," Blaise said quietly, sending a small smile Johnny's way.

"Ignore Blaise," Pansy laughed, "he's always been quite shy."

"You two are the only ones who seem to like me," Johnny said, looking back down at his empty plate as food magically appeared. Blaise patted him on the back and the two smiled sadly.

"The Pureblood families are all stuck in the past with their prejudice ways," Pansy explained, putting food on her plate. "Honestly, if it wasn't for Muggles, this world probably cease to exist."

"My mother is still stuck in her ways," Blaise carried on from Pansy.

"What about your father?" Johnny asked, glancing up from his plate.

"Never met him," Blaise shrugged. "mother's been married six times, never last longer than six months."

"All divorced?"

"All dead," Pansy butted in, raising her hands in surrender as Blaise glared at her. "You know I'm right, all she wants is money."

Later, once the two Slytherin Prefect's led the First Years to the Slytherin Dorms, Johnny found himself sitting on his bed, staring out at lake.

The Slytherin Common Room was centred in the dungeon, under the Black Lake which gave green colour to the rooms as the water reflected.

"Stupid old hat, putting a Mudblood in Slytherin!" Draco Malfoy's nearby voice sneered.

These were going to be long years for Johnny Scaletta.