Chapter Four- The Sorting Hat's Decision

                                    

                                          


                          
(y/n)'s pov:
                          


                          
      My face turns a slight red when my name is called and I confidently walk up to the stool slightly smirking. I notice Dumbledore suddenly lean forward as if he was actually listening to where I was to be sorted. I make eye contact with him for a split second before turning around and sitting on the stool. The hat is then placed on my head and I swallow the lump that has grown in my throat.
                          
      "Hmm. A Weasley. But not by blood. What to do, what to do." My eyes find George's at the Gryffindor table and just seeing someone I knew calmed me down and I become less tense sitting. "Well, I guess I'm sorting from scratch then. You are a smart, girl, a very smart girl, with great potential. I sense great triumphs in potions." I smile slightly at the words. "But is wisdom your most important trait. No, no it's not. Moving on then. Your loyalty and patience are impeccable. You would excel well in Hufflepuff. So many kind witches and wizards have come from that house."
                          
      The hat talks to itself about my kind heart for about a minute and I look at McGonagall with a cry to help. She looks at me and shakes her head a little bit. "However... there it is. I can feel it. Yup. That's it." The great hall gets so quiet you could hear a needle drop.
                          
      "What's happening?" I ask politely to Professor McGonagall.
                          
      "Oh my, a hatstall. It occurs when the hat takes more than five minutes for it to decide where to place a student. The hat is going into really deep thought and it happens about once every fifty years... the same thing happened to me but only between two houses, it is going between all four houses for you which is extremely rare." McGonagall explains to me. I slowly nod, still uneasy with this whole process of sorting.
                          
      "I'm really torn I hope you know. Very inconvenient," the hat says.
                          
      "Sorry?" I say but with a question because how is one supposed to reply to that.
                          
      "Let's see I've got it down to two. Slytherin or Gryffindor, Slytherin or Gryffindor? Your ambition and cunningness would do you well in the Slytherin house, not to mention you are not afraid to call anyone out if they deserve it. And I do sense some blood relation to that house. Maybe that is the right fit for you. But then there's that Gryffindor that just won't allow me to sort you into Slytherin. I also sense a blood relation in Gryffindor house, too, and somehow just a smidge of Ravenclaw. You know what, I should've asked you this a long time ago but do you have a preference? Just think about it and I will consider it."
                          
      Gryffindor.
                          
      "Okay let's see...
                          


                          
      GRYFFINDOR!" A smile spreads across my face and McGonagall finally takes the hat off of my head. The hall erupts in claps and hollers and I get this sense that maybe I'm not just basic (y/n) Weasley and I'm something so much more than that.
                          
      I happily took a seat next to Ron and looked back up at the smaller group of students still waiting to be sorted. I see Harry, now standing alone awkwardly, who was waiting to be called up. A few more people get called up, but no Gryffindors so far.
                          
      "Harry Potter"
                          
      I saw Harry's face drop at the sound of his name and people don't even try to hide their snickering. Dumbledore, like he did to me, leans forward to listen to the hat. He steps up to the stool and takes a seat.
                          
      "Hmm, difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind either, there's talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you." Harry closes his eyes and I see him mouth something to himself. "Not Slytherin ehh," talk about getting exposed, "are you sure, you could be great you know. It's all here in your head, Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, there's no doubt about that. No! Well if you're sure, better be... Gryffindor!" A smile of relief washes over his face as he comes down the steps to join us.
                          
      Harry sits down next to Hermione and shakes everyone's hand that is within shaking distance. We look back up at Dumbledore, who tips his cup to Harry.
                          
      Soon enough, everyone had gotten sorted and Professor McGonagall was tapping on her glass. "Your attention please."
                          
      "Let the feast... begin." Dumbledore opened his arms and plates upon plates of food had appeared right before us. On my right, Ron was digging into chicken legs with both of his hands, while I opted for a much healthier approach... pasta and meatballs.
                          
      "Hey, Percy, who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asks. Our attention is drawn to a man with black hair and a blank face.
                          
      "Oh, that's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house."
                          
      "What's he teach?"
                          
      "Potions. But everyone knows it's the dark arts he fancies. He's been after Quirrell's job for years."
                          
      I put another meatball on my plate and as I was about to take a bite of it, a ghost appeared from the table right before my eyes. I jolted into Ron's side, in fear while dropping the fork onto my head.
                          
      "What the hell," I breathed out while regaining my breath. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all shared a laugh at my spasm.
                          
      "Hello. How are you? Welcome to Gryffindor." I look around and see more ghosts flying around the room playfully.
                          
      "Hello Sir Nicholas. Have a nice summer?" Percy finally speaks up.
                          
      "Dismal. Once again my request to join the headless hunt has been denied."
                          
      "I know you! You're nearly headless Nick!" Ron exclaims.
                          
      "I prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind."
                          
      "Nearly headless, how can you be nearly headless?" Hermione questions the ghost.
                          
      "Like this." Sir Nicholas grabs his hair and pulls his neck to the side, showing us that it is hardly attached by a thread. Everyone's face went sour at the sight. I feel the meatball about to come back up, so I turn away from the ghost. He soon floats away without answering any more questions.
                          
      We all continue to munch on our food when Dumbledore signals for prefects to take us to our houses. Fortunately, Percy is our prefect so I know to follow him out of the hall. As I was leaving, the Malfoy boy and I make eye contact. Instead of smiling sweetly like how he did on the train, he sends daggers. He probably didn't know I was a Weasley until today. Instead of retaliating I just leave the great hall.
                          
      "This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh and keep an eye on the staircases, they like to change." I look up at the hundreds of staircases shifting in whatever direction they please. "Keep up please, and follow me."
                          
      Everyone was too much in awe with the moving and speaking portraits to engage with one another. We made our way up a few staircases, took a few lefts, and a few rights until we were faced to face with a portrait of a fat lady.
                          
      "Password."
                          
      "Caput Draconis." The portrait opened to a smaller doorway which, I'm assuming, leads to the Gryffindor common room. "Follow me, everyone. Keep up. Quickly come on. Gather around here. Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys dormitories upstairs and down to the left. Girls, same on the right. You'll find all your belongings have already been brought up."
                          
      I quickly follow Hermione up the stairs and take a right to the girls' side. Outside the dorms was a list of who was in which rooms, along with your two roommates. I frowned when I saw Hermione was not one of my two roommates.
                          
      In black ink wrote Room #4: Viviana Belmore, Everley Green, and (Y/n) Weasley.