Chapter 184
Through the window, Harry saw Hogwarts approaching its windows glowing warmly behind a thick curtain of rain and lightning that lit up the night sky. The carriage stopped before the giant wooden gates, beyond which the stone staircase led up to the castle entrance. Without looking up, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Albert hurried into the brightly lit entrance hall, where the familiar marble staircase rose before them.
"If this rain keeps up," Ron muttered, shaking the water out of his drenched hair, "I'm sure the lake will overflow."
But before he could finish, a water balloon burst over his head, drenching him completely. Another one exploded near Harry's feet, splashing everywhere. The group stumbled and ran for cover from the watery assault and when Harry looked up, he saw Peeves, the school poltergeist, floating above them, his tiny body crowned with his little hat, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Target locked!" Peeves cried gleefully until he spotted Albert.
Instantly, his expression changed. Peeves zipped down, trying to hug Albert even though, being a ghost, Albert couldn't feel a thing.
"Ohhh, how lonely it's been without you, my dear friend Albert!" Peeves wailed dramatically. "I missed you so much!"
Albert couldn't help but smile, remembering the chaos he and Peeves had caused in his second year the infamous "Ghost Party" that had nearly driven Filch insane.
But their reunion didn't last long.
"PEEVES! PEEVES!" came the sharp, familiar voice of Professor McGonagall as she stormed into the hall. "Come down here at once!"
Peeves shrieked with laughter and darted upward just as she nearly slipped on the wet floor, managing to catch herself by grabbing Hermione's shoulder.
"My apologies, Miss Granger," she said briskly.
"It's all right, Professor," Hermione replied quickly.
McGonagall turned back toward the ceiling. "PEEVES! COME DOWN THIS INSTANT!"
"I'm not doing anything!" Peeves called back innocently, though he was already aiming another balloon toward a group of fifth-year girls hurrying to the Great Hall.
When McGonagall threatened, "I'll fetch the Headmaster!" Peeves stuck out his tongue, lobbed one last balloon at a pair of terrified second-years, and zipped away up the marble staircase, cackling madly.
"Come along now, everyone," McGonagall ordered, sounding tired but stern. "Into the Great Hall quickly!"
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Albert followed the rest of the students through the great double doors to the right. The Great Hall was, as always, breathtaking candles floated gracefully in the air above the long tables, their light shimmering on golden plates and goblets. Each of the four houses had its own table, and at the far end, the staff sat before the students.
It was warm and welcoming inside. The four friends found their usual seats at the Gryffindor table, near Nearly Headless Nick, the house ghost, who greeted them with his usual polite smile.
"Good evening!" he said cheerfully.
Harry returned the greeting, pulling off his soaked shoes and tipping out the water. "I just hope the Sorting ends quickly," he muttered. "I'm starving."
The Sorting Ceremony held every year to place new students into their houses was about to begin. Harry hadn't seen it since his own first year, and he was strangely eager to watch it again.
"Hi, Harry!" came a cheerful, high-pitched voice.
It was Colin Creevey, a third-year who idolized Harry.
"Hey, Colin," Harry said, smiling awkwardly.
"My brother Dennis is starting this year!" Colin announced proudly.
"That's… great," Harry replied.
Looking around, Harry noticed many empty seats Hagrid must be struggling to get the first-years across the lake in this weather. At the teachers' table, Professor McGonagall was drying the floor with her wand, while one other chair remained empty… though Harry couldn't tell whose it was.
"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked curiously.
A fair question no teacher had ever lasted more than a single year. The best, in Harry's opinion, had been Professor Lupin. Scanning the staff table, he saw no unfamiliar faces.
"Maybe they haven't found anyone yet," Hermione suggested.
Albert, twirling his wand idly, spoke up with quiet confidence:
"No, that's impossible. The school year can't begin without a Defense professor. I'd bet Dumbledore already appointed someone we just haven't seen them yet."
Harry glanced toward the staff again. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was chatting with Professor Sprout from Herbology, while Professor Sinistra from Astronomy sat nearby. On the opposite end sat Professor Snape his thin face, hooked nose, and lank black hair as unappealing as ever.
Harry's dislike for Snape burned as strong as ever only matched by Snape's hatred of him. That hatred had become crystal clear last year when Harry had helped Sirius Black escape. Snape had despised Sirius since their own student days.
Next to Snape sat the empty chair again perhaps McGonagall's, or the new professor's and beside that, in the center, sat Albus Dumbledore himself, his long silver beard and hair gleaming under the candlelight. His robes shimmered with deep blue and silver hues, embroidered with stars and moons, and his half-moon spectacles glinted as he gazed thoughtfully at the enchanted ceiling.
Harry followed his gaze upward. The ceiling mirrored the storm outside perfectly dark clouds swirled and lightning flashed across the enchanted dome.
Then Ron's stomach growled loudly.
"Harry, I'm starving," he groaned.
Before Harry could reply, the great doors opened again and silence fell over the hall.
Professor McGonagall led in the line of first-years. They were soaked to the bone, trembling with cold and nerves, clearly having had a miserable crossing of the lake. They lined up before the staff table, facing the rest of the school.
McGonagall placed a tattered, ancient hat on a stool. For a long, silent moment, it didn't move and then, suddenly, it began to sing.
The Sorting Hat's song told of Hogwarts' founding and the four founders Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin and the virtues each valued most.
When it finished, Professor McGonagall unrolled a long parchment and announced, "When I call your name, step forward, put on the hat, and wait to be sorted into your house. Let's begin Eckley, Stuart!"
A small boy stepped forward nervously, placed the hat on his head, and a moment later it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"
He hurried off to the Ravenclaw table, greeted by loud cheers and Harry spotted Cho Chang among them, smiling warmly at the new student. For a fleeting moment, Harry wished he were sitting over there too.
The ceremony went on, name after name, until McGonagall called, "Paddock, Malcolm!" "SLYTHERIN!" the hat declared
At last, the sorting ended.
Outside, the storm still raged; thunder rolled beyond the castle walls, lightning flashing across the enchanted ceiling.
Finally, Dumbledore rose to speak. His calm, commanding voice filled the hall:
"My dear students now that we have eaten and drunk our fill, I ask for your attention for a few brief announcements.
"First, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has added a number of new items to the list of banned objects within the castle. Those interested may review the complete list in his office.
"Second, I remind you all that the Forbidden Forest remains strictly off-limits to every student. Additionally, visits to Hogsmeade village are forbidden to anyone below third year.
"And lastly," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with faint regret, "I am sorry to inform you that the House Quidditch Cup will not be held this year."
"What?!" Harry gasped, turning to his teammates in disbelief.
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(Finally, they've reached Hogwarts — and soon, the exciting events will begin! Unfortunately, I injured my hand in a car accident five days ago and can't move it much, so I'll only publish two chapters I wrote earlier. !!)