Chapter 3 : The sorting
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Disclaimer ~ I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Nazo Shima or Karma tyme. In fact, I think Meladylord owns me. Crap. Ahh, well, I do own Syra! ^o^ This makes me happy. PARTY!
I stood staring wistfully at the back of Sylka Geremone’s silvery head behind two huge doors. Sylka was ahead of me, and stood behind Nazo Shima and Melissa Prier.
All four of us were transfers from two different schools, and all four of us were standing alone in the hall, waiting to be called out and sorted into four houses. I quickly got anxious. Who was that bitter boy in the corridor in the train? Sirius Black had said something about Slytherins, and Nazo quickly assumed that all Slytherins were bad. What if I was called out to be a Slytherin? What would happen then? Nazo couldn’t possibly become one of them—she’s too loony. But me…? I wouldn’t have any direction! I’ve never been anywhere in this world without Nazo! What would I do?
By the time the doors were opened, I was in a severe state of panic. I didn’t show it of course, that’s against my nature. What would I do if I was away from Nazo? What would happen if these people figure out I’m not normal? Worse, what’d happen if I…
“Syra Arias!” McGonagall called. Who? That’s my name! I had to recognize it from some place. Oh shoot, I can’t move. Move, dammit!
Something poked me hard in the back so that I almost jumped. “Move up,” he said. Not cruelly, but not in a ‘oh, whoops I’m sorry the tip of my pen put a hole in your robes’ kind of way.
Wait, had he been there before?
Never mind. I was out of my mind, who cared anymore?
I stepped up, a little hesitantly might I add, to the stool set in front of the entire student body. I turned. I sat. And the hat was placed on my head.
And started talking to me.
I might’ve leapt out of my chair screaming, but that would’ve led people to think that I was crazy, which I’m not. Then what would happen? Either way, I had to get into the same group as Nazo. Where was she…? I scanned around, but I couldn’t find her among the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws.
“You’re looking for your friend, I see,” the hat remarked. I didn’t exactly know what to do, so I nodded slightly. Thankfully, the hat went on.
“You’re desperate for direction here, are you? There are some very interesting students in Ravenclaw. Ahh, ambition?” it said. I kept myself still this time, but it rambled on about ambition and loyalty and whatnot. I wasn’t paying much attention, so I didn’t know how to respond to his last remark, whatever it was. “I’ve decided. You’ll make some interesting friends in this class,” then it paused, and I held my breath.
“GRYFFINDOR!” The entire table exploded. I mean, I’ve never seen so many people excited to have me as a part of them, as a part of their team, their group. It felt good to have the other Gryffindors thump me on the back, saying ‘welcome, welcome!” I was so excited I almost forgot about Nazo. By the way, where was that girl? I needed her.
I sat down at the big pretty green table. With. No. Food.
It might be wrong to eat while an important thing is going on. It might be wrong to forget about showing Syra through this weirdo place, but I Wanted Food.
I hate waiting.
Syra’s up next. No doubt she’ll make it into Slytherin. She’s always so quiet, and I think she’d eval. Not evil, eval. It’s cooler ‘cause it’s not spelled right. I’m smrt! Oh, she’s not a pureblood witch. I looked up to the podium. Oops, I seemed to have overlooked something.
Don’t hurt me, Sy.
Maybe she’ll make it, I thought.
The mystical weirdo hat called out ‘Gryffindor’ but I wasn’t paying attention anymore by then. Oh well.
It was over. All the transfers were sorted. I got into Slytherin, just like Melon-head. (If you want to use real names, then fine. Melissa Prier. Eww!) Syra seemed to get into Gryffindor, and the Sylka girl was put in Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff didn’t get anybody, they must not be special. Ha ha. Now give me food.
“There is one last transfer student,” McGonagall interrupted rather rudely, just as the food was going to appear, too! How rude.
“He is a student coming from, Spain is it, Mr. Tyme?” she continued, still very rude to keep my tummy waiting. Wait.
My head snapped up. Tyme? No. No way… it had to be a mistake, or maybe Tyme was a pretty popular name. Yeah. That had to be it. I couldn’t see him anyway, so it wasn’t important. There was no way Karma followed me here.
McGonagall lifted the hat again. “Karma Tyme,” she said.
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