A Memorable Tale

2 | Meeting Expectations

The Great Hall should've been called something far more spectacular.

The ceiling was bewitched to appear as a night sky, candle hovering in the air, all of it giving me inspiration for my bedroom back home.

"When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses," Professor McGonagall said.

She raised the piece of parchment in her hand. "Hermione Granger!"

I glanced at her as her nervousness became more apparent, the whispers to herself giving it away.

She sat down on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. After a few mumbles of contemplation, it announced, "Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor's table erupted in applause as she took her seat amongst those fashioning red and gold ties.

"Draco Malfoy," Professor McGonagall called up next.

He sat down on the stool and the Sorting Hat barely touched his head when it yelled out, "Slytherin!"

With a proud strut, Draco walked past me and I held out my hand for him to high-five. He had practically been praying for that result, and it seemed like even the Sorting Hat wanted him dressed in green.

After a couple more, one being Hufflepuff, the Weasley boy obviously being put in Gryffindor (which caused way too many red heads at the Gryffindor table to stand in applause), I heard the familiar name.

"Harry Potter."

Headmaster Dumbledore, one that every living and perhaps every dead wizard had learned the name of, leaned forward in anticipation.

Harry took a seat on the stool, his eyes closed as if in prayer, with the Sorting Hat mumbling once again. "Better be... Gryffindor!"

The loud cheers, whistles, and claps from the table could be rivalled by no other.

I sighed. Everyone going after Harry may as well be ignored.

"Y/N Griffin."

I heard quiet oohs from the Hufflepuff table and I glanced over, spotting someone I had a vague idea the identity of smiling. They had probably told their friends about me.

See, I wasn't as impressive as Harry - after all, I hadn't survived an Unforgivable Curse when I was a baby.

My father was the impressive one.

He was the head of the Department of Mysteries at the ripe age of 19, youngest to ever be. Him being the head made it so he was essentially the only person whose identity was public, but whose work was not.

Everything within the Department of Mysteries was completely confidential, even to the Minister of Magic. The only thing I knew was how the department room looked like.

He also created a charm that had similar properties to the anti-cheating charm put on our quills before tests, but it worked on people, but the first two or three that it was tested on ended up trying to spill their whole life story without pausing for a breath.

You can see why that's not one of his best works, but it got him connected with the Malfoys.

I sighed and sat down on the stool, feeling the hat rest itself upon my head.

"Ah... you're a Griffin, I see. Well, it'd be quite silly to put you in Gryffindor, wouldn't it?"

"Hey, I like a sense of humour. Hit me."

The hat seemed to laugh, which was partially horrifying and partially fascinating.

"Well, I know exactly where that brain of yours is going. Ravenclaw!"