The group of first years followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall, the immense doors closing behind them with a low rumble that seemed to echo through the ancient stone walls. Harry found himself momentarily overwhelmed by the grandeur of the hall. It was far more magnificent than anything he had ever imagined, even from the few wizarding newspapers he had read. The Great Hall stretched out before him, with its enchanted ceiling mimicking the night sky. Stars twinkled above, and wisps of clouds drifted lazily, as though the roof had vanished entirely.
Four long tables filled with students ran the length of the hall, each table representing one of the four houses. The students seated at the tables were dressed in their house colors, and their robes gleamed in the flickering candlelight that hovered in mid-air above them. Conversations buzzed around the room, but as the first years entered, a hush fell over the hall, and countless pairs of eyes turned toward them.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he looked up toward the staff table at the far end of the hall. There, seated at the center like a benevolent king on his throne, was Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him instantly from the photographs and articles he had seen. Dumbledore's long silver beard and half-moon spectacles made him easily identifiable, but it was the aura of calm power that surrounded him that truly captured Harry's attention. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as they swept across the hall, a small smile playing on his lips.
Harry's gaze moved to the other professors seated alongside Dumbledore. Some were stern-faced, others appeared friendly, but most were completely unknown to Harry. He had no idea who they were or what subjects they taught. For a moment, he felt a pang of nervousness—how was he supposed to navigate this world when he barely knew anything about it?
As the first years gathered at the front of the hall, near the staff table, they were instructed by Professor McGonagall to wait quietly. "When your name is called, you will come forward, put on the hat, and be sorted into your house," she said crisply. Her sharp gaze moved over them, making sure they understood the instructions.
Harry glanced around at his fellow first years, noticing how many of them looked just as nervous as he felt. A few were muttering to each other in low voices, and he overheard one boy from the back muttering nervously, "Do you think it'll hurt? Getting sorted, I mean?"
Another voice responded, equally anxious, "I heard you have to fight a troll!"
Harry smiled faintly to himself. It seemed even in the wizarding world, kids found ways to scare each other with tales of terrifying challenges. But he knew enough to guess that the Sorting Ceremony wasn't going to involve anything quite so dramatic. His mind was already made up about where he wanted to be. Gryffindor, just like his parents. But as he stood there, waiting for his name to be called, he couldn't shake a growing sense of unease.
He watched as the first few students were sorted. "Abbott, Hannah!" was the first name called. A girl with blonde pigtails stepped forward, trembling slightly. She sat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. After a brief pause, the hat declared, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hufflepuff table erupted into cheers as Hannah hurried over to join them.
Soon it was Susan's turn to get sorted."Bones, Susan," who also ended up in Hufflepuff. As more names were called and more students were sorted, Harry found himself growing increasingly tense. It wasn't fear of the unknown that bothered him; it was the attention. He knew that when his name was called, every single person in this hall would be watching him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out,
"Potter, Harry!"
The Great Hall fell into a sudden, deafening silence. It was as if the very air had been sucked out of the room. Every head turned to look at Harry, every eye fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and perhaps a little bit of fear. Whispers immediately broke out, some students craning their necks to get a better look at him.
"There he is!"
"Is that really him?"
"The Boy Who Lived…"
Harry could feel his face growing warm under the weight of their stares, but he refused to let it show. Summoning all his courage, he straightened his back and walked confidently toward the stool where the Sorting Hat waited. His heart was pounding in his chest, but his face remained impassive. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him nervous.
As he sat down on the stool, Professor McGonagall gently placed the Sorting Hat on his head. The hat slipped down over his eyes, plunging him into darkness. For a moment, all he could hear was the murmur of the students and the pounding of his own heart.
Then, a voice spoke in his ear, quiet and thoughtful.
"Ah, another Potter… But not just any Potter, I see. My, my, what a mind you have. So many layers, so much potential…"
Harry stiffened. The hat was speaking directly into his mind, and he hadn't expected it to feel so… personal. He had known the Sorting Hat could speak, but this felt like the hat was probing the very depths of his soul."
Now, where to put you?" the hat mused, its tone light and almost playful. "You have talent, oh yes. And knowledge—more than most your age. You've learned much on your own, haven't you? And such ambition… You could be great, you know. Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness."
Harry felt a jolt of panic. Slytherin? The thought of being sorted into the house that had produced so many dark wizards, including Voldemort himself, was horrifying. He had always imagined himself in Gryffindor, just like his parents. Gryffindor was where heroes went, where brave and noble wizards thrived. That's where he belonged.
"No," Harry thought firmly. "Not Slytherin. I want to be in Gryffindor, like my parents."
"Ah, your parents," the hat responded thoughtfully. "Yes, they were both Gryffindors. Brave and true, both of them. But you… you're not quite the same, are you? You have qualities they didn't. Slytherin could help you use those qualities to your advantage. You could achieve greatness, Harry. And greatness, as you know, is not to be underestimated.
"Harry's mind raced. He didn't want greatness if it meant becoming like Voldemort or any of the dark wizards who had come from Slytherin. He had seen enough darkness in his life already. He just wanted to be a good wizard, like his parents. But the hat wasn't giving up so easily.
"It wouldn't be a Slytherin move to get sorted into Slytherin, would it?" Harry argued. "If I go there, people will think I'm just another dark wizard in the making. They'll expect me to follow in Voldemort's footsteps."
The hat chuckled, a low, amused sound. "You're more Slytherin than you think, Harry. You're clever, resourceful, and you understand how the world works. You know that appearances matter, and that sometimes, it's better to play along with people's expectations rather than against them. But remember, greatness doesn't always come from following the expected path."
Harry clenched his fists in frustration under the hat. "I don't want to be seen as the next Dark Lord. I want to prove that I can be good, that I can be brave—like my parents. Put me in Gryffindor."
The hat sighed, its voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "Very well, if that's what you truly wish. But remember, Harry, greatness can come from the choices we make. You have potential, and it will be tested, no matter where you go."
There was a pause, and then the hat shouted aloud, "GRYFFINDOR!"
The hall erupted into applause and cheers, particularly from the Gryffindor table.
Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him as Professor McGonagall lifted the hat from his head. He stood up, trying to ignore the lingering whispers and curious glances from the other students, and made his way over to the Gryffindor he approached, he was met with a chorus of excited voices.
"We've got Potter! We've got Harry Potter!" someone shouted triumphantly.
Harry settled into his seat at the Gryffindor table, feeling a sense of familiarity as he found himself surrounded by people he already knew. Hermione Granger, who had shared a compartment with him on the train, greeted him with a bright smile.
"Congratulations, Harry!" Hermione said warmly, her eyes full of excitement. "I knew you'd be in Gryffindor with us!"
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry replied, returning her smile. He was genuinely glad to see her there. Traveling together had already formed a bond between them, and he felt comfortable in her company.
He noticed Neville Longbottom sitting a few seats down, looking both relieved and pleased with his own sorting into Gryffindor. Harry gave him a nod, and Neville waved back shyly.
Earlier, Harry had seen Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott being sorted into Hufflepuff. He was happy for them, even though they wouldn't be in the same house. Susan had struck up a conversation with another Hufflepuff student, fitting in seamlessly despite her initial nerves. He felt a little pang of regret that they wouldn't be in Gryffindor with him, but he knew they'd be fine in Hufflepuff.
As Harry settled in, he couldn't help but be aware of Ron Weasley sitting further down the table, his face flushed with excitement from his own sorting. Harry made a deliberate choice not to sit near him. He remembered too well how Ron used to make fun of Luna Lovegood, a girl Harry considered like a sister. Ron had referred to her as "Loony Lovegood" whenever she went to his house to play with his sister Ginny Weasley, and that had soured Harry's impression of him immediately.
On top of that, Ron's brash attitude and almost-fight with Draco Malfoy before the sorting ceremony had solidified Harry's decision. He didn't want to be around someone who was quick to anger and prone to trouble. Harry had enough on his plate without adding unnecessary drama.
As the sorting continued, Harry found himself more at ease. He exchanged a few words with Hermione and Neville, both of whom were just as excited as he was about the feast laid out before them. The food was incredible, and for a while, they all indulged in the delicious spread, their earlier nerves fading away with every bite.
Throughout the feast, Harry watched with amusement as Hermione devoured every sugary treat in sight, sampling sweets from every corner of the table. Curious, he finally asked, "Why are you eating so much sugar?"
Hermione looked up with a grin. "You know, Harry, my parents are dentists."
Harry nodded. "Yes, I know what dentists are."
Hermione continued, "Well, since my parents are dentists, they always restricted me from eating too much sugar. But now that I'm a witch, there's no dentist for wizards. We have potions that can remove and regrow teeth in just a day. So, with no consequences, I figure there's no harm in enjoying sweets now."
Neville, who had overheard their conversation, looked puzzled. He asked Harry, "What are dentists?"
Harry explained, "In the Muggle world, it's different from the magical world. While we have healers for everything in magic, in the Muggle world, you have specialists like skin doctors, tooth doctors, bone doctors etc and Hermione's parents are tooth doctors . So, that's why Hermione's excited to eat sweets now."
Neville nodded, understanding. He returned to his food, while Harry enjoyed the feast, marveling at how Hogwarts' house elves could prepare such incredible dishes. Despite his usual control, he found himself indulging more than he intended.
Throughout the meal, Harry couldn't help but feel grateful that he had already formed connections with Hermione and Neville. It made the overwhelming experience of the Sorting and the Great Hall a little easier to handle. He found comfort in their presence, knowing that they had each other's back.
Yet, even as he laughed and talked with Hermione and Neville, the Sorting Hat's words echoed in his mind.
"Greatness can come from the choices we make."
Harry knew that the choices he made from here on out would define his path. He was determined to choose wisely, surrounding himself with people who truly mattered, and proving that he could be a wizard his parents would be proud of.
And no matter what challenges lay ahead, he felt ready to face them—because he wasn't alone. He had friends who understood him, and that made all the difference.