Soon, the boats floated underneath a stone archway under the mountain and into a large tunnel. Hagrid yelled for us to keep our heads low as we passed underneath, but soon we had pulled up to a rocky shore, where the boats stopped with a gentle bump. Colin, Michael and I jumped off the boat, happy to be on flat ground again. Next, we all followed Hagrid up a stone passageway to the ground, which brought us to the grassy grounds right around the castle. The gamekeeper led us to a large door, where we all squeezed up the short stairs right outside it. Hagrid knocked, and presently a stern woman opened the door. She wore deep blue robes and smiled curtly at us.
“Thank you, Hagrid,” she said. He stepped aside. To the rest of us, she said, “My name is Professor McGonagall. Would you please follow me?” We all obeyed as she turned on her heel and walked down the large hall that the big door led to.
I couldn’t help staring at my new surroundings as I walked click-clack along with the rest of the new students. The great thick castle walls, the tapestries, the paintings… it was as if it were out of a fairy tale. I shrunk back as something very transparent slid through the wall in front of us. Some other people gawked, but I was scared. I clutched Michael’s sleeve. “It's just a ghost,” he said. I quickly withdrew my hand.
Looking behind me, I noticed the red-haired girl from Flourish and Blots. She looked excited, as if she’d been looking forward to this for a long time. I wish I shared her feeling, but at that moment, I was feeling less excitement and more fear. I nervously gripped the edges of my school robes, which would soon have a little embossed image on them. Looking down at the sleeves, I sighed. They were still a bit too long, despite the fact that they had been pinned against my own tiny figure.
After a moment of sitting a small room, Professor McGonagall marched us in a neat line into the Great Hall, which I recognized immediately from reading Hogwarts, A History. Four long tables filled with students lay in front of us. We walked in between the two middle ones, heading for a smaller, raised one at the head of the room with adults I assumed to be the school teachers. Suddenly, we stopped and formed a small crowd in front of a worn three-legged stool. On it sat a battered old wizard’s hat. McGonagall approached it and turned to us.
Out of nowhere, a rip in the hat pulled itself open. My heart skipped a beat as it somehow began to sing. I listened, then remembered a passage from the book in which it explained this event. It was the sorting hat, and it always sang a song before each sorting. I relaxed and listened as it talked about the founders of the school and the qualities that each house resembled.
“Please come forward when I call your names,” she announced looking through her glasses at us piercingly. A man with a long, silver beard caught my eye.
“Adder, Priscilla,” she said. A girl on my left with a squashed face stumbled over to the stool and waited. After a pause, she snatched it up and put it on her head. Seating herself firmly on the stool, she wobbled slightly as the hat twitched.
With no warning, the hat screeched, “Slytherin!” I jumped. Michael looked at me. One of the tables broke into applause as Hannah made her way over to them.
“Are you okay?” he said, frowning again. I nodded, balling my hands into fists to steady myself.
“Clearwater, Hannah,” McGonagall exclaimed. Another girl approached the hat. Presently, the hat yelled out, “Ravenclaw!” A different table began clapping for the girl as she joined them, looking extremely pleased.
Soon, Corner, Michael was called (“Ravenclaw!”) followed by Creevey, Colin (“Gryffindor!”). Then, later on, Lovegood, Luna (“Ravenclaw!”) was called forward. I waited for McGonagall to say Murley, Susan, but nothing happened. She went right on to Pitt, David (“Hufflepuff!”). My heart skipped a beat. My quick mind at work, I knew instantly that something was wrong. I had been skipped. Students all around me were slowly stepping up to the stool and getting sorted into their houses. The redhead was still behind me, as well as a few others, but I was rapidly loosing focus. It was only a matter of time before I was upset enough for everyone to notice. I cast around for something to do, and my eyes fell on the man sitting at the middle of the staff table. He was watching me calmly. Something about those eyes made me stop fidgeting. I clasped my hands behind me, bewildered.
Before I had a chance to come up with something, Professor McGonagall spoke. “Sholt, Susan.”
I froze. Sholt. Susan. That was me. But my last name was Murley, and Sholt was my mother’s name…
Something propelled me to step forward, unsteadily, and pick up the old hat. I sat on the stool, and placed it on my head. I sat, my mind nearly exploding with confusion and curiosity. As I waited, I could have sworn I heard a soft “Hmm…” It was only a short time before the hat spat out, “Gryffindor!”
Amidst cheering, I stood up. I fumbled as I removed the hat. Looking around uncertainly, I saw McGonagall smiling at me. Encouraged, I walked as quickly as I could over to the table and sat down near the end. Some students near me patted me on the back. “Congratulations!” they said. I smiled at them as best I could. To my left, I noticed more redheads. They all had similar freckles. I decided that it must be one large family. Maybe it was the Malfoys? I shuddered, then remembered that Malfoys belonged in Slytherin.
I looked up as the redheaded girl sat down next to me. She smiled brightly. “I’m Ginny Weasley,” she said.
“I’m Susan,” I replied. “Susan… Sholt.” Somehow, I was no longer Susan Murley.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. She waved to the other redheads.
“Those are my brothers. Well, some of them,” she said, and her smile faded. She glanced up and down the table, but didn’t seem to find what she was looking for.
“Are you a Pureblood?” I blurted out, surprising even myself.
She looked at me quizzically, but replied, “Yes. How about you?”
“I’m a Halfblood,” I said, wondering why I had brought it up.
“Really? It’s just like Harry Potter! Are both of your parents magical?”
I didn’t know who Harry Potter was, though I’d seen mention of him in some of the newer books I’d found in Melinda’s collection. “Well, no. My mum is a witch, but my dad isn’t. He’s a Muggle,” I explained, glad I knew the word. She seemed to accept this.
“I see. It’s not… exactly like Harry Potter, but it’s pretty close,” she said. I nodded, though I still didn’t know why she kept talking about him, whoever he was.
The man with the silver beard stood up. “That’s Professor Dumbledore,” whispered Ginny. “He’s our Headmaster.”
So this was Albus Dumbledore. I’d also seen references to him in my books. He’d invented something important to do with dragon blood. He surveyed his students. Somehow, his eyes ended up on me. I squirmed slightly. He must have known somehow that I no longer could call Eric my father. He must have known I didn’t feel like I wanted to be related to him anymore. He’d used my mother’s maiden name, the name of an old wizard family…
“Welcome, students,” he said. His eyes left me and looked merrily at the whole room once more. “It’s a new year, and I’m glad to see each and every one of you. Now, please, help yourself to our delicious feast!” As he spoke, the tables magically filled themselves with food. I gaped as Ginny squealed excitedly and reached for the serving spoon.
“Oh, well done, Ginny!” a girl with bushy brown hair across the table squealed as she filled her goblet with an orange drink. “I just knew you’d be put into Gryffindor.” She smiled, revealing pearly white teeth. The two in the front were slightly too big. Ginny beamed.
“Thanks, Hermione!” she said, scooping potatoes onto her plate. Hermione turned to me.
“I’m Hermione. You’re… Susan?” she asked, tipping her head to one side.
I wasn’t used to so much attention. Shrinking into my seat, I nodded and reached for a roll of bread. Hermione paid no attention to my shy disposition.
“That’s lovely. I’ve read all about the ancient wizarding families. Though you won’t find Granger on the list, I’m proud to be a witch,” she said happily. I took a bite of food. Ginny swallowed loudly.
“Where are Harry and Ron?” she asked. Hermione sighed and took a bite of turkey.
“Well, I don’t know,” she admitted. “They didn’t show up on the platform. Mind you, your parents were immediately upset when they saw the barrier locked up. We all just assumed they’d come on when we weren’t looking and gotten onto the train by themselves. But I don’t see them.” She looked around to confirm her statement. Ginny made an irritated noise.
“Wherever they are, Ron’s going to get it from Mum,” she said soberly. Hermione nodded. I didn’t even have to ask who Harry and Ron were. Harry must be Harry Potter, and Ron was obviously the other redhead, the boy I’d seen in Flourish and Blotts, and Ginny’s brother. How many siblings did Ginny have?
“So, Susan,” Ginny said. “Aren’t you glad to be here? I know I am.”
“Yes,” I said truthfully, realizing that I was glad. Mum was proud of me, and I was away from Eric. Far away. “I’m looking forward to classes,” I added. Ginny shrugged.
“I guess I am, too,” she said. Hermione turned to me.
“Oh, I love the classes! You just wait, the material is fascinating,” she said excitedly. Ginny rolled her eyes, but I doubt anyone besides me noticed.
“Do you like school?” Ginny asked me.
“Yes. Back at home, I didn’t do much else,” I said, relaxing a little. Hermione nodded vigorously.
“Me, too. And Hogwarts is a great place. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
I smiled, grateful for her remark.
“Oy! Ginny!” one of the redheads down the table yelled. He and the boy next to him grinned. They were obviously twins.
“Hi Fred! And George,” Ginny said, waving at them.
“We knew you’d get into Gryffindor,” George said.
“Well, at least, we assumed you would, but you never know,” Fred added. Ginny laughed and went back to her food.
We ate happily and talked a bit. I tried to feel like the brave Gryffindor lion mentioned in the Sorting Hat’s song and contribute to the conversation as much as possible. However, Ginny did most of the talking. After a time, I set down my fork and took a last sip of the orange drink, which I found out was pumpkin juice. Everyone around me was finished eating. They chatted peacefully amongst themselves, but fell silent when Albus Dumbledore stood up again.
“That was a wonderful feast. But, now that we’ve all filled our stomachs, let me say a few things that you all should know. The Forbidden Forest is still forbidden, and Mr. Filch would like me to remind you all that he, too, is capable of giving out punishments for use of magic in the hallways. Please remember to glance at his list of prohibited objects, as well. Oh, and one final thing: there are a few spots open on the various house Quidditch teams, so tryouts will be occurring very soon. That said, everyone follow your prefects to the dormitories. Once again, welcome back.” He sat down, smiling at us. The hall was immediately full of the noise of people standing up and talking with their friends.
Ginny and I walked over to the door, where Hermione met up with us. I had gathered that she was a year above me and Ginny, but I didn’t mind. My interest in school studies matched hers. We walked out of the hall, me gazing at all of the paintings while Hermione babbled on about her summer homework. After climbing several sets of staircases that swung back and forth, we arrived in front of a large portrait, fondly called the Fat Lady by the people in front of me. The female prefect said something and the door swung open. I followed the crowd inside and found myself in a circular common room, with a roaring fire and many cozy armchairs. Hermione pointed to a staircase of to the side. “That’s where the girls sleep,” she said. I yawned and followed her and Ginny over to it. Hermione said goodbye to us as we stepped inside the first door we came to.
The room was bare, containing only a few empty beds. A few moments later, three other girls burst into the room, giggling and looking frazzled. These were our roommates, and I immediately felt awkward. Should I introduce myself?
“Oh, hello,” said Ginny, smiling slightly. She tensed as one of the girls looked her over and didn’t smile in return.
“Hello. I’m Colleen,” she said loudly, nudging her friend. The third girl was already moving towards one of the beds. I took a step back. They didn’t like me already.
“I’m May,” the other one said in a soft voice, putting on a smile. Ginny bristled slightly. Why were they looking at us like we were stupid?
“That’s Paige, over there,” Colleen said, still speaking loudly as though I was deaf. Paige shot Colleen a look over her shoulder. May yawned widely.
“Do we just choose a bed, then?” May asked.
“I guess,” said Ginny, turning away. “I’ll take this one. Want to be next to me, Susan?” I nodded immediately and went for my trunk, which was sitting with the others in the middle of the room. I strained to drag it to my bed. Colleen reached for her trunk, then turned to me. With an impatient noise, she shoved my trunk towards me. Absorbing the weight of the push, my back hit the wooden frame of the bed with a thunk.
“Ouch!” I yelped, before I could stop myself. Tears began to fill my eyes as heat rose in my cheeks. I covered my face and retreated into my bunk, shaking slightly. Colleen took no notice, only kicking her trunk off to the side. Ginny stopped unfolding a pair of pajamas and whirled to face Colleen.
“What are you on about?” she demanded. I sobbed quietly, letting out all my anxiety and all of my fear. Colleen ignored Ginny. May tittered uncertainly and Paige looked slightly apprehensive.
Colleen turned to face Ginny. Drawing herself up to her full height, she looked down at Ginny, who was more than three inches shorter than herself. Paige averted her eyes. “I was tired of waiting,” Colleen said matter-of-factly. “Susan tripped, that’s all.” Ginny’s hands balled into fists.
“Don’t”I tripped,” I broke in. Ginny didn’t need to get in trouble. I began repeating to myself, trying to convince myself that it was true. “I… tripped.” Ginny didn’t move. Colleen went back to getting ready for bed. Paige was frozen in the act of picking up a shirt. Noticing a set of red curtains for the first time that hung conveniently on the four-poster, I pulled them shut. Closing my eyes for a moment, I took a few deep breaths. Opening my eyes, I saw Misty. She was sitting on the far end of the bed, eyes glittering in the semi-darkness. “Come,” I whispered, holding out my hand. Obediently, the cat flowed into my lap. Stroking her fur, I relaxed. Presently, the sound of trunks opening and closing stopped. Silence fell over the room.
“Susan?” Ginny said softly. I did nothing. Maybe she would think I was asleep.
Whether or not she believed I was awake, Ginny didn’t call for me again.
When I was sure that everyone was asleep, I put Misty next to me on the bed and pushed the curtains aside. My trunk was where I left it. I opened it carefully and extracted a pair of pajamas that was on top of the rest of my clothes. I quietly slipped into them. When I moved to shut my trunk, the moving photograph of Mum, the one as a child holding her mother’s hand, caught my eye. Misty purred quietly as I crawled back into my bed and shut the curtains. For a while, I stayed awake, staring at the picture, watching Mum sway back and forth on her heels, smiling at whoever was taking the picture. Eventually, I drifted off, with Misty purring all the while.