Neville nervously rubbed the back of his right calf with his left foot and kept his head down as the other first-years crowded around about him at the entrance to the Great Hall. Trapped in this mass of other people milling about him and chatting to each other, he felt acutely and bizarrely alone and isolated. Hermione was a short way in front of him, looking somewhat nervous herself, but they had become separated in the crowd. Now everyone was waiting to be led into the Hall for the Sorting Ceremony.
Neville had enjoyed the boat ride across the lake from the station, though less when a boy at the front of his boat had decided to see how much he could rock it without it capsizing. Neville just held on tightly and tried to concentrate on the shoreline until Hagrid had yelled at the boy to stop. Like everyone else he had been blown away by his first sight of Hogwarts castle emerging out of the darkness on the cliff above them. It really was a beautiful sight in the moonlight.
However, up close Neville found he liked it less. The sheer scale of it seemed to him daunting and frightening as they had walked in through the huge front doors and into the vast entrance hall. He pictured himself getting hopelessly lost, wandering the corridors forever, unable to find a way out. To avoid coping with all this size, he stared straight at the floor and was bumped and barged by several other children around him.
“Excuse me, may I have your attention please,” said a stern, loud female voice. Neville finally looked up. A tall, dark-haired, elderly looking witch wearing spectacles and a very serious expression had appeared in front of them. “Keep quiet there, stand still,” she snapped at the few remaining children who hadn’t heard her the first time. Neville was slightly reminded of Gran, which worried him somewhat. The witch introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and gave them a few pointed words of advice about their behaviour (which Neville didn’t listen to as he was now even more nervous and anyway she now seemed even more like Gran). Then with a word she opened the double doors to the Great Hall and led them in silently.
If the Entrance Hall to Hogwarts had scared Neville the Great Hall was even worse. It was huge, wide and tall and packed with people. Four benches running the length of the hall held the students of the four Houses. Neville felt very self-conscious as he walked up between the benches to the far end. He couldn’t resist looking upwards, and wished he hadn’t. The Hall appeared to have no roof and Neville stared straight up into the night sky, with twinkling stars. He hurriedly looked down again.
But now they had reached the front of the Hall, and Professor McGonagall had brought out the Sorting Hat and placed it on a stool in front of the high table whereon sat all the professors. The Sorting Hat burst into song about its function and the four Houses, and afterwards McGonagall offered a few words of explanation, but Neville wasn’t listening. He’d been told all about the Sorting Ceremony by Gran and he knew what to expect. He was rather looking at the high table, and the odd motley array of witches and wizards sitting there.
He recognised Dumbledore immediately, sitting in the centre with an apparently bored look on his face and absently picking at his fingernails. He also recognised one more, the young wizard he’d seen in the Leaky Cauldron a month before. Only this time, he was wearing an absurd-looking turban on his head, completely covering his hair. He was talking to a sallow-faced, ugly looking wizard with dark, greasy hair and a contemptuous expression on his face, who was barely deigning to acknowledge him and was instead scanning the line of first-years intently. Neville had the oddest feeling the wizard was looking for him and he turned away quickly.
He realised the Sorting Ceremony had now begun, and the first students had already gone under the Hat. To cheers from the various House tables they hurried off to meet their new classmates. Neville found the whole thing rather boring and was itching to get to his turn. With a name stuck in the middle of the alphabet he had to wait and fidgeted on the spot, trying to avoid looking up at the sallow-faced teacher.
His boredom was relieved temporarily when Seamus and Hermione were sorted in fairly quick succession, but he was disappointed when the Hat assigned both of them to Gryffindor (though Hermione seemed to take some time). He sighed, and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table. They seemed friendly enough people, cheering loudly each time they gained a new member and welcoming the newcomer warmly. They expect hard work out of Hufflepuffs, he thought. Well, at least if I try hard, Gran can’t really complain.
“Neville Longbottom,” shouted Professor McGonagall. “NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!” Neville started suddenly. He hadn’t been listening, and now everyone was staring at him. It was his turn. Utterly terrified and once more looking at the floor, he crept his way forward, feeling hundreds of eyes burning into the back of his head. Suddenly his scar flamed with pain, and his hand shot up to his forehead. He lifted his head, and there was the sallow-faced teacher, staring straight at him next to the young teacher with the turban. Sore, frightened and incredibly nervous, Neville gingerly sat down on the stool and closed his eyes as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.
“Hmm, hmm, let me see,” said a strange mellow voice that seemed to echo from inside his head. “Well, well, you are a most curious one for sure. So you think you’re a Hufflepuff, do you? Why, I wonder?”
Neville squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of the Hat. “Because I don’t belong anywhere else,” he thought.
“I thought you might say that,” said the Hat. “But there’s far more to you than meets the eye, or there would be if I had one. There’s honesty and diligence there, to be sure. But I sense a conflict deep inside you, and you are fighting hard, yes hard and with courage.”
“Courage?” thought Neville, amazed.
“There are many forms of courage. The strongest, however, comes from within and is never seen, but carries those who have it through the greatest of trials. If you would take my advice, nurture that courage, not with great deeds but in the ordinary challenges of life. The great deeds will take care of themselves. And so I do my duty…” “GRYFFINDOR!” screamed the Hat aloud.
It was only at this point that Neville realised that the whole hall was completely silent, waiting for the Hat to make its decision. There was a seemingly endless uncomfortable pause. Then the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and applause. Bewildered and confused, Neville staggered down from the front of the hall to the cheering Gryffindors, who clapped him on the back and shoulders. He sought out Hermione, who made space for him next to her and Seamus. “Congratulations!” she said, beaming.
“Great to have you with us,” said Seamus. Neville looked up and down the table and saw that virtually everyone was whispering about him and occasionally giving him a thumbs-up when he looked in their direction. They’re proud to have me, thought Neville. They all know my reputation. It’ll be terrible when I start to disappoint them.
Two boys were now clambering over the backs of other students towards Neville. They were absolutely identical looking, solidly built with flame-red hair and manic, cheeky grins. They pushed aside a couple of complaining boys and settled themselves in opposite Neville.
“The Boy-Who-Lived! We had to meet you,” said the first. “Welcome to Gryffindor! Best House in Hogwarts, as everyone knows, though they don’t admit it.”
“We like to think of ourselves as the house mascots,” said the second. “He’s Fred.”
“And I’m George,” said the first. “No, wait, I’m Fred.”
“And he’s George,” said the second. They then both burst into howls of laughter. Neville felt horribly confused. “Sorry about that,” said the second, seeing Neville’s expression. “I really am George. We’re the famous Weasley twins.”
“Infamous, please George. Infamous Weasley twins,” said Fred. “We’ve a reputation to uphold. So, Neville, anything we can tell you, anything we can help you out with, let us know.”
“Well…” said Neville, but at that moment clapping had broken out on the table yet again and George tapped Fred’s shoulder and pointed. “Hey, it’s Harry! Harry got into Gryffindor!” Neville looked up and saw a boy with unkempt dark hair and glasses making his down to their table from the front. Neville recognised him. He’d seen him on the train earlier when he’d lost Trevor. “Hey Harry!” yelled George. “Over here!” The boy heard him and hurried over to them and sat down. “Great one Harry!” said Fred. “I knew we’d be getting you. Neville, this is Harry Potter. He’s a friend of our dopey kid brother Ron. Don’t ask me why.”
Harry grinned good-naturedly. “They’re always like this,” he said. “I hope they haven’t been bothering you.”
“No, no,” said Neville.
“Hey, we haven’t had a chance yet,” complained Fred. Hermione gave him a stern look. “What’s up with you?” Fred asked.
“Who’s Ron?” asked Seamus, trying to get in on the conversation. Harry turned round and indicated another red-haired boy with his hands in his pockets, milling around with the few remaining unsorted first-years. “Do you think he’ll be in Gryffindor as well?” asked Seamus.
“He’d better be,” said Fred. “All our family have been in Gryffindor. Even Percy.” He pointed dismissively towards a serious-looking older boy proudly wearing a prefect’s badge. “Six boys, seven if you count Harry here, the amount of time he spends at our house. And little Ginny still to come.”
“Wow,” said Seamus, impressed. The twins fell into an easy manner of talking about their family, their own exploits and Hogwarts in general. Neville listened for a while, but soon found himself drifting off and no longer paying attention. He felt tired and drained after such a long day, and hungry as well. He hardly noticed when Ron was indeed sorted into Gryffindor and joined them at the table. Ron and Harry fell to talking amongst themselves as old friends and all those around them were chatting away and making new friends. Except himself and Hermione, who was looking equally out of place. When the Sorting was finished and the feast began, Neville just tucked straight in and largely ignored the goings on around him.
When they’d finished, Professor Dumbledore got up and said a few words, but by now Neville wasn’t listening to anything. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go off somewhere quiet and alone and go to sleep. As everyone got up to leave, Hermione had to nudge Neville and drag him along as they made the long trek up through the castle to Gryffindor tower. Wearily he trudged up seemingly endless stairs behind everyone until they reached the Gryffindor common room. It was a beautiful ornate room, but Neville hardly noticed. As the girls were led away to their dormitory, Hermione gave him a wave goodbye, which Neville returned half-heartedly.
Then it was up further stairs to the boy’s dormitory where they all found their beds and belongings. Neville unpacked his stuff and looked after Trevor for a while, as the other boys explored. Then quietly in his corner of the room he got himself undressed and got into bed. On one side of the room, Harry and Ron stayed up half the night talking, and Seamus spent a long time chatting away with Dean, the other boy in their dorm, but Neville quickly curled up and fell into a deep sleep.
He had a strange dream that night. He dreamed he saw the sallow-faced teacher standing in front of him and staring at him, only the other teacher’s turban was atop his head, covering his greasy hair. The teacher began to laugh, and then his face transformed into the face of Harry and the laugh took on a mocking tone. The boy loomed over Neville and demanded to know why someone as unworthy as him was in Gryffindor. Then Harry plucked the turban from his head and pushed it down onto Neville’s and the weight bore down on him more and more until everything went black.
Neville Longbottom and the Philosopher's Stone by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which we view the Sorting Ceremony and the Hat places Neville into Gryffindor against his own expectations.