Chapter Five: A Warning Song
Tzipporah stared nervously at the students milling around her as she stepped into the lantern light of Hogsmeade Station. The older ones were strolling off the train in groups, most of them conversing in English, others in languages that Tzipporah did not know. Then a deep, guttural voice rumbled from just outside the lanterns’ glow.
“First-years and new students! Over here! First-years! New students!”
A short man with a bald head and a prominent hunchback lurched into the light, beckoning and shouting. Tzipporah and Millie forced their way against the tide of older students heading in the opposite direction.
“M’name’s Ogg,” grunted the man who had called them over. “We’d better be going now, don’t want to be late.” Without further explanation he took off into the darkness. Tzipporah and Millie followed along with the rest of the students. While most of the children behind her seemed her own age, Tzipporah noted that two dozen or so were older, and most definitely not pleased to be there. I suppose their parents sent them here to keep them safe, thought Tzipporah. I’d be upset too, if I had to switch schools so suddenly.
Ogg led them around a copse of trees, and Hogwarts castle bloomed into view against the blue-black sky. Its lights, bright and breathtaking, were reflected in the glimmering lake before them. A few dozen small boats lay anchored in the shallows, seemingly awaiting their arrival.
“Four t’ a boat, now,” was all Ogg grunted before he climbed into his own vessel. Tzipporah and Millie were shunted this way and that as students scrambled along the banks.
“Look, there’s room over there,” Millie pointed, and dragged Tzipporah towards a boat with two girls already in it.
“Can we come in here?” Millie asked the girls in the boat. They stared at her with blank, uncomprehending eyes. Millie turned to Tzipporah.
“Try asking in…what language do you speak again?”
“German, Yiddish, and Hebrew.” Not that I think they'll help much, she thought.
“Try that first one, then,” prompted Millie.
“Do you speak German?” Tzipporah asked the girls in her native tongue. One of them continued to stare, but the other responded in slow, halting German.
“I learned some in school,” she said. “I am Rosa Neuman, from Poland. This, I think, is Annika Ursulov, but I cannot understand much of what she says, she only speaks Russian.”
Millie prodded Tzipporah’s arm, pointing at the boats already drifting out onto the water. Hastily, Tzipporah turned back to Rosa.
“May we come in this boat with you?”
“Yes.”
Tzipporah nodded to Millie, and they got in. As Rosa pulled Annika over to make room, Tzipporah caught the look of mute fear on the face of the silent girl. Tzipporah could hardly bear to think how terrible it must have been for her. It was hard enough for me, and I speak English, she reflected. I can’t imagine getting through today without understanding anything people were saying.
The voyage across the pitch-black lake was shorter than Tzipporah would have thought from the span of the water. She supposed it was because of the spectacular presence of Hogwarts castle, from which the students could not draw away their gazes. The white stones of the walls shone silver in the moonlight, and the jeweled windows blinked like wise eyes at the awestruck children beneath them.
Without warning, the boats scraped bottom and Ogg motioned for them to step out onto the shore. Tzipporah pulled a rather green-faced Millie to her feet, and they followed the crowd up a gentle hill until they were standing on a flat plain of grass, the Hogwarts grounds spreading all around them. No more than a hundred paces away stood the doors of Hogwarts, thrown open in welcome so that golden light seeped out onto the dark grass.
“Ah, professor. Here th’are, sir,” Ogg said to a tall, thin figure making his way across the grounds, its face cast in shadow. But Tzipporah recognized him anyway “ it was Professor Dumbledore.
“Good, good, Mr. Ogg, I’ll take them from here.” Dumbledore turned to face the students as Ogg lurched away. “Do come along, the feast awaits you!” With a cheery smile, Professor Dumbledore strode back towards the school, the students trailing tiredly.
“I’ve had enough of this walking,” huffed Millie in Tzipporah’s ear as they neared the castle doors. “But I guess it’s better than those boats. Laird, but I am knackered.” Tzipporah gave a small smile which she meant to be sympathetic, but came out more amused. I can see I have a drama queen for a friend.
Dumbledore led the students up the stairs and into an enormous entrance hall lit by floating candles.
“Now we’ll just wait here while Mr. Ogg retrieves the Sorting Hat.” Dumbledore turned and twinkled his blue eyes at the very small-looking students before him. “In a moment each of you will have a very ancient hat placed on your head, which will decide your house. Please do not be worried,” he added, noticing the terrified looks of some of the students. “It is a very simple process. Ah, are they ready, Sir Nicholas?”
Several people screamed as a pearlescent man with an ostentatious ruff glided through the nearest wall and nodded at Dumbledore.
“Ogg has just set up the stool and the hat, Professor. Everyone is waiting.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Sir Nicholas.”
The ghost gave another nod and vanished through the wall. Tzipporah, who had been clutching her Star of David pendant in fright, turned to Milly, and was shocked to see her nonplussed expression.
“Millie,” she whispered. “That was a ghost.”
“I know,” said Millie, examining her fingernails disinterestedly. “Gloomy old hardchaws, aren’t they? I’ve got a great-great-uncle that’s a ghost. He lives mostly in me attic, but on holidays he comes down to wail at us about how we’ve forgotten our ancestors and such. What? What are you goggle-eying me for?” Millie had finally noticed Tzipporah’s shocked expression.
“Never mind,” Tzipporah muttered, rubbing her pendant. Hogwarts is definitely going to take some getting used to.
With a bang Dumbledore threw open a pair of heavy oaken doors and ushered the new students through through. The Great Hall was brimming with chatter, though the noise level dropped as the new students filed between the tables, their faces pale and apprehensive. I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, Tzipporah told herself, trying to hide her agitation. Nothing bad can happen. Without thinking, she began to mutter the words to the v’ahavta under her breath, seeking comfort in the familiar Hebrew phrases. She bit her tongue, however, when Millie twisted around to ask her what she was saying.
“N-nothing,” Tzipporah mumbled, and wondered whether she should have just told Millie it was a Jewish prayer. I’m sure she’d understand, Tzipporah thought. But I can tell her later just as well as now.
Before Tzipporah knew what had happened she was standing at the front of the Great Hall in a line of students, waiting, it seemed, for something to happen. She followed the gazes of the older students to a dirty, pointed hat slumped upon a rickety stool just a few paces away from where she stood, and began to watch it as well. Then, to her astonishment, a rip near the hat’s brim opened wide like a mouth, and, in a clear, ringing voice, it began to sing.
Since the start of this dear school
I’ve sat and sung upon this stool
My job, you see, is to proclaim
The house to which I’ll add your name.
For those of greatest derring-do
It’s Gryffindor you’re suited to
This boldest house is the best known
For being quest and battle-prone.
And as for sweetest Hufflepuff,
Hard work and goodness are enough,
For the founder’s kindly heart
Would let no student e’er depart.
Ravenclaw is for the bright
In wit its students show their might.
Their thirst for knowledge can’t be stopped
And in class they’re seldom topped.
Shrewd Slytherin of the silver-green
Is for those devious and keen
Its students have most cunning brains,
And secretive this house remains.
Into these houses I will now place
The students before my patchy face
But heed my words of warning too
For all our futures rest with you.
Both worlds are as of now divided
And by our hate we have been guided.
But if we stand, friends, side by side
We’ll overcome the power of pride.
So join, O Hogwarts, hand in hand
Be not idle “ take a stand!
For curses made beneath one’s breath
Will lead to hatred, then to death.
Listen, listen, close to me
To one who has seen history,
And as I sort now, ponder war
And whether hate’s worth dying for.
As the hat’s final words echoed through the silent hall, the soft rumbling of whispered voices began to rise like a storm wave, until at all of the tables the students were speaking with their neighbors, their comments full of confusion, alarm, and scorn.
“Both worlds?” Millie quoted in Tzipporah’s ear. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Tzipporah replied quietly, and shivered. The hat spoke of death “ but the war cannot reach here! So far from Vienna, and still I’m in danger! What would Tateh say if he knew?
It was not until a wizard at the teacher’s table sent off a few firecrackers that the tables fell into silence, although it was a tenser one than before. Professor Dumbledore got up from his seat and, with a wave of his wand, conjured a long roll of parchment in midair, which he caught nonchalantly as he strolled towards the line of new students. Then he began calling names, one by one.
“Binx, Terrence!”
A rat-faced boy stepped up to the stool and sat down. Dumbledore placed the sorting hat over his blonde hair, and it almost immediately shouted out “
“SLYTHERIN!”
The table along one side of the hall erupted in cheers as Terrence scuttled off to find a seat, a smirk on his thin face.
“Deplumbe, Jean-Paul!”
The boy who stepped out of the line this time looked deathly white, until he nearly tripped over his own feet getting to the stool “ then he turned red. The hat took a long time to decide on his house.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” was the hat’s final decision.
“Durmond, Clarice!”
Clarice was also pale as she sat down upon the stool, but her mouth was set with grim determination. I hope I look half as composed when my name gets called, Tzipporah thought to herself, watching as Dumbledore let the hat drop over Clarice’s brown bangs.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The table on the opposite side of the hall from the Slytherins burst into applause as they welcomed a now smiling Clarice to her house. Tzipporah thought she looked more relieved than anything else.
Dumbledore continued calling names for a quarter of an hour “
“Falken, Adlar!” and “Falken, Adolfina!”
“RAVENCLAW!” and “RAVENCLAW!”
“Garion, Gaelle!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
“Irmigard, Felda!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!
“Jurgen, Alfonzo!”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
“ it seemed the list would never end. Then, just after “Laos, Meg,” had been sorted into Slytherin, Tzipporah’s ears pricked up again.
“MacDougal, Millie!”
With a toss of her red hair, Millie stomped forward with her chin raised, seating herself upon the stool as though it were a throne. Tzipporah thought she saw Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle as he set the hat down on her head.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Millie skipped triumphantly to join her new table, grinning as she took a seat beside Clarice. Tzipporah watched interestedly to see what Millie’s reaction would be when she saw Edward Potter, who sat a few seats down on the opposite side of the table. Moments later Millie caught sight of her enemy and, looking positively furious, began whispering to Clarice.
“Morley, Phyllis!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
Tzipporah couldn’t help feeling sorry that Phyllis was not in Gryffindor with her other new friends. But Phyllis didn’t seem to be upset; Tzipporah saw her shrug at a crestfallen Clarice as she walked across the hall to the cheering Hufflepuff table, where she was hailed by a knot of other first-years.
The line of new students dwindled as Dumbledore neared the end of the alphabet. To her horror, Tzipporah felt the flutterings of fear in her stomach as “Platt, Mischa,” joined the Ravenclaw table. Only three letters to go…
All too soon she heard her name.
“Stein, Tzipporah!”
Clenching her fists to stop her hands from shaking, Tzipporah walked what felt like a thousand steps towards the stool and sat down. The last thing she saw was Dumbledore’s encouraging smile before the hat dropped over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
“Ah, let’s see…” said the hat inside her head. “You’ve got brains in here, my girl, and a heap of secrets too. Perhaps Ravenclaw, or Slytherin…”
Tzipporah felt a stab of longing as she thought of Clarice and Millie at the Gryffindor table. I won’t go anywhere without my friends!
“Oh, you won’t? So it’s Gryffindor you’re after…” the hat remarked, sounding amused. “Well, you’re brave and loyal, as well as bright, so I don’t see why not. If your heart’s set on that, then it’d better be “
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The last word rang through the hall, and the Gryffindor table clapped and cheered as a beaming Tzipporah practically ran to join her friends.
Nothing, she thought as Millie gave her a delighted hug and Clarice scooted over to make room, can be better than this moment. And indeed, it was to be one of her happiest nights for quite some time.
Challah and Pumpkin Juice by Calico
Chapter Endnotes: I know not much happened here, I just needed to get Tzipporah sorted, and start setting the theme for this book...hopefully the hat's song was enough of a clue. Anyway, here's an excerpt from chapter six:
A swastika? A muggle symbol, at Hogwarts? What can it mean?
“Zippie, are you okay?” Millie asked, catching sight of Tzipporah’s face. “You look about ready to faint.”
“Do you know what that symbol means?” Clarice asked eagerly.
Tzipporah remembered what her father had said to her over a year ago, when Tzipporah had brought home a German newspaper she had found in the street. He had told her that the day the swastika came to Vienna would be the day they left.
Tzipporah knew exactly what the swastika meant: death for the Jews, for herself.
And now the swastika was at Hogwarts. How is it possible?
“Zippie?”
Tzipporah emerged from her memories to find the four other girls staring at her in concern.
“No,” she lied. “I don’t know what it means.”