Categories > Books > Harry Potter > There Once Was a Girl Named Elizabeth Riddle
I know you’re still there
Because you’re scared
That you’ll lose everybody
I know you’re still there
Because you’re scared
That you’ll lose everything
I know you’re still there
Because you’re scared
The ceilings are tall, the pictures are moving and the doors are bigger than anything I’ve ever seen before. All of it is just too incredible to be real. This surpasses any house I’ve ever been in. I cannot believe I actually get to stay here…learn here. Wow.
We are herded up a set of stone steps. At the top a women in all green robes and a pointed witch’s hat awaits us. She’s old, with grey hairs sticking out from under her hat even though it is pulled back in a tight bun. She looks strict.
“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. Shortly, you’ll pass through these doors and join your classmates but before you take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”
Turning to Draco I smile, “That was the house my father was in.”
“My house,” Draco replies with a smirk.
“While you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule – breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year the house with the most points wins the house cup,” the witch in front of us continues.
My eyes travel to a brown toad sitting on the top step. Who brings a toad to school with them?
“Trevor!” a brown haired, semi – chubby boy exclaims, lunging forward to grab the slimy animal.
“What an idiot,” I mumble to Draco, who nods in agreement.
The chubby boy looks up at McGonagall, “Sorry.”
Ignoring him the Professor continues on, “The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily.” With that she walks away.
“It’s true then,” Draco says slipping a gallon in my hand, “what they’re saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.”
The rest of the first years around us begin to mumble. They have obviously heard the rumor as well. It is only two easy to recognize the scrawny, messy brown haired boy with the lightning bolt scar…Harry Potter, the boy who lived; Draco has spotted him.
“This is Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco says introducing the two bigger boys who rode in the boat with us. “And she’s….”
I cut Draco off, “Elizabeth Riddle.”
Harry nods, brushing the hair off his forehead, making it even easier to see the scar. Does he even know; the story behind the scar, the fact that every living wizard knows his name? I wonder how it feels to have everyone know your name. Riddle really isn’t that big of a deal, no one knew my father’s real name.
“And I’m Malfoy,” Draco says, standing in front of Harry, “Draco Malfoy.”
A red haired boy standing beside Harry snickers; based on his appearance I can gauge he is a Weasley. Every one of them looks exactly the same.
Draco turns to him, “Think my name’s funny, do you? I’ve no need to ask yours. Red hair and hand – me – down robes?”
“He’s a Weasley,” I announce.
“Will you stop doing that?” asks Draco and edge to his words.
“Sorry, it’s a thing,” I answer, glancing at the ground.
Rolling his eyes, Draco turns back to Harry, “You’ll soon find out some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong type. I can help you,” Malfoy extends his hand to Harry.
“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” replies Potter, glancing down at Draco’s hand but he does not take it.
In doing this Harry Potter has just made a rather large mistake. The Malfoy’s are a well known family with a well known past. Pure – blood, Death Eaters, loads of money. Draco is someone everyone will be trying to get at. Obviously Harry hasn’t heard of pure – blood or anything else to do with the Wizarding world for that matter.
Professor McGonagall walks up behind Draco, tapping him on the shoulder with a scroll, “We’re ready for you now. Follow me.”
As everyone follows McGonagall through the doors into a hall I begin to shake. The only thought running through my mind is ‘what if I don’t make it into Slytherin?’ The ceiling looks like the night sky, with candles levitated above four tables set up for the different houses. In complete awe of the entire thing I stare up at the enchanted ceiling mesmerized. This is amazing.
Students sitting at the house tables watch us as we walk towards the front of the room towards the raised platform where the teachers eat.
On this raised area sits a stool with a shabby looking black hat on it. This must be the Sorting Hat. How a hat can determine what house people should be in, I do not know. Though I have heard it has yet to make a mistake. I suppose I shall see.
McGonagall strides up the two steps leading to the stage, stopping next to the hat, “Will you stop along here, please? Now before we begin Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”
A wizard with long white hair and beard with half – moon spectacles resting on the bridge of his crooked nose wearing rich colored purple robes rises. This is the Headmaster of Hogwarts…this wizard is Albus Dumbledore.
“I have a few start – of – term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the 3rd – floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.”
What dismal announcement. Why tell students not to go into places? Do these people not know it will only make us want to go there more? For the thrill of breaking rules to see if we are able to get away with it. Perhaps that is only me.
“When I call your name, you will come forth,” starts Professor McGonagall, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses.”
These words send me yet again into my shaking. I can’t imagine the disappointed look on Severus’ face if I don’t make it into his house. This only causes my fear to grow. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Unrolling her scroll McGonagall starts to read off names, “Hermione Granger.”
The girl named Hermione walks slowly up the stool, mumbling to herself.
“Right, then, right!” says the hat springing to life on contact with Hermione’s head. “Okay, Gryffindor!”
The table towards the middle of the room erupts with applause as Hermione hops over towards it, taking a seat next to another Weasley, how many of them are there? I cannot imagine living under the same roof with that many people. I’m too used to living with a single person or with a couple who do not have kids. I’d be absolutely terrible at having siblings.
“Susan Bones,” Professor McGonagall says.
The strawberry blonde walks onto the stage, sitting on the stool her entire body shaking; that’ll be me
“Hufflepuff!” the hat announces.
“Draco Malfoy.”
“See you in a bit,” he says before walking onto the stage.
The hat barely touches his head, “Slytherin!”
I smile weakly at him as he passes by, heading towards the Slytherin house table.
“Ronald Weasley.”
“Ha!” the Sorting Hat says once on Ron’s head, “Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you, Gryffindor!”
Ron lets out the breath he has been holding before going to join his brothers at the Gryffindor table. I guess it’s kind of a thing that every Weasley is sorted into that house. It would be terrible to be the Weasley that broke that tradition.
“Harry Potter.”
The entire Great Hall goes silent at the mention of his name. I am pretty positive each house is wishing to get this famous wizard. Personally I want nothing to do with him. His fame will get to his head.
“Hmm, difficult, very difficult,” the hat starts of course it is going to make a big production out of sorting the boy who lived. “Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself but where to put you? Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all there, in your head and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. No doubt about it. No? Well, if you’re sure. Better be…Gryffindor!”
The Gryffindor table erupts into a chant of ‘We got Potter! We got Potter!’ All I know is that it took too long to sort him causing my anxiety to grow.
“Elizabeth Riddle,” Professor McGonagall say an edge to her words. All the professors know who I am. I’m sure they will be cautious but my last name doesn’t mean I will be just like my father.
For a moment I do nothing but stand there wide eyed and completely petrified to have the hat put on my head. Finally I take the number of required steps to reach the stage. As I walk up the step I notice Dumbledore eyeing me with a look of curiosity. I take a seat on the stool, trying to ignoring the eyes of those who know what my father became. It proves to be a hard task but not as hard as trying to stop my shaking.
Thankfully my sorting goes quickly; within a few second of being on my head the hat makes a decision, “Mind just like your fathers, born for excellence. Slytherin!”
Smiling and letting out a sigh of relief I hop off the stool and skip over to the table that is by far the loudest of the evening. I feel so special sitting next to Draco Malfoy. I’ve made it into the house I wanted. Looking up to the teachers table I notice Severus looking at me, that blank faced smile on his face.
“I told you,” I whisper trying to sound like I wasn’t nervous. “Good job making it in though. Wouldn’t want to end up a Hufflepuff; whatever that is.”
Draco smirks, shaking his head.
In the end Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle where all sorted into Slytherin so I’ve got all my friends with me. Oh happy day. My father would be so proud.
Once the very last student was sorted, Amy Hunt, Hufflepuff, Dumbledore stands, “Let the feast begin.”
In the blink of an eye food appears on all the golden serving trays. How in the world do they do that? Putting questions aside I pile food onto my plate afraid it will disappear just as quickly as it has come. Two pieces of thick meat, a helping of green beans, a roll, potatoes and a lemon tart. Shoving food in my mouth I watch the ghosts fly around the hall, talking to different students. Each house has a ghost. Slytherin’s is the Bloody Baron.
After dinner we are lead by our head boy to the common room. Why are we going so far to the bottom of the school? Everybody else got to go upstairs. It’s cold. Eventually we stop in front of a statue of a snake our head boy turns to us.
“The password is pure – blood,” he explains as the snake moves to revel a circular hole in the brick wall of the dungeons.
As everyone steps inside I look around. Low ceilings that reflect whatever is above them giving the room a blue/green glow, there are comfortable looking leather couches situated around green flames. I thought flames only turned green if you where using the Floo network. This is bloody brilliant. I am pushed forward by Goyle. Tripping over my own foot, I hit the heavily carpeted ground.
“What was that for?” I demand, getting to my feet.
“You where in my way, had to move you,” the great buffoon replies with a grunt.
“You could have just asked me to move, you prat,” I answer, fingers curling into a ball.
Instead of answering Goyle turns away to talk to Crabbe completely ignoring me. How dare he? I’ve got a temper, I can’t help myself. I let my fist make contact with the side of Goyle’s beefy cheek, disappointed with the slight pink mark it leaves. I thought I was able to hit harder than that.
“I was talking to you. I want an apology,” I state.
Lucky for me our head boy has seen nothing and continues to tell everyone where the dormitories are and about the history of Slytherin.
“I’m not giving you one.”
“Really,” I reply pulling out my wand. I know a few spells but the one I’m thinking of is supposed to make one spit up slugs. “I can change that.”
“Is everything alright over here,” the head boy questions me; finally figuring out that something is going on.
“No, everything is perfectly fine,” I reply sharply before stomping off to the left where the girl’s dormitories are. I’ll deal with Goyle in the morning or get Severus to. Either way the chubby little prat will pay.
Because you’re scared
That you’ll lose everybody
I know you’re still there
Because you’re scared
That you’ll lose everything
I know you’re still there
Because you’re scared
The ceilings are tall, the pictures are moving and the doors are bigger than anything I’ve ever seen before. All of it is just too incredible to be real. This surpasses any house I’ve ever been in. I cannot believe I actually get to stay here…learn here. Wow.
We are herded up a set of stone steps. At the top a women in all green robes and a pointed witch’s hat awaits us. She’s old, with grey hairs sticking out from under her hat even though it is pulled back in a tight bun. She looks strict.
“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. Shortly, you’ll pass through these doors and join your classmates but before you take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”
Turning to Draco I smile, “That was the house my father was in.”
“My house,” Draco replies with a smirk.
“While you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule – breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year the house with the most points wins the house cup,” the witch in front of us continues.
My eyes travel to a brown toad sitting on the top step. Who brings a toad to school with them?
“Trevor!” a brown haired, semi – chubby boy exclaims, lunging forward to grab the slimy animal.
“What an idiot,” I mumble to Draco, who nods in agreement.
The chubby boy looks up at McGonagall, “Sorry.”
Ignoring him the Professor continues on, “The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily.” With that she walks away.
“It’s true then,” Draco says slipping a gallon in my hand, “what they’re saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.”
The rest of the first years around us begin to mumble. They have obviously heard the rumor as well. It is only two easy to recognize the scrawny, messy brown haired boy with the lightning bolt scar…Harry Potter, the boy who lived; Draco has spotted him.
“This is Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco says introducing the two bigger boys who rode in the boat with us. “And she’s….”
I cut Draco off, “Elizabeth Riddle.”
Harry nods, brushing the hair off his forehead, making it even easier to see the scar. Does he even know; the story behind the scar, the fact that every living wizard knows his name? I wonder how it feels to have everyone know your name. Riddle really isn’t that big of a deal, no one knew my father’s real name.
“And I’m Malfoy,” Draco says, standing in front of Harry, “Draco Malfoy.”
A red haired boy standing beside Harry snickers; based on his appearance I can gauge he is a Weasley. Every one of them looks exactly the same.
Draco turns to him, “Think my name’s funny, do you? I’ve no need to ask yours. Red hair and hand – me – down robes?”
“He’s a Weasley,” I announce.
“Will you stop doing that?” asks Draco and edge to his words.
“Sorry, it’s a thing,” I answer, glancing at the ground.
Rolling his eyes, Draco turns back to Harry, “You’ll soon find out some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong type. I can help you,” Malfoy extends his hand to Harry.
“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” replies Potter, glancing down at Draco’s hand but he does not take it.
In doing this Harry Potter has just made a rather large mistake. The Malfoy’s are a well known family with a well known past. Pure – blood, Death Eaters, loads of money. Draco is someone everyone will be trying to get at. Obviously Harry hasn’t heard of pure – blood or anything else to do with the Wizarding world for that matter.
Professor McGonagall walks up behind Draco, tapping him on the shoulder with a scroll, “We’re ready for you now. Follow me.”
As everyone follows McGonagall through the doors into a hall I begin to shake. The only thought running through my mind is ‘what if I don’t make it into Slytherin?’ The ceiling looks like the night sky, with candles levitated above four tables set up for the different houses. In complete awe of the entire thing I stare up at the enchanted ceiling mesmerized. This is amazing.
Students sitting at the house tables watch us as we walk towards the front of the room towards the raised platform where the teachers eat.
On this raised area sits a stool with a shabby looking black hat on it. This must be the Sorting Hat. How a hat can determine what house people should be in, I do not know. Though I have heard it has yet to make a mistake. I suppose I shall see.
McGonagall strides up the two steps leading to the stage, stopping next to the hat, “Will you stop along here, please? Now before we begin Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”
A wizard with long white hair and beard with half – moon spectacles resting on the bridge of his crooked nose wearing rich colored purple robes rises. This is the Headmaster of Hogwarts…this wizard is Albus Dumbledore.
“I have a few start – of – term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the 3rd – floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.”
What dismal announcement. Why tell students not to go into places? Do these people not know it will only make us want to go there more? For the thrill of breaking rules to see if we are able to get away with it. Perhaps that is only me.
“When I call your name, you will come forth,” starts Professor McGonagall, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses.”
These words send me yet again into my shaking. I can’t imagine the disappointed look on Severus’ face if I don’t make it into his house. This only causes my fear to grow. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Unrolling her scroll McGonagall starts to read off names, “Hermione Granger.”
The girl named Hermione walks slowly up the stool, mumbling to herself.
“Right, then, right!” says the hat springing to life on contact with Hermione’s head. “Okay, Gryffindor!”
The table towards the middle of the room erupts with applause as Hermione hops over towards it, taking a seat next to another Weasley, how many of them are there? I cannot imagine living under the same roof with that many people. I’m too used to living with a single person or with a couple who do not have kids. I’d be absolutely terrible at having siblings.
“Susan Bones,” Professor McGonagall says.
The strawberry blonde walks onto the stage, sitting on the stool her entire body shaking; that’ll be me
“Hufflepuff!” the hat announces.
“Draco Malfoy.”
“See you in a bit,” he says before walking onto the stage.
The hat barely touches his head, “Slytherin!”
I smile weakly at him as he passes by, heading towards the Slytherin house table.
“Ronald Weasley.”
“Ha!” the Sorting Hat says once on Ron’s head, “Another Weasley! I know just what to do with you, Gryffindor!”
Ron lets out the breath he has been holding before going to join his brothers at the Gryffindor table. I guess it’s kind of a thing that every Weasley is sorted into that house. It would be terrible to be the Weasley that broke that tradition.
“Harry Potter.”
The entire Great Hall goes silent at the mention of his name. I am pretty positive each house is wishing to get this famous wizard. Personally I want nothing to do with him. His fame will get to his head.
“Hmm, difficult, very difficult,” the hat starts of course it is going to make a big production out of sorting the boy who lived. “Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself but where to put you? Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all there, in your head and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. No doubt about it. No? Well, if you’re sure. Better be…Gryffindor!”
The Gryffindor table erupts into a chant of ‘We got Potter! We got Potter!’ All I know is that it took too long to sort him causing my anxiety to grow.
“Elizabeth Riddle,” Professor McGonagall say an edge to her words. All the professors know who I am. I’m sure they will be cautious but my last name doesn’t mean I will be just like my father.
For a moment I do nothing but stand there wide eyed and completely petrified to have the hat put on my head. Finally I take the number of required steps to reach the stage. As I walk up the step I notice Dumbledore eyeing me with a look of curiosity. I take a seat on the stool, trying to ignoring the eyes of those who know what my father became. It proves to be a hard task but not as hard as trying to stop my shaking.
Thankfully my sorting goes quickly; within a few second of being on my head the hat makes a decision, “Mind just like your fathers, born for excellence. Slytherin!”
Smiling and letting out a sigh of relief I hop off the stool and skip over to the table that is by far the loudest of the evening. I feel so special sitting next to Draco Malfoy. I’ve made it into the house I wanted. Looking up to the teachers table I notice Severus looking at me, that blank faced smile on his face.
“I told you,” I whisper trying to sound like I wasn’t nervous. “Good job making it in though. Wouldn’t want to end up a Hufflepuff; whatever that is.”
Draco smirks, shaking his head.
In the end Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle where all sorted into Slytherin so I’ve got all my friends with me. Oh happy day. My father would be so proud.
Once the very last student was sorted, Amy Hunt, Hufflepuff, Dumbledore stands, “Let the feast begin.”
In the blink of an eye food appears on all the golden serving trays. How in the world do they do that? Putting questions aside I pile food onto my plate afraid it will disappear just as quickly as it has come. Two pieces of thick meat, a helping of green beans, a roll, potatoes and a lemon tart. Shoving food in my mouth I watch the ghosts fly around the hall, talking to different students. Each house has a ghost. Slytherin’s is the Bloody Baron.
After dinner we are lead by our head boy to the common room. Why are we going so far to the bottom of the school? Everybody else got to go upstairs. It’s cold. Eventually we stop in front of a statue of a snake our head boy turns to us.
“The password is pure – blood,” he explains as the snake moves to revel a circular hole in the brick wall of the dungeons.
As everyone steps inside I look around. Low ceilings that reflect whatever is above them giving the room a blue/green glow, there are comfortable looking leather couches situated around green flames. I thought flames only turned green if you where using the Floo network. This is bloody brilliant. I am pushed forward by Goyle. Tripping over my own foot, I hit the heavily carpeted ground.
“What was that for?” I demand, getting to my feet.
“You where in my way, had to move you,” the great buffoon replies with a grunt.
“You could have just asked me to move, you prat,” I answer, fingers curling into a ball.
Instead of answering Goyle turns away to talk to Crabbe completely ignoring me. How dare he? I’ve got a temper, I can’t help myself. I let my fist make contact with the side of Goyle’s beefy cheek, disappointed with the slight pink mark it leaves. I thought I was able to hit harder than that.
“I was talking to you. I want an apology,” I state.
Lucky for me our head boy has seen nothing and continues to tell everyone where the dormitories are and about the history of Slytherin.
“I’m not giving you one.”
“Really,” I reply pulling out my wand. I know a few spells but the one I’m thinking of is supposed to make one spit up slugs. “I can change that.”
“Is everything alright over here,” the head boy questions me; finally figuring out that something is going on.
“No, everything is perfectly fine,” I reply sharply before stomping off to the left where the girl’s dormitories are. I’ll deal with Goyle in the morning or get Severus to. Either way the chubby little prat will pay.
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