The Right-hand Corridor

A Harry Potter fic by Elise

Rating: G. Maybe PG with the action scenes at the end, but I haven’t written those yet.
Warnings: Um… chibi-Oliver?
Summary: Percy Weasley finally gets to go to Hogwarts. But can he stand it, with the Slytherins, an exuberant roommate, a mysterious disappearing hallway, and -worst of all- getting points off?

And because I forgot to say last chapter, Parts 1 & 2 are dedicated to linnetjo, who so thoughtfully beta-ed. Sorry I haven’t written in so long! Life kinda gets in the way. 

The Right Hand Corridor
Part 2- The Sorting

In which the boys are Sorted, people with perfect pitch are tortured, and the first year Gryffindors get a brief introduction to David Bowie.

*****

The first year students huddled on a dark platform after the train stopped. Suddenly, a lamp appeared, high over their heads and a voice called, "Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!"

"That’s us," Percy whispered to Oliver, grateful for some direction.

The man gathering the students was huge, with a wild beard and hair to match. "Over here, now! Anymore firs’ years? Firs’ years, follow me!" He led them up a narrow path, many of them tripping in the darkness. Percy heard an "Ow!" from behind him, and glanced back to see a small boy sporting a new fat lip being helped up. One girl shrieked as she slipped up above them, but the large man caught her and was murmuring soothingly to her.

"It’s all right. Not much farther now..." The girl sniffed, but seemed to be calming down.

Embarrassingly, Percy was the next one to trip on a particularly steep patch of ground. Oliver grabbed his wrist and helped him up.

"Thanks," Percy breathed, checking his pocket for Scabbers. He was still asleep.

"No prob." He grinned.

The path opened when it reached the shore of a lake. Across the lake on a mountain was a huge castle. The windows in all it’s towers shone with a warm light that made the lake below glitter.

"It’s more amazing in person than in the books," Percy said in awe, "and it was absolutely magnificent in Hogwarts, A History."

"Amazing," Oliver agreed simply. His hand still hung loosely from Percy’s wrist.

A chuckle came from next to them. "Yeh’re right there," the large man said to them. "Never heard truer words mehself."

"Thank you, Mr.... er..."

"Hagrid. Now get ter a boat. We’re not there yet." He chuckled again before he called out "No more’n four to a boat, everyone!"

Oliver finally let go of Percy’s wrist and they claimed a boat. They were joined by a rather unfriendly girl with a stuck-up expression and a tiny boy with huge, blue eyes.

"Everyone in? Good. FORWARD!"

At Hagrid’s call, the boats started to glide across the lake towards the castle. After passing through a low curtain of ivy ("Everyone, head’s down!") and a long tunnel, they reached the dock and climbed from the boats. One boy collapsed onto the beach and started mumbling about "sweet, sweet land."

"Everyone ready?" Hagrid asked. The students all stood up straight and nodded. "Let’s go then." He led them up a path to a huge door, where he knocked three times.

The door opened to reveal a tall woman with a stern expression. Percy adjusted his glasses self-consciously, noting how her square frames rested perfectly straight on her nose.

Hagrid grinned and said, "The firs’ years. They’re still a little nervous, Professor McGonagall."

"They’ll be fine, Hagrid. Thank you." She turned to the students. "Follow me." And then she led them through a hallway that could’ve held the Burrow several times over, additions and all. They finally ended up in a small chamber, where Professor McGonagall turned to them again.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. Before you join everyone in the Great Hall for the start of term banquet-" Oliver’s stomach grumbled as if on cue. "-you need to be Sorted into your Houses." Two girls on the other side of Oliver paled and grasped each others hands. "The Sorting is one of our most important ceremonies. While you’re here, your House will be your family." Percy groaned inwardly. He hated that word sometimes. "You will attend classes, sleep in the dormitories, and spend time in the common room with the rest of your House.

"The Houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Each has it’s own great history that we sincerely hope you will be part of. Your triumphs here will earn your House points. Rule breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the House with the greatest number of points receives the House Cup, a very honorable award to that House. I’m sure you’ll all be a credit to your Houses.

"You have a few moments to smarten yourselves up before the Sorting Ceremony in the Great Hall. Please take the opportunity." She glanced at the boy with the split lip. Percy thought he saw a flicker of concern in her eyes.

"I’ll return shortly. And for Heaven’s sake, wait quietly!"

After she left, Oliver whispered, "Did any of your brothers say anything about the Sorting?"

"Only that it hurt much," Percy muttered. He straightened his glasses again. The boy with the fat lip was rolling his eyes while one of the girls tended it.

"Great," Oliver said forlornly. "I hate going into things unprepared."

"Me too."

Percy had smoothed his hair and adjusted his robes twice when Professor McGonagall returned.

"Alright, everyone," she said, looking slightly- just slightly- happier than before. "I’m glad that you all decided to wait QUIETLY, unlike last years students. Now form a line. The ceremony is about to start."

Percy stood obediently between Oliver and the boy with the fat lip, who glared at the girl who’d tried to help him. She huffed at him.

They followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall- an enormous room with long tables, uncountable candles, and a ceiling that Percy knew from his books was enchanted to reflect the sky outside.

"Amazing," Oliver whispered. Percy agreed whole-heartedly.

Professor McGonagall led them near the teacher’s table, but in front of it so they stood facing the students. Then she placed a simple stool in front of them and a battered wizard’s hat on top of that.

The room was silent. Then, one of the girls on the other side of Oliver squeaked as a tear in the hat opened, and it sang.

"Open your ears
But don’t close your eyes!
And listen to me-
Among hats, the most wise.

For it’s my job
To say where you belong
And where you’re best
When you try me on.

Which House for you?
That’s what I tell!
In Ravenclaw,
Let your intellect swell.

Dear Hufflepuff!
Such loyal friends!
And Gryffindors!
Such courage lends!

At Slytherin,
Ambition is key.
But nowhere, you’ll find,
Is a brighter cap than me!"

The Hall burst into cheers and laughter.

"That’s the worst song I’ve ever heard in my entire life," Oliver muttered.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall said to the first years, a long parchment in her hand, "step forward, and then you’ll try on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted." She unrolled the parchment and began. "Appleby, George."

"I hate that name," Percy murmured.

"Appleby?" Oliver asked.

"No, George. One of the twins is named George."

The hat suddenly shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Brudrick, Bethany." The snotty-looking girl from their boat became a Slytherin.

"Calvin, Jane" became the first Gryffindor, and Percy got to see his brothers and parents old House’s residents. They looked like a good-enough bunch.

Unfortunately, that got Percy thinking. Which House will I be in? Will I be the fifth Weasley in Gryffindor? What if I am? What if I’m not? What will Mum say?

He was only vaguely aware of the rest of the ceremony, thanks to Oliver’s occasional commentary.

"That’s the third one in a row to Ravenclaw. They’ve got a lot of C’s. Hey! It’s the kid from our boat! Go get ‘em, Adam! Look, it’s one of those jerks from the train. Think McGonagall would be mad if I booed?"

The trollishly large boy who’d called Percy a nerd turned out to be "Flint, Marcus" and became a Slytherin. His friends, Peter Landry and Roland Nott, joined him. The poor boy with the split lip went between them somewhere, and "McLeary, Daniel" became a Hufflepuff.

"Wow. The new Hufflepuffs are all boys, and the new Gryffindors are all girls," Oliver mused as Mary Quentin became the fourth girl to sit at the Gryffindor table. Soon, it was down to just Oliver and Percy, as Joseph Townsend was declared a Ravenclaw.

"Weasley, Percy."

There was a small murmur from the Gryffindor’s direction as Percy stepped forward. His legs felt weak and he was certain that the butterflies in his stomach were having a party, but he stood up tall and walked to the hat without straightening his glasses once.

He pulled the battered hat over his head and slipped onto the stool. The inside of the hat fell over his eyes, and was very, very dark.

"Another Weasley, huh?"

Percy nearly fell off the stool in surprise when the voice spoke in his ears. He’d heard the hat call out names, but he had no idea it talked to them!

The hat ignored him. "Quite a head you’ve got there, but you’re very ambitious. Your first day and you’re already shooting for Head Boy? You’d make an excellent Slytherin."

Two thoughts came to Percy then, one on top of the other- ‘Mum would kill me!’ and ‘They’ll eat me alive!’

"Really? I wouldn’t be so sure... No, you’re right. They would eat you alive. But you could do well in any House.... I think you’ve got a lot of heart, though.

"Besides, your heart is set on GRYFFINDOR!"

Percy started when the hat screamed aloud, but luckily didn’t fall or knock over the stool like one of the Hufflepuffs had. He placed the hat back on the stool and walked over to the Gryffindor table calmly as Oliver was called up. He sat next to an older boy and a silvery figure that he guessed was Gryffindor’s resident ghost, whom his family had actually deigned to tell him a little about.

"Hello," he said politely, even though his butterflies hadn’t gone away. He glanced up at Oliver, who had just sat down on the stool, Sorting Hat over his eyes.

"Hi," said the older boy. "Welcome to Gryffindor. I’m Bran Hunter." Percy shook his hand. He was about fifteen or sixteen, and had a silver badge on his robes. He gestured to the ghost. "And this is our ghost-"

"Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the ghost interrupted. "At your service."

"But we call him Nearly-Headless Nick," Bran said and winked. Nick sighed in resignation. They’d obviously been through their routine before, with the young girls sitting across from them.

Percy grinned nervously, and glanced up at Oliver again. He sat very stiffly, his fists clenched. It looked like he was arguing with the hat.

"Your friend?" Bran asked, catching his glance.

"Sort of. Yeah, I guess."

"Don’t worry. Even if he is in a different House, you’ll see him. A lot of the lessons are doubled with the other Houses-"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Oh. I guess you will be together. That’s good. Otherwise you’d be the only boy in Gryffindor, and that would probably be lonely."

"Hey Percy," Oliver said as he joined them, grinning.

"Hi Oliver."

"I’m glad I got into Gryffindor with you. That stupid hat tried to put me in one of the other Houses, but I told it I couldn’t leave you alone. Then-"

"Oliver!" Percy snapped, reddening. Bran and Nearly-Headless Nick were grinning.

"But here I am!" Oliver finished stubbornly. "Hello."

Just then, a man with a long silver beard stood up at the Head Table.

"Professor Dumbledore," Bran whispered. "The Headmaster."

"Good evening, everyone. Welcome to Hogwarts. You may now pig out," and he sat back down. Everyone clapped.

"That was the best speech I’ve ever heard," Oliver declared, and smiled broadly as all the plates on the table instantly filled with food.

They all ate happily, chatting with each other and the girls across from them.

"What’s your badge for?" Jane Calvin asked Bran suddenly. "Are you a prefect?"

"Indeed I am," Bran said, patting the badge with it’s big P. "That means if you have trouble with anything, you can come to me. Or to Tony Scarborough down there. He‘s a good guy." He pointed to a small, dark boy with a silver badge on his chest as well. "Tony’s one of our sixth year prefects, and we’re all hoping he makes Head Boy next year."

Percy smiled. That would be him someday, sitting tall and straight and looking so much more knowledgeable than everyone else, with the shiny badge to prove it.

"Who’s the Head Boy this year?" he asked anxiously.

"Mark Penhill. See him over at the Ravenclaw table, sitting next to that first year girl with the curls?"

"The one all the girls are staring at?" Oliver asked, his nose wrinkled in distaste.

"That’s him," Bran said, also with a sour face. "The girls love him. He’s handsome, intelligent, and could’ve played Quidditch. Didn’t want to, though."

"He’s nutters, then," Oliver said solemnly.

"I want to know who the Head GIRL is," Missy Green butted in. She was another first year sitting next to Jane.

"Laura Farthington," Bran said immediately. "She’s not bad- for a Slytherin."

By dessert, talk had turned to Quidditch.

"Don’t get your hopes up this year, Oliver," Nearly-Headless Nick said mournfully. "This year’s team is, well, green. Half the team graduated since Percy’s brother Charlie. He was a fine Seeker."

Percy flinched. Please don’t talk about Charlie....

"Anyways," Bran added, "the captain’s a sixth year, but it’s his first year as Captain. Kurt Cohen," and he pointed him out. Percy didn’t particularly care, since they weren’t talking about Charlie.

"Planning on joining the team?" Missy asked Oliver.

"The second we get here next year!" he told her excitedly. "Do you play?"

Missy and Jane both shook their heads negatively.

"That’s too bad. Percy doesn’t either." Percy flushed a little. "I asked on the train. Do you think the other girls in our year play?"

"You’d have to teach Sara," Jane informed him. "She’s a Muggle-born. I don’t know about Mary or Sally."

"None of you are any fun!"

Percy was just about to ask Bran about classes when Professor Dumbledore stood up again. He waited calmly when the Hall broke out in applause.

I want to be the type of man that gets an ovation just for standing up! Percy thought as he clapped.

"Thank you all! That was beautiful!" Dumbledore said, beaming. "Now, I have a few announcements for you all!

"First years, please note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students. That is why it’s called the FORBIDDEN Forest." He looked right at the Gryffindor table, where bunch of second years at the other end from Percy cringed. Dumbledore grinned as he continued. "Professor Sprout has asked me to relay that the next person molesting the Whomping Willow will be dealt with severely, by her as well as the tree. Our dear Mr. Filch would like me to remind you that magic-use between classes is also forbidden. That means you!" He didn’t look at anyone in particular, but seemed to include them all.

"And now, the School Song."

"Oh no," Bran groaned. Several of the teachers looked strained.

A ribbon shot from Dumbledore’s wand, forming into words. "Everyone sing along to your favorite song!"

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts...

The noise was terrible, but Percy was glad; it drowned out his own voice. He noticed Bran flinched several times in the first line alone. Oliver belted out the song, but Sara Proctor, the Muggle-born Gryffindor, was one of the last done. She had a very pretty voice.

"Beautiful," Dumbledore said, seeming a bit choked up. "Positively beautiful. That’s just the thing. Sweet dreams everyone!"

Bran stood up shakily. "Follow me," he said to the first years, sounding a little weak.

"What’s wrong?" Percy asked. He noticed Bran flinch again when he spoke.

"I have perfect pitch," the older boy explained. "I hear every little mistake in that song every year. It’s torture, absolute torture."

"That’s awful!" Sara said.

"You were a saving grace, though," he told her as he led them through a doorway that had been hidden behind a sliding panel. "Lovely voice. I hope you’ll take lessons." Sara beamed. "What was that song you were singing to?"

"Oh," she blushed. "That was an old David Bowie song, Lady Stardust."

They all paused to stare at her blankly.

"David Bowie? He’s very famous- in the Muggle world." There was a chorus of "Ooh"s. "Really, I can’t believe you wizards sometimes... Not knowing David Bowie..." she muttered as they started off again.

"Percy, though..." Bran said softly.

"What?" Percy said quickly, anxious to please.

"Could you do me a big favor? Don’t sing near me. Ever."

Oliver snickered as Percy turned red. "Shut up, Oliver!" he snapped. "You weren’t so great yourself!"

"That’s an understatement," muttered Bran.

It was Percy’s turn to snicker.

"Ah, here we are!" Bran said happily as they reached a painting of a very large woman in a pink dress.

"Password?" the painted Fat Lady asked.

"Griffon feathers," Bran announced. The Fat Lady’s portrait swung open, revealing a hole in the wall. "Go ahead through." They entered into a room filled with armchairs.

Once in the common room, Bran shooed the girls through one door and Percy and Oliver through another. "G’night!" he called. "See you in the morning!"

The boys climbed stairs until they reached a doorway. It opened into a cozy room with tow beds, both of them four-posters with thick red curtains. Oliver’s trunk sat at the end of one, while Percy’s was at the other. His Standard Book of Spells rested on top.

"Oh no!" he cried. "I can’t believe I forgot my book!" He grabbed it and hugged it close. Scabbers squeaked in protest. "Sorry, Scabbers."

Oliver flopped onto his bed and groaned in delight. "Soft..."

Percy rolled his eyes as Oliver wiggled around, trying to put on his pajamas without getting up. He settled Scabbers on one pillow and quickly changed into his own pajamas, a slightly large, almost violently blue set that had been Bill’s.

"Night, Perce," Oliver yawned.

"Good night, Oliver," he returned as he settled in. They both fell asleep immediately, completely worn out after the feast and all the walking before that. Oliver was sprawled all over, but Percy was neatly curled up, Scabbers snoring on a pillow and his Standard Book of Spells in hand.

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