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Neville Longbottom's Sorting Ceremony"Longbottom, Neville!" Professor McGonagall called.
Neville walked shyly down to the three-foot stool in front of the Professors table. He felt incredibly nervous.
When he finally reached Professor McGonagall and the stool, he sat, and he saw momentarily all of the faces in the Great Hall looking at him. He felt the hat being put on his head and slipping to his nose, covering his eyes. The only thing he could see now was the inside of the hat.
"Hmm very interesting " a voice said in his ear. "I have no doubt about you You would give a great Gryffindor."
Gryffindor? Neville thought. I'm not a Gryffindor! I'm not brave I would never be able to put up with the responsibility of being in Gryffindor! I'll just let everybody down I'll let my grandmother down
"Not a Gryffindor? Really? Then where do you think you'd belong?"
Neville was surprised that the hat was actually answering to his thoughts.
He can read my thoughts Err
Hermione Granger's Sorting Ceremony"Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall read aloud from the long roll of parchment in her hands.
Hermione almost ran to the stool and eagerly put the hat on her head. And then, she waited.
"Hmm, very clever, I see " a voice whispered on her ear. "With quite a thirst for knowledge "
Hermione had read about the sorting process in «Hogwarts a History», and knew that whatever she thought about at the moment, the hat would "hear". Besides it had said in its song that «There's nothing hidden in your head, the sorting hat can't see».
"Hmm You would be a good Ravenclaw but there's more to you than just wit and cleverness I see bravery as well. Hmm You could fit in Gryffindor too "
The hat went quiet as though as it was thinking about it. Hermione waited patiently, waiting for the hat to decide.
"You have both the qualities of a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor I see that you could do great in both of them Even so, you're more o
Luna Lovegood's Sorting Ceremony"Lovegood, Luna" Professor McGonagall called from the roll of parchment she was holding.
Luna walked slowly to the stool where Professor McGonagall awaited with the Sorting Hat. She looked around at all the students looking back at her, and she didn't feel nervous. She wasn't. She simply wasn't nervous. She was curious. Curious about what house she would be sorted into.
She sat on the stool. She thought that she could sense some Wrackspurts zooming around the hat. Maybe that was what the hat used to select the students She felt the Sorting Hat being put on her head and sliding down to her nose. The only thing she could now see was the inside of the hat.
Hmm Curious she heard a voice say inside her head.
"You're full of Wrackspurts, aren't you?" Luna thought.
Excuse me? How dare you? Full of what?
"Wrackpurts." Luna thought again. "They float into your ears and make your brain go fuzzy, you know That's how you sort the students, isn't it?
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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