, though there was no real need; Hagrid's size made him instantly obvious in any lineup.
‘He can't have left,’ said Ron, sounding slightly anxious.
‘Of course he hasn't,’ said Harry firmly.
‘You don't think he's ... hurt, or anything, do you?’ said Hermione uneasily.
‘No,’ said Harry at once.
‘But where is he, then?’
There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly, so that Neville, Parvati and Lavender could not hear, ‘Maybe he's not back yet. You know—from his mission—the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore.’
‘Yeah ... yeah, that'll be it,’ said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.
‘Who's that?’ she said sharply, pointing towards the middle of the staff table.
Harry's eyes followed hers. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat.
Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed
a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toadlike face and a pair
of prominent, pouchy eyes.
‘It's that Umbridge woman!’
‘Who?’ said Hermione.
‘She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!’
‘Nice cardigan,’ said Ron, smirking.
‘She works for Fudge!’ Hermione repeated, frowning. ‘What on earth's she doing here, then?’
‘Dunno ...’
Hermione scanned the staff table, her eyes narrowed.
‘No,’ she muttered, ‘no, surely not ...’
Harry did not understand what she was talking about but did not ask; his attention had been caught by Professor Grubbly-Plank who had just appeared behind the staff table; she worked her way along to the very end and
took the seat that ought to have been Hagrid's. That meant the first-years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of
scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizards hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.
The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.
The first-years’ faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the
unknown test that would determine to which house he belonged.
The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
‘Together we will build and teach!’
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, ‘We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.’
Said Ravenclaw, ‘We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest. ’
Said Gryffindor, ‘We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name, ’
Said Hufflepuff, ‘I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same. ’
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
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