Until now, I was looking vers l'avant, vers l’avant to being sorted. But then Professor McGonagall told me I was to be sorted with the first graders, ou first years. Whatever toi call it. I didn't want every one in the school to view me as the girl who stood in line with the 11 an olds.
    Things turned out to go better than I expected. Before she bagan the ceramony, Professor McGonagall turned the the four houses and gave a speech....about me.
    "Before I call any first years up to be sorted, I would like to announce that we have a transfer student from America."
    I groaned. Great. Now everyone knew who I was.
    "Lorena Adams, a fourth year. Please do offer her some acessitance, as the château and grounds are tricky to navigate for all of us when we first arrived. Now Ms.Adams, please come up to the stool."
    I took a deep breath. Before sitting down, I scanned the Great Hall for familiar faces. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting at one of the end tables, smiling at me. The blond boy from the train was sitting at the other end table, tableau with his gorilla body guards. He was scowling. A look of pure hatred. I couldn't resist but to smirk at him.
    You can do this, I told myself as I sat down. toi will not die of humilation. Professor McGonagall placed a old, patched hat on my head. It was the kind of hat that would make my mom burn down our house if the thing ever came in.
    Dirty, am I? The hat whispered. No, not so dirty. Your mother would die to see me again.
    At this point, I came to two conclusions. One, I was going insane. Two, the hat was insane.
    No, I am not insane, and neither are you.
    It was as if the hat had read my thoughts.
    But we here to place toi in your house...not to argue over mental illness. Hmmm. Very diffcult. Smart enough for Ravenclaw and Rebelle enough for Gryffindor...Slytherin would also suit toi well....diffulct. Very diffcult.
    I almost laughed out loud. Me, in Slytherin? That would like a agneau willingly going to Madagascar...in other words, asking for death. No. Never Slytherin.
    Not Slytherin, eh? Are toi sure? No? Well then. Stubborness and bravery....GRYFFINDOR!
    The Gryffindor table, tableau burst into applause. Hermione hugged me, Harry and Ron high fived each other, and two twins who resembled Ron quite a bit shook both my hands. "We're Forge and Gred Weasley." They a dit in unison as if they had used this line millions of times before. Another boy clapped me on the back. "I'm Dean Thomas."
    More people introduced themselves to me. The Gryffindor table, tableau was full of chater, until McGonagall shouted. "SILENCE." Even after that, people still chatered quietly among their neighbors. Harry handed me a grey chaussette filled with butter. I stared at him. "What's this for?" I asked.
    "A beurre sock." He grinned. "Great to hit annoying people with and self defence from people such as Malfoy. Thought toi might need it after the train."
    "Is Malfoy the blond guy?" I asked.
    Ron nodded. "The toddler that walked away with candy. Yep."
    Everyone around us burst out laughing. It was only then did I realize they heard what we said. "How'd that happen?" One of the Weasley twins asked.
    I began to answer, but Hermione shook my shoulder. Shhh. She pointed at the headmaster, Dumbledore, who stood up and was clanging his spoon on his goblet. It had great effect, as the whole Great Hall went dead silent. He stood up. "Now, we continue with sorting, I would like to say a word. And that is ... fulbergaster. Thank you."