Hagrid thumped in with his enormous physique and moleskin overcoat over his shoulders. He sat on a chair to the right of Professor McGonagall's—drenched in water and slightly shivery. Looking over at the Gryffindor table he waved enthusiastically. The Gryffindor friends all waved and grinned at him in return. Hagrid was Hogwarts' gamekeeper—a kind-hearted and loyal half-giant who was very fond of the Marauders and their friends, a sentiment which they returned full-heartedly.

The vast doors of the Great Hall opened revealing Professor McGonagall, leading a line of soaked and trembling students-although whether from cold or nerves none could tell. As they stood facing the house tables the stern professor strided to the middle of the line, placing a three-legged stool in front of them. She then set an old and worn out hat carefully on top of it. All noises died down as well-trained pupils and staff anticipated Sorting Hat's yearly song. Its tip twitched as an opening tore at the bottom of the hat. The opening , resembling a mouth, widened as it fell into a song.

Once, long ago, four friends united

By a single dream they so highly regarded,

To build a school of excellence and abundance,

Where youngsters would be educated in spellwork and craftship.

However, as the time of admission arrived,

Each chose a different set of virtues by which to abide.

Slytherin favored those with shrewdness and ambition,

Ravenclaw liked best those with quick minds and intuition,

To Gryffindor went the brave and the bold,

While Hufflepuff took any and all.

As time passed-tensions grew,

And allies started to argue,

Which broke into battles and duels and feuds,

Parting of Salazar caused a gloomy mood.

And so the houses got divided,

In me the founders confided,

My task is to sort you as they'd desire,

Yet today I will cross a line I haven't passed prior.

I must warn you of a danger that is near,

So imminent it instills fear,

Times so dark that only in the light of unity ye shall find salvation,

Woes inescapable unless fought with dedication.

Beware that not all friendships shall survive this storm.

As was the fate of our founders four

These friends are doomed to a tragic end.

Four friends inseparable, so united

One will be fooled,

One find himself in a field-forlorn and abandoned,

And one will perish at the hands of a foe-fouled by betrayal and fright.

So it goes, as they say, history repeats itself.

Lend your ears,

Mark my words,

I have warned you of the curse.

Now that I've done what I must,

It's time for you to sit on a stool and endow me with your trust.

There were several moments of rigid silence as the audience broke into hesitant claps punctured with hurried and unsettled whispers. The sorting hat usually reserves singing about each of the houses and their noble history, but it had clearly felt the need to expand beyond that this time.

"Who do you think it was referring to? The four doomed friends?" Lily whispered thoughtfully, looking around the table at her friends.

"I don't know but I sure as hell don't envy them," Sirius replied gloomily.

Soon they were interrupted as Professor McGonagall, who was standing with a long white parchment in hands, threw a stern look around the hall. The tiny figures standing beside her seemed like they were either on the brink of puking or planning a way to dig a hole into which they could successfully disappear. The Professor cleared her throat and proceeded to read the long list of names of the pupils waiting to be sorted into their houses.

"Dickens, Tom," she called.

Tom Dickens turned out to be a Raveclaw and was soon seated next to thrilled Glideroy Lockhart, looking both relieved and encouraged.

None of the tennagers paid much attention to the sorting except on several occasions when the Gryffindors were joined by miniature versions of them in which case the house of golden and maroon boomed with loud cheers and whistles.

When all were sorted into their rightful houses and were warmly welcomed, the keen faces turned toward the teacher's table. Dumbledore was standing straight in all his majesty and smiling gladly at them. He was wearing deep purple robes with tiny sparkling silver stars. His pointed hat, resembling very much the sorting hat was slightly tilted to the side covering his snow white hair.

"My dear friends, it is my pleasure to welcome you all for a new year here at Hogwarts. As my dear friend Virginia used to say 'One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well,'" he completed, putting a special emphasis on the word "dined", "so let us dine." 

Seldom had the long-bearded wizard occupied his seat as the golden plates and goblets filled with exquisite meals and drinks very much to the liking of all except the ghosts who envied those who could still enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Nearly Headless Nick was eyeing Sirius longingly, who was gulping sausages shamelessly, but for a reason different than usually occurred with the Gryffindor heartthrob.

The next forty minutes were filled with the sounds of cutlery on plates and requests to pass one of the wide varieties of food lying just beyond their grasp. Up and down the long table were being passed shepherd's pie, steak and kidney pie, pork pie, lamb shanks pie, roast beef, roast chicken and roasted fish, peas and carrots and sausages and pumpkin juice, potatoes- roasted and fried and baked and many more foods which would be too long a list to mention here. 

When everybody had eaten their fill and belts were loosened considerably, the plates cleared stainless, and all attention was returned to the headmaster.

"Let me begin with the usual reminder that the forbidden forest as the name very much suggests is forbidden to all students," the headmaster's gaze lingered on the four boys sitting next to Nearly Headless Nick.

"It seems that I am missing out on something," the headmaster said thoughtfully. "Oh, but of course. With a heavy weight on my heart I must inform you that the Inter-house Quidditch championship will not take place this year."

James sat upright, his eyes widened in disbelief and alarm as he exchanged looks with Sirius across the table. Marlene McKinnoned growled loudly. All around the hall students howled and complained in bewilderment and outrage.

"However, this will be replaced with an equally if not more exciting event," Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at the hall mysteriously, "this year Hogwarts is going to host the Triwizard Tournament."

These words were soon followed by low murmurs as the headmaster broke into a wide grin.

"Wow. I only ever read about those in history books," Remus whispered astonishedly.

Even James had relaxed and was now whispering excitedly with Sirius.

"I take it most of you are familiar with the Triwizard Tournament," said the headmaster, "even so, for those of you who may not  be as informed on the matter, the Triwizard Tournament is a championship held between three wizarding schools-Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrong."

"The largest schools of wizardry in Europe," mumbled Lily aloud, more to herself than anyone else.

"This has been an effective means to bring witches and wizards around the world together. Although the Triwizard Tournament is by no means a new event, it has been stopped for several decades now, because of unpleasant incidents prior."

"However, the heads of schools along with the Ministry of Magic have concluded that this is as good a time as ever to attempt to rekindle the fire. As the Sorting hat has very correctly warned us, now, more than ever, we must unite. And that extends much further than the walls of this castle."

"One champion will be chosen to represent each of the schools. It will be up to them to go past the tasks put before them at the end of which gold and honor for their respective schools are awaiting them. More about the choosing process will be revealed to you in the right time," Dumbledore smiled warmly, "now let us go to our rooms where you will find well-tucked and cozy beds made ready for you."

All stood up and students started shuffling out of the Great Hall. James was just going to exit with the rest, he had already reached halfway through the hall when somebody yelled loudly.   

"Potter!"

"Uh, what? What happened?" the dark-haired boy slewed round confusedly.

An annoyed Lily Evans stood facing him, surrounded by a group of first-year students. She gestured at them, her eyebrows raised pointedly.

"If they assigned you as the headboy you might as well do your duties," she said crossly, folding her arms. 

"Oh," he said, "I had totally forgotten!" 

A few short strides later James Potter had joined them and was already commanding orders. 

"Right. So, get together all of you." 

The first-years piled up anxiously. He flashed a kind-hearted, cheerful smile which seemed to reassure them slightly.

"Listen here fidgets," James continued in his casual manner.

Lily stepped on his foot. He turned to face her, frowning.

"What?" he mouthed astonishedly.

"First years," she whispered sternly.

"Right, first years, I'm James, this, here is Lily. We are headboy and girl which means that you have to do everything we say and not ask annoying questions."

A few of the girls at the back giggled softly as a particularly tall and blonde girl whispered something in their ears.

"What's going on back there?" James asked.

"Nothing," the blonde answered confidently, "we were just wondering if you were.."

"Yes?" James asked, intrigued.

"Y'know, a couple?"

"Oh," James said, turning to Lily, his mouth twitching.

"No, as a matter-of-fact, we aren't! Not that it's anybody's business," Lily spluttered, her lips pressed closely together.

"Good question, Amelia," James winked at her, sorting hat's hatstall had made her name memorable. 

"Okay, enough of talking, let's get going. First years, please follow me," Lily finished, turning around and leading their way out.

By the time their heads had landed on soft pillows- well fed and among friends, they had forgotten all about the sorting hat and its prophecy.