The train slowed to a stop, gravity gently pulling Five back into his seat.
His plain black robes fluttered as he stood up, knees clicking as he did so.

The old-timer had changed into his school winter uniform - well, his new one - about half an hour ago, slightly sad to be tucking his much loved academy clothes into his black leather trunk - which had to be left on the train for some strange, un-questioned reason.

During the long, and uneventful train ride to Hogwarts, Cicero had explained to Five how he had happened to of witnessed the events that took place earlier - saying to him
"That black haired person that was just in this compartment with you, is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He's the Slytherin prefect, nothing but straight A's and charm that boy."

From the very start the platinum haired boy then seemed to have realised that Five wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and so decided upon leaving the chatting to a minimum - which Five had appreciated.

It was good to know that he wasn't an imbecile.

The two stepped off the train and onto the hight platform, a witch in her early 30's approaching them in quick succession.

She was tall and lanky, with soft brown hair that was pulled tightly into a low bun - a pointed black hat sitting upon her head.
She separated them, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall and telling them in a semi-strict tone on how Five had to be sorted.

Cicero waved and gave a grin, smiling as he clambered onto a carriage pulled by skinny horse like things that had large angular wings tucked away - the dark skin stretched over the bones.

The old teen was lead to a small, rocky boat that seemed to be unstable - a bright, orange lantern hanging off a short upright pole.

The cold air lashed and ran through Five's uncovered, brown hair - the smell of rain and something unidentifiable clinging onto the air.

Professor McGonagall turned to him, giving him a slightly sincere smile.
"Because you're not an actual fist year, Five, you'll be sorted first. So I want you to stand at the very front of the line."
After that the two sat on the boat in silence, which seemed to be tugged slowly towards a large, looming castle by an invisible string.

Warm lights spilled out of the hundreds of little, rectangular windows - the dark shadows of little people? with large ears scurrying past and blocking the light for a split second.

The boats stopped moving, coming to a smooth stop at the rocky base of the castle.
Steps cascaded down from the large school, exquisitely cut and placed in such a way - that it seemed to blend in perfectly between the chunks of rock on either side of each one.

A trail of canary lights guided them up, large metal gates standing tall and wide - opening its mouth to allow the professor and other school kids, and not kids, through.

Moments later Five found himself amongst a large group of smaller students, who were all chattering loudly about how they were so excited and so very nervous for the sorting.
The old teen simply stood far away to the side as he possibly could, still trapped in between the crowd of smaller children.

Incoherent yelling was heard as large masses of water balloons were dropped onto the first years in the middle - completely missing those to the side.
The cold water spilling over them, high pitched screams from both girls and boys bouncing off the polished stone walls.

McGonagall captured the attention of everyone by yelling angrily to the poltergeist, who happened to be named Peeves, about not tantalising the first years - to which he replied with a "Try your best old hag!"

Five silently thanked Riddle for the advice, not really in the mood for being drenched in freezing water at the moment.
Once the professor had calmed down and dried the victims, she huffed and straightened her pointed hat - pushing open the large wooden doors and allowing light and chatter to spill through before disappearing.

There were five, large tables sitting in the great hall.
There was one at what seemed to be the front of the large place, teachers both old an young seated upon those seats - Five immediately recognising the old face of Armando Dippet.
The remaining four tables held hundreds of students, all adorning black cloaks either green, blue, red or orange interiors, along with striped silk ties that matched the robes - some of the students not wearing the cloaks over their blazer, deeming it to be not cold enough.

A lone beige stool sat on the floor, a little further from where the professors were chatting.
McGonagall reappeared with an old, ragged hat in her hands - discoloured and well worn.
She placed it on the stool as Dippet stood up.

"To those who are just starting their first year at Hogwarts, welcome! To those who aren't, welcome back to another brilliant year!" He squeaked, opening his arms as if to embrace the whole school
"Today we have another batch of first years, along with a new fifth year joining us today - I expect each and every one of you to welcome them with open arms!" He concluded, before sitting back into a large chair.

The scrawny hat split open at the brim, forming what seemed to be a demented mouth.
The mouths of the first years - excluding Five - all widened as it sang about the four houses, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and how a saviour? would save them from the treacherous following years.

After a round of loud applause, Mcgonagall pulled a yellow scroll from her robe pockets - and read out the list of names.

"Hargreeves, Five!" She hollered, somewhat shocked expressions overtaking the faces of many of the students.

Five strolled up to the stool casually, and seated himself onto it.
Eye twitching as the dirty thing sat itself upon his head.

It took several minutes, but the old sorting hat eventually shouted in a loud booming voice.

"SLYTHERIN!"

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