The sorting hat’s voice drawled as he finished his song. James stood off to the side of the crowd, unimpressed. He had already heard about all this from his father. He knew about the sorting hat, the charmed ceiling, the giant squid, the horseless carraiges. It was all old news.
James figured he wasn’t going to be called for at least another ten minutes. He resolved to look around the hall. It was exactly as his father told him it would be.
The thin, yet robust woman with her hair in a bun called the first name. “Black, Sirius.” The loud voice echoed against the stone walls as a young boy with hair as dark as his name walked towards the sorting hat. James’ father had told him about the Blacks, too.
James watched nonchalantly, leaning against one of the large, travertine spires; his arms crossed coolly against his chest.
“Gryffindor!” the hat shouted a few moments later. The red table erupted in applause. The young boy’s face fell for a moment but stretched into a proud smile as he practically skipped to the red table. James’ eyebrows met in confusion.
Another name was called. And another. And another.
James grew impatient. He casually sauntered around the perimeter of the group and towards the front of the crowd as the old woman called yet another name.
“Evans, Lily.” A tall, thin girl with long, brilliant, ginger hair and even brighter green eyes, roughly shoved James aside and confidently strode towards the stool and hat. An odd smile crept upon her face as she sat upon the stool and the hat was placed atop her head. James adjusted his glasses that had almost been knocked from his face and looked on to the girl who was responsible. His chin hung open as he thought her skin resembled the porcelain of the dolls his mother kept from her girlhood. Lily’s eyes gleamed in the warm light of the room as the hat vigorously called out, “Gryffindor!” She giggled and jumped off of the wooden stool. The Gryffindor table once again erupted in applause and encouraging shouts. James looked on in amazement. He remembered a painting he found in one of his father’s many books. A woman floated across the ocean on a large seashell. Her long, wavy, red hair was tossed about her face from the sea breeze. She held a tress over her ‘naughty parts.’ James almost giggled, as he did the first time he stumbled across the painting. It was Venus.
James felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Lily noticed the boy staring at her. She shrugged her shoulders and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’ James’ face blushed as he quickly nodded acceptance. She smiled girlishly and James’ face turned a deeper shade of pink. Turning back towards the front of the hall, he smiled. He decided he would marry her.