A shaking, curly-haired first year named Frederick Webb tottered off the stool and joined the applauding Gryffindors. It was nothing like the jubilant, carefree whoops that had greeted Hermione on her Sorting night; everything was subdued, but the pride of lions swallowed up the little blonde first year without breaking rank. Most of the sixth and seventh-years were glaring steadfastly at the Head table, where Severus Snape sat in the Headmaster’s seat. 