Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not
Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be
great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you
on the way to greatness, no doubt about that -- no? Well, if you're sure
-- better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off
the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so
relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed
that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and
shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got
Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff
he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden,
horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.
He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat
Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned
back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair,
sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd
gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair
was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the
ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirtell, too, the nervous young man
from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple
turban.



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