Haydn rarely thought about his family name in terms of good and bad. It was an okay name, easy to write, and hard to butcher (unlike his name name) and stood closer to A, than to Z. So even if there still wasn't any food on the table at least he was finally sitting on something that wasn’t moving, while most of the first years were still nervously waiting for their turn. After a full day of travel, he wanted to eat, huddle in someplace with visible ceiling and maybe cry a little.
But they barely crawled to K (Ha, he was “K” too, if you think about it), and it looked like everyone took turns discussing the weather or whatever else with Sorting Hat.
They would be lucky to finish today.
Someone finally got triumphally sorted into Hufflepuff to which his neighbour on the left (he wasn't sure what she looked like aside from an enormous pile of dark curls, that he almost sat on and that he had to carefully move away from his hand and plate) gave a sad sigh. Haydn tried to crane his neck far enough to see what the sigh was about (maybe it was her relative?) but his position wasn't the best. He wasn't nearly tall enough to see much from his place in the middle of the hall and from under all those crazy curls.
He leaned so far away from the table that he started slowly slipping into the aisle and only the hand of his other neighbor at the last second stopped his disgraceful fall. The neighbor tsked, roughly put him back on the bench, and went back to his careful observation of the sorting process.
Haydn, ashamed and a little frightened, tried to sit calmly. But it was hard and everyone else was either glued to shouting hat or quietly snickering and whispering among themselves.
So Cornfoot started fiddling with one of the small fancy forks. Trying to balance it on his finger was fun enough until they reached P at which point he tangled the small fork into the pile of curls twice (no one noticed) and dropped it on the floor once. He thought about picking it up, but his tsking neighbour gave him a look so disapproving that he forgot about it immediately. Who needed those tiny forks anyway.
The table around him started shouting and politely clapping and Haydn craned his neck again and was finally able to see someone from his new classmates.
Oh, it was even a somewhat familiar face!

The girl with really light short hair. He saw her a few weeks ago when she was clutching her mother's hand and he was loitering and they were both in Diagon Alley. And then again in one shop or the other. At some point, he even laughed too loud when her mother dropped a purse after someone's owl screeched near her ear. The girl didn't like his laughter one bit and stared him dead in the eye with a really hilarious angry/frightened face.

So after girl calmly and carefully sat opposite his not-curly-haired-neighbour and nodded politely to a few congratulations, he waved. Her eyes grew even larger and she sharply turned away.
At least he could pass the rest of sorting trying to catch her in the act of staring at him from a corner of her eye.
Luckily there weren't a lot of letters after T.