Sorting Ceremony
The moment had come. She was going to be sorted. She was going to be a Slytherin, at last. The teacher called her over.
"Natasha Blackwood!"
Her heart beat as loudly as ever. It felt as if it were going to blast out of her chest. Everyone was looking at her as she walked over to the Sorting Hat. It was patched and frayed. It looked in no condition to be doing this. How old was it?
The teacher put the hat on her head. It didn't announce her house at once but took a few moments to decide. She had to be in Slytherin, please! She was a parseltongue, it had to be Slytherin. She was cunning and ambitious. It was the only house for her. The only other house she could ever belong to was Ravenclaw.
"Let's see, you have a lot going on there. Mixes of different things. A bit hard of a decision, honestly."
She took a few deep breaths. What if she was put in Hufflepuff? Or worse yet, Gryffindor? All her worst nightmares flashed into her head. No. She was a Slytherin. Whatever this hat did she was always going to be one.
"Well, better be GRYFFINDOR!"
A beat.
Cheers arose from the Gryffindor table and everyone clapped. But for Natasha, the world was spinning and spinning. Everything froze. Her heart went on overdrive. Her legs could barely pick herself up. She went to the Gryffindor table, to where everyone was sitting.
The world seemed to freeze and her eyes got blurry. She didn't belong here. This was wrong!
"Welcome to Gryffindor!" One of the boys sitting next to her said.
"I have to go." I said quickly, getting off my chair. I needed a moment to process this. I needed a moment to wake up from this stupid nightmare! Why won't I wake up!
I ran all the way down the corridors. I didn't care where I was going. Hot tears prickled down my face. I didn't belong here. Why? What was wrong with that stupid old hat! She yelled in frustration. Wake up! This is not real. This is not possible. She wiped the tears of her face as she kept walking. If she walked far enough, she would probably get lost and go die somewhere. That was better than returning to this stupid, idiotic absolutely awful reality!
Of all the houses there were. She had to get sorted into the worst one. The filthy goody two shoes, heroic Gryffindor. Everything she was not. Everything she hated. She would never truly be a Gryffindor. Because deep in her heart, she knew she was a Slytherin. Ans she would do everything to prove it.
"Natasha Blackwood!"
Her heart beat as loudly as ever. It felt as if it were going to blast out of her chest. Everyone was looking at her as she walked over to the Sorting Hat. It was patched and frayed. It looked in no condition to be doing this. How old was it?
The teacher put the hat on her head. It didn't announce her house at once but took a few moments to decide. She had to be in Slytherin, please! She was a parseltongue, it had to be Slytherin. She was cunning and ambitious. It was the only house for her. The only other house she could ever belong to was Ravenclaw.
"Let's see, you have a lot going on there. Mixes of different things. A bit hard of a decision, honestly."
She took a few deep breaths. What if she was put in Hufflepuff? Or worse yet, Gryffindor? All her worst nightmares flashed into her head. No. She was a Slytherin. Whatever this hat did she was always going to be one.
"Well, better be GRYFFINDOR!"
A beat.
Cheers arose from the Gryffindor table and everyone clapped. But for Natasha, the world was spinning and spinning. Everything froze. Her heart went on overdrive. Her legs could barely pick herself up. She went to the Gryffindor table, to where everyone was sitting.
The world seemed to freeze and her eyes got blurry. She didn't belong here. This was wrong!
"Welcome to Gryffindor!" One of the boys sitting next to her said.
"I have to go." I said quickly, getting off my chair. I needed a moment to process this. I needed a moment to wake up from this stupid nightmare! Why won't I wake up!
I ran all the way down the corridors. I didn't care where I was going. Hot tears prickled down my face. I didn't belong here. Why? What was wrong with that stupid old hat! She yelled in frustration. Wake up! This is not real. This is not possible. She wiped the tears of her face as she kept walking. If she walked far enough, she would probably get lost and go die somewhere. That was better than returning to this stupid, idiotic absolutely awful reality!
Of all the houses there were. She had to get sorted into the worst one. The filthy goody two shoes, heroic Gryffindor. Everything she was not. Everything she hated. She would never truly be a Gryffindor. Because deep in her heart, she knew she was a Slytherin. Ans she would do everything to prove it.
Sorting Ceremony
The Hatstall
Skylar walks into the Great Hall with wide-eyes. Despite already knowing what to expect from the books she read, she still cannot stop the feeling of amazement as she looks at the glowing candles hovering above. “Great” was an understatement. This place was massive! Four long dining tables stretched the length of the room with benches on either side. Each of them have the respective house banner above them: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Solomon Lear, the Headmaster, looms over them with his impressive height. Yet, despite his intimidating exterior, he smiles down on them pleasantly and ushers them in. However, Skylar could not help but notice the slight limp the older man had.
A feast was laid out family-style down the center of each of the four tables. Goblets full of cheery, fruity drinks and large, full plates of hearty dishes sat in front of each student. The walls were lined with massive living portraits that chatted among themselves. It was loud, the roar of conversation as well as the excitement of many of the students as they waited to be sorted. Skylar tries but fails to tamp down her excitement, a wide grin plastered on her face from the anticipation of it all.
Once they were all inside, the doors closed behind the last student as if on its own. The Headmaster quietly makes his way to the front of the room, his movement demanding silence.
"Welcome first year students. I am Solomon Lear, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As it is our tradition here we are going to engage in our first ceremony known as the sorting ceremony. The sorting hat has been a part of our school's tradition since the time of Godric Gryffindor, one of this institution's founding wizards. This hat is very much sentient."
“Sentient? I am intelligent!”
A voice chimes in from... A pointed witches hat that was tattered and worn. It moves about on its own accord, with the most offended expression Skylar has ever seen on a hat. Several kids around her giggled and Skylar had to fight the urge to laugh as well. None of the Professors seemed even remotely surprised although one rolled their eyes a bit. It seems the Hat made the same joke every year.
"Sorting Hat will be placed upon your head. It won't hurt one bit. The Sorting Hat will look into your heart and mind and determine the best place for you: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. As most of you must know, each of those houses possesses their own characteristics, their own values and their own Head of House."
"The house that will be chosen for you shall represent qualities that are truly present within each of you. Your future house shall be like a second family. You will also be able to gather points and once we reach the end of the year, the house with the most house points shall win the House Championship Cup. What you need to know is that the Sorting Hat is never wrong, once you are sorted your House will not change for the duration of your time in Hogwarts."
One by one students begin walking up to the platform. Skylar watches as the Hat sorts everyone to their respective houses, some looking joyous, some looking confused, and some looking mad. Which one will I be? Skylar quickly squashed that thought. She will make most of her years here, no matter the house.
Soon it was her turn. Skylar walks up to the platform and sits down on the uncomfortable stool. She hopes no one will notice her wiping her clammy hands on her robe.
“Ah, I see… You have a great spirit, young one. Many dreams, many ambitions. A desire to prove yourself and live your life to the fullest.”
Skylar nods at that. Sounds about right.
"Just like a Gryffindor.”
Nevermind. Skylar did not nod at that.
“Hmm. Interesting. Not too fond of Gryffindor, are you? With your studious nature and curious personality, your desire for knowledge makes you feel like you belong in Ravenclaw, correct?”
Yes! The Hat understands! But for some reason, the Hat falls silent. Like really quiet.
“Hey, Sorting Hat?”
Skylar is getting nervous now. She probably should not have called the Hat out like that, but Skylar could have sworn that none of the other Sortings took this long. Did she do something wrong? She squirms a little on the rickety wooden stool and looks around. The Hall was silent as everyone stared. Whispers were rising and all Skylar could make out was “Hatstall.” Finally, the Sorting Hat spoke.
“My my, you are quite an interesting one. You have full potential to be either Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. In Gryffindor, your ambitions shall grow fruit and your dreams will have direction. However, in Ravenclaw, your mind will flourish with knowledge and your eyes will be open to the world around you.”
Skylar pauses at that. On one hand, she wants to learn everything she can, understand everything wisdom has to offer. However, she truly dreams of making a change. To be the person everyone looks up to, and to have a purpose in this vast world. To explore the unknown, to help those in need.
“Well, I think a decision has already been made. You may not understand now, but soon you will see that you are able to reach your full potential. Only, however, if you make the right choices.”
Skylar takes a deep breath and looks ahead.
“Thank you.”
That was the last thing she says to the Sorting Hat before it yells out:
“GRYFFINDOR!”
sta • 5 | eva • 6 | str • 4 wis • 7 | arc • 7 | acc • 6 |
Shop | ENCYCLOPEDIA | Gallery I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. |
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Sorting Ceremony
Krishnavi was sitting in the first year table, lost in thought. She had been waiting for this moment her whole life, but now that she was here, she couldn't have been more unsure. Although her mother had been a Hufflepuff, Krishnavi wasn't so sure. She would be the happiest in Gryffindor, "where dwell the brave at heart". Would she be a Ravenclaw? Did she value wisdom? Her brain was set on Gryffindor, so it refused, but her heart screamed YES! She did value knowledge above all... No. She would be a Gryffindor. A feeble voice inside her head asked, "But are you confident? Have you ever done something brave? Do you feel Gryffindor-ish?"Anything but Slytherin, Krishnavi thought.
"Pavaskar, Krishnavi"
She snapped back into reality. It was time. With fear and confusion in her heart, Krishnavi made her way to the tattered old Sorting Hat. It doesn't look like a smart hat... , she thought, but then what should a smart hat look like? Suddenly, everything went black. The hat smelt as if hundreds of children had worn it before her. But then, they have, thought Krishnavi.Here it goes.
Hmmm... I believe this won't take long
Really? I thought I would be a tough one.
Most of you are, that's for sure, but you point in only one direction...
Anything but Slytherin...
RAVENCLAW!
A cheer erupted from the Ravenclaw Table. And deep inside her heart, Krishnavi knew, this was where she was meant to be.
"Pavaskar, Krishnavi"
She snapped back into reality. It was time. With fear and confusion in her heart, Krishnavi made her way to the tattered old Sorting Hat. It doesn't look like a smart hat... , she thought, but then what should a smart hat look like? Suddenly, everything went black. The hat smelt as if hundreds of children had worn it before her. But then, they have, thought Krishnavi.Here it goes.
Hmmm... I believe this won't take long
Really? I thought I would be a tough one.
Most of you are, that's for sure, but you point in only one direction...
Anything but Slytherin...
RAVENCLAW!
A cheer erupted from the Ravenclaw Table. And deep inside her heart, Krishnavi knew, this was where she was meant to be.
When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.
Sorting Ceremony
Tessie walked into the Great Hall right behind the Professor. Her face remained blank, composed, though her eyes moved around, little impressed by the grand size of the Hall. She noticed the 4 distinct tables of the 4 houses but also the small details. Her gaze travelled upwards as she admired the candles being hung by an invisible force. Tessie also noticed the sculptures and ornaments on the wall but before she could fully decipher their meanings, the Professor abruptly turned around as she reached the hat.
She gave a brief welcome and explained how the Sorting Hat works and the housing system: When a name was called, the student would step forward. The hat would decide their house. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Slytherin and it has the ultimate power to sort them.
Sissy stood amongst the first year crowd, all eager to get sorted. They shifted constantly, whispering, fidgeting, bumping into one another without thought. Their excitement filled the air like heat and moist air.
She found it irritating.
She avoided contact where she could, She tried to avoid the bumps, the shoulder to shoulder, the buzzing excitement, the warm air from whispers clinging to her cheeks and the overall contact from everyone. The Professor started calling out people’s names.
Names were called. One by one, students stumbled forward. The hat took seconds for some, longer for others. Each announcement was followed by loud cheers, applause and excited movement.
Tessie did not join in.
She already knew where she belonged.
I mean it was no suspense really, her whole family were noble Slytherin members. She looked over at the Slytherin table, observing and analysing the best seat.
She crossed her arms and waited.
The crowd slowly disappeared, she saw people after people getting sorted into their house.
And then she was the only one standing: the only one left to be sorted.
“Tes Cadell” she finally exclaimed with a tone of finality.
Tessie walked up the few stairs, her footsteps silence against the stone floor with not even a trace of excitement following her face, she sat on the chair aware of the hundreds of eyes staring at her, but she did not meet any.
The Professor got hold of the Hat for the last time this year.
It had not yet touched her head.
It was not even close.
“SLYTHERIN”
Just as expected.
Without any physical contact and a clear distance, the Hat felt a strong connection between Tes Cadell and the House of Slytherin.
Murmurs rippled through the hall, the Hat has never shouted so sure. For a moment, silence.
Then the Slytherin table erupted, cheers echoed in the Hall, students leaned forward, clapping with strength, some exchanging knowing glances, others watching her with open approval and pride.
They all knew what it meant, the Hat did not hesitate, she always belonged with Slytherin.
Sissy stood slowly. Her expression did not soften, but there was something unmistakable in her bahaviour. She turned toward the Slytherin table, their cheers continuing as she approached, as if welcoming not a first year, but one of their own returning to her rightful place.
She gave a brief welcome and explained how the Sorting Hat works and the housing system: When a name was called, the student would step forward. The hat would decide their house. Gryffindor. Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw. Slytherin and it has the ultimate power to sort them.
Sissy stood amongst the first year crowd, all eager to get sorted. They shifted constantly, whispering, fidgeting, bumping into one another without thought. Their excitement filled the air like heat and moist air.
She found it irritating.
She avoided contact where she could, She tried to avoid the bumps, the shoulder to shoulder, the buzzing excitement, the warm air from whispers clinging to her cheeks and the overall contact from everyone. The Professor started calling out people’s names.
Names were called. One by one, students stumbled forward. The hat took seconds for some, longer for others. Each announcement was followed by loud cheers, applause and excited movement.
Tessie did not join in.
She already knew where she belonged.
I mean it was no suspense really, her whole family were noble Slytherin members. She looked over at the Slytherin table, observing and analysing the best seat.
She crossed her arms and waited.
The crowd slowly disappeared, she saw people after people getting sorted into their house.
And then she was the only one standing: the only one left to be sorted.
“Tes Cadell” she finally exclaimed with a tone of finality.
Tessie walked up the few stairs, her footsteps silence against the stone floor with not even a trace of excitement following her face, she sat on the chair aware of the hundreds of eyes staring at her, but she did not meet any.
The Professor got hold of the Hat for the last time this year.
It had not yet touched her head.
It was not even close.
“SLYTHERIN”
Just as expected.
Without any physical contact and a clear distance, the Hat felt a strong connection between Tes Cadell and the House of Slytherin.
Murmurs rippled through the hall, the Hat has never shouted so sure. For a moment, silence.
Then the Slytherin table erupted, cheers echoed in the Hall, students leaned forward, clapping with strength, some exchanging knowing glances, others watching her with open approval and pride.
They all knew what it meant, the Hat did not hesitate, she always belonged with Slytherin.
Sissy stood slowly. Her expression did not soften, but there was something unmistakable in her bahaviour. She turned toward the Slytherin table, their cheers continuing as she approached, as if welcoming not a first year, but one of their own returning to her rightful place.
Last edited by Tes Cadell on 25 Feb 2026, 04:50, edited 1 time in total.
"That's crap-puccino" Sta 5 | Eva 6 | Str 2 | Wis 7 | Arc 9 | Acc 6 |
ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅ ʜᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ’ꜱ
Sorting Ceremony
Artie walked up the magnificent staircase that led to the great hall, his eyes wandering around as he walked, his mouth agape. He had never seen something so large, well, been inside something so large, so grand. His parents had taken him to London when he was younger, and he'd seen Big Ben, but this, this was something completely different. He stepped through the large, grand doors, spinning around and bumping into some of those around him as he looked everywhere. The ceiling was so tall, the tables so long, the room so wide, he felt like an ant trapped inside a very large jar.
He moved through the group of children, curiosity and surprise etched across his face. He watched as the paintings moved, talking to students. Watched the candles that were floating effortlessly in the air. It was all so... spectacular.
He pushed his way towards the front of the group, easily sneaking under arms and past other students. He wanted to watch. When you tell a boy that magic is real after 10 years, that boy wants to know everything possible with magic, all the amazing things that it could do, the fun that it could bring. He watched as the tall man mounted to his position in front of all of the students. He smiled up at him, giddy with excitement.
Godric Gryffindor, what a peculiar name.
He thought to himself with a snicker. He looked around at the other children around him, humming as he rocked back and forth. He was excited. This was his brand new start, maybe, maybe he would finally make a few friends.
The ceremony continued on, and Artie zoned off into his own thoughts. His eyes continued to move around the room, only pulling back to focus as the hat on the stool began to sing at them. He let out a giggle. Hats could talk. They could sing even.
He watched as other students were sorted, noticing as others clapped and joining along with them. Eventually, he was called to the stage, mounting it quickly, a smile on his face. He sat down on the stool, feeling the hat as it was placed atop his head. He waited for what felt like forever. All of a sudden, the hat shouted,
"Gryffindor!"
He looked around, standing up and searching for the table he was supposed to go to. He sat down somewhere in the middle, his eyes landing on the mounds of food in front of him. He grabbed a turkey leg, biting into it before turning to those next to him, giving them a toothy smile and a thumbs up.
This would work; he would work here. He would like it here.
He thought to himself before engaging in conversation with some of the other children around him.
He moved through the group of children, curiosity and surprise etched across his face. He watched as the paintings moved, talking to students. Watched the candles that were floating effortlessly in the air. It was all so... spectacular.
He pushed his way towards the front of the group, easily sneaking under arms and past other students. He wanted to watch. When you tell a boy that magic is real after 10 years, that boy wants to know everything possible with magic, all the amazing things that it could do, the fun that it could bring. He watched as the tall man mounted to his position in front of all of the students. He smiled up at him, giddy with excitement.
Godric Gryffindor, what a peculiar name.
He thought to himself with a snicker. He looked around at the other children around him, humming as he rocked back and forth. He was excited. This was his brand new start, maybe, maybe he would finally make a few friends.
The ceremony continued on, and Artie zoned off into his own thoughts. His eyes continued to move around the room, only pulling back to focus as the hat on the stool began to sing at them. He let out a giggle. Hats could talk. They could sing even.
He watched as other students were sorted, noticing as others clapped and joining along with them. Eventually, he was called to the stage, mounting it quickly, a smile on his face. He sat down on the stool, feeling the hat as it was placed atop his head. He waited for what felt like forever. All of a sudden, the hat shouted,
"Gryffindor!"
He looked around, standing up and searching for the table he was supposed to go to. He sat down somewhere in the middle, his eyes landing on the mounds of food in front of him. He grabbed a turkey leg, biting into it before turning to those next to him, giving them a toothy smile and a thumbs up.
This would work; he would work here. He would like it here.
He thought to himself before engaging in conversation with some of the other children around him.
Tremble, little lion man.
~ a life ain't a life till you live it ~
Sorting Ceremony
The actions of our lives were invariably conjugated in the sweet, gentle past tense as the memories we revisited, somehow lovelier than we had left them, dwelled in that quiet province of grammar. "In the beginning was the Word," but let's not talk about pre-diluvian times. Let it be the first sentence of our story portending the newest and bravest chapter of our protagonist's life: Those were the days when Roland was so unpardonably childish as not to have realised that everything must, eventually, come to an end.
━━━━━━━ ♔ ━━━━━━━
Roland's blue eyes swept across the Great Hall, alight with almost alchemically pure joy that his thin eyelashes could hardly dare to veil. Although he was a "Muggle-born", it hadn't taken more than forty-eight hours for the boy to accustom himself to the normally jaw-dropping fact that he was a wizard. Yes, a bloody wizard! Luckily enough, Roland was dramatic only when it came to the original meaning of the word, 'of or relating to drama'. And the scenery revealing itself now so generously before his lustrous eyes was infitine-times more enthralling than the most majestic production ever mounted by the National Theatre.
The boy was used to consider himself lucky compared to his father, who grew up in a world where the most common of household appliances was like a new science and the most groundbreaking invention was the tape recorder. 'Now, I'm not just lucky, but also blessed,' Roland mused, 'I'm witnessing this!' Even the mere idea that he was going to spend the next seven years here was enough to fill the Marin boy with a mixture of awe and that specific sort of reverent dread often reserved for the divine.
Although navigating the Great Hall was a rather severe test of his patience, largely because his eleven-year-old legs were thoroughly uncooperative, forcing him into an undignified, scurrying trot, he managed to wedge his small frame into the crowd. Along with his peers, he had been briefed on the Sorting Ceremony, and Roland felt as though he had unearthed yet another reflection of the wizarding populace's undeniably fatalistic tendencies. The motto of 'the customer is always right' simply did not apply anywhere here, much like the notion that 'the wizard did not choose the wand, but the wand chose the wizard'. Similarly, sorting a student into one of the four houses via a standardised examination, a psychological evaluation, or indeed their own preference, was considered quite unsuitable. Instead, the task was delegated to a wise hat (yeah, an ancient, threadbare, yet -supposedly- wise hat). The Muggle phenomenon of being crippled by regret over one's university choices, therefore, seemed entirely irrelevant at Hogwarts. The burden of responsibility rested exclusively upon this sacred relic. It was, indeed, a great relief, Roland thought, and commenced to wait for the 'actual stuff'.
During the initial minutes he witnessed the centuries-old ceremony, Roland had come to believe that the Hat was not of a consistent temperament. This surrealist textile product was somewhat unpredictable in its use of the ability to speak, which had been bestowed upon it by some sorcerer playing god. The Hat engaged in lengthy conversations with some students, while he merely shouted the names of their houses to others. It might arouse suspicions to see the judge conversing with either the defendant or complainant before the hearing, and now, Roland, began to wonder as to whether some students were favoured by the Hat.
It would be a prevarication to pretend that Roland did not worry that, at a certain point, this waiting, should it drag on, might give way to the sort of boredom known to couples whose long years together have worn their feelings thin. Mercifully, just after the boy who was sorted into Gryffindor, his name was announced: Marin, Roland Domagoj. The letter 'j' denoted the 'y' sound (as in 'yard') in the Slavic languages, and this was a small phonetic truth that, Roland suspected, seldom, if ever, crossed non-Slavic minds. Still, he sat down on the small chair, somewhat annoyed by the pronunciation of his name, though not enough to dim his twinkly-eyed expression. His dangling feet swung like a pendulum as the hat was perched on his head.
The hat, feeling Roland's blond hair on its fabric, "You want to shine," muttered, and this echoed through the Great Hall, in one sense a declaration of the obvious, in another a prophecy destined to fulfil itself. "I can neither confirm nor deny," Roland muttered in back, playfully, privately suspecting the Hat had little need of either. "Hmmm," the Hat relieved a long sigh, as if wanting to prolong the dramatic effect, and Roland enjoyed the anticipation. Having claimed "I know just the right place for you," the fanciest fabric ever finally declared his final eviction: "Better be... GRYFFINDOR!"
As applause and chatter swelled in the Great Hall, Roland Domagoj began his way toward the Gryffindor Table, to which he had been sorted solely on the plainly stated grounds of his desire to shine, its length encircled by lion-crested, crimson banners.
| sta • 6 | eva • 5 | str • 2 THEATRE KID wis • 9 | arc • 7 | acc • 6 | the muggle condition THROUGH⠀THE⠀YEARS every step a scene worth watching |
Sorting Ceremony
Rhys is in absolute awe when he walks into the Great Hall. The floating candles, the ceiling enchanted to mirror the sky—his parents had described it so many times, but nothing compared to standing beneath it himself. He was very excited when he got his letter
He tells himself he isn’t nervous about the Sorting. His parents will love him no matter what house he ends up in. Still, as the names are called one by one, a quiet buzz of anticipation builds in his chest. Not fear—just the restless energy of waiting for something important.
It feels like half an hour before he hears it, though it’s barely been ten minutes.
“Jackson, Rhys!”
He takes a steady breath, steps forward, and sits. The chair is tall, the hall is silent, but Rhys feels strangely grounded. The Hat barely settles on his head before it speaks.
“Hmm, interesting. Quite smart, very brave too.”
Rhys sits a little straighter, He waits for the Hat’s decision.
“A good heart too. I know where you belong.”
A heartbeat of silence.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The Gryffindor table erupts in applause and cheers. Rhys’s breath leaves him in a rush, half-laugh, half-relief. The Hat is lifted from his head, and he hops down from the stool.
He walks toward the Gryffinfor table with a grin on his face and finds a seat with the other first year Gryffindors.
He tells himself he isn’t nervous about the Sorting. His parents will love him no matter what house he ends up in. Still, as the names are called one by one, a quiet buzz of anticipation builds in his chest. Not fear—just the restless energy of waiting for something important.
It feels like half an hour before he hears it, though it’s barely been ten minutes.
“Jackson, Rhys!”
He takes a steady breath, steps forward, and sits. The chair is tall, the hall is silent, but Rhys feels strangely grounded. The Hat barely settles on his head before it speaks.
“Hmm, interesting. Quite smart, very brave too.”
Rhys sits a little straighter, He waits for the Hat’s decision.
“A good heart too. I know where you belong.”
A heartbeat of silence.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The Gryffindor table erupts in applause and cheers. Rhys’s breath leaves him in a rush, half-laugh, half-relief. The Hat is lifted from his head, and he hops down from the stool.
He walks toward the Gryffinfor table with a grin on his face and finds a seat with the other first year Gryffindors.
Sorting Ceremony
⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆English / Thoughts / OutfitWhat is Seen and What is Not
As Isabeau strode into the Great Hall with the rest of the first-year class, the first thing she noticed was not the enchanted ceiling or the delicate architecture of the room. It was the noise. The ripple of whispers swelled as the group of first-years entered the Great Hall, striding between the middle two house tables. The second thing she noticed was the hundreds of curious eyes assessing them.
She walked with precision, her chin level and her eyes forward. Her posture was perfectly straight and relaxed, her steps even and measured with purpose. She couldn't say the same for some of the others around her. She rolled her eyes slightly at their slight tremor in someone's hand, the loud boasting of a guaranteed sorting, even the reassuring whispers. Oh, how quickly fear made itself visible in times of uncertainty.
Soon enough, the group reached the front of the room, and names began to be read from the long roll of paper. She watched as some of her peers sauntered up to the three-legged stool with unrestrained overconfidence worn like ill-fitted armour, and others who looked like they wished the powers of invisibility would be granted to them in that moment.
When her name echoed through the hall, she moved at once, ascending the steps. Not eager nor reluctant. Just ready. Sitting down on the old three-legged stool, she smoothed her robes once before folding her hands in her lap as the ancient hat was placed on her head.
She did not startle when the Hat's voice entered her mind. "Ah. The last Nevara sibling." The silence that stretched was deliberate.
"You have already decided what they may see. Composure." The hat stated. "But I see what they do not." Her fingers pinched into her robe slightly. The only tell that the hat was striking truth.
"An ambition. Not loud, quiet. You would never be so careless." A flicker of irritation brushed through her. Carelessness was not something she tolerated. "You wish to be indispensable, undeniable. Important."
"You would thrive in many places. There is intellect here... strategy. Ruled by intention and, of course, disdain for foolishness." The hat paused, "Yet what is this... a quick temper. Emotional volitality... hmm interesting indeed." Isabeau's fist clenched, a flame inside of her igniting with the anger of being called out.
"Ah, yes... There it is. Feeling. You feel so strongly. You feel the eyes, the judgments. Even the whispers in this hall..." her face remained steely while her heart began to race. "Oh, but such careful control despite your fear." She felt like the hat was smirking at her. "What is seen is the mask... but I see you for who you are. You belong in...
SLYTHERIN!"
01/09/25, Dinner
The Hat
sta 6 ⊹ eva 6 ⊹ str 6 |
E N C Y C L O P E D I A |
wis 5 ⊹ arc 5 ⊹ acc 7 |
Sorting Ceremony
When they have entered the great hall, she couldn’t take her eye off from the ceiling which covered with flying candles and mighty sky. Inés leaned towards a girl who was standing right next to her.
“Did you know they used weather mirroring charm and illusion enchantment to make the ceiling look like that, so the students would feel open and magical?” Her eyes sparkled as she excitedly shared what she had learned. "I'm Inés, shall we be friends?" However, the girl next to her didn't seem particularly interested, as she rolled her eyes and turned away. Inés's smile faded, and she sighed and turned back to crowd.
Her eyes searched for her big brother, Alex. He was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, trying to see Inés. When their eyes met, she waived her hand, so did Alex. He was the smart one, always reasonable one. So it was usual for him to be in Ravenclaw.
After a long speech and some songs, it was time to Sorting Hat give a house to each of them. Oh dear...
Quite some time had passed before it was Inés' turn. While listening to the hat, Inés observed the students sitting around her. So many different faces, so many different looks... She was buzzing inside, dying to meet them all and hear their stories.
“Ivonna, Inés!”
When her name was called out in a way, she jumped slightly in her place.
After a deep swallow, she slowly climbed the stairs. Her hands gripped the edges of her robe tightly. Not out of fear, but excitement. When the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, she took a deep breath. “Hmm, an unusual combination.”
She raised her eyes, trying to see the face beneath the hat, but failed because of its large brim and looked back at the group of children sitting in front of her. Yes, unusual child. It wasn’t that weird when you learn her dad used to be in Slytherin and her mom was an Hufflepuff. She grew up with stories of people being mean to her father, and underestimate her mother just because their houses when they were in Hogwarts.
“I see some fine achievements.”
Inés smiled softly.
“But you sit so quietly, child. No hunger for the spotlight, no itch for glory. You wish for warmth, don’t you?”
The hat's words made Ines fidget in her seat. She desperately wanted to be in Hufflepuff, just like her mother. Its atmosphere, with its yellow rooms and plants, had captivated her since she was very young. It didn't take the Sorting Hat a second to read her thoughts.
“I feel your wish pulling at me. Hufflepuff would be kind to you, you would work hard there…
But listen to me carefully.
You don’t seek courage, but you use it anyway. I see the moments you swallow fear and act. I see you choosing what is right even when it costs you.
And that, my dear, is the kind of courage this world needs most.
I know where you will shine the most, within everything you have, not just one part.
So no, this is not about what you want. It’s about what you will become.
Better be-
GRYFFINDOR”
Inés's eyes widened at the choice of hat. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her. As the hat was removed from her head, she turned to her brother. His mouth was open, staring at Inés in astonishment. Truth be told, he had guessed. He must have realised when the 7-year-old girl had grabbed the 9-year-old boy by the collar for cheating at their insignificant, and childish Quidditch match...
She walked to Gryffindor table, amidst the cheers and whistles that greeted her. As she approached, she saw the faces around the table. They were all happy and smiling, congratulating her.
That was when her bright smile returned. Perhaps this really was where she belonged.
“Did you know they used weather mirroring charm and illusion enchantment to make the ceiling look like that, so the students would feel open and magical?” Her eyes sparkled as she excitedly shared what she had learned. "I'm Inés, shall we be friends?" However, the girl next to her didn't seem particularly interested, as she rolled her eyes and turned away. Inés's smile faded, and she sighed and turned back to crowd.
Her eyes searched for her big brother, Alex. He was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, trying to see Inés. When their eyes met, she waived her hand, so did Alex. He was the smart one, always reasonable one. So it was usual for him to be in Ravenclaw.
After a long speech and some songs, it was time to Sorting Hat give a house to each of them. Oh dear...
Quite some time had passed before it was Inés' turn. While listening to the hat, Inés observed the students sitting around her. So many different faces, so many different looks... She was buzzing inside, dying to meet them all and hear their stories.
“Ivonna, Inés!”
When her name was called out in a way, she jumped slightly in her place.
After a deep swallow, she slowly climbed the stairs. Her hands gripped the edges of her robe tightly. Not out of fear, but excitement. When the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, she took a deep breath. “Hmm, an unusual combination.”
She raised her eyes, trying to see the face beneath the hat, but failed because of its large brim and looked back at the group of children sitting in front of her. Yes, unusual child. It wasn’t that weird when you learn her dad used to be in Slytherin and her mom was an Hufflepuff. She grew up with stories of people being mean to her father, and underestimate her mother just because their houses when they were in Hogwarts.
“I see some fine achievements.”
Inés smiled softly.
“But you sit so quietly, child. No hunger for the spotlight, no itch for glory. You wish for warmth, don’t you?”
The hat's words made Ines fidget in her seat. She desperately wanted to be in Hufflepuff, just like her mother. Its atmosphere, with its yellow rooms and plants, had captivated her since she was very young. It didn't take the Sorting Hat a second to read her thoughts.
“I feel your wish pulling at me. Hufflepuff would be kind to you, you would work hard there…
But listen to me carefully.
You don’t seek courage, but you use it anyway. I see the moments you swallow fear and act. I see you choosing what is right even when it costs you.
And that, my dear, is the kind of courage this world needs most.
I know where you will shine the most, within everything you have, not just one part.
So no, this is not about what you want. It’s about what you will become.
Better be-
GRYFFINDOR”
Inés's eyes widened at the choice of hat. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her. As the hat was removed from her head, she turned to her brother. His mouth was open, staring at Inés in astonishment. Truth be told, he had guessed. He must have realised when the 7-year-old girl had grabbed the 9-year-old boy by the collar for cheating at their insignificant, and childish Quidditch match...
She walked to Gryffindor table, amidst the cheers and whistles that greeted her. As she approached, she saw the faces around the table. They were all happy and smiling, congratulating her.
That was when her bright smile returned. Perhaps this really was where she belonged.
Last edited by Inés Ivonna on 27 Feb 2026, 19:14, edited 2 times in total.
Sorting Ceremony
He took a step in his pierce eye's scanned the enormous hall as others began to shot him gazes nor whispers it didn't bother him; surprisingly? He watched as they got sorted.. Gryffindor, Slytherin Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff he found it interesting.
Until the hat shouted his name. "Cale Grey!"
He yelped with a huff, the hat has caught him at a rather unexpected time but he headed over and the hat settle atop of his head.
He tried to look up but couldn't as the hat interrupted his caper. "Oh, hmm an interesting one indeed." He's brow raised as he wondered how a hat could talk. "A single ounce of naivety none, you are what they seek whom is worthy to look upon to!" He's icy exterior seemed to falter and he considered the hats wit. "You are Coherent critical, and precise you are merely clever Cale Grey!"
The word spoken blew his heart as he lifted up his head in awe. "You prophesy failure, but your hands manifest mastery." He's breath hitch every word as if he carried every weight of it. "You have a heart of glass, and a will of adamant!"
"Cale Grey, you are Unmistakably an.." When the hat finally decided its choice, it yells— of course. "RAVENCLAW!"
Until the hat shouted his name. "Cale Grey!"
He yelped with a huff, the hat has caught him at a rather unexpected time but he headed over and the hat settle atop of his head.
He tried to look up but couldn't as the hat interrupted his caper. "Oh, hmm an interesting one indeed." He's brow raised as he wondered how a hat could talk. "A single ounce of naivety none, you are what they seek whom is worthy to look upon to!" He's icy exterior seemed to falter and he considered the hats wit. "You are Coherent critical, and precise you are merely clever Cale Grey!"
The word spoken blew his heart as he lifted up his head in awe. "You prophesy failure, but your hands manifest mastery." He's breath hitch every word as if he carried every weight of it. "You have a heart of glass, and a will of adamant!"
"Cale Grey, you are Unmistakably an.." When the hat finally decided its choice, it yells— of course. "RAVENCLAW!"