Sorting Ceremony 2024-2025

Date: September 1, 2024 Time: Evening Location: Great Hall

Interaction: n/a Outfit: Hogwarts robes speaking: #936606

Astrid made her way in line with all the other first-years, heart thumping loudly in her chest as she looked around at students sitting on the 4 house tables. She was going to be sorted soon, into one of those.
She'd heard a lot about the houses, from her parents, cousins, and children in the line with her. Her parents had been in Gryffindor, and she couldn't say that the house was not alluring. She'd love to be a Gryffindor; brave and courageous.
Her parents had told her about the sorting ceremony, too; apparently they put a talking hat on your head which decides your house. That seemed a bit ridiculous, a thought-analyzing talking hat - even for a person born in a magic family. She'd also heard a few children make their own guesses about the ceremony, which were mostly wild and absurd, ranging from an intelligence test to dividing on the basis of dancing skills.

Soon, the ceremony begun, and with the first student's name being called, it was clear what the ceremony entailed. A hat on your head that yells out the house name. Her parents had been right, after all.
Time passed too quickly for her liking, and certainly not enough students had been sorted yet for her to feel confident; before her name was announced.

"Adair, Astrid"

Astrid walked towards the stool on which the hat was placed, her walk slow and nervous. She hoped she'd get into a 'cool' house, like Gryffindor or Slytherin, probably. She lifted the hat off of the stool, and sat down on it, placing the hat on her head.

Hmm... What do we have here?" A rough, gravelly voice startles her. It was the hat, obviously, but she hadn't expected it to sound like this; and she hadn't expected the voice to feel.. trustable and comforting.
"Brave, determined, smart.." It said, and she soon realized it was talking about her, analyzing her mind. "But also humble, kind and compassionate..." It continued on, while Astrid chose to continue her silence, not wanting to interrupt the hat. "Which house do you want to be placed in?" It suddenly questioned her. Gryffindor, she thought, hoping he would be able to analyze her mind to understand what she was thinking.
"You're brave, but you have greater ambitions in life than personal benefit or recognition, even if you don't realize it yet. You want for others, with others. That's a quality Gryffindor would not make much use of. Perhaps," It paused, and her breath hitched. Was he going to place her in..

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

It yelled, and she knew the decision was made. She had a weird feeling in her chest, as she made her way to the table. The hat had to have said something true, right?
She didn't know if she minded being in the house a few children in the line described as 'lame', all she knew was that the decision would not be changed, and sulking is no good. She was going to make the best out of this, and hopefully, it would all be a memory she'd cherish in the future.

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The young boy had been wary as he was told how he'd be getting to the apparently 'prestigious' wizarding school of Hogwarts, the instructions had been bizarre, even more bizarre than his first trip to Diagon Alley. After all, running face-first into a brick wall to get onto a train sounded like something an adult would tell a kid to mess with them. Yet somehow it had worked, and the magical train that secretly wound the countryside like a neon-coloured snake wearing some sort of anti-muggle disguise glasses puffed along its tracks. Wearing the impractical robes and shoving the annoyingly floppy hat into his pocket, he had sat there for hours while someone carted around a dolly of treats and goodies that made him question if diabetes even existed in this outlandish new world of his.

When they arrived and had been herded into rowboats like a particularly rowdy group of cats, he tried his best to preserve his personal space, muttering low profanities in his mother tongue as his entire body remained tensed and wound up with stress. Too many strangers in too close proximity for his liking, it certainly tested his newly-found self-control to not immediately start bickering with anyone who dared to bump into him. Swallowing dryly once they had finally gotten off, he took a breath, slipping into the crowd with a sense of distaste at every brush against his robes or hand. With how apprehensive he was, he barely even took eh time to actually absorb the sight of the massive castle or the glass-like lake, instead his eyes darted about as if waiting for a wolf to lunge out from a herd of sheep and bite him.

As they got closer to the front entrance, he immediately took note of the armoured elder towering over them like an ominous pillar. At least, ominous in his opinion. As he watched their gaze roam the crowd of children, occasionally punctuated by a greeting, a crawling sense of unease washed over him, jaw tightening, he slipped in beside a few taller kids to keep them from properly catching a glimpse of him, away from the unsettling man's sight. He couldn't entirely place why he felt this unease, perhaps it was their eyes, or maybe the almost deathly pallor of their skin. Either way, he wanted no part of their attention; he didn't need a friendly greeting anyhow. That'd simply be an unwelcome distraction.

As they entered the great hall, he let his gaze rove around for a bit, skin prickling at the many eyes observing their entrance. He hated... about everything he saw, aside from the projection of the night sky above. That was his only comfort, though, as he remained as inconspicuous as possible in the clump of kids he sought shelter within. Fingers rapidly tapping his thigh in a frantic rhythm, he listened to the spiel, not even glancing at the group of staff at the back of the hall. The armoured man revealed himself to be the headmaster, perfectly good news to him, it likely meant he'd never run into them 1 on 1 during his entire year here unless he did something particularly criminal, which had had zero intentions of doing.

Barely listening to the poem, he merely questioned where the brains the hat had supposedly been given had been put, it wasn't like the thing had a skull... or perhaps it was a spirit possessing a hat. Either way, he didn't like the thought of anything searching through his mind. Especially not a hat with ambiguous origins of sentience. They really had to do such a tradition? Sighing as the list began, he swiftly ignored everyone who went up before him, he'd be near the end, unfortunately, so he had to sit through the awkward silence that followed each student getting the suspicious thing dropped onto their little heads, before the abrupt calls of their house would make him jolt. The only break he got from this were the faint murmurs of older students, the occasional snickers of friends messing around, and the clinking of utensils or creaking of seats. He doubted he'd ever look back on this day fondly.

The long wait for his name left him feeling tired and high-strung, like a coffee addict who had gone without their favourite bitter black drink for a day straight. Tapping his fancy stick he had gotten from Ollivanders absently with one nail, he jolted as his name was called, eyes narrowing as tension swiftly coiled up his muscles once more. He hated this, this quiet attention, these probing eyes, and the eerily still gaze of the headmaster on him as he stepped forward and hesitated momentarily. He felt like he was going to get jumped. Mouth quirking slightly into a guarded frown, he stepped forward, his footsteps seeming loud against the floor. He could only silently thank the few spectators who didn't seem interested in watching him in the slightest.

Staring down the hat for a few heartbeats, his fingers tapped rhythmically on his thigh once more, before he muttered something darkly in Russian, and sighed sharply, sitting down with a feeling of paranoia. It probably wasn't the most welcoming thing to experience when the thing decided to prod his mind, but, given how many types the hat had seen, they didn't miss a beat as they spoke into his mind, making him bristle. "Goodness, you're quite a guarded one, aren't you?" the old voice echoed in his head, just as unsettling as he expected it to be. "It seems you have good justification for it too, you've been through a lot, haven't you?" The boy's fingers twitched with the urge to pull the old thing off of his head.

Yeah, I have: enough for me to want you in and out of my thoughts as quickly as possible. The thought rose to the forefront of his mind as his fingers drummed the rhythm of his pulse.

The hat continued without missing a beat, "Guarded, but sharp, your mind is a shield and your words are your sword. Perhaps Ravenclaw would suit you... mmm, no, not quite," They mused, apparently finding something else in his brain to pick at, his lip lifted in a grimace. "You've faced many challenges, but almost every one was faced head-on. You aren't quite ambitious, but you are methodical. You're fearful yet despite that fear, you've stood your ground against the tests your life has thrown at you." Was this the psychic equivalent of thinking out loud? If so, it was more annoying than actually thinking out loud, "Yes, you have a certain harshness to you, that's for certain, but there's a greater strength behind it... I think I see now. You have a foundation, and with time, you'll fit in far better in..."

The boy flinched as the internal voice suddenly grew far louder beyond his head, calling out his house name, "Gryffindor!"

He blinked, recalling the description of the house he had apparently been dumped into, then he snorted. That is a funny joke... Of course, he knew it wasn't meant as one, but it sure sounded like one to him. As the hat was removed, the only response to the internal comment he got was a knowing smile. He hated it. As the loud cheers rang out, though, he supposed it was very much on the bottom of the list of things he hated; he always despised noise more.

Shooting an icy glare at the loudest table that was apparently his, he grumbled lowly in his mother tongue once more. Looking at the new red lining in his robe, he huffed before walking swiftly to the table, away from the prying eyes that had been watching him this entire time.

He wanted to go to sleep.

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Encyclopedia Link: Here

STATS

Reducio

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Stamina: 5

Evasion: 10

Strength: 3

Wisdom: 5

ArcPower: 2

Accuracy: 10

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Abilities | Sixth Sense

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Edited to add Encyclopedia link and Stats

"Gryffindor. The best house out of the four in my opinion!"

"Ryan, Lily!"

Did they really have to put it front and centre? Couldn't they have done this...I don't know...not in front of the whole school?

"Hmm...now here's an interesting one...Very clever, yes. Observant. You notice more than you let on...There's a quiet power in you. Not loud, not showy...but steady...hmm. A good heart, no doubt...and a thirst for knowledge...but you don't just want to learn - oh no - you want to understand. To master. To protect what matters"

But also a sense of ambition too...not the boastful kind, no - but the kind that burns slowly, waiting for the right moment. You've got grit, girl. That is for certain...You'd do well in...SLYTHERIN!

The castle was grand.

Lyssandra had heard and read multiple accounts of this fact; yet she was still in awe to behold its majesty. It was not that the foundations were of such fine elements. Rather, from the very moment Lyssandra set her eyes upon the castle, echoes of ages past seem to envelope her.

When she was on the train, she made little to no contact with anyone, even those who sat with her, in hope of preparing herself and allowing her nerves to settle. Now that she was sitting on the boats, her heart began to skip a few beats. She rubs her thumb across her left palm.

While others her age were exclaiming their “oohs” and “aahs”, Lyssandra’s eyes were set dead ahead towards where the next 7 years of her life will be centered around. The cool breeze of the night sky and the gentle rocking of the lake almost comforted her and Lyssandra was more than grateful enough that she whispers a quiet “thank you” to whatever magic or element was listening.

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

One foot upon the castle’s stone and Lyssandra could almost feel the magic and the history it held within its halls (or was it just her nerves becoming a heavier weight upon her shoulder?). She followed the flow of First Years, all dressed in their black robes, and took great care in not steeping another’s robes as they ascended the stairs.

“Remember Little Blue,” She hears Carolus’ voice echoing in her mind.

“Hogwarts is a place for you to learn, grow, and makes friends. You are not expected to be exceptionally perfect, you are expected to be a child and grow at your own pace so relax a little bit, okay?”

If she could recall correctly, Carolus was a Ravenclaw and was a terrible bookworm himself before he met Cousin Dion. If anything, Lyssandra could only be amused at the memory. She had no one else to talk to about her Hogwarts’ worries. Her older cousins were either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons students. Her older brother was currently enrolled in Durmstrang, and she would not dare ask her parents nor her aunts and uncles about their time in Hogwarts (considering the state it was in during their time), so Carolus was her almost perfect choice.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and she was met with warmth, both from the ambience and from the welcoming gaze of their prospective professors.
Deep navy-blue eyes sparkled as the Headmaster spoke, standing in attention and smiling at his interaction with the Sorting Hat. As it sung, Lyssandra wondered if the Heroes of today had been just and nervous like her. Though her face did not betray anything, her heart fluttered as she rubbed her thumb across her left palm.

As the song finished with a round of applause, the names and their assigned houses were called. Lyssandra’s last name began with an N, it would take a while. Looking around, she notes the excited and nervous gleam of her fellow First Years’ eyes. This batch was a larger crop than usual, or so she heard someone from a table say.

Names, Houses, and applause…

Until finally,

“Navarus, Lyssandra!” She took a deep breath and took a seat on the stool, as elegantly as her etiquette teachers drilled into her mind. The fabric of the hat made her skin tingle as she slowly released her breath from her nostrils. In the recesses of her mind, she whispers:

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Miss Navarus’ Lyssandra felt her shoulders jump and earned the Hat’s chuckles.

‘Never gets old. I will be looking into your mind now.’ Lyssandra gave a nod.

‘I have sorted your aunts and uncles during their time here. I see that they now have their own families. How lovely. Mhmm… Quite the curious little one, are you? Big dreams for someone so young. How’s Carolus? Ah, what a lovely wedding… what is this? Oh… Very well. At the tone of his voice, Lyssandra sat up straighter as the Hat made its final verdict.

‘Prepare yourself for I can see which house will fit your best. Determination, resilience, and ambition. The friends you make along the way and the alliances you forge will aid you in this journey, there is no doubt about it. Therefore…’

“SLYTHERIN!” Lyssandra offered a small smile and quietly thanked the hat as it was removed from her head. She approached her House’s table and was greeted with polite applause and some welcoming nods.

Slytherin was going to be her family in Hogwarts. For the next 7 years this will be her family and there was anything her family taught her, it was:

Familia praesertim, omnia pro Familia.

She takes her seat upon the bench, cheeks flushed with excitement and nervousness for what her future in Hogwarts holds.