Sorting Ceremony
Predated, evening of September 1st, 2025
Solid ground had never felt so good in the boy's entire life. From the moment he stepped off the train and was then informed he had to go on a boat, he barely thought he'd make it to the castle without emptying his guts at one point or another. As the cluster of students, he found himself entangled with entered the Great Hall, his eyes widened at the sheer number of bodies packed into the space. It was not great, but Grand instead, the name did not do it justice. The floating candles above his head that decorated the room intrigued him the most, but the robes of the students with different colors to represent their house pride flickered in his vision. Red, blue, yellow, green. Which color would he adorn himself with for the next 7 years?
His attention was torn from his surroundings as the group he mingled with came to a halt. Standing at the front of the room as tall man strode to the center, identifying the man soon after by name as he introduced himself and welcomed them in. Solomon Lear, Headmaster of Hogwarts. My gaze was solely focused on the words leaving his lips before his silenced and another spoke, breaking the silence that had filled the air. My eyes narrowed on the hat that sat atop a stool. So, this was the infamous Sorting Hat. Before pondering any further, it broke out into song, startling him, although the singing wasn't half bad. Once its song finished, a loud round of applause sliced through the air, and he felt inclined to join in. The atmosphere shifted once again. Now it was time. One by one students were called up and he realized it was by last name. Valerian. He would be waiting awhile. Or so he thought. The hate was quite fast paced as he watched unnamed faces go up, sit down for a few seconds and then leave. Eruptions of applause and hollering echoed each choice and soon he would be greeted by his own house.
Valerian, Blaize
This was it. The voice echoed the recently silenced hall having calmed down from the last assignment. He noticed the crowd around him lessened and was nearly sparse except for the remainder of the end of the alphabet like him. Taking the stand, he'd sit down on the stool.
I remember your father and his father before you. The Valerian line has finally brought another under my judgement. Your ambitiousness for success is similar but you lack and misplace it by your own desires. You surely would do with some help back on track. I know just the place for you.
All the while the hat spoke, his body was tense. The hat knew his family. Of course it did. His own desires? He didn't know what he wanted for himself except to escape the pressure of his family, maybe that is what the hat meant. This whole process made him feel eerie, yet he kept his lips sealed shut.
Slytherin!
It boomed, the hall roared with deafening cheers, coming from the table all the way on the right. Blaize stood up from the chair as the hat was removed from his head. Once more, he would be following in his families' shoes. Once more, his life was already paved for him. Couldn't that stupid hat have at least given him hope for something different? He begrudgingly headed towards the table, earning a few slaps on the back as an empty spot was made for him. The last few names of the sorting were called but he tuned out the noise, staring solely down at his blank plate. A hunger burned inside him, and not for food, but to prove the hat wrong. A hat deciding his house couldn't dictate his future, and nor would his parents.
Sorting Ceremony
Maisie had never been so nervous in her life, even more nervous than waiting to be scolded by her brother because she upset his ink bottle one day three years former. She wondered which house she would be sorted into, and which color she'd wear for the next few years. Would she live in the dungeons? In high up towers? Or near the kitchen? She could not guess.
She tried to concentrate on the professor at the front, calling out names. One by one, the students sat on the rickety stool, and the hat was placed on their head, then their house was shouted amidst deafening roars and hoots from the four tables.
"WILLIAMS, MAISIE!"
This was it, the moment that would change her life, Maisie thought, as she dragged her feet up to the stool, sat down, and the hat was placed over her head.
"Hmm... Very eager to learn I see, yes, you'll do well in Ravenclaw, oh, but eager to prove herself, too. Slytherin wouldn't be bad either. But I see loyalty, yes, I shall never be mistaken by this amount of loyalty... Hm.. Hufflepuff would suit you, no doubt, yes, you'll thrive in Hufflepuff... Better be in..
HUFFLEPUFF!"
Deafening roars from one of the tables at the far end followed Maisie as she stepped off the stool in a daze, walking over to the table loudest and sliding into a seat. Hufflepuff. Her parents would have wanted her to be in another house. Any house. Hufflepuff. She was so certain. So so so certain, even years before she went to Hogwarts, that she'd be in Ravenclaw. But she was in Hufflepuff. How?
She imagined her brother hooting at her for being in "the lamest house you could ever be in." But no, she would make her house proud no matter what, and to wipe that smirk on her brother's face as he met her gaze at the Ravenclaw table. She glared at him. So what if she was in Hufflepuff? After all, her mother had been in Hufflepuff, and so is her brother, Michael.
Her brother squeezed next to her. "Good job, Maisie, don't let that prat of our brother bother you so much, you'd do well in this house.
She tried to concentrate on the professor at the front, calling out names. One by one, the students sat on the rickety stool, and the hat was placed on their head, then their house was shouted amidst deafening roars and hoots from the four tables.
"WILLIAMS, MAISIE!"
This was it, the moment that would change her life, Maisie thought, as she dragged her feet up to the stool, sat down, and the hat was placed over her head.
"Hmm... Very eager to learn I see, yes, you'll do well in Ravenclaw, oh, but eager to prove herself, too. Slytherin wouldn't be bad either. But I see loyalty, yes, I shall never be mistaken by this amount of loyalty... Hm.. Hufflepuff would suit you, no doubt, yes, you'll thrive in Hufflepuff... Better be in..
HUFFLEPUFF!"
Deafening roars from one of the tables at the far end followed Maisie as she stepped off the stool in a daze, walking over to the table loudest and sliding into a seat. Hufflepuff. Her parents would have wanted her to be in another house. Any house. Hufflepuff. She was so certain. So so so certain, even years before she went to Hogwarts, that she'd be in Ravenclaw. But she was in Hufflepuff. How?
She imagined her brother hooting at her for being in "the lamest house you could ever be in." But no, she would make her house proud no matter what, and to wipe that smirk on her brother's face as he met her gaze at the Ravenclaw table. She glared at him. So what if she was in Hufflepuff? After all, her mother had been in Hufflepuff, and so is her brother, Michael.
Her brother squeezed next to her. "Good job, Maisie, don't let that prat of our brother bother you so much, you'd do well in this house.
Sorting Ceremony
For all his reservations and worries he's having about leaving his squib twin brother behind, Malcolm had to admit that entering the Hogwarts Castle had been an awe-inspiring experience. Conall was right (even if I'll never admit it), giving up his opportunity to be here just so the two of them wouldn't have to be separated would have been a mistake.
Sitting under that hat had been nerve wracking in and of itself. He wasn't in love with being psychoanalyzed by a piece of headwear, and knowing his future here at the school could change based on its whims made him more anxious than he cared to admit. His entire bloodline, give or take a dozen or so members, had been part of the same House since the founding of the school itself. Would his family be disappointed in him if he ended up placed on a different path.
It didn't help that the hat was taking so long, musing and mumbling to itself, seemingly stuck between making him a lion and making him a badger. All he could do was sit there, trying not to think about how every eye in the Great Hall is on him right now. Finally it cleared its throat, its hatstall over with. It took another moment or two, before shouting:
Malcolm let out a deep sigh of relief, his anxieties assuaged as his uniform magically took on the yellow accents of the house. Once the hat was removed from his head he made his way over to the table most of his ancestors had also sat at, eager to continue on the McGregor legacy.
Sitting under that hat had been nerve wracking in and of itself. He wasn't in love with being psychoanalyzed by a piece of headwear, and knowing his future here at the school could change based on its whims made him more anxious than he cared to admit. His entire bloodline, give or take a dozen or so members, had been part of the same House since the founding of the school itself. Would his family be disappointed in him if he ended up placed on a different path.
It didn't help that the hat was taking so long, musing and mumbling to itself, seemingly stuck between making him a lion and making him a badger. All he could do was sit there, trying not to think about how every eye in the Great Hall is on him right now. Finally it cleared its throat, its hatstall over with. It took another moment or two, before shouting:
"Hufflepuff!"
Malcolm let out a deep sigh of relief, his anxieties assuaged as his uniform magically took on the yellow accents of the house. Once the hat was removed from his head he made his way over to the table most of his ancestors had also sat at, eager to continue on the McGregor legacy.
Planting Ideas, Pruning Doubts, Gathering Wonder
Sta - 9 | Eva - 1 | Str - 1 | Wis - 9 | Arc - 6 | Acc - 9
Sorting Ceremony
When Dario stepped into the great hall for the first time, his first thought was full. Every table in the hall seemed to be filled with eager students from each of the four houses. He knew a little bit about each one from his Father, who went to Hogwarts. Dad was a Slytherin, but Dario didn't really know if he preferred any house over another. He was just glad to be there. Magic school was bound to be leagues better than the muggle school he attended from age 5. He was ready for a fresh start.
As he listened to the sorting hat's song, he wondered again what house he might belong to. Loyalty was certainly a quality he possessed. Dario got into the most trouble for defending his little sister from a group of boys in his year who particularly liked pulling her braids. He glowered just at the memory of it. Cunning seemed like a little bit of a stretch, but Dario had more than once talked his way to the top score in class competitions by making friends with the teachers. He felt a little guilty for using them like that, but it was worth it to see his name at the top of the list. Also there was an Ice Cream party for top grade students, well worth it. Ravenclaw favours wit. This was something Dario wasn't sure he was the best at, because he often lost his footing in debates, but he was a decent student, he thought. The learning bit of Ravenclaw might suit him well. Bravery seemed like a reach. Dario couldn't recall a time he was truly brave, though he wouldn't call himself a coward either. He was just used to sticking to the side if things ever got testy, preferred to not pick a side, or really stick up for anyone but his sister.
Then the names were called, one by one. With a name like Procyon, Dario was only a few from the end, alphabetically, and he watched student after student ahead of him try on the hat, which seemed to sense the house for each one. Every student was welcomed into one of the big tables, bearing students from each of the four houses. As he looked at the packed tables, Dario's anticipation creeped into worry. what happened if they ran out of room?
But then: "Procyon, Dario!" went the hat, and soon he was milling towards the stool where the others had sat and watched the room disappear behind the black rim of the hat. The noise of the room seemed to vanish too. He almost jumped when the voice of the sorting hat spoke, "ah, I remember sorting your Father, and his father before him, another Procyon for Slytherin, what do you think?"
"I'm not really sure where I belong, but I am sure I'll do well and try my best to make proud whatever house you place me in." He told the sorting hat.
"Well then, you've spoken like a true- HUFFLEPUFF!" and the last declaration rang around the great hall as the world came back into focus
As he listened to the sorting hat's song, he wondered again what house he might belong to. Loyalty was certainly a quality he possessed. Dario got into the most trouble for defending his little sister from a group of boys in his year who particularly liked pulling her braids. He glowered just at the memory of it. Cunning seemed like a little bit of a stretch, but Dario had more than once talked his way to the top score in class competitions by making friends with the teachers. He felt a little guilty for using them like that, but it was worth it to see his name at the top of the list. Also there was an Ice Cream party for top grade students, well worth it. Ravenclaw favours wit. This was something Dario wasn't sure he was the best at, because he often lost his footing in debates, but he was a decent student, he thought. The learning bit of Ravenclaw might suit him well. Bravery seemed like a reach. Dario couldn't recall a time he was truly brave, though he wouldn't call himself a coward either. He was just used to sticking to the side if things ever got testy, preferred to not pick a side, or really stick up for anyone but his sister.
Then the names were called, one by one. With a name like Procyon, Dario was only a few from the end, alphabetically, and he watched student after student ahead of him try on the hat, which seemed to sense the house for each one. Every student was welcomed into one of the big tables, bearing students from each of the four houses. As he looked at the packed tables, Dario's anticipation creeped into worry. what happened if they ran out of room?
But then: "Procyon, Dario!" went the hat, and soon he was milling towards the stool where the others had sat and watched the room disappear behind the black rim of the hat. The noise of the room seemed to vanish too. He almost jumped when the voice of the sorting hat spoke, "ah, I remember sorting your Father, and his father before him, another Procyon for Slytherin, what do you think?"
"I'm not really sure where I belong, but I am sure I'll do well and try my best to make proud whatever house you place me in." He told the sorting hat.
"Well then, you've spoken like a true- HUFFLEPUFF!" and the last declaration rang around the great hall as the world came back into focus
Sorting Ceremony
Ivy Wilde had never been away from home before. Not for longer than a night or two at her gran’s or a weekend with cousins. She was the oldest of four, with a fifth on the way, and had spent most of the summer with one sibling hanging off her arm and another asking question after question about what Hogwarts might be like. Her mum, round-bellied and radiant in that tired sort of way, had helped her pack and repack her trunk three times, slipping her a bundle of handwritten notes, each with a little Hufflepuff badger drawn in the corner. Her dad, who still fumbled with magical things and muttered “bloody miracle” every time her mum levitated something.
The train ride had gone fast. Ivy had spent most of it curled against the window with Hogwarts: A History in her lap, the pages soft and dog-eared from the summer. There were parts she’d memorized. Her fingers tapped along to the song she played in her head while the Scottish countryside blurred past the glass. At some point, she changed into her robes early, ignoring the glances of others still in jeans and jumpers, fidgeting with the fraying seam on her right sleeve. She didn't mind looking eager. She was eager, and more than anything, she was curious.
Ten minutes before arrival, she set the book aside and turned her attention fully to the window. Her heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and the ache of leaving everything familiar behind. When the train slowed, a hush fell over the first years as Hogsmeade Station came into view. Ivy’s breath caught. The station was simple but enchanting, and she gripped the edge of her seat too tightly as they stepped off and were ushered to boats waiting along the black water.
The castle rose up out of the darkness like it had been painted across the sky, lit by flickering torches and glowing windows. It was more magnificent than she had imagined, and she had imagined it often. Cold air swept across the lake, raising goosebumps on her arms under the wool sleeves. She didn’t speak as they crossed. Her hands remained clenched on the rim of the boat. Her hazel eyes took in every angle of the towering stone walls, every ripple in the water, every whispered word from those around her.
Inside, the Great Hall made her feel small in a way she didn’t mind. Candles floated overhead, flames soft and golden against the enchanted ceiling. She could see the stars. She glanced at each of the long tables, trying to guess the personalities that went with each house. Gryffindor looked loudest. Slytherin looked elegant. Hufflepuff smiled the most. Ravenclaw was quieter, sharper, and she wasn’t sure what that meant for her.
Her fingers found the frayed thread again.
They called names, and students left the crowd one by one to take their turn with the Sorting Hat. Her heart beat slower as they reached the second half of the alphabet. Her name was near the end. Her mum had told her that it was a good thing. More time to prepare. Her dad had told her to imagine the hat was some bored bloke trying to do his job and get to dinner. That had made her laugh at the time.
When they finally called “Wilde, Ivy,” the laughter was gone. Her legs felt heavy, but she walked tall. She sat on the stool without meeting anyone’s eyes. She breathed slowly. The hat came down over her ears, musty and warm.
She tried to keep her mind calm.
Let it search.
Let it see.
The answer came quicker than she expected.
“RAVENCLAW.”
Her breath escaped before she realized she’d been holding it. She stood up with a grin breaking across her face and headed toward the Ravenclaw table, where unfamiliar hands reached to welcome her. She slid into her seat with her sleeve still between her fingers and her heart still hammering. She could feel her parents’ words in her chest. The house will be lucky to have you.
Maybe they were right. Maybe she would belong here after all.
The train ride had gone fast. Ivy had spent most of it curled against the window with Hogwarts: A History in her lap, the pages soft and dog-eared from the summer. There were parts she’d memorized. Her fingers tapped along to the song she played in her head while the Scottish countryside blurred past the glass. At some point, she changed into her robes early, ignoring the glances of others still in jeans and jumpers, fidgeting with the fraying seam on her right sleeve. She didn't mind looking eager. She was eager, and more than anything, she was curious.
Ten minutes before arrival, she set the book aside and turned her attention fully to the window. Her heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and the ache of leaving everything familiar behind. When the train slowed, a hush fell over the first years as Hogsmeade Station came into view. Ivy’s breath caught. The station was simple but enchanting, and she gripped the edge of her seat too tightly as they stepped off and were ushered to boats waiting along the black water.
The castle rose up out of the darkness like it had been painted across the sky, lit by flickering torches and glowing windows. It was more magnificent than she had imagined, and she had imagined it often. Cold air swept across the lake, raising goosebumps on her arms under the wool sleeves. She didn’t speak as they crossed. Her hands remained clenched on the rim of the boat. Her hazel eyes took in every angle of the towering stone walls, every ripple in the water, every whispered word from those around her.
Inside, the Great Hall made her feel small in a way she didn’t mind. Candles floated overhead, flames soft and golden against the enchanted ceiling. She could see the stars. She glanced at each of the long tables, trying to guess the personalities that went with each house. Gryffindor looked loudest. Slytherin looked elegant. Hufflepuff smiled the most. Ravenclaw was quieter, sharper, and she wasn’t sure what that meant for her.
Her fingers found the frayed thread again.
They called names, and students left the crowd one by one to take their turn with the Sorting Hat. Her heart beat slower as they reached the second half of the alphabet. Her name was near the end. Her mum had told her that it was a good thing. More time to prepare. Her dad had told her to imagine the hat was some bored bloke trying to do his job and get to dinner. That had made her laugh at the time.
When they finally called “Wilde, Ivy,” the laughter was gone. Her legs felt heavy, but she walked tall. She sat on the stool without meeting anyone’s eyes. She breathed slowly. The hat came down over her ears, musty and warm.
She tried to keep her mind calm.
Let it search.
Let it see.
The answer came quicker than she expected.
“RAVENCLAW.”
Her breath escaped before she realized she’d been holding it. She stood up with a grin breaking across her face and headed toward the Ravenclaw table, where unfamiliar hands reached to welcome her. She slid into her seat with her sleeve still between her fingers and her heart still hammering. She could feel her parents’ words in her chest. The house will be lucky to have you.
Maybe they were right. Maybe she would belong here after all.
Sorting Ceremony
THE NOISE, the lights, The Sensory not-so-Delight!
Dorian was overwhelmed from the second he had stepped foot on Hogwarts grounds. Magic still made zero sense to him, and the world had been flipped upside-down as a result. A walking mess of wonder and cold sweat, he took shaky steps into the incredibly loud grand hall, twiddling with his robes as he walked. Dorian met the sorting ceremony with anxious awe, fighting the urge to cover his ears.
What would his father think? Dorian found himself thinking. To be a wizard- the whole thing seemed absurd ever since the day he had gotten that letter. But still, father would surely be happy to see him in such a lively environment, surrounded by people, whether he was a wizard or not. The thought calmed him, although the loud ambience was still quite bothering.
The room went quiet, the festivities were seemingly interrupted by some pallid old man. His voice boomed, just like the PA system of his old "normal" school. Dorian stood, listening to the speech, occasionally zoning out into own thoughts. Thoughts of home. An odd tranquility fell upon the boy. The sensation was cut short however by what appeared to be a talking hat. Amongst the first years, Dorian let out a barely audible "Woah.."
The old man spoke again, and the hat had it's own song. It felt like one of those amusement parks he'd go to when he was a little younger. He preferred aquariums, if anything.
Then, the first years were called up, one by one. Dorian waited patiently, tapping his foot and twiddling with whatever was hanging from his clothes. The names never end, do they? Perhaps Dorian was here on a fluke? His name would never be called! Of course it was too good to be true—
"Vaughan, Dorian!"
The old man called.
The old man called.
The boy stepped up to take the stage, delighting in the silence brought on by pure anticipation, broken only by his soles meeting the floor. He took a deep breath before taking his seat in front of everyone. For a moment, Dorian felt like a king. He tries and fails to stifle a smile, gleefully dangling with his legs atop his wooden throne, as his crown were to be lowered upon his head.
"Well, well, well.." The hat called out. Dorian's eyes widened.
"Now... What do i see? Fear? Dread?"
"N-not at all..." He mumbled in reply.
"Speak up, boy! Such timidity is hardly befitting for one so... Hmm.."
The hat went silent for a moment, grumbling away as it seemed lost upon thought.
"Curious.. Courageous! Both are words that fit you well."
Dorian's face turned to pure shock. Neither were words he'd use to describe himself.
"Don't give me that look! The house you belong to is indeed..!"
GRYFFINDOR!
Dorian wasn't quite sure on exactly how to feel. However, the loud applause that followed his sorting made it quite hard to process anything at all. He shuffled over to the table he'd believed to be for him and his fellow gryffindors, wide-eyed and in mild disbelief. Courageous? Dorian found it hard to believe. Courageous.. Courageous.. The word spun around in his mind as he took his place at the table.
wordcount: 542
Sorting Ceremony
The sculpted door frames, the lights the overall appearance appeal, all of it is new.
Teaghan walked into the great hall, after staring at all the fancy and shiny stuff of course, but they were utterly shocked at how huge the place was. They froze at the entrance of the Great Hall, just to look around at everything, kids bumped into them but they didn't budge. Well. After a few seconds of standing they had to sit down, not that they wanted to.
Once seated at a table, Teaghan heard the once loud and bustling hall go complete silent at one man's voice. They wished they had that much control over a large group. Their dreams of control where cut short when they heard people's names starting to get called, that gave them an edge of nervousness.
Their muggle school had daily attendance calls for all the kids, all the kids except Teaghan that is, they were always stood next to the principal during role call so they couldn't cause trouble. People would stare at Teaghan, some whispering, some not so discreetly making fun of them. They hated it, they weren't afraid, no, but they didn't like to hear what people thought of them.
“Eversley, Teaghan!”
Teaghan heard their name shouted by the same guy that silenced the hall. Their leg was bouncing at the speed of light at this point, at least it felt that way. Before they new it, they were walking up to the stage and being sat down in a chair. They looked at the older man hoping for some sort of reassurance, he just smiled at Teaghan and put the hat on their head.
Teaghan closed their eyes so they couldn't see the people staring at them, they still felt the eyes. They just waited for the sorting hat to start sorting already.
“Nervous?”
Teaghan hears the voice of the sorting hat, they look up at it on their head. They slowly nod.
“Hmm...you seem relatively brave.”
Teaghan smiled every so slightly, “I was told being brave would keep me alive.” they said shyly.
“Ah, and it has so far, hm? I sense some arrogance though...”
Teaghan stops smiling instantly, glaring up at the sorting hat. They've never been called arrogant before, they did tend to put themselves first if it ment meeting a goal, but that rarely happened, basically never!
“Hmm...I think you'll fit best in...”
“SLYTHERIN!”
Teaghan was shocked, they expected Gryffindor, even Ravenclaw was higher in their mind then Slytherin! Don't get them wrong, they were excited, just surprised as well. They got up, they heard the applause and glanced back at the hat before staring at the crowd of kids and few adults. They took a deep breath in and out, they bowed down. When they stood back up, they hurried off the stage to find the Slytherin table. Gods, I'm never doing that again. They thought.
Teaghan E.
Sorting Ceremony
September 1st
Before Karime had gotten on the train to go to Hogwarts and arrived at the Great Hall. Her parents and brother had a small little celebration to congratulate her on getting accepted to Hogwarts. She was all smiles and couldn't wait to get started. Her parents had asked her how she was feeling and to be completely honest. She was feeling ecstatic and wondered what house she would be sorted into. She look to her parents and brother, asking them again what houses they were in. Her parents said that her father was sorted into gryffindor, while her mother was sorted into Ravenclaw. But in her mom's family they had mostly been sorted into Hufflepuff for years until her mom was the one to break that pattern. Her brother had chuckle softly as he rub the back of his neck saying how he was sorted into Slytherin. Karime remembers when she was told this story. Her parents were shocked and surprised when this happened because in their long line of wizards on both sides. Her father's lineage/family were all sorted into Gryffindor. While on her mother's side there were times in their family history where an individual was sorted into Gryffindor and even one instance Slytherin.
She looked to her brother and knows how he is very ambitious and even though she has heard about Slytherin and everything that has happen with the house members, etc . She understands not all Slytherin can be ruthless, harsh and mean. She looks to her parents and tells them how she is wishing to be in Ravenclaw. But that she would be fine with Gryffindor too. Her parents looked to her and smile. They told her that they didn't care what house she was sorted into. As long as she was happy, being herself and enjoyed all Hogwarts has to give.
Time skip
The time has come where Karime has arrived to Hogwarts and was escorted into the Great Hall. She was amazed with the architect and smiled as she saw a few of the paintings moving. Those always fascinated her and she would read books and books about them. She then stood with all the other first years as she listen to the headmaster and was amazed when she heard the sorting hat speaking. She patiently waited for her turn but inside was super nervous. Finally she was called up and went to go sit on the wooden stool. She could feel her heart beating and although she wanted to be in one of the same houses her family was in. She got worried on what if she did get slytherin!! She would be incredibly shocked as she felt she was nothing like that. She had a deep feeling she may be sorted into hufflepuff though. The hat was put on her head and she waiting patiently. The hat spoke to her and only her. Stating how she had a lot of traits and the heart of each house but that Ravenclaw, Slytherin were the closes. She was suprise when she heard Slytherin and her heart and palms got sweaty but then… the hat called out
“Ravenclaw!!!!”
Karime smiled and was ecstatic. She would be in the same house her mother was. She heard the applause from all the students and stood up to go find her table. Her mind was still a bit in the part where the sorting hat said it was between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. While she did grow up with her brother and has helped her have a bit of a tough shell. She was just glad she got the house she wanted
Karime Lenior// "She Believed She Could So She Did
Stamina: 6|Evasion: 5|Strength: 4|Wisdom: 8|ArcPower: 5|Accuracy: 7|
Ability: Calming Presence
Sorting Ceremony
The arrival
Finnian Hallowell had imagined this moment a thousand times, the stone corridors, the torches lining the walls, the heavy doors of the Great Hall swinging open to reveal a place of beauty that he had only ever heard about in stories from his parents. Even so, he was not prepared for the real thing. At all.
Candlelight floated overhead like stars, sitting in the air held up by nothing in a ceiling enchanted to look like the night sky. Four beautiful, long tables stretched across the hall, filled with hundreds of watching eyes. Finnian swallowed hard, clutching his robe sleeve with his shaky fingers.
His parents had told him what to expect: His Mother, a Ravenclaw and his Father, a gentle Hufflepuff had offered advice. "Just be yourself, that is all Hogwarts asks".
Finnian did not want to follow in the footsteps of his parents however. He desperately wanted Gryffindor.
"Finnian Hallowell!". he approached cautiously, looking back once at the numerous students at each table. Finn gave a glance to the headmaster of the school and then sat down on the wooden stool placed in front of each and every person sat in the great hall to watch. The battered looking hat was placed onto his head.
There was a pause. Finn sat perfectly still, waiting for the hats decision. After a moment, it spoke without explanation.
Hufflepuff!
The sorting hat had chose as the Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers. Finnian grinned as the hat was lifted from his head. He made his way over to his new housemates and sat down. He looked around, this would be his new home for seven years to come.
Finnian Hallowell
Sorting Ceremony
Sorting
Olivia’s eyes widened, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she stepped through the gates with the other students. Four long tables stood in the middle of a hall, where students sat with expectant, somewhat bored, or encouraging faces. Above, she could see the cloud-covered evening sky, as though she were still standing outside the breathtaking castle, not in the middle of it. At the end of the hall, there was another table where adult wizards and witches—she suspected they were the teachers—were seated. In front of this table, there was a tattered hat whose brim seemed to speak like a mouth, joking with the headmaster. From her mother, Olivia knew she didn’t need to be afraid of the Sorting Ceremony, but that was easy for someone who had already been through it all—not that her mother had ever been afraid of anything. She thought about the girls with whom she had shared a compartment on the train and silently hoped they would be sorted into the same house.
Soon, the famous talking hat began to sing. A deep silence settled over the hall. Olivia listened intently, although she already knew the qualities assigned to each house. Her mother had been sorted into Gryffindor; if she hadn’t been Muggle-born, she could have been in Slytherin too, but Olivia doubted she shared the same stubbornness as Estelle O’Brian. Then the headmaster, a slightly eerie older man in armor, called her name, and Olivia clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and marched toward the hat. As soon as she sat on the stool, the old hat was placed on her head; almost immediately, it slipped down over her eyes. Suddenly, it seemed as though there was no one else—just her. The hall, with its students and teachers, had vanished. The pounding pulse in her ears grew louder, the rush of her own blood clashing with each heartbeat. The uncomfortable fabric of the hat scratched against her forehead, and the taste of nervousness rose in her throat like biting vinegar.
“Mhm,“ said a voice in her head that was not her own, and Olivia realized it was the hat speaking to her. Her mother hadn’t told her the hat would actually talk to her. “Oh yes,“ the deep, warm voice continued, “there’s a big heart, a lot of honesty…“Olivia could hardly disagree—honesty was the most important thing to her. And what could be wrong with a big heart? Olivia could feel where this was going. Hufflepuff was nice, sure, honest, but... Her father and mother often only saw what they wanted to see—“the kind Olivia, who fits into the house of kind girls.“
“Perhaps you would feel comfortable in Hufflepuff?“ the hat asked, as though it had read her thoughts.
Would she really? It sounded so simple. So... comfortable. The good-hearted, simple girl in one of the nicest houses. A house that she and everyone else would immediately understand. But was that all she was? What about the part of her that she herself didn’t understand? The part no one saw? The part she had hoped the hat would recognize?
Olivia wasn’t sure whether she should answer the hat’s question or if it was even a question, but the hat quickly made the decision for her, continuing, “You think I’ve already decided, don’t you? But there’s not just something in your heart, there’s something in your head too! You could have a brilliant future in Ravenclaw. You also seem curious.“ Another fact, Olivia had to admit—and a frequent point of contention between her and her mother, who couldn’t stand curiosity. Something she found somewhat hypocritical, considering Estelle was the most curious person on the planet.
She wasn’t sure if the hat could actually be amused, but it definitely sounded like it when it whispered softly, “So, it’s clear, isn’t it?“
“RAVENCLAW!“
Olivia murmured a small “Thank you,“ though she wasn’t sure for what she was thanking. Hastily, she pulled the hat off her head, and in the next moment, she was back at Hogwarts: four long tables with the students, one table now a sea of blue, clapping loudly. The sky was still cloudy, and the teachers were seated in their places as before. Elated—no, almost euphoric—she jumped into the roaring blue sea of applause and sat down, feeling the relief in her stomach, but at the same time, the questions that still swirled in her mind. The remaining names on the list were quickly called. Suddenly, all kinds of food appeared on the table before her, and the students—her fellow classmates—plunged into the feast. As Olivia helped herself to a spoonful of peas, she thought that her mother could go to hell.
Olivia’s eyes widened, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she stepped through the gates with the other students. Four long tables stood in the middle of a hall, where students sat with expectant, somewhat bored, or encouraging faces. Above, she could see the cloud-covered evening sky, as though she were still standing outside the breathtaking castle, not in the middle of it. At the end of the hall, there was another table where adult wizards and witches—she suspected they were the teachers—were seated. In front of this table, there was a tattered hat whose brim seemed to speak like a mouth, joking with the headmaster. From her mother, Olivia knew she didn’t need to be afraid of the Sorting Ceremony, but that was easy for someone who had already been through it all—not that her mother had ever been afraid of anything. She thought about the girls with whom she had shared a compartment on the train and silently hoped they would be sorted into the same house.
Soon, the famous talking hat began to sing. A deep silence settled over the hall. Olivia listened intently, although she already knew the qualities assigned to each house. Her mother had been sorted into Gryffindor; if she hadn’t been Muggle-born, she could have been in Slytherin too, but Olivia doubted she shared the same stubbornness as Estelle O’Brian. Then the headmaster, a slightly eerie older man in armor, called her name, and Olivia clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and marched toward the hat. As soon as she sat on the stool, the old hat was placed on her head; almost immediately, it slipped down over her eyes. Suddenly, it seemed as though there was no one else—just her. The hall, with its students and teachers, had vanished. The pounding pulse in her ears grew louder, the rush of her own blood clashing with each heartbeat. The uncomfortable fabric of the hat scratched against her forehead, and the taste of nervousness rose in her throat like biting vinegar.
“Mhm,“ said a voice in her head that was not her own, and Olivia realized it was the hat speaking to her. Her mother hadn’t told her the hat would actually talk to her. “Oh yes,“ the deep, warm voice continued, “there’s a big heart, a lot of honesty…“Olivia could hardly disagree—honesty was the most important thing to her. And what could be wrong with a big heart? Olivia could feel where this was going. Hufflepuff was nice, sure, honest, but... Her father and mother often only saw what they wanted to see—“the kind Olivia, who fits into the house of kind girls.“
“Perhaps you would feel comfortable in Hufflepuff?“ the hat asked, as though it had read her thoughts.
Would she really? It sounded so simple. So... comfortable. The good-hearted, simple girl in one of the nicest houses. A house that she and everyone else would immediately understand. But was that all she was? What about the part of her that she herself didn’t understand? The part no one saw? The part she had hoped the hat would recognize?
Olivia wasn’t sure whether she should answer the hat’s question or if it was even a question, but the hat quickly made the decision for her, continuing, “You think I’ve already decided, don’t you? But there’s not just something in your heart, there’s something in your head too! You could have a brilliant future in Ravenclaw. You also seem curious.“ Another fact, Olivia had to admit—and a frequent point of contention between her and her mother, who couldn’t stand curiosity. Something she found somewhat hypocritical, considering Estelle was the most curious person on the planet.
She wasn’t sure if the hat could actually be amused, but it definitely sounded like it when it whispered softly, “So, it’s clear, isn’t it?“
“RAVENCLAW!“
Olivia murmured a small “Thank you,“ though she wasn’t sure for what she was thanking. Hastily, she pulled the hat off her head, and in the next moment, she was back at Hogwarts: four long tables with the students, one table now a sea of blue, clapping loudly. The sky was still cloudy, and the teachers were seated in their places as before. Elated—no, almost euphoric—she jumped into the roaring blue sea of applause and sat down, feeling the relief in her stomach, but at the same time, the questions that still swirled in her mind. The remaining names on the list were quickly called. Suddenly, all kinds of food appeared on the table before her, and the students—her fellow classmates—plunged into the feast. As Olivia helped herself to a spoonful of peas, she thought that her mother could go to hell.