Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026

The Great Hall was a lot greater then Renfri had imagined. The majestic cathedral like look was already very overwhelming. The enchanted ceiling reflected the sky outside and Renfri couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Standing in the queue, amongst her future peers she waited for her turn to go up to the sorting hat to be sorted into one of the great houses of Hogwarts that she had heard her father's side talk about. The floating candles reminded Renfri of the incident that had happened five years ago, related to her first instance of magic. However, she quickly cast the thought away, wanting to begin anew.

Back home, when she had received her letter to Hogwarts, her father's side speculated which house she would be in. Almost all of them were certain she'd be in Slytherin. Her older cousins would make fun of her for being quiet and call her "cunning" when she was really just trying to help her mother. Everyone on her father's side was either a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff. Although her mother did not understand what the houses meant and why it would be a shame if a child got put into one that wasn't their families, she sat with Renfri for days, way before this day. They went through all of her Father's books, the Hogwarts texts and everything they could find to understand since Renfri's father couldn't be bothered to explain any of it. They had learnt a lot over the time, and her mother was certain that whatever house Renfri would be in, would be perfect for her.

Looking back at the memory, now only mere feet away from the sorting hat, Renfri couldn't help but feel a little nervous. What if she couldn't get into a house? What if the hat decided she wasn't a witch? On the journey to Hogwarts, nobody had sat with her in her train cabin and that alone made her more worried. What if she didn't fit in? What if she wasn't what they were looking for?

"RENFRI VESPERWYND!" announced the teacher, reading from the list of names, without a care in the world about Renfri's fears.

Renfri walked up onto the platform and sat on the chair. The sorting hat was placed on her head. For a moment, admist her fears and nerves, Renfri wondered if the hat was washed regularly or not, seeing it was put on so many students heads during the sorting ceremony. What if someone had lice?

"Lice can't effect a magic hat Miss Vesperwynd." said a voice. Renfri blinked, realising the hat was talking to her. She stiffened and shut her eyes, her nerves going wild. She didn't realise the hat could hear her.

"Now then, where to put you..." continued the hat, as it began speaking aloud. "Smart and good at riddles, yet... loyal. Shy and awkward, et certain of what you want aye?" said the hat. Renfri could feel a flush of embarrassment on her face. The hat was correct of course, but it was still jarring that a hat could identify her personality better then most people. "Ah, your family assumes you'll go into Slytherin. Quite a good house for someone like you, cunning and ambitious..." it continued and that stung a little.

"I am not cunning." said Renfri, quietly for the hat to hear. "I am not sly nor deceptive." Renfri muttered quietly. The moment after she spoke, she felt a sense of dread. Maybe she shouldn't have opposed the hat's judgement. But a quieter vice within her, the one she ignored most of the time, knew deep down she wasn't cunning or cruel. Renfri did not care which house she would get. She only wanted to be seen as who she truly was and not by assumptions. The hat paused thoughtfully before getting ready to announce its final answer.

"GRYFFINDOR!" announced the hat and the students at the Gryffindor table cheered. Renfri blinked before handing the hat back to the teacher and making her way to the table, still in awe and shock. Several thoughts swirled around in her mind but the main one was that this was going to be a new chapter in her life and she would live it to the fullest.

"There is no exquisite beauty... without some strangeness in the proportion."

Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026
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ℳℯ𝓃𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃: @N/A
𝒟𝒶𝓉ℯ: 09.01
ℰ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉: The Great Hall
𝒲ℴ𝓇𝒹𝒸ℴ𝓊𝓃𝓉: 537
"French " (2a4a7e)
"English"
"Accented"
Thoughts
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.
Walking through the halls was, surreal in a word.
Looking up, seeing the possibilities that magic could create. As beautiful as the blue hues, floating throughout the ceilings. Walking within the crowd. The boy who heard stories he took no interest of, was experiencing it all.

Students, older and such, sat on such wide tables. Long as it covers through the whole floors, eyes filled with curiosity. Curious on who were the newcomers.

Robes, falling and slightly draping on the tiles, along with feet, steady but eager on each step. Closer and closer, walking to the front, where a man awaits. Chatt's eyes lingered on each head, was he looking for someone? For his mind, he isn't. Though his heart signals a different approach.
Curly, curly...
Never mind.
Seemingly as it is, as his head have gotten the same presage.

Curly.. curly..
Heeding no mind to the hat, hearing the stories whom he have heard from the friend on the train.
Ah!
There he is.
Brown shades tangled through each. Chatt moved a bit closer.
"Excuseexcuse, sorry."
Squeezing every inch of his body through the waves of people, all of which entertained. Entertained by the mystery of their own future.

A bit closer..
"Excuse—"
He was there. An index closer. Closer as it felt like he had a strand of cloth reached to his fingertips.

"France Bellerose."

Crap.
.
.
he was, stepping away, towards the stool.
Chatt stopped, he stopped to where it's former was positioned. Chatt stood there, a man who can't be moved.

A name. A name was enough. France—wait France?

A face, a face he would remember. A face he couldn't—wouldn't forget. Rims covering his eyes, eyes that had the color of fresh dark wood.

"Slytherin!"

A house. A house that not even he knows, would be a place whereas he would pass by frequently enough.

Uttering a moan. Looking at his walking presence towards the table. Cheers and such, noise and all, came from there.
"What's wrong?"
"My heart went awhoomp."
"Gang what."
"Chatt Auclair."
"You know like—"
"Chatt Auclair."

Snapping back to the presence infront.
"Ah—sorry! . . .No English haha..."
"That's literally your name what—"
Jogging through the crowd, onto where the Hat was lifted above.
Carefully positioning himself.

Hands slowly lowering, placing the magical hat who can talk of sorts.
It would let out a hum.

"Oh."

"Yes. . . a competitive streak. You're far brighter than people expect..."

A brief pause.
"Not afraid to challenge authority, are you?"

Mouthing towards his snickering friend. Don't laugh.

It hummed once more.
"You possess courage. . Gyrffindor likely?"
Gryffindor, a frequent name that would be placed in each of his friends words. As it said, it was likely.
Chatt whispered, "Yes.." audible at a tone as the hat above deemed it.

"Though. ."
"What."
"You show no shortage of ambition...perhaps Slytherin?"
"Yes I'll take it!"
.
.
Oh dear.
It seems as if Chatts heart has reached it's peak.
Feet tapping anxiously from the ground.

"Yes..."
"You'll do well there."
YESSSS.....
.
.
.
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Huh?"

Amongst the applauses was one of his, cheering him on, feet padded up and down. Strutting hesitantly towards the table, where his people await.
But sadly not the one he himself awaited for.
.
.

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Last edited by Chatt Auclair on 5 Jul 2026, 04:20, edited 9 times in total.

Maybe we'll get married one day. But who knows?

Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026
I'm shaking through my entire body as I get closer and closer to the sorting hat. The sound of the my name being called by Lear makes me jump like a cat being pushed towards the water.

"Oriana Clearfellow!"

I think that I may just backpedal right back home. Or else puke. Instead, I stand perfectly still just a second too long, before I stumble forwards.

"Aaaah" says the sorting hat straight into my mind.

I close my eyes tight tight shut. "Just tell me i'm in hufflepuff already."

"hufflepuff? now why would you be there?"

"I'm a softy. I want to cry all the time. I can't look people in the eyes when I talk to them and I am way too sweet. People have always told me that I'm soft. I always knew I would be hufflepuff so just get it over and done with and put me there!" I hadn't meant to internally shout. Yet here we are.

To my surprise, the sorting hat.... laughs.

"that's a good one, such a good one, teeheeehee. all of this brilliant mind, this brilliant ability to read people and she thinks she should be in Hufflepuff, teehee. But you're not soft to people because you're kind, Oriana Clearfellow. You're soft to them because you see.. well, clearer than them. You're soft to them because you know them inside and out, because you are paying attention. You have a lot of potential. A lot of potential, a lot of vision, and a lot of cunning..."

I gasp. Out loud. I don't care that the whole great hall can hear me. I've pretty much forgotten them, myself, forgotten that i'm supposed to be shy, forgotten that I'm scared.

"No...!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

I almost faint as the hat is taken off of my head. Almost. It's with dazed, dizzy eyes that I get up, walk past all the sweet round and communal faces at the Hufflepuff table, and get to... the Slytherin one.

I sink between two other first years with the plummeting feeling that I may be eaten alive.

Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026
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x
The rim fell across his eyes, and with it, darkness, gentle and complete. Not the kind that was scary, but the kind seen beneath cathedral ceilings and among the yellowed pages of old books. The Great Hall faded into nothing more than echoes of applause and hushed whispers and moving chairs, until they sounded like the patter of raindrops on aged windows. For the first time all night, Evander stood alone.

But not quite alone. "Aha..." This voice did not appear as sound, but as thought, running softly through his mind. No hurry here, touching upon the afternoons of his childhood when he read beneath the boughs of old oaks and had his hands trained in pouring tea before taking his own cup, upon every thank you said to the house elves and every lesson learned about the importance of kindness regardless of one's name.

There was gentleness. There was restraint. And, tucked carefully underneath, there was sadness. Not enough to devour him. Just enough to be a part of him. "You have confused caution with safety..." the Hat observed, almost thoughtfully. "Interesting." Evander made no response. There were some truths which did not require either affirmation or negation. The Hat resumed its methodical searching, moving against an upbringing of manners which could be traced through years of family history, against a loyalty which was so unswerving that it had never been put to the test, and against a stubborn refusal of a heart to say goodbye again which was reflected in every considered smile.

"You revere wisdom." Silence. "But it is not your defining characteristic." Pause. "Nor beauty." More silence fell. Did the hat just indirectly call me ugly? "Courage comes in many forms, young Beauchamp. Sometimes it bears a sword." The rim seemed almost to smile.

"GRYFFINDOR!" His journey to the table where the other Gryffindors were seated was taking much longer than he expected. It was a faceless sea of curious grins, clapping hands, and friendly nods. Some welcomed him with eager waving of hands while others just moved aside to accommodate him. In appreciation of their gesture, he gave a slight nod and obliged by settling himself in the vacant spot. The golden platters in front of him lay unattended. No, instead, he followed with his eyes the floating candles below a sky made up of midnight and stars. Home! he mused.
.
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The halls remember every lion who chose honor over comfort.
𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢: September 1st, 2025
𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫: Great Hall
𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔣𝔦𝔱: x
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 210 words
𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔬𝔡𝔢: speech/thoughts
𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 N/A
𝔬𝔬𝔠 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: This means a lot to Evan. (I wanted him to be in Slytherin though.)
STATS: 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞 • 3 │ 𝔢𝔳𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 • 3 │ 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥 • 5 │ 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔬𝔪 • 9 │ 𝔞𝔯𝔠 𝔭𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯 • 3 │ 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔶 • 7
race PART-VEELA × ALLURING ability
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Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026
As I padded dutifully alongside the rest of my first-year peers, my thoughts races as I scanned the fantastical surroundings for information. I've heard Mum describe the Hogwarts grounds before, but being here myself - the physical immersion into this monstrous, noble new world - my body practically shook with flighting anticipation.

Once we had finished filing in, I couldn't help but size up my peers, trying to understand whatever I could from glances and overheard chatters alone. As the formalities commenced, my thoughts overtook my focus. I started to look up and down each of the house tables.

The mustard themed row of tables, the Hufflepuffs, snuck bites of food in and whispered haphazardly amongst themselves. In contrast, almost all students seated at the deep, royal blue row of Ravenclaws fixed their gazes to the Headmaster as he spoke. Many of those at the tables decorated in a fresh moss hue of green appeared to be doing the same thing as myself - scanning the surroundings, sizing up both their peers and the fresh chum first-years.

Then there were the crimsons. The Gryffindors. I didn't quite know what to make of them - I couldn't see any pattern in their behaviors or facial expressions. It struck me as quite strange, but bold in a manner I wasn't yet sure how to feel about. Part of me resonated with the powerful thrust of individuality. Another part of me wondered if I truly had what it took to ever be like them.

Before I know it, I hear: "Ho, Yung!"

I quickly snap out of thinking, and back into the realm of actions. I wade my way through the crows of first-years, and rush up the steps, nearly tripping over my robes along the way (but I recovered it!).

The hat is lowered onto the crown of my head. It slumps down my forehead, nearly covering my eyes, which stared up as if trying to catch a glimpse of this legendary sorting artifact.

"Hmm... a tricky past? You contain many opposites young one... You certainly aren't making this easy for me!"

My eyes squeezed close as my cheeks began to redden. I hated the thought of all eyes in the great hall on me in this moment of revelation.

"Don't worry, little one, nothing to be ashamed of, quite the opposite in fact! Exploration is the key to discovery, this is what I see. Ought to be... GRYFFINDOR!"

HUH? WOW!

Polite applause rang from some tables as I made my way towards the first-year tables draped in crimson. I suppose there's more courage to me than I realized. And there will be no better place for me to explore all that I can achieve.