Sorting Ceremony
1st September 2026 - 30th June 2027
September 1st 2025 would mark the arrival of a fresh generation of wizards. This is also the day older students return to an oh so familiar scene. This story is of course not for the older students. They had already been here... done that. The Sorting Ceremony is a tradition that has remained unchanged for generations. There was still excitement too be found in ceremony and routine. who among the throng of fresh-faced, wide-eyed children would share their dormitory, their house, their tables?
These first years were about to embark on a novel journey. For those with a magical family; older brothers, parents or even friends, they might know what this gathering was all about. For others, specifically the muggle-borns, this might be a more stressful day as their 'normal' muggle life is finally truly over and the world that they are now a part of is entirely unlike their own. At this sorting ceremony each new student with the help of the sorting hat would be placed in one of four Houses -- Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.
Hufflepuff for the loyal and the hard-working.
Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious.
Ravenclaw for the studious and the clever.
Gryffindor the the prideful and the brave.
Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious.
Ravenclaw for the studious and the clever.
Gryffindor the the prideful and the brave.
As they say, the Sorting Hat is never wrong and while for some the Sorting Hat may pick a House that is unwanted or unexpected, it simply means that the House saw something in you that you failed to see within yourself. In the years that would surely follow, you will learn about yourself, make friends, enemies, and rivals. You might have seen yourself as bookish, ambitious, brave or kind, but became so much more given time and opportunity.
The room itself was grand. Four long dining tables stretched the length of the room with benches on either side. As it always was on the first day -- it was standing room only. A feast was laid out family-style down the center of each of the four tables, the children would gorge themselves on every sort of food one could think of in the shared space. 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 and with some of the more curious students. Overhead lit candles hovered, illuminating the great space and the high vaulted ceiling above. It was loud, the roar of conversation as well as the excitement and anticipation of many of the students as they waited and they wondered where they were going to be sorted. Many had a preference, one that the hat often, but not always, honored. Many came back exuberant, but there were a few that would slink back to the crowd after they were sorted astonished or even dismayed that they were placed in the house that they were.Out of Character Note: The sorting ceremony that you enjoyed is a weight-based algorithm that chose your house based on the answers you have chosen. This is not randomly assigned. We hope you took care in picking your answers because this is the House that you will be in for the next several years while you attend this school!
To reiterate, despite it being mentioned in the welcoming letter I feel it is important to say once again: we do not allow players to re-attempt the sorting ceremony, nor do we forcibly sort players into their desired houses. An unexpected house can serve as a great tool for character development. Please utilize the unexpected outcome to your fullest ability.
A man who resembled Solomon Lear, the Headmaster was there. He was a curious, unexpected figure for the upperclassmen, they had not seen or heard from him since he had been swallowed up by the earth. This man, slightly taller than some might remember him, met most of the students at the door as they entered the Great Hall although there was always a wily one that would slip past. Somewhat imposing, standing a bit over six foot, six foot - three inches to be exact and wearing armor. The armor was a strange characteristic of the grey haired wizard with a full beard and dark, stormy eyes - heavy metal plate wrapped in an embossed leather that while definitely worn with evidence of repair and appeared to be well cared for. He appeared indifferent, going through the motions this day. This was for the most part pomp and circumstance, a ritual to start the school year as it always had, one could not waver from what was tradition. At his side or at least nearby, always a Head of House but they appeared to rotate their presence near the Headmaster. Those with a keen eye might notice that the older man lacked his characteristic limp.
Once the students were all inside, the doors would close behind the last student as if on its own. The 'headmaster' would quietly make his way to the front of the room, this awkward period of time as he traversed the length of the hall. His movement for the most part demanding without requesting silence. With the assistance of the Amplifying Charm his voice boomed. "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 chimed in from... It did not come from the Headmaster nor did it come from any of the other Professors that elected to participate in this year's sorting ceremony. None of the Professors seemed even remotely surprised although one rolled their eyes a bit, they made the same joke every year it seemed. In the hands of one of the Professors, a pointed witches hat that was tattered and worn moved about on its own accord. Yes, the voice came from the hat itself.
The 'headmaster' let out a bit of a cough, as if he was making sure that the hat was going to let him continue to speak. "Ah yes, the intelligent" he eyed the hat. They had done this exchange before, it was nice having a sense of normalcy once again. A shame that the hat had not come up with a new joke in the past year but he had not come up with a new speech either. The hat was in a lot of ways similar to Headmaster Lear, making things appear as normal as possible which was never easy, a farce in the best of circumstances. Headmaster Lear gave a slight smile to the sorting hat and said in a low voice that the study body could not overhear. Neither of us are terribly funny anymore I say. Which is fine, they will pretend to laugh anyways. During the school year, the Sorting Hat spent the rest of the year in the Headmaster's Office. Renovated the summer of 2019 with better security than before, there had been a restless peace the past year as they both kept to themselves.
"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 characteristic, their own values and their own Head of House." He would gesture towards the present four Heads of House and the Deputy Headmistress and announce each of their names in order before continuing his instruction. "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 the Sorting Hat is never wrong, once you are sorted your House will not change for the duration of your time in Hogwarts."
Solomon would pull a scroll from his waist and open the tightly bound parchment. The list was long this year, even longer than last year. There was a bit of nervousness within him as the long scroll hit the floor, one end still in his hand and rolled several feet away. There were names, so many names. This was going to take awhile he thought to himself. It was as if the list got longer and longer every single year, the wizard baby boom was not over yet.Out of Character Note: You should have a letter from your Head of House upon completing the sorting ceremony that gives you some basic information regarding where to go and where to start. If you have any questions or concerns, they are a great resource, please use them.
As if on queue, the Sorting Hat would be placed on a small stool and would start moving and singing:
The Sorting Hat then sang his song :
" A thousand years or more ago
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
For were their such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
As Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
They had the selfsame yearning
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones, they had to teach.
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones, they had to teach.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When were they dead and gone?
Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When were they dead and gone?
Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've got a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends. "
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've got a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends. "
Once the Sorting Hat was done, most of the students applauded the sorting hat. It was technically the Deputy Headmistress' duty to grow hoarse listing off all of the names. He had tried to pawn the role of Deputy Headmaster off on one of his Heads of House in 2018, all of them ridiculously competent and smart enough to say "no." Eventually @Hjørdis Jensen, better known as "Nora" would be conned convinced (typos are truly a terrible thing) to accept the mantle. Solomon sometimes wondered if he was even needed as Headmaster. They had managed the school admirably in his absence during 2019. Never the less, the old armored man would start to recite each name on the list and one by one the students would be summoned to the front of the room where the Sorting Hat would be placed on their head. It was time to start their journey.
This is a RPG topic where all new first year students are welcome to post.
All RPG rules apply. Word count per post is 200 words of your own work, not including quotes, ooc chat or other people's words. Any flood type (posts under 200 words) of message will be deleted after a warning owl is sent. If you are having a hard time meeting the 200 word count expectation try to be descriptive: How was the trip here? How are you feeling? Are you hoping for a certain house, if so why?
Very minor god-modding is allowed here because there are hundreds of you and only one of me. Please be respectful of this fact and keep most of your post about you. You know that my character called your name, they might give you a kind smile and a word of encouragement but in character he is also seeing hundreds of students in a single day. He would not be spending a lot of time on a single student, this ceremony goes on for hours. As for the sorting hat, again please respect the cannon. The sorting hat would see something in you, they would not decide because you are someone they 'especially hate' for instance that they would place you in the 'wrong house.' Think about what traits you do have that make you a suitable fit for the house you got and have the hat give that as a delivery for instance. Or if you cannot think of anything, the hat never tells you their reasoning as they declare your house.
We have a Prefect Staff that moderates this forum and this thread in particular. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to a Prefect or other staff member.
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
Sorting Ceremony
banner made by Lily McCoire
The little blonde first-year in the rows of new students blinked as she stared around the big grand hall. There were so many people, though she was well used to that. That and the noise. It annoyed her in this scale, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it. So, she just sat among the other eleven-year-olds and watched the proceedings.
She was quite annoyed at her mother, even now. Receiving her Hogwarts letter had been a shock: Mama had stared at the paper, flipped it over and back, inspected the envelope, then declared the entire thing a childish prank. (She had used stronger words than that.) The girl herself had not known quite what to think of it. Was she supposed to believe it? Was she supposed to be happy? Cry? What sort of scammer or pranker would spend so much time and money on such an elegant letter if it wasn't real? Though she didn't often think about it over the next week, sometimes it gnawed at her mind quite stubbornly. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Muggle-born? What did it all even mean? But they'd eventually been visited by some very odd people, and even after Mama finally chose to believe that her daughter was a "witch", she had adamantly refused to tell the girl's father.
Living with such parents as the girl did was, frankly, exhausting. Mama, living in Scotland, hated Papa, who had moved to England from their mother land of Russia just two years ago. The girl wished they would just get along. She had no idea what had caused their epic relationship-ending fight eleven years ago. She didn't even really care; just wanted a happy family.
The names droned on and on, and so did that talking hat. The girl sat in silence, watching child after child walk up to the hat and walk back to join the reds, the blues, the greens, or the yellows. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff. What odd names. Her hands itched to be trailing through the air; her legs itched to be propelling her into said air. This odd school had better have a rink. If it didn't, she was going to have to find a way to train. There was no way on God's green earth the girl was going to go long without training.
Finally, she heard her name. "Evgenia Starkova!"
Green eyes and an elegant blonde braided bun glided up the floor, her gait airy and smooth. Evgenia Starkova had never looked more at ease in such an unfamiliar environment.
I should be in skates right now.
She had no time for witchcraft or magic. Evgenia was often stated to produce magic, but that came of practice, dedication, and hard work. It came of the rare spill of blood, copious amounts of sweat and strain, and the occasional tears of frustration. She put in the hours to perform her step sequences and laybacks and double axels as they should be performed and to put them all together into one gorgeous program. Nothing in the world ever came easily. Whatever this odd school might proclaim, there was no such thing as magic.
But as she sat upon that stool, the eyes of hundreds of people upon her, Evgenia Starkova, aspiring elite Russian-Scottish figure skater, born to two ordinary and non-magical humans, felt the unmistakable hum of something other as the talking hat was placed on top of her hair. Something slightly familiar, yet so foreign.
And then that talking hat spoke.
"Evgenia Starkova," it muttered, making her jump slightly. "Ah, yes . . . Evgenia. Skeptical, are you?" She didn't dare reply. "Very hardworking. So much ambition . . . you could go into Slytherin." The greens, the one whose mascot seemed to be a snake? The hat kept rambling. "Brave, no doubt, and loyal but not quite right for Gryffindor. That loyalty would suit you for Hufflepuff. Clever, but not a Ravenclaw." The hat was quiet for a few moments, and Evgenia blinked out at the hall. "So are you a Slytherin, dear Evgenia? Or a Hufflepuff?" She hated the sound of its speech. You have ambition. You want a high place for yourself. You want esteem. This does not suit you to Hufflepuff, but what does is your work ethic. Your loyalty. This is what drives your need for esteem - the need for validation of all your hard work. Where to put you, Evgenia Starkova?" This was taking a long time. Such a long time. Evgenia didn't think any other sorting had taken this long. Am I dreaming?
The hat was silent for almost half a minute before it startled a good amount of people by yelling at the top of its lungs, "HUFFLEPUFF!!" Evgenia nearly fell off the stool and then cast the hat a wicked side-eye, thinking a few choice Russian curses that would have earned her a slap if she ever voiced them at home. Then, it was back down the hall to the long table full of cheering yellow-wearing badger-mascotted odd people calling themselves witches and wizards. She slid into the first empty seat she saw. She really, really wanted to be skating right now. That was what she should be doing. She hadn't trained for two whole days by now! Calm yourself, she thought acidly. You will figure it out.
open to interactions.
"Don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light." - Florence + the Machine, 'Third Eye'
Arcane power: 3 | Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 6 | Accuracy: 6 | Wisdom: 6 | Strength: 6
Sorting Ceremony
coded and banner by: Marigold Wesley
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word count: 1107 —— mention: @Name Name Name —— location: Great Hall —— date: 09 / 01 / 2026 ——
ooc note: write your text here here and here.
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word count: 1107 —— mention: @Name Name Name —— location: Great Hall —— date: 09 / 01 / 2026 ——
ooc note: write your text here here and here.
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| ————— | An old hat. Marigold knew she was fairly new about the fact that there's actually a world of magic existing in reality and not just in some fantasy book, but no. The world had to throw her along with this setup which she is completely and totally clueless about. It was weird in a sense that made her just want to return back to her family house and just curl on her cushion and read books. But she can't just back out now. Not when she already traveled too far to go home on her own. She doesn't even know how to go back home when she got on a boat and a train to the ginormous castle that was supposed to be a school. She prepared herself to almost every oddities that she will see as much as she could to at least not make herself look funny in front of the other wizard folks. But even with the ceiling showing the night sky full of twinkling stars, she can only stare at the battered-looking brown hat that seemed to have seen horrors and tragedies for millennia. They had explained about the sorting ceremony earlier right after they arrived inside the castle, and of all things, she hadn’t expected the professors to group students into four different factions they call ‘Houses’. She fairly remembered about it from the conversations she heard from other first years during the train ride. She should’ve just finished reading the entire textbooks instead of focusing on just the Herbology… now she doesn’t even know which house she will be able to go to if it’s not exams like how she expected. Well, what can math or science help in sorting new students in a magical school anyway? But still, a hat? If someone told her that this piece of fabric was that important enough to decide for her future and of other new students as well, she’d politely think that they’re being crazy. But alas, the world seemed determined enough to prove her that the impossible things always happen with remarkable regularity. It was overwhelming… especially when that said hat started to sing about stuffs like bravery, ambition, loyalty, and wit. As if those qualities are enough to decide where would a child belong into. Her hazel eyes can only blink at the sight and hastily clap along other students when it finished its own peculiar song. When they started to call the names one by one, Marigold’s hands went clammy and cold as she watched the kids sat by the prepared stool and let the hat shout the house it thought would suit the students. Some had their head barely touched while others took several long moment before receiving an answer, and somehow she can only grip the side of her robes tightly in nervousness. She totally have no idea about what make someone brave enough for one house or clever enough to be on another. Much more, she feared that once she was under that hat, she won’t get an answer to where she might belong to… “…Wesley, Marigold.” She subtly flinched, startled when she heard her name got called. That’s me… her face flushed as she hurried forward when she felt stares pointed towards her not just from the other new students but also from other older ones. She just hoped that no one noticed her flinch like a scared, cautious cat… but she can only hope, not when there are hundreds pair of eyes stare at her. The moment the old hat was lowered over her head, her hand clenched over her lap tightly as it slipped down enough to shadow her vision. And then she heard it… that voice that almost seemed to echo in her mind. “Well now… what do we have here?” Mari stiffened at the stool, spine straightening as she gulped. Who’s that…? “Polite enough to ask… now that’s refreshing,” the voice chuckled in her head and she can only look around instinctively, wondering if they can hear the voice she was hearing as well or if she’s just being crazy right this moment. “Let’s see… gentle heart. Mh. Far gentler than you allow yourself to believe…” Um… she swallowed, feeling strangely exposed at the words the voice had uttered. “Curious… not just for books, but for people. You listen before speaking… mh. You would rather understand than be understood.” The voice continued and she can only bit her lip at how seemingly accurate that sounded. “But you’re also frightened. Not of magic… but of getting things wrong. Of disappointing someone without every meaning to. Interesting…” Mari’s grip tightened further at her lap. Why… why can that voice read her so thoroughly? Why can that voice sense her emotions? Is this how they’re really sorted? Why does it feel like her privacy was being pried at this very moment? “You’d fit well among those who value kidness… loyalty seems to come naturally to you too. And yet…” the voice paused and chuckled slightly. “Questions… endless questions. You wish to understand everything right in front of you… but not to prove yourself clever. The unknown fascinates you, even if it frightens you as well.” Why does this voice knows that? “The house of yellow will welcome you warmly,” the voice continued, but she was already lost in her questions and shock at how accurately the hat seemed to have read her entirety. “But, your mind wanders toward mysteries. And for sure, you won’t stop asking questions until the world starts to make sense for you. Better be…” Mari can only blink, unable to understand what that meant at all and the reason why that voice seemingly sounded pleased over something, but before her mind could be swarmed with another barrage of questions, the hat announced. “…RAVENCLAW!” As the hall burst into applause right after that announcement, Mari can only blink under the brim of the old hat. Ravenclaw? Was it… good? Bad? She really have the faintest idea but the hat was already lifted before she could think further. The moment she saw eyes pointed towards her, her face immediately flushed red and she snapped from her momentary shock. O-Oh! She stood far too quick that she nearly stumbled near one of the stool’s leg and her own foot before catching herself. Great… another embarrassment. Wonderful, Mari. With her head lowered, she rushed towards the table bathed in bronze and blue. She doesn’t know what to do now… and what does being Ravenclaw meant, but maybe it was her start. Start to learning and discovering that there are very much more left to learn. |
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interactions | dialogues ; thoughts ; hat
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stamina 5 | evasion 4 | strength 4 | wisdom 6 | accuracy 7 | arcane power 8
ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY
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stamina 5 | evasion 4 | strength 4 | wisdom 6 | accuracy 7 | arcane power 8
ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY——ABILITY
Last edited by Marigold Wesley on 5 Jul 2026, 08:58, edited 1 time in total.
Sorting Ceremony
Coding by @Estelle Nyx
time: The Sorting Ceremony
location: The Great Hall
Reducio@noone
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Around her were the rest of the first years, all either whispering to each other or stunned at the sights like Minyu.
She had barely been able to listen to the headmaster's speech, because everything around her was so distracting. To think that in just a few months, or weeks even, she would feel at home here. Minyu had to scoff at the thought. She could never actually get used to this. No, she would always appreciate this beauty.
The headmaster had talked about the sorting process, and there had been a voice coming from the hat as well. Her immediate thought was that the talking hat must have been some sort of trick, but she had quickly pushed the thought away again. This was Hogwarts after all. She had already seen chocolate frogs running away, and small moving pictures, so surely, a talking hat would be possible as well, although it was a lot to take in. When it started singing, was when she was really taken out of her thought process.
She wished that her parents could be here to see all this with her. She knew it would never be possible, but she didn't know how she could ever begin to describe this place to them. She decided that the first thing she would do when she had free time was to write them a letter, while everything was still fresh in her mind. She let out a small giggle at the thought of her mother seeing all of this. Her head would have surely fallen off by now.
After a while, her attention turned to students lining up for the sorting hat. Some of the students got their houses immediately as the hat was placed on their heads, while the hat took its time with others. She simply couldn't wrap her mind around how or why.
While she was still lost in thought, a loud voice yelled out her name and immediately pulled her back to reality.
"MINYU MCCULLEN!" She stared at the empty seat in front of the thousands of students who were eagerly awaiting her next step. She felt unable to move. Minyu took a deep breath and carefully made her way to the front of the room. She could feel her heart pounding, and for a moment, she feared her heart would jump out of her chest. She was not used to being in front of so many people, and she wasn't sure that she liked all the attention on her. She tried to straighten her back and look more confident, so as not to show how anxious she truly was, but she wasn't sure it worked.
She sat down, and looked out at all the students staring at her. Some gave her encouraging looks, while others were busy chatting with each other.
As the hat was placed on her head, she fearfully held her breath and closed her eyes shut. She grabbed the bottom of the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"No need to be so nervous, Miss McCullen.." A voice roared through her mind. She opened her eyes and looked around. It was the hat. Did anyone else hear that?
"Only you can hear me, Minyu. I am not in the business of exposing students' secrets.." The hat said. Minyu let out a breath of relief.
"Ah yes... Well, brave you are indeed. You were scared, but you persevered. Perhaps Gryffindor could be a nice fit.." It said.
"No... I think we could still do better... You are a clever girl, as well. Curious, too. Eager to learn... Ravenclaw could do.." The hat continued.
Minyu could tell it still wasn't done. She thought about how odd this must look to everyone else in the hall. So she was apparently one of the students the hat took its time with.
"Cunning..? No.. I do see ambition, though... Slytherin is not in the books for you, young one." Minyu felt herself getting impatient. How long would she have to sit here?
"Alright... I think we're there now... For you are both loyal and kind. Hard-working too. I should've seen this before.." The hat spoke.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat roared out for everyone to hear.
Cheers and applause erupted from everyone, but especially the Hufflepuff table.
Her cheeks started to flush, and she didn't doubt that everyone who looked at her at this moment could see her getting red. She was reminded of the chocolate frog card she had opened on the Hogwarts Express.
Helga Hufflepuff.
Minyu had no doubt in her mind that Hufflepuff was the right fit for her.
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WC=886
ReducioPre grammarly:
A million thoughts was racing through Minyu's mind as she walked through the doors of the Great Hall. She had been waiting for this moment for months, and now she was finally here. She simply could not believe it. Minyu had never seen anything like this hall. She had expected the castle to be beautiful, of course, but nothing could even describe what she saw before her eyes. The ceiling was so tall, that it almost felt endless, and when looking up she saw the same sky, that she had seen just moments before when she was still outside. There were at least hundreds, no, thousands of candles floating in the air above her. The magic was so much more grand, that she had ever imagined.
Around her, were the rest of the first years, all either whispering to each other, or stunned at the sights like Minyu.
She had barely been able to listen to the headmasters speech, because everything around her was so distracting. To think, that in just a few months, or weeks even, she would feel at home her. Minyu had to scoff at the thought. This could never actually get used to this. No, she would always appreciate this beauty.
The headmaster had talked about the sorting process, and there had been a voice coming from the hat as well. Her immediate thought was that the talking hat must have been some sort of trick, but she had quickly pushed the thought away again. This was Hogwarts after all. She had already seen chocolate frogs running away, and small moving pictures, so surely, a talking hat would be possible as well, although it was a lot to take in.
She wished that her parents could be here, to see all this with her. She knew it would never be possible, but she didn't know how she could ever begin to describe this place to them. She decided that the first thing she would do when she had free time, was to write them a letter, while everything was still fresh in her mind. She let out a small giggle, at the thought of her mother seeing all of this. Her head would have surely fallen off by now.
After a while her attention got turned to students lining up for the sorting hat. Some of the students got their houses immediately as the hat was placed on their heads, while the hat took its time with others. She simply couldn't wrap her mind around how or why.
While she was still lost in thought, a loud voice yelled out her name and immediately pulled her back to reality.
"MINYU MCCULLEN!" She stared at the empty seat in front of the thousands of students who were eagerly awaiting her next step. She felt unable to move. Minyu took a deep breath, and carefully made her way to the front of the room. She could feel her heart pounding, and for a moment, she feared her heart would jump out of her chest. She was not used to being in front of so many people, and she wasn't sure that she liked all the attention on her. She tried to straighten her back and look more confident, as to not show how anxious she truly was, but she wasn't sure it worked.
She sat down, and looked out at all the students staring at her. Some gave her encouraging looks, while others were busy chatting with each other.
As the hat was placed on her head, she fearfully held her breath and closed her eyes shut. She grabbed the bottom off the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
"No need, to be so nervous, Miss McCullen.." A voice roared through her mind. She opened her eyes and looked around. It was the hat. Did anyone else hear that?
"Only you can hear me, Minyu. I am not in the business of exposing students secrets.." The hat said. Minyu let out a breath of relief.
"Ah yes... Well, brave you are indeed. You were scared, but you persevered. Perhaps Gryffindor, could be a nice fit.." It said.
"No... I think we could still do better... You are a clever girl, as well. Curious, too. Eager to learn... Ravenclaw could do.." The hat continued. Minyu could tell it still wasn't done. She thought about how odd this must look to everyone else in the hall. So she was apparently on of the students the hat took its time with.
"Cunning..? No.. I do see ambition, though... Slytherin is not in the books for you, young one." Minyu felt herself getting impatient.
"Alright... I think we're there now... For you are both loyal and kind. Hard-working too. I should've seen this before.." The hat spoke.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat roared out for everyone to hear.
Cheers and applause erupted from everyone, but especially the Hufflepuff table. Her cheeks started to flush, and she didn't doubt that everyone who looked at her at this moment could see her getting red. She was reminded of the chocolate frog card she had opened on the Hogwarts Express. Helga Hufflepuff. Minyu had no doubt in her mind that Hufflepuff was the right fit for her.
Sorting Ceremony
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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ sta 05 | eva 04 | str 04 | wis 07 | arc 08 | acc 07 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
━━━Ability━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━The first thing Elara noticed when she stepped into the Great Hall was the ceiling. Her father had mentioned it before, but it was still different seeing it with her own eyes. For a moment, she forgot why everyone was gathered there and simply looked up. The night sky stretched overhead, scattered with stars, while candles floated quietly through the air.
A voice nearby brought her attention back to the front of the hall. She took her place with the other first years, and watched as the sorting began. One student after another walked to the stool, disappeared beneath the old hat for a few moments, then headed off as cheers broke out somewhere in the hall. Some looked pleased, others looked as though they had finally remembered to breathe. Elara adjusted the cuff of her robe and waited. The list of names grew shorter. Then she heard her name being called. "Elara Whitlock."
She walked to the stool, trying not to think about how many people were watching. Once she sat down, the Sorting Hat slipped over her eyes. "Hmm...," The Hat said. Elara blinked. "Quiet. You spend more time listening than talking." She wasn't sure if she was expected to answer, so she stayed still. "You like learning because you're curious. Not because you want people to notice." The Hat paused. "And you're patient. It takes time for you to trust people, but when you do, you mean it." There was another brief silence. "I know where you'll do well." Then the Hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Applause echoed through the hall.
Elara lifted the hat off, placed it back on the stool, and made her way to the Hufflepuff table. She found an empty space on the bench and sat down, smoothing her robe before resting her hands on the table. The sorting carried on while she looked around.
She let out a quiet breath. The nerves hadn't disappeared, but they weren't quite as noticeable anymore. Sitting at the Hufflepuff table, she found herself wondering who she would meet first, what the common room would be like, and what tomorrow's classes would bring. Those thoughts were enough to make her feel a little more excited than nervous.
Sorting Ceremony
September 1st, 2026
Like many of the other first years, as Eveline stepped into the Great Hall, her eyes first caught the ceiling. Or, rather, the apparent lack of a ceiling. She knew, from what her father had told her one day, that the ceiling was enchanted to match the sky outside. She could see the stars, and she could hear the students who came from muggle and mixed families gasping in awe. Adorable, really.
Her plain black robes were well-tailored. She had purchased the finest ones Madam Malkin's had had, and the material of the fabric felt nice and soft against the skin of her arms. She wasn't a very big fan of the pointed hat she was wearing, but a uniform was a uniform, so she couldn't moan about it.
Before long, the Headmaster gave his speech about the Sorting Ceremony - which any students who put in the effort to even begin to research the school before attending would have already surely known about - and then the Sorting Hat itself began to sing. Its songs had been considered legendary among the student population for years, and the applause certainly supported that assertion.
Finally, the Headmaster began reciting the names. One by one, students were called up to sit on the stool and face the future seven years. Seven years were to be determined by an enchanted hat reading the mind of eleven year olds. It was fascinating, really.
Eveline was one of the first students, given the early alphabetical nature of her name. As she approached the stool, she wondered which house she would be sorted into.
Really, anything but Hufflepuff would be fine, she decided. Loyalty was all fine and good, and being in Hufflepuff would certainly help with her image as a trustworthy, kind witch. But, frankly, Eveline saw herself as better than a Hufflepuff student.
Gryffindor wasn't her first choice, either. She certainly possessed courage. But chivalry? There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and chivalry only blurred that line.
Ravenclaw would have been acceptable. Father had been a Ravenclaw, of course. Prefect, too, in his fifth year. Wit and learning were to be celebrated, and, coming from a family of potion-makers, Eveline would be far from embarrassed to be sorted into Ravenclaw.
Slytherin, however, was her preferred house by far. Her mother had been a Slytherin student. Quite talented, too. Ambition and cunning were in Eveline's blood. Mother had been teaching her the art of manipulation since she was old enough to speak. Slytherin would be quite fitting indeed.
As she sat on the stool, her mind warred between the desire to embrace her cunning or to embrace her wit. Which did she want more? The Hat would surely have just a difficult time deciding as she was. After all-
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Hat's voice boomed through the Great Hall before it even properly rested on Eveline's head. Had it even been touching her hair yet? It was fast. Eveline had no proof of it, but she almost suspected it was the fastest sorting yet of the night.
She rose confidently, chin held high as she walked to the Slytherin table.
Sorting Ceremony
Ottilie had always wondered about the secrets the world hid outside of the small bubble that she lived in, which consisted of her hometown and the odd business trip she would go on with her father. A part of her had always felt that there was so much out there that she didn’t know, that most people didn’t know.
Of course, she never would have guessed this.
When her letter had arrived, she had been elated, though admittedly confused. After all, schools where children learned magic spells and potions were the thing of fairytales… weren’t they? Her parents were more concerned than confused, worried that the letter was some hoax to trick hard working people out of their money—after all, they had read of scams like that online and had heard it on the news—the long list of supplies needed for attendance only feeding that fear. However, the Canvendish home received visitors from the school itself, who were more than ready to explain everything.
That was how Ottilie Canvendish had wound up here, at Hogwarts (a very peculiar name for a school, in her opinion—which she very much adored), standing in the middle of a crowd of other eleven year old children, awaiting her turn in what the Headmaster had called the ‘Sorting Ceremony’. She swore she recalled him saying something about a hat, though she couldn’t be completely sure, what with the children around her murmuring in nervous anticipation. Of course, it didn’t help that her mind was still reeling from everything she had already learned—and she hadn’t even begun schooling yet!
Her family had been shown to a pub in London named the Leaky Cauldron, through which they had gotten to a place called Diagon Alley, where they were told they could find all the supplies listed in Ottilie’s letter. They went to Gringott’s Bank upon being told that wizards have a different currency than Muggles—what non-wizards are apparently called, another term that Ottilie is quite fond of—and that all the shops would only accept the wizard’s currency. The banks, they discovered, was run entirely by goblins. Goblins! Ottilie wanted to ask a million questions, but the creatures didn’t look as if they would much appreciate her curiosity. So, her and her mother—her father had stayed at a small ice cream parlor with her sister, Imogen—exchanged some of their Muggle money for the wizarding currency. Most of the shopping was rather similar to all the school shopping Ottilie had endured up until that point—though much more exciting, as now all of her books and supplies were about or for magic. Purchasing her wand, however, was the most magical thing Ottilie had yet to experience. Her wand came from a shop called Ollivanders, where the shopkeeper, a man named Mr. Ollivander, had told her “The wand chooses the wizard”. She didn’t know what that could possibly mean at that moment, but the longer she was in the shop, the more apparent it became. Ottilie was given several wands and instructed to give them a go by waving or flicking them, and each wand was taken rather fast after it caused some sort of damage to the shop—she had even blown out the front windows with one! Luckily, Mr. Ollivander was able to fix it with a simple wave of his wand, which was the second most interesting part of the visit. The most was when Mr. Ollivander finally gave her the right wand, and a warm breeze seemed to brush through her hair, a tingling sensation tricking up her arm from where she held the wand.
She kept to herself the train ride to the school, reading her books. She almost wished someone had spoken to her, though, so used to the constant companionship of Imogen. The long ride had started to sprout a fear in her mind, that maybe being a Muggle-Born at Hogwarts would always be lonely. She quickly forgot about that fear when they boarded the boats that sailed themselves across the lake and to the school. And now, here she stands, inside the castle—yes, the school was a freaking castle—awaiting what comes next.
She realized she should have been paying much more attention when she heard her name being muttered by the eleven year olds around her who had yet to have their turns being sorted either.
“Ottilie Canvendish!” the Headmaster called, which he seemed to have done at least once before.
She felt heat rush to her face and muttered apologies as she pushed through to the front of the crowd. At the front of the raised platform with the staff table, there was a small stool, atop which sat an old, weathered, pointed hat. Uncertain, Ottilie stepped up onto the platform and made her way to the stool, picking up the hat and placing it atop her head as she sat on the stool. A strange sensation came over her as the hat slipped over her eyes, far too large for her head.
“Well, what have we here?” a strange voice asked, seemingly inside of Ottilie’s head, causing her to jump. The voice chuckled, seemingly inside to read her thoughts as it asked, “Not very good at paying attention, are we? The Headmaster did say I am intelligent.”
I’m being scolded by a hat, Ottilie thought to herself.
“Yes, yes,” the voice answered promptly, “perhaps that will teach you a lesson—though, I don’t believe it will.” The voice hummed to itself, seeming to think something over. “Rather curious, aren’t you? And very eager to learn… yes… Ravenclaw would do you well…”
Ottilie was relieved that she knew what he was talking about, to an extent. The Hogwarts staff that had visited her family to tell her and her parents about the school had explained how the students are split between four houses—Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor—and they are to be like a family while a student is at the school. She asked as many questions as she could, but the only things that really made much sense to her was that each house values a different thing. The Slytherins value cunning and ambition, the Ravenclaws wisdom and creativity. Hufflepuffs tend to be those who are loyal and determined, whilst Gryffindor is home to those who value bravery and chivalry.
“You also posses a great deal of spontaneity,” the voice mused. “You’re protective, mostly of others but also of yourself. You seek answers, you thirst for adventure. Ravenclaw would suit you well… but no… better be…”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
This time, the voice echoed around the entire hall. Cheers erupted, and Ottilie took that as a sign that it was okay for her to remove the hat. She faced the four long tables filled with students, clad in green, yellow, blue, and red. The students in red, the Gryffindors, were all cheering the loudest, the other tables clapping politely.
Ottilie glanced at the Headmaster to make sure she was meant to leave, then skipped off to the table with her fellow Gryffindors. She found a small gap between students toward the front of the table, and hesitated for a long moment before squeezing into the space. The students on either side of her gave her small smiles, and one across the table reached across to give her a high five.
Ottilie grinned as the next student walked up to the hat. Maybe Hogwarts won’t be so lonely after all.
Of course, she never would have guessed this.
When her letter had arrived, she had been elated, though admittedly confused. After all, schools where children learned magic spells and potions were the thing of fairytales… weren’t they? Her parents were more concerned than confused, worried that the letter was some hoax to trick hard working people out of their money—after all, they had read of scams like that online and had heard it on the news—the long list of supplies needed for attendance only feeding that fear. However, the Canvendish home received visitors from the school itself, who were more than ready to explain everything.
That was how Ottilie Canvendish had wound up here, at Hogwarts (a very peculiar name for a school, in her opinion—which she very much adored), standing in the middle of a crowd of other eleven year old children, awaiting her turn in what the Headmaster had called the ‘Sorting Ceremony’. She swore she recalled him saying something about a hat, though she couldn’t be completely sure, what with the children around her murmuring in nervous anticipation. Of course, it didn’t help that her mind was still reeling from everything she had already learned—and she hadn’t even begun schooling yet!
Her family had been shown to a pub in London named the Leaky Cauldron, through which they had gotten to a place called Diagon Alley, where they were told they could find all the supplies listed in Ottilie’s letter. They went to Gringott’s Bank upon being told that wizards have a different currency than Muggles—what non-wizards are apparently called, another term that Ottilie is quite fond of—and that all the shops would only accept the wizard’s currency. The banks, they discovered, was run entirely by goblins. Goblins! Ottilie wanted to ask a million questions, but the creatures didn’t look as if they would much appreciate her curiosity. So, her and her mother—her father had stayed at a small ice cream parlor with her sister, Imogen—exchanged some of their Muggle money for the wizarding currency. Most of the shopping was rather similar to all the school shopping Ottilie had endured up until that point—though much more exciting, as now all of her books and supplies were about or for magic. Purchasing her wand, however, was the most magical thing Ottilie had yet to experience. Her wand came from a shop called Ollivanders, where the shopkeeper, a man named Mr. Ollivander, had told her “The wand chooses the wizard”. She didn’t know what that could possibly mean at that moment, but the longer she was in the shop, the more apparent it became. Ottilie was given several wands and instructed to give them a go by waving or flicking them, and each wand was taken rather fast after it caused some sort of damage to the shop—she had even blown out the front windows with one! Luckily, Mr. Ollivander was able to fix it with a simple wave of his wand, which was the second most interesting part of the visit. The most was when Mr. Ollivander finally gave her the right wand, and a warm breeze seemed to brush through her hair, a tingling sensation tricking up her arm from where she held the wand.
She kept to herself the train ride to the school, reading her books. She almost wished someone had spoken to her, though, so used to the constant companionship of Imogen. The long ride had started to sprout a fear in her mind, that maybe being a Muggle-Born at Hogwarts would always be lonely. She quickly forgot about that fear when they boarded the boats that sailed themselves across the lake and to the school. And now, here she stands, inside the castle—yes, the school was a freaking castle—awaiting what comes next.
She realized she should have been paying much more attention when she heard her name being muttered by the eleven year olds around her who had yet to have their turns being sorted either.
“Ottilie Canvendish!” the Headmaster called, which he seemed to have done at least once before.
She felt heat rush to her face and muttered apologies as she pushed through to the front of the crowd. At the front of the raised platform with the staff table, there was a small stool, atop which sat an old, weathered, pointed hat. Uncertain, Ottilie stepped up onto the platform and made her way to the stool, picking up the hat and placing it atop her head as she sat on the stool. A strange sensation came over her as the hat slipped over her eyes, far too large for her head.
“Well, what have we here?” a strange voice asked, seemingly inside of Ottilie’s head, causing her to jump. The voice chuckled, seemingly inside to read her thoughts as it asked, “Not very good at paying attention, are we? The Headmaster did say I am intelligent.”
I’m being scolded by a hat, Ottilie thought to herself.
“Yes, yes,” the voice answered promptly, “perhaps that will teach you a lesson—though, I don’t believe it will.” The voice hummed to itself, seeming to think something over. “Rather curious, aren’t you? And very eager to learn… yes… Ravenclaw would do you well…”
Ottilie was relieved that she knew what he was talking about, to an extent. The Hogwarts staff that had visited her family to tell her and her parents about the school had explained how the students are split between four houses—Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor—and they are to be like a family while a student is at the school. She asked as many questions as she could, but the only things that really made much sense to her was that each house values a different thing. The Slytherins value cunning and ambition, the Ravenclaws wisdom and creativity. Hufflepuffs tend to be those who are loyal and determined, whilst Gryffindor is home to those who value bravery and chivalry.
“You also posses a great deal of spontaneity,” the voice mused. “You’re protective, mostly of others but also of yourself. You seek answers, you thirst for adventure. Ravenclaw would suit you well… but no… better be…”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
This time, the voice echoed around the entire hall. Cheers erupted, and Ottilie took that as a sign that it was okay for her to remove the hat. She faced the four long tables filled with students, clad in green, yellow, blue, and red. The students in red, the Gryffindors, were all cheering the loudest, the other tables clapping politely.
Ottilie glanced at the Headmaster to make sure she was meant to leave, then skipped off to the table with her fellow Gryffindors. She found a small gap between students toward the front of the table, and hesitated for a long moment before squeezing into the space. The students on either side of her gave her small smiles, and one across the table reached across to give her a high five.
Ottilie grinned as the next student walked up to the hat. Maybe Hogwarts won’t be so lonely after all.
“Ooh, don't go killing all my roses, ‘Cause I've only started growing; Ooh, don't go rain on my parade, I'm just tryna have a good, good day” — Jenna Raine, ‘Roses’
Sorting Ceremony
He had not waited until the bearded old-looking adult gently placed the hat on him - no. His tiny arms raised up, pulled the hat by the hem, and pulled it down."Desmonia Chatura"
If the other boy paid attention to Demo, his grin faltered for a moment as if tasting something sour. Before turning back to him with a sigh, " kay kay kayy, I'll see you later 1395 C ~" he muttered hastily before getting onto the steps himself. Seemingly unbothered by the stares.
Pre-interaction with (as of now: an npc)
Impatient
The imaginary voice in his head was a lot clearer than he thought today. Not to mention he didn't imagine the voice to be in a raspy old crone-like voice
Impatience. Impatience. Impatience. You are buzzing with it and you dont even know where you're running. Or why
Oh. The hat. Its the hat
Yes, it is I. The one that will sort you in a house which will be your next family for the next several years. There are no refunds, and such you know. It is natural to be uneasy for most muggleborns to interact with something imbued with ancient magic. Enough to know whats in your head.
Demo listened on, his eyes darting here and here. His body swinging side to side.
Do you believe moving more would fill something in you that should be there
He stopped moving, his hands instinctively squeezing his knees, clutching even - as if he needed a physical reminder it was still there.
Hm… are you scared?
My… heart is going slightly speedy than usual… I want to grab something warm.. I think so?
Think so?
" YEAH YEAH YEAH! ", he exclaimed out loud, as if the understanding excited him for a split second - not paying attention to any who gave him odd glances. Any trace of embarrassment was absent from his face. Yeah. Anyways theres no point in this is there? I don't like staying here for too long. If you can read my emotions that well could you just hurry hurry hurry and put me wherever that has that emotion the most already
I don't read emotions. Does that disappoint you? You're frowning
Demo hadn't noticed
I see… so that is the case. Regardless, what I do is look into your goals, your wants, your traits. Those information is like a great blaze in your head. So big. So obvious. Well - I might want to put you in Gryffindor for it. A once track mind except….
This eats you up doesn't it? This big blaze is more like an inferno. 'It's me or them', there is no 'maybe' or 'perhaps' - no .. that uncertainty is reserved for another part of you. Not the vision you want to reach. Slytherin thrives in ambition, calculating who will help you to reach your goals. And…. who are the competition. Motivated …though…..
There is an openness to you about learning outside your ambition. A desire to explore what you don't know. Confusion is a constant in your life, and to ease some of it especially when it comes to others pleases you greatly… that is a trait of a Ravenclaw… still.. speaking of others…
Ha…….. others.. others.. others…
You seem to know where I am going with this
It's not something I haven't heard before, hat. No, I don't feel lonely. No, I don't feel envious. No, I don't feel like being around and accepted by people unconditionally helps me feel more fulfilled. I like just being me. I wouldn't change much about it.
How convenient
Yeah!
…..
Honestly the next thing Demo knew, the Hufflepuff table cheered, his eyes following a familiar colour of 7697 C seemingly paying attention to him.7697 C's lips formed a lifted upwards motion and seemingly radiated a little more enthusiastic energy in his movements compared to the surroundings hufflepuffs around him. What was he so happy about?
The ponder of the question was quickly replaced with another. He made room in his mind to mimic some of the cheery faces that greeted him when he came to the table, though evidently forced through the sudden congratulations and welcome.
At the slightest opportunity to have something else occupy his mind, his thoughts wondered on the last few words he heard the sorting hat told him.
….whatever the hell that means.
Need not to limit yourself to 1 form of communication to be understood. You may not think you have the answer, but I believe Hufflepuff will be the place to find the voice in you that so desperately wants to be heard.
Mentioning:
@Erast Yan & NPC
Hanako Tone | Sara Kohana | Kotoka Sako
Sorting Ceremony
Hm...
Well... youre a quiet one.
Not shy exactly. You just ........................dont really see the point in talking unless youve got something worth saying.
You watch people before you trust them. Been doing that for years havent you?
...oh.
Thats a lot lonelier than you let on.
Funny isnt it? Animals didnt expect anything from you, they just... liked you. Thats probably why you like them so much.
Heh. lol
You act like you dont care what people think but thats not really true now is it kid?. You care. You just hate letting anyone know they got under your skin. nerd the hat whisered even though it was talking in his head.
Now anyway! youve got a good head on your shoulders. Ravenclaw wouldnt mind having you. You notice little things other people miss. but ehyou dont seem tat smart.
Slytherin? but Mmm... youve got the caution for it, maybe even the ambition if someone gave you something worth chasing but it doesnt quite fit.
Gryffindor...
You think brave means not being scared. Thats your first mistake.
Cause you are scared. New place. New people. Youre trying not to show it, but I can feel it.
Still... you came anyway.
Huh Not bad.
But none of those feel right you tough one. but
Deep down... more than anything... you just want somewhere that feels like people actually want you there. Somewhere you dont have to prove yourself first.
Youll find that.
Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.
But you will.
Yeah. alright
No question about it.
HUFFLEPUFF!
Well... youre a quiet one.
Not shy exactly. You just ........................dont really see the point in talking unless youve got something worth saying.
You watch people before you trust them. Been doing that for years havent you?
...oh.
Thats a lot lonelier than you let on.
Funny isnt it? Animals didnt expect anything from you, they just... liked you. Thats probably why you like them so much.
Heh. lol
You act like you dont care what people think but thats not really true now is it kid?. You care. You just hate letting anyone know they got under your skin. nerd the hat whisered even though it was talking in his head.
Now anyway! youve got a good head on your shoulders. Ravenclaw wouldnt mind having you. You notice little things other people miss. but ehyou dont seem tat smart.
Slytherin? but Mmm... youve got the caution for it, maybe even the ambition if someone gave you something worth chasing but it doesnt quite fit.
Gryffindor...
You think brave means not being scared. Thats your first mistake.
Cause you are scared. New place. New people. Youre trying not to show it, but I can feel it.
Still... you came anyway.
Huh Not bad.
But none of those feel right you tough one. but
Deep down... more than anything... you just want somewhere that feels like people actually want you there. Somewhere you dont have to prove yourself first.
Youll find that.
Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.
But you will.
Yeah. alright
No question about it.
HUFFLEPUFF!
Sorting Ceremony
Date: 1st September 2026 Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts |
@None :Mentions My first roleplay post on this site! :OOC notes |
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Everything was pretty much as he’d imagined it – high ceiling, and the infamous sky at the very end of it that mirrored exactly what you would see if you walked outside, lined with floating candles – candles he had many times seen used at his own family’s parties and balls. The tables were no less celebratory and decorated: each of them was lined with what looked like very expensive silverware, and empty plates that would later tonight fill up with a feast not many had ever witnessed in their lives. Above each of the long tables, densely seated with older students, hung four banners, each in its house’s colors and bearing a proud-looking emblem.
As he walked, the boy’s eyes traveled to the Slytherin table, where a couple of decades ago his own father and mother had sat, and where he assumed he would later be joining the students tonight. Ambrose failed to remember any family members who hadn’t been proud Slytherins, who hadn’t coaxed him on what a glorious and noble house it was. Throughout his life he’d solemnly thought about what would happen if he were sorted into any house other than Slytherin, and he’d come to the conclusion that no matter how angry or disappointed his parents would be, it would still bring a much-needed change to the old-fashioned Donnovan family’s beliefs.
The huddle of first-year students came to a jolting stop, and soon, over the slight commotion of nervous newcomers and restless long-timers, there came a deep, loud, authoritative voice – the headmaster. The tall, imposing man gave a welcoming speech to all who listened, though that unfortunately did not include Ambrose, as his mind and gaze were wandering. While the headmaster talked and the hat sang, his thoughts drifted to the castle’s dormitories, which after a long day sounded as good as ever, along with a book to read and a heater at the head of the bed Ambrose would have hoped for the house-elves to prepare. For now, though, he was stuck here, suffocated by the proximity of the small crowd of first years, in the very middle of which he had somehow, regrettably, managed to squeeze himself.
Then came the calls up to the seat. Ambrose was one of the first, and he did not mind. He was confident in the turnout of the evening’s events. He’d heard of this process many times before. He pushed through the crowded eleven-year-olds, shooting an annoyed look at any who glanced up at him, and approached the tabouret with the hat placed on top of it. Up close, the hat looked even older and more hideous, but it was a sacred thing, and from the many things the boy had read about it in Hogwarts history books, he had developed a quiet intrigue for the unlovely-looking thing. He sat down on the chair and allowed the hat to be placed upon his black curls.
“What do we have here… Ah! Donnovan, is it? Well, well… I remember your parents. What a couple of entitled bastards they were,” the hat began its trawling of the mind in a biting, unpleasant observation. Ambrose let it pass, partly because it was true, and kept listening. Despite its harsh tone, there was an honesty to its words that made its observations compelling. “And you, boy” – the last word sounded like it was spat out of its mouth, if it were to have one – “you’re different from them… I see that. You have an extraordinary future ahead of you, but for fate to have its way, I have to allow it. Therefore, I put you in… Gryffindor!” the thing exclaimed in an ear-piercing yelp.
Ambrose made his way to the applauding Gryffindor table. The hat’s words kept ringing in his mind as time seemed to slow down, and every moment of the walk from the tabouret to his place at the table felt drenched in misery. Oh dear goodness, what will Father say about this? was the thought dominating his mind at that moment. His hands, clammy with nervousness, clenched those extended to him, and for the ones he missed, he hoped they would put it down to his nerves.
Tonight certainly marked a new beginning to Donnovan’s legacy, and he was partly nervous and partly excited to see what it would bring upon him. Of course, the only things that would come upon him the next morning were angry letters from his parents or, god forbid, a howler. But the future was intriguing, something worth sticking around for.
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