Newcomers The Sorting ceremony 2017-2018 Closed

Clad in black first-year robes that were just a tad too big for her frame, Marjorie remained confident as ever as she stood among all of the other Hogwarts newcomers that eagerly awaited to be assigned to one of the four houses. The young girl had been told stories about the sorting ceremony for many years prior to this exact moment. There was not a single member of the Highvale dynasty that had been sorted into any house other than Slytherin. It was her destiny, or so she thought, to be sorted into the house of Salazar that had served her family well in their time at Hogwarts for many generations. She kept her head held high above the crowd around her as best she could. If one were to describe her attitude towards the proceedings, it would be that of indifference. When what she perceived to be weak-minded individuals were sorted into Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, she glanced to the nearest person and let loose a sly remark and a small laugh. There were so many new students and sorting through all of them was certainly a daunting task. She wondered how the sorting hat never got tired of performing his duties so ardently. In fact, Marjorie was focused on just about everything else going on in the Great Hall than the proceedings at hand. Her last name was H, right in the middle of the pack, and she knew that if she was to survive this ceremony she would need to distract herself lest she die from boredom in front of the entire school.

Name after name was called. A student would be called to the front of the stage, the raggedy hat placed on their head, it would taunt them for a moment or two and then shout them off into the direction of where they belonged to the applause of everyone else who belonged to that house. She was caught up in idle conversation with those around her. She was particularly guilty of zoning out as well, finding herself lost in whatever thoughts occupied her mind. Probably about how uncomfortable the clothes she was wearing was, or how she was wearing the same clothes as everyone around her. Unanimity, now that disgusted her.

"MARJORIE ANNE HIGHVALE!"

The sound of her name brought the elven year old back into reality. Those she had made small talk with as she stood waiting smiled to her and with as much confidence that a young girl of her upbringing could bolster (which was a ton), she climbed the steps to the stage and gave the man leading the ceremony a smile before sitting down onto the wooden chair as thousands of wizards and witches had done before her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she sat in the chair. Her back was pressed fully against it, and the faintest of smiles tugged at her lips as she looked out across the Great Hall. Everyone was else was staring back. She was at the center of attention and she loved every moment of it.

Before long, the old brown sorting hat was placed onto her head. She sat still as it taunted her aloud in front of all of Hogwarts.

"Another Highvale? How many of them are you?" the hat asked rhetorically. "SLYTHERIN!"

It was almost a no-brainer. In fact, Marjorie was shocked with just how long the hat took to make its decision. A resounding five seconds. As Slytherin echoed off the walls of the Great Hall, accompanied by the cheers of old and new Slytherin alike from the young men and women clad in green and black, an overwhelming sense of pride swelled inside of the young girl's chest. For the first time since she had been at Hogwarts she smiled. It was a smile like none had ever seen, her lips stretching as far wide as they could possibly go. A smile of pure joy, a sense of accomplishment and finally, belonging to something that was bigger than her family's legacy. The real world was starting for her.

As she stood to boisterous cheer and clapping, her eyes scanned the table of current Slytherins for her brother who was five years her elder. Descending from the stage to join other Slytherin newcomers at the table, she found him. A thumbs up and a smile were her two reward but it was enough. She cast him a smile before taking a seat with the rest of the first year Slytherins, instantly mingling and turning her attention to the next Hogwarts newcomer whose destiny would be decided before all of the school to see.

Rose knew how to behave during ceremonies (her mother's long, dry brunches taught her how to best behave during events), but she could hardly contain herself while the hat called Highvale's house. She wanted desperately to sit where her father once sat, and make him proud by being sorted into his house. Rose already knew how she looked in Slytherin emerald from when she tried on his old school robes, but she could hardly stand being dressed in all black any longer. Call my name already! She thought, impatiently. If anybody was to be sorted into Merlin's former house, it would certainly be her.

When at last Marjorie whats-it finally got off the stool Rose dubbed her rightful (but temporary) throne just half an hour ago, she nearly sprung out of her seat. "ROSE BERKSHIRE!" Rang throughout the Great Hall, and Rose stood up proudly. She lifted her chin, smoothed out her fine black robes, and strode to the front of the room. In a gentle flourish of expensive black fabric, she took her seat just as she'd rehearsed at her golden vanity at home. It was finally coronation day.

The weight of the hat on Rose's head was greater than she expected, so she tilted her head back a bit to keep it from falling over her eyes. After a brief moment of silence, the hat chuckled, low and long. It was clear it knew exactly who it was dealing with. Rose was no Malfoy, but her blood was just as old.

"You know exactly where you belong," The hat mused.

Rose gave the hat a small nod, faded photographs of her father in her head.

"Well, if you're sure..." The hat sighed. "SLYTHERIN!"

Rose grinned as the hat was taken off her head. She stood up, reminded herself to put her shoulders back, and took her rightful place at Slytherin's table.

Finally, Moringa had stepped into the famed Great Hall of Hogwarts. After the long and boring train journey spent sitting across an exceedingly quiet girl who avoided all her attempts of conversation, she didn't think she could stand being awake another second, but when she got on the boat that would transport her and the other newcomers across the lake and to Hogwarts her excitement was renewed and exhaustion forgotten. The mere sight of the castle got her brain working overtime, trying to imagine exactly how the classrooms and the dormitories would look and having only her parent's stories to rely on. 
Now, finally inside the Great Hall, she lined up with the other first years to prepare for the sorting ceremony. With the headmaster's introductory speech over, names started being called out and excited students would step up to the hat and get sorted fairly quickly.
Suddenly, her name was called, and Moringa was jolted out of her convoluted train of thought to be put on the stool and under the sorting hat. 
"Ah, Ms. Pulver! I remember your father well... and, of course, your mother! Mabel, was it?"; unsure if she should reply or not, Moringa kept oddly quiet. 
"As I understand it, there's quite the streak of Slytherins in your family... but everything has its exceptions. You're not quite as cunning as a Slytherin, are you? You're certainly smart, but Ravenclaw isn't your fate either...", Moringa squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation. "There's some nerve in you, Ms. Pulver.". 
Nerve? What could he be possibly talking about? Moringa certainly didn't think nerve was her strongest suit--"GRYFFINDOR!", the hat shouted. 
And so Gryffindor it was.

The anticipation of it was making her sick. The adrenaline, coursing through her veins and feeling like ice, expelling itself in the form of sweat and a tapping foot. Of course it had started the moment Coriander had gotten her letter, but since then, it had just gotten worse. Sleepless nights thinking about Hogwarts and what house she may be in, progressing to an almost tangible feeling of impatience. On the train, it had finally become so intense that it hurt. To say that Coriander couldn't wait to be sorted was an understatement. Distantly she wondered if those around her felt the same way, or if there was something wrong with her.

Finally, Coriander was called up. She stumbled a bit on her way to the stool, but didn't care. She'd been waiting for this for ages, since her last birthday, and now she was mere moments away from joining her house. When the sorting hat touched her head, Coriander instinctively held her breath, waiting for what it had to say.

"I see mischief, but what is it hiding? A need to prove oneself, perhaps..." Coriander hoped that nobody else could hear what the hat had to say. She couldn't tell, with it being so loud in her ear. Besides, it was happening so fast that she hardly had time to feel any nerves. "You'll work hard on what you think is right, that much is for certain... I think you'd do well in -

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted, causing Coriander to jump.

What? Was Coriander's first thought. Hufflepuff was not what she expected. This wasn't the right time to reflect, though. There were plenty of others waiting to be sorted, so she was forced to walk over to the Hufflepuff table, where many were waiting with wide smiles. It wasn't that Hufflepuff was a bad house, just... unexpected. Whatever, Coriander would deal.

I had just recently found out my families secret that I was wizard born. How they had kept such a thing for me for 11 years, I don't know, but today was the day that I was joining Hogwarts. I still didn't believe any of this was actually happening. The letter must've been some cruel joke by my family, I thought. When I arrived in the Great Hall, I was speechless. It was big and beautiful. The Great Hall made everything sink in, and for the first time, I finally believed what was happening.

As I sat awaiting my house, all I could hope for was Ravenclaw. My parents were Ravenclaw. I wanted to be just like them even if they had lied to me about who I really was my whole life. "Ah, Manderlot. Ravenclaw runs in the family, but Ravenclaw seems like the wrong fit." I was disappointed but I was told there is no protesting the hat. "I see strength, intellectual strength. Slytherin? Oh no, too kind for Slytherin." The waiting was killing me. Where was I going to end up?

"Gryffindor!" The sorting hat had put me in Gryffindor? Why? I am not strong, or powerful. Maybe the sorting hat see's something in me that I am too young to see.

Wow! Charles gazed around the Great Hall as the first years were led to a simple stool, atop it, a dusty hat sat its pointy top drooping as if it were asleep. Candles glittered against the contrasting dark sky that hung in the Great Hall, obscuring the ceiling with a stormy night. The students that sat along the long tables looked expectantly towards the stool. Charles had no idea what was going on, so naturally he stood there and just soaked in the experience. The warm atmosphere, the jumbled noises of hundreds of conversations, the whispers around him that he could just pick out of the air.
“My cousin is in Slytherin, but his brother got put in Hufflepuff...”
“What if the Sorting Hat says I can't be here...”

Hufflepuff? A couple moments of this passed before everyone was quieted. A scroll was read, one by one the first years were sorted into their houses. There were cheers, there were laughs, and more than a couple gasps. Charles began to worry, he hadn't the faintest clue as to what houses were the best ones, if there even was a 'better house'. Was it possible to be put into the wrong house? For seven years he would have to be put into a place he didn't belong, but then all of a sudden.

“Charles Moore!”

His body began moving of its own accord. His new dress shoes clicked against the stone floor.
Charles' mind began to race
I should turn and run
Click!
Was this a dream?
Click!
Surely if it was I would've woken up by now.
Click!
Only a few steps away, what will they do when the Sorting Hat doesn't say anything?
Click!
Why is it so quiet!
Click!

And just before he reached the plain, weathered wooded stool, the boy's mind calmed. A smile grew across his face. Charles didn't worry, Charles never worried! This is where he was meant to be, he decided it. Whatever house he was sorted into, didn't matter, the boy was gonna make the best of this. The Great Hall snapped back into focus as the boy made his choice.

Charles sat on the stool.
The hat sat on Charles.

"Hmm, a Muggle-Born. Charles is it? Yes, Charles Moore, I see... optimism in you, an unbreakable will. Very good yes. You would not do well in Ravenclaw, not that it isn't a bad thing, you're just a little too gullible. It takes a skeptic mind to be sorted into Ravenclaw. You wouldn't do well as a Slytherin either, you're a naive boy. I see some traits that are similar with that of Gryffindor, but that isn't your best choice either. Fiercely loyal to your family and friends; doing everything you can to help your mother and sister no matter how hard the task seems. How about..."

“Hufflepuff!!”

The Hufflepuff table erupted into applause, Charles beamed as he looked at his second home. The hat was lifted from his head, and he scampered down to meet his second family.

Elrich followed the crowd of first years into the Great Hall. He looked around; some were nervous, some seemingly ecstatic. He did not really care. He had already narrowed down his potential houses to two: the houses that his parents had been in, which he had been practically groomed to be in. Slytherin, the house of his father and the house of ambition. His father had always said that it was that day in which he was sorted that set him up for all of his future success. His mother, a Ravenclaw, spoke little of her time at Hogwarts, but Elrich imagined he would do well given the way he spent his entire life buried in studies.

The makeshift line that the first years had formed began to shorten, and it neared Elrich’s turn. One by one the people ahead him were sorted, mostly into houses they seemed content with. When it came his turn, he was overcome with anxiety that he could not explain. He cautiously walked up and donned the hat.

“Ah a Schultz, I can see your father’s ambition and your mother’s thirst for knowledge inside of you. But there is something else there, as well. Surely not a Hufflepuff, but also not quite a Ravenclaw, even with your quest for information”. Elrich was okay with this, as to him this simply meant that he would be joining the leagues of his father’s house.

“You have the ambition of a Slytherin like your father, that is for sure. But you lack cunning, and I can sense things in you that neither of your parents have, something that drives you and will shape the person you will become now that you are outside of their influences. Yes, it is clear. Gryffindor!”

Gryffindor? How was that possible? All he had ever heard about them from his parents was that they were irrational, arrogant, and dimwitted. And yet this was the house he was to spend the next seven years with? Impossible! But he knew protesting the judgment of the Sorting Hat was futile. As the Gryffindor table greeted him with applause, he indignantly walked toward it with empty, confused eyes and took his seat. For one of the first times in his life, he had been left completely dumbfounded.

Valley's neck ached from all the swiveling it was doing, trying to catch every detail of the Great Hall. He couldn't help it -- everything was so big! So bright! So grand! The floating candles, the long benches, the charmed ceiling...he hadn't known quite what to expect from a school of magic, but now he couldn't imagine anything else. It all seemed so perfect.

"I wonder what they do when it rains," he muttered to himself, eyes flicking to the ceiling. Maybe some sort of force field...type...thing?

Someone was speaking about houses. Valley was only vaguely listening, though he tuned in at the end long enough to hear the guy say, "No questions? Okay...I propose you listen to the song of the Sorting Hat."

Valley had a lot of questions, actually, but it was sort of his own fault for getting distracted, so whatever. He stood on his tiptoes to peer around the shoulder of the person in front of him -- being short was annoying sometimes -- and caught a glimpse of an old, beaten-up looking witches hat. Folds in the fabric gave the impression of an old, self-satisfied face. Then the mouth fold of the fabric opened.

Valley gasped. "Needle and thread, it really does sing!"

Someone laughed at him quietly, but he was too busy paying attention to try and figure out who it was. The song was mostly about those houses from before -- Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin -- and a little bit about the founders of Hogwarts, after which the houses were apparently named. He was glad to have gotten a better explanation of the houses, if that's where he'd be staying during school months for the next seven years.

Names were called and one by one the pack of kids around him walked up to the hat to be sorted. He tried to pay attention to their faces, but gave up after the first few and instead let the odd sense of timelessness the Great Hall gave off wash over him. He wondered what Reuben was thinking about right now...

"Nathair, Valley!"

Valley's shoulders jumped. He shook off the startle and hopped on up to the stool, facing the rest of the to-be-sorted kids. Some of them looked nervous, so he gave a quick grin before the hat dropped down over his eyes.

"Hmm," said a low voice. "Yes, yes...interesting mind here, Mr. Nathair. Very interesting indeed. Loyal, aren't you? Goodness, yes. You'd break every bone in your body for a friend. But not much the diligent worker."

Valley opened his mouth to argue, offended, but the hat cut him off.

"Hard worker, certainly, but diligent? I think not," it huffed. "Moving on...brave? Hm. To be who you are despite the negative reactions of those around you...that is bravery, yes. A strong regard for fairness, and...oh. Well, I suppose belief in retribution counts as justice of a sort. I see now. Of course, of course. Better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Polite applause came from all the tables as it had for all those sorted before him, but was especially raucous from the end table dressed in reds. Valley plucked the hat off and placed it back onto the stool, feeling dazed, and set off in that direction.

He smiled as other recently sorted first years shifted easily to make room for him. It looked like he'd found his place.

The moment she had stepped foot into the Great Hall, it seemed as if time stood still. All noise had been drowned out, everything stilled in its place, even Rachael herself was planted firm in her spot near the door. Nothing about Hogwarts had felt as palpable to her as it did now, and yet she had never seen anything more surreal. Every aspect of the school was extraordinary and almost ostentatious in its display.

Floating candles, talking paintings, tables that went on for miles piled with endless amounts of food. It was all she had ever dreamed it to be. This was where she belonged.

After that fleeting moment of clarity, the world continued on at full speed. Students cheered, clambering over each other in their excitement. Rachael could only watch in thrilled silence, taking in her surroundings as much as she could- committing it all to her memory. Today marked the start of her life in one of the four houses. She had read up on them as much as she could on the ride over, well she had actually tried to read up on everything about the magical world until her eyes started to hurt. Being muggle-born, she hadn't known anything at all about what she was getting into, so she set off to fix that issue herself.

She had debated for hours regarding which house she thought she fit in with the most comfortably, and when she couldn't conjure a good enough answer, she began wondering which she had wanted to fit in with. Again, she came up empty handed. How could she not, though? They all seemed so intriguing.

Not even when she was sat in front of the student body, head weighed down by the aged hat on top of it, had she been able to form a solid opinion on where she would ultimately be sorted. It seemed the hat realized as much.

"A new muggle-born, are you? Not a common sight at Hogwarts, no... Nor do you have a clear head about you, it seems." It chuckled disdainfully. "Yes... Morbidly curious, and a bit of a cunning air about you. Ravenclaw or even Slytherin would do, but somehow that doesn't feel right."

This was taking an odd turn, out of all four, she had been fairly certain it would be one of those two she would ultimately end up in. Rationally speaking, anyways. What else did it see in her that made a different answer evident?

"I've seen kids like you come in here before, versatile with many contradicting traits, but one thing always stands out. That fierce heart, full of wonder and a need to achieve more. I know exactly what to do with you. Better be... Gryffindor!" Without even a moments notice, the table adorned in red and gold roared proudly.

It hadn't made sense to her then, but even she couldn't argue with the sorting hat. There was a strange warmth that consumed her as she took a seat among her fellow peers, and that was when she knew. She had always been destined to be a Gryffindor.