Sorting Ceremony 2025 - 2026

Lions Are Cool, I Guess

Date: September 1st, 2025
Time: Evening

“GRYFFINDOR!” exclaimed the hat, no sooner than it was placed on G.’s head.

Gryffindor. G. had heard that one before. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. He’d been trying to get the names straight ever since he overheard the kids talking on the train earlier. So much excitement, nervousness, and even fear about which house they’d get placed in. Was it really that big of a deal?

“Best to keep yourself and your housemates out of trouble, but I know you won’t,” the hat grinned and winked its eye folds.

G.’s mind was split across many sensations as he sat in that chair in the Great Hall in front of Headmaster Solomon and hundreds of students cheering. He glanced around the room and saw the hundreds of floating candles bobbing gently in the air and the animated paintings on the wall. Were people in paintings actually sentient, or just running a program due to the magic that created them? Most of all, he noticed the overwhelming smell of delicious cooked meats, breads, and desserts. G. had never been to a meal so fancy in his life.

Among the countless applauding students in the room, those at one table were cheering much louder than the others—his new house. G. thought about the fact that Gryffindor was supposed to represent bravery and chivalry, and wondered if those in its house would be pompous. G. hoped he himself wouldn’t get a big head about it. But apparently, the house symbol was a lion, and hey, lions are cool.

“Thank you,” G. said, acknowledging the hat and then the headmaster, then sat down with the rest of the bright-eyed students at the Gryffindor table.

«✴ Sorting hat✴»

When I entered the Great Hall, I looked around and felt all the magic. I looked at each table in each house and started thinking, "What if I'm not good for any house, or maybe I'm in a house that doesn't fit?" For example, I don't think I'm as brave as all the Gryffindors who have been there before, like Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

They called one by one. I heard the name Alex Adams and clapped a lot, but when I heard Gryffindor, I got scared. What if we weren't together? What would I do? They called me next, full of nerves. I went up to the Sorting Hat to choose my house. It thought and thought a lot until it shouted very loudly, "Ravenclaw!" At first, I was happy because I thought it was the one I belonged in, but then I thought, "I'm without my best friend!" Luckily, when they called Harry Adams (Alex's brother), the hat said Ravenclaw. I felt more relieved because I was going to have a friend with me in Ravenclaw.

In the end, you don't need to be so worried because I love my home, Ravenclaw, where I've settled in very well and easily, and Alex and I talk a lot and are the best friends forever.

Entering the great hall together with all the other first years, my eyes sparkle with excitement. Already there was soo much to see!

My gaze wanders over the four house tables, feeling the older students muster us. I take in the house banners that were hung up as decoration. My gaze gradually wanders up, looking up at the flying candles, wondering how the wax hasn't hurt anyone yet, wandering further up the enchanted ceiling.

Of course I've already read all about it, but seeing it in person was a totally different experience. The dark night sky basically stretched over us, hundreds and hundreds of stars sparkling in it. I get so absorbed in the enchanted ceiling I don't notice us reaching the front where a teacher was waiting for us with the sorting hat. I stumble into the boy in front of me. Bashfully I mumble Sorry... Didn't pay attention.

Luckily he seemed to be way to absorbed in what is about to happen. So I concentrated on my own sorting. According to my mother our family was presented in all houses but Slytherin over the decades. Therefore I didn't have the pressure to end up in a specific house like I knew some of my classmates would have.

So when I was finally sorted into Ravenclaw I was just happy to head for my table. I found a place and kept watching the sorting with interest, clapping along the others when a new student was sorted. My gaze occasionally kept returning to the enchanted ceiling where the stars kept sparkling.

⠀ II. You’re home free as soon as no one knows where to find you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ But they all knew. They all knew where to find him. The horrors that haunted his nightmares had come here. He felt them – their distant shadows watching from the corner of his eye, but when he turned, nothing was there. Some mimicked his resting family members, but something about them was off, not quite familiar. They brought sorrow, agony, and anxiety as he walked up the steps to the podium. They whispered curses in his ear, and he answered with prayers. At least they wouldn’t attack now – not in the presence of others, anyway. They preferred solitude and loneliness; they fed on it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He had hoped Hogwarts would offer him an escape from his waking nightmares, but they remained. He was doomed. Now he stood on the stage, his hands sweating – disgustingly so. Papa would have told him to wash them, but there was no sink. His mind wandered to the idea of draining his clammy hands in the teachers’ goblets at their table. Disgusting. Who even thinks that? came a self-deprecating thought immediately after.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Everyone watched. He felt constant stares and eyes on him as he climbed the steps to the platform where the Sorting Hat sat on an old chair, looking scrappy and worn. But it had never even been worn, so was it age that made it look so pathetic, or madness – visions no one else saw, a concept that made Sebastien shiver for his future. The Great Hall was packed with students, from peeply-looking first years, whose gazes darted around – some nervously, some excitedly – to the older students, taller than most, with the seventh years especially standing out, Sebastien felt himself shrink as he walked past them upon entering the hall. He wanted to go unnoticed under their seemingly judgmental stares. Then there were the teachers: some intimidating, others looking as if they handed out “Outstanding” grades for free. The many faces blurred in his vision as he tried to distract himself, focusing only on where he was heading. Nothing special – just the thing that would decide how the next seven years of his life would unfold, who his “family” here in Hogwarts would be, who he would be bound to forever. He’d thought about it before. What made someone a Slytherin, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, or a Gryffindor? Was it something inside them – whether their heart burned with glory and pride, or wisdom and determination? Or was it the way they spoke and presented themselves – kind and humble, or brave and daring? To be honest, none of the houses called his name. The gut feeling that usually guided him had vanished, shamelessly abandoning him in the face of danger. What was he supposed to do now, other than go into the sorting blindly? No guesses, no tingling at his fingertips or earlobes. He was weaponless, and that was what made it all so frightening. His unsteady feet carried him to a chair, upon which lay the Sorting Hat.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He almost unconsciously did everything the other students had done before him. His mind was too preoccupied with anxiety and paranoia for him to fully comprehend whether he was even doing everything right. He felt a force sit him down in the screechy old wooden chair, and he put the hat on his head. It plopped down on his golden curls, still far too big for his eleven-year-old head, and half his view of the Great Hall was hidden by the brim, his ears pressed close to his head by the sides of the hat. It made him relax slightly, though his hands still fidgeted nervously with the hem of his uniform. Though his face remained cold and stoic, inside he was burning up and cooling down; nothing lasted longer than a few seconds – not heat, not cool, not doubt, not truth. Everything felt like a massive storm brewing above his head, about to pour rain by the bucketful, as his stress mounted while the hat seemed unwilling to make its presence known at all. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to the boy – but was probably only a second after he sat down – the hat spoke. A screechy, old, annoying voice brought no comfort to the nervous first-year now sitting in the chair, doing his best to appear collected. Its voice echoed in his head as it declared, “Such a peculiar, disturbed child you are. Distant, gloomy, and sullen, like a ghost,” it said, in what felt like a laughing tone. Laughing at him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Can such a hopeless child like you ever truly find your place here… of course you can!” The hat murmured incoherent sentences into his ear, almost like his own scattered thoughts that made people fall silent. “You’re intelligent… but far too reckless for Ravenclaw,” it spat, as if – who could have ever thought this child belonged in Ravenclaw? “You’re loyal, but oh, much too selfish for Hufflepuff,” the hat said again. Sebastien wanted it to stop. Everything it said stung his chest, yet deep down he knew it was all true. Not just because of the hat’s recognized fact that it sorted every student into their house – it knew every student better than anyone else, even their own family. And he had never believed that. But here it was. This hat was listing all his deepest insecurities, parts of himself he had tried to erase forever, not just for others, but for himself too. The things the hat said made him feel guilty – a sinner. “You’re courageous, brave – not when you’re shaking in your boots, like you are now, but when you know what’s to come… yet most of all, I see your ambition, your cunning, your determination!” He thanked the hat. It had basically told him the house he would be sorted into before announcing it to everyone. He had a moment to collect himself, to prepare for the overwhelming cheers and clapping from the green-decorated table. Then it came – the ear-splitting, glass-shattering yelp: “Slytherin!” it screamed. The boy quickly took the hat off and set it carefully back on the chair. As he expected, the Slytherin table to his far right erupted in cheers. Forcing a smile onto his lips, he hurried to the table, not wanting to hold up the line of first years waiting to be sorted. He slid into an empty seat in a quieter corner of the table, after shaking hands with each prefect and some older students who greeted him kindly. He rested his chin on his knuckles and watched the ceremony in silence. Though his gaze was unfocused, it often drifted dreamily to the ghosts wandering around the hall and to the tingling sensations the old stone walls stirred in him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ They sat around him at the table – in the spaces between students’ shoulders, in the gaps that seemed empty but were dense with energy: dread. He saw the shadows slowly curling at the corners of his eyes. Not like ghosts – darker, otherworldly. Who knew if they were mortal; the question wasn’t which god they belonged to, but what they wanted. Him… His sight?

Headmaster Solomon Lear lifted the scroll in his hands, letting his voice ring out across the Great Hall.

“Stargaze Lyra!”

Lyra stood up straight, her fingers brushing her robes to smooth them out. She stepped out of the line, her shoes making soft clicking sounds against the stone floor. A few students whispered as she walked past them.

“Good luck,” a boy with messy brown hair nearby said quietly.

Lyra gave a small smile. “Thank you.”

As she walked toward the stool, she looked around at the floating candles and the enchanted ceiling that looked just like the night sky. Instead of feeling scared, she felt surprisingly calm. Big moments usually made her feel steady instead of nervous.

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. The old leather felt heavy, and the brim slipped down over her eyes, blocking out the room and leaving her in a world of whispers.

“A loyal heart… very loyal. And such a neat, thoughtful mind…” the Hat whispered.

Lyra listened quietly, her thoughts simple and honest. I just want to do my best and help out when I can...

“No doubt about that,” the Hat replied. “Better be… HUFFLEPUFF!”

The entire Great Hall cheered and was really excited. Lyra as she took a steadying breath as the Hat was lifted from her head, rising from the stool with a small, graceful nod of thanks. As she made her way toward the Hufflepuff table, the atmosphere seemed to shift as the air became warmer and carried the cozy, delicious scent of sweet apple cider. When she arrived at the table, she was greeted by the yellow-trimmed robes and a chorus of bright, welcoming smiles and lively cheers from her new housemates. Now, Lyra truly belonged with Hufflepuffs, she's loyal as well as hard working, just like her housemates.

Sorting Ceremony.

242

dialogue #84774d #006400

@solo

As soon as the first year entered the Great Hall, chatters and stares greeted them almost immediately. Some were smiling with hopeful look, some were curious as they watch them walk to the front of the hall, waiting to be sort to their own house. Alex look around the hall amusedly. The candles floats around above him as he walk, the ceilings were cloudlike from where he stood; magic sure is fascinating.

Names after names were called to the front to be sort by a sorting hat that speaks.'That's amazing', he thought to himself. When his name were called, "Kavanagh, Alex!" He walk up the podium with a weird nervous feelings in his chest as he knew that there'll be many eyes focus on him as soon as he sit on the worn stool. He doesn't like to be in the spotlight though he knew this ceremony is important for him. The hat were immediately place on his head as he settles on the stool with fidgety hands, out of habit.

"Ah, quite difficult one, aren't you?" The hat mutter and Alex could hear his heart thumping loudly against his chest. "Hm.. ambitious, intelligent and cunning.. must be.. Slytherin!!" cheers erupted from the serpent long table. Alex walk down from the podium to the table with relief. Some of the senior students greet him as he sit at an empty spot on the table, he smile softly at the warm welcome.

After waiting for so long, she finally heard name being announced to by the Headmaster. Millie slowly stand up, noticing all pair of eyes now gawking at her as she constantly fasten up her pace to the front. Looking at the Headmaster who gave a soft, reassuring smile at her, Millie take a deep breath and took a seat while a worn out pointed hat take a place at the top of her head.

"Careful, Child. I might be worn out but my intelligence and perceptiveness has not changed since the day I was created."

Hearing that, Millie almost jumped out of her stool. But remembering the previous session that the hat always talk like that to another students, she composed herself and shifted to the comfortable position at her seat.

"Alright, let us begin," the hat spoke again, humming like it thinking something so seriously. "There is a unique trait in you ... hm. Oh, yes, yes, undoubtly so."

Millie confusedly wait. Not sure if she must pondered which one she wanted most since she thought if all the four houses is equally good. However, for sure, if she can choose, she want the one she can most feel accepted. Where she can be herself without worrying about another judging, wicked eyes.

Sensed her anxiousness, the hat spoke again, this time with more softened voices, "Worry not, Child. In here, whatever house you got, it will become your second family. That is why, it is my job to directed you to your right place."

Millie sighed, nod her head, and thanked the hat inwardly.

A moment silent, the hat hummed by itself again, busy with its judgment, then it finally rise its voice as it said, "RAVENCLAW!"

As the hat announced it, the rows of tables were filled with blue cheering enthusiastically, like Millie just winning something so grandeur and they are her supporters. After the hat being took off from her head, Millie slowly stood from the stool and instinctively walked to the rows of tables that still cheering on her, welcoming her with that warm cheer and wave hands. Millie still looked confuse by all of that happened, but without doubt, she can feel the relieved soother her mind and her thumping heart.

_{Dusk time, Friday, 15 May 2026
Millie Ann}

Amber followed the other first years through the castle corridors, trying not to stare too obviously at everything around her. The stone walls seemed endless, lined with moving portraits that watched them pass with open curiosity. Somewhere nearby she could hear ghosts arguing loudly with each other, and every few seconds another group of older students rushed past laughing like all of this was completely normal.

Her grip tightened around her copy of Hogwarts, A History.

She had spent almost the entire train ride reading it, hoping that if she memorised enough information, maybe she would not stand out so much. But the more she learned about the wizarding world, the more she realised how little she actually knew.

The girls she’d met on the train had explained the houses to her in great detail.

“Gryffindors are brave.”

“Hufflepuffs are loyal.”

“Ravenclaws are clever.”

“And Slytherins…” One of the girls had lowered her voice dramatically. “Well. Most dark wizards came from there.”

The others had nodded immediately.

Amber remembered staying quiet after that, looking out at the rain racing down the train window. The way they spoke about Slytherin felt strange to her. Too rehearsed. Like they had all been taught the same opinion before even meeting anyone from the house.

Surely an entire house could not just be evil.

As they walked, she found herself thinking about where she might end up.

Gryffindor did not feel right. She admired brave people, but bravery had never come naturally to her. Even now her stomach twisted nervously from simply being surrounded by so many people.

Hufflepuff seemed kinder. Safer, maybe. But she was not sure she was warm enough for it. She liked people, just… in smaller amounts. Most of the time she preferred books, music, sketching quietly by herself.

Ravenclaw made the most sense. She liked learning things. Analysing them. Understanding how and why people worked the way they did. Even as everyone around her judged Slytherin immediately, part of her kept wondering if there was more to it than that.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because a small part of her understood Slytherin too.

Not the dark wizard part, she doubted that was written into people from birth, but the ambition. The need to prove yourself. To be more than what others expected. She knew what it felt like to be underestimated before anyone even knew her properly.

The giant oak doors suddenly opened before them.

Amber stopped walking completely.

The Great Hall stretched out before her, glowing gold under thousands of floating candles. Four long tables filled the room, crowded with students talking loudly over each other while ghosts drifted lazily between them. Above everything, the enchanted ceiling mirrored the dark night sky perfectly, scattered with stars.

It was beautiful in a way that almost hurt to look at.

The room felt alive.

A nervous excitement spread through her chest as she stepped inside slowly, hearing hundreds of voices echo around the hall. Some older students were already staring curiously at the first years entering. Others barely looked up from their conversations.

At the very front of the room sat an old, patched hat on a wooden stool.

The Sorting Hat.

Amber swallowed nervously.

For a strange moment, she wondered if the hat would see things about her that even she did not fully understand yet.

One by one, names were called as students stumbled forward to sit beneath the hat. Every few seconds the hall would erupt into applause as another first year was sorted.

Amber barely heard any of them.

Her heart pounded harder with every name.

“Allen, Amber”

She almost missed it entirely.

For a second her legs refused to move, but then she forced herself forward through the sea of staring faces. Hundreds of eyes followed her as she sat carefully on the stool, her hands gripping the edge tightly enough to hurt.

The Sorting Hat dropped over her eyes, covering the hall in darkness.

A quiet voice spoke almost immediately inside her head.

“Hm. Interesting.”

Amber froze.

“Nervous, certainly. Very nervous. But thoughtful too. You observe before you act. You question things others accept immediately.”

Her stomach twisted.

“Well, that’s understandable,” the Hat continued calmly. “New world. New people. And yet you are already trying to understand them instead of fear them.”

Amber’s mind flashed unwillingly to the conversation on the train about Slytherin.

The Hat seemed amused.

“Yes. You noticed that, didn’t you? Clever girl. Most children arrive here already convinced they know what each house means.”

Amber stayed perfectly still.

“You would do well in Ravenclaw,” the Hat mused. “You enjoy learning. You think deeply. You analyse everything around you.”

A small flicker of relief sparked in her chest.

“But there’s more than that.”

The voice grew quieter somehow.

“There is ambition in you too. Not loud ambition. Not arrogance. But determination. A need to prove yourself. To become someone important on your own terms.”

Amber’s throat tightened slightly.

“You understand what it feels like to be underestimated. Misunderstood before anyone truly knows you.” The Hat paused. “And despite what others may believe… you do not judge so easily yourself.”

The hall outside felt impossibly silent.

Amber suddenly realised what the Hat was about to say before it even said it.

“Better be…”

Her pulse raced.

“…SLYTHERIN!”

The hall exploded into applause from the table draped in green and silver.

Amber pulled the hat off quickly, her thoughts spinning so fast she could barely breathe properly. Slytherin.

For a second she simply sat there frozen.

Part of her felt shocked. Another part strangely… relieved.

Because deep down, it did make sense.

The nervousness in her chest had not disappeared, if anything it had doubled now that hundreds of students were watching her, but beneath it something warmer flickered too. Excitement. Curiosity. The terrifying thrill of stepping into something completely unknown.

She stood slowly as the Slytherin table clapped louder, some students cheering while others leaned forward curiously to look at her.

Amber caught sight of a few students at other tables whispering immediately after hearing her house.

That familiar feeling returned again.

Being judged before being known.

But this time, instead of shrinking away from it, she lifted her chin slightly and walked toward the Slytherin table anyway.

If she was being honest with herself, she wanted to know the truth about this house on her own.

Not the version people whispered about.

The real one.

She had heard enough stories about the magical school from the first holiday break that her sister, Liora told them about during dinner, but Avali was still unprepared by the grandeur of the Great Hall. It was much larger than she had anticipated, and to make matters worse, there's also noise. That sheer, overwhelming buzz of chatter and hushed conversations tangle along her surrounding that somehow suffocates her, who got used to the silence of their manor walls.

Avali stood among the first years with a perfect posture and hands folded neatly in front of her, as how it was drilled into her by her mother since childhood. Shoulders straight, chin lifted, no fidgeting. Do not embarrass the family.

Feeling hundreds stares pointed towards their direction made that uncomfortable knot tighten in her stomach, but her expression remained composed and unfazed.

"That girl—"

"Oh, my. Avazando. Her brother..."

"Pureblood, as expected."

"Her posture screams Slytherin."

She didn't know if it was just her sharp hearing or they were deliberately whispering that loud so she could hear. But Avali ignored them. Because that's what an Avazando did best.

Ignore. Endure. Maintain composure.

She kept her eyes in front of the Sorting Hat as the professors began calling names, the hat doing its job in sorting the children and the tables erupting in a loud cheer for their new house members... too much loud for her preference that she just want to seal her hearing with earmuffs.

"Avazando, Avery."

Silence ensued again, not completely but enough for her to feel hundreds of eyes dart towards her shoulder. But she remained composed and unfazed as she step towards, her polished shoes clicking softly against the stone floor as she approached the stool with grace and dignity of a pureblood. One might think of how composed and fearless she was with her calm expression, but her thoughts begged to differ.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw some of the students with green ties were already interested as if they were ready to welcome her. Slytherin... house of purebloods. Being an Avazando, it would make sense if the Sorting Hat will place her there. After all, it was all about legacy, ambition, and blood purity. It will be easy for her student life without her parents breathing down her neck on who to interact and what to do since she will be surrounded with purebloods that they only want to associate with.

When the hat was lowered onto her, it covered her vision. Then she heard it... that dry voice murmuring within her mind like it was whispering things.

"Well now, aren't you an interesting mind?"

Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"Sharp mind... and a remarkable control for someone so young. All that pressure pressing down on you," the hat hummed thoughtfully. "You've been taught to fear failure."

Her folded hand curled slightly, almost unnoticed, as her eyes squinted behind the cover of the hat. 'I do not fear failure.'

"Oh, but you do," the hat replied rather calmly, seemingly amused at her denial. "And not because of pride... but because you think failure will make people disappear."

Those words echoed in her mind and Caelum's face flashed briefly in her mind... along with that night that she accidentally ended up making the chandelier shatter during the dinner and how tactless and cold they told them about his passing.

Her throat tightened.

"Hm. Clever. Incredibly clever. You hunger for knowledge, not power alone. You also question things quietly, observing things in silence, and despite everything you've been taught..." the Hat paused, "...you do not believe that superiority is determined by blood purity."

Her heartbeat stumbled... uncomfortable at how right and on point the hat was. Her silence was enough for the ancient Hat to consider it truth.

"You crave freedom more than status." The Hat mused. "Slytherin would strengthen the legacy. You will thrive there if survival is your goal..."

She waited quietly with her breath held back imperceptibly.

"But... there is curiosity in you stronger than obedience."

Wait, what?

"RAVENCLAW!"

She froze as applause erupted from the table basked in bronze and blue. It wasn't loud as if those clapping hadn't expected such thing to occur as well, but she just remained seated as the hat got removed from her head. She blinked once before standing up and heading to the table as if the result was nothing.

She didn't react, even if she saw the confused reaction of some purebloods seated in the Slytherin table. Who wouldn't be? A pureblood line like Avazando... in Ravenclaw house. It sounds scandalous for their circle. But she wasn't worried. Her family will accept this result, as Ravenclaw embodies knowledge. And what does Avazando prized more than knowledge?

But despite that, she sat on the table quietly, giving a polite nod of acknowledgement and gratitude for the warm welcome, albeit so awkwardly.

And as she watch the other students get sorted to their own respective houses, Avali felt something unfamiliar tugged away from within her chest so quietly.

It wasn't freedom to feel glee. But perhaps it was a first.

A first fracture against the laurel that shackles around her mind, body, and soul.