Closed The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019

The moment he entered the Great Hall, Isaac's heart began to pound wildly in his chest, like a caged bird slamming against iron bars. This was it. It hadn't sunk in until now, but he realized that there was no going back: he would be sorted into a House, and live at Hogwarts for the rest of the year. Amongst real-live wizards. It was almost too surreal and terrifying to be true.

But he couldn't let any of his fear show. Jutting his chin up with a swish of his curly hair, he fixed his gaze towards the source of the music, but was frustrated to find that he couldn't see anything while standing behind the other towering backs.

Oh well. He would just have to wait his turn to figure out what was going on. As the strange voice sung on about the "houses" and something to do with "Gryffindor" and "Ravenclaw," he busied himself with examining the other students around him. Some of them looked plenty curious and almost awe-struck at the chandeliers and magic, while others looked a lot more scornful or apprehensive. He wondered how many of them grew up in wizarding families. He wondered if any of them would become his friends.

Finally, there was a cascade of applause and a stony silence. The Deputy Headmaster began to read out names in a gravelly voice that echoed throughout the hall. Each time a name was called, student would walk up to join them and sit above on a stool, wearing a peculiar torn hat. Afterwards, the hat would open its mouth and boom out the name of a house.

Fiddling with the hem of his cloak, it took him a few minutes to realize that his name was being called. It was his turn already?

"Ambrose, Isaac! Is Ambrose, Isaac present?"

From the exasperation in the voice, he realized that it wasn't the first time he was being called. Hands shaking, he got to his feet and piped up, "Here!" - dashing around shoulders and shoving elbows all the while. A few students gave him furious glares, but he ignored them, bounding up the stairs to reach the top of the stage.

Finally. Gasping, he sat upon the stool, hearing a massive creak as he slammed down onto it. The deputy headmaster placed the wide-brimmed hat atop his head, and it drooped over Isaac's eyes, causing him to huff before adjusting it. Gently, a sensation overwhelmed his mind, needle-thin and piercing his temples.

"Ambrose, Isaac are you? Much different than your father...that's for sure."

A flash of light overwhelmed his mind, and he could suddenly see himself laughing on a swing, swooping back and forth through the air. Fall leaves danced in the wind as his younger self whooped, leaping off of the swing at its peak and falling perfectly onto the ground.

Stop it! he thought suddenly. Turning with the hat flopping over his eyes, Isaac lifted the brim to peer at the deputy headmaster, but the official's hands were clasped and he simply glanced back uncertainly. He couldn't be using magic to read Isaac's mind.

That meant that there was only one answer. Chilled, he felt the leathery brim of the hat with his fingers, realizing that it was enchanted, and worse yet, that it was reading his memories.

The ancient voice creaked in his head again, chuckling softly. You have none of the diligence of a Hufflepuff I'm afraid...but certainly the intelligence and innovation of a Ravenclaw...the ambition of a Slytherin...ah ha! I know the house that is perfect for you.

Oh really? Isaac thought, trying to mentally block the hat from reading any more of his mind. How would a hat know anything about it?

But the old Sorting Hat didn't answer. It simply gave him an almost smug laugh, the kind that caused Isaac to feel annoyance boiling in his stomach. With a loud bellow, it called out,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!"

She gazed around to absorb all the greatness of the Great Hall they've stepped into after a short walk with the Headmaster Blackburn. And the same word was cycling in her head because the hall was undoubtedly Great. She wondered whether it looked that great because of the ceremony, or it looked like that all the time.

The whole crowd flowed between the tables towards some head table, where all the professors sat and silently greeted the upcoming horde of first-years.

Then there was the very old song from a very old artefact of forgotten magic, her mom had told her about. The song was a long one and Meenauh noticed that even the professors were bored up to the end of it, but everyone seemed to control their emotions. Well, they've been listening to the song every year, right?

The Deputy Headmaster, she didn't catch the name of (adding a mental task of finding out as soon as possible to her task list), started to call out students one by one. They sat on a stool and the hat was placed on their heads. The average reaction time was around 4.5 seconds, as she calculated. The average, because some of the hat shoutings happened even without touching the heads, and some rarely took half a minute pauses before carefully announcing the decision. But do they even get a chance to tell the hat about their aspirations?

Mom told her everything she could remember about how it'll go, but the whole journey to the castle and the greatness of the castle turned her memory blank, so she just let the moment in and enjoyed it. She was almost 99% sure about the house she'd be sorted in. With quite a precise certainty her mother spoke of Ravenclaw as almost the only viable option, especially if Meenauh really wanted to put her hands on the secret Ravenclaw library (if the rumours were true) after finishing every other book in Hogwarts.

Abi got Hufflepuff ("I should have made a bet."). Angellica got Ravenclaw. Oswald was not sorted yet.

Angellica got Ravenclaw! So at least one housemate. That was exciting — someone to sit next to after the sorting and make it all much more comfortable.

"Silmataurea, Meenauh!" resounded in her ears, mind and every corner of her body.

Well, actually the Deputy Headmaster could only get the surname from the first attempt, so she had to correct the pronunciation of the name a bit. "Thanks, mum..." she whispered to herself, stepped forward and launched herself onto the stool.

"Can I actually talk to it? Or it'll just read my mind? Or it'll be my own mind talking to myself and the hat will just absorb the types of the brain waves?" the swarm of thoughts was attacking her during those few seconds before the hat was placed onto her head, and then a second clearly alien voice suddenly appeared in her head, making all the other thoughts halting in frozen shock:

"Wow, wow, look who's here!"

Her mind went blank. It seemed she couldn't even allow herself to have a thought at that moment. And the hat clearly didn't sound like a several centuries old artefact at all.

"Pardon me?" she hastily came to her senses and asked in response.

Then the hat continued:

"I mean, we don't have much time... not that I care though... but still, I remember this kind of thinking. And I sense your determinacy and result-orientedness in your blood heritage. So, erm, Hufflepuff then, okay?"

"Wow, wow, calm down! Do I have to negotiate that with you?" suddenly she realised why that first phrase came like that from the hat but noted down to process this thought later.

"It's not quite a negotiation. It's more like I'm reflecting your own aspirations or maybe destiny, which you may not see for yourself," the hat's voice came out a bit more mysterious this time.

"Yes, my mom was a Hufflepuff, but she always said that I'm an absolute Ravenclaw. I didn't even think that I could be placed in any other house, so..." but the hat interrupted:

"You see? She always said. That's what I was talking about. I'm going to place you where you belong, where you'll find happiness. And you'll have to figure out why by yourself. But, believe me, this is the road to glory."

"But I don't want glo-" 

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat seemed to shout as loud as it could.

"What?!"

The cold shiver went down her spine from complete unexpectedness, but the Deputy Headmaster already snatched the hat from her head, pointed to the table to the left and called out the next name, so her exclamation died in the applause from the Gryffindor table.

She rushed to her House's table almost automatically, puzzled, and looked at her new fellow students applauding to her as she sat down on a bench. It all seemed real and nothing unusual to them, so she wondered whether the hat was always like that.

Rose felt weary and tired, her feet dragged and her hair was rumpled. As the walked toward the castle dread grew inside her. What if she was placed in Slytherin? The boys in the train apartment had talked about the houses. Though Primrose didn't take part in this conversation she listened quite carefully. As they walked up she thought she heard the man say something about houses and house points and winning the House Cup??? What's that about she looked around but everyone seemed to know what the man was talking about. She gasped as they walked in she had never seen such a big building her whole inter-house could fit in it. They were lead from one place to another Rose tried to remember which way the had gone. Left and right upstairs take another right through a door finally after what felt like ages they were here. Huge wooden doors stood a few feet away from them. As Headmaster Ackerly talked to them about the sorting she thought what sounded like a thousand people were talking and laughing with each other. She was starting to wonder what the were going to have to do, as the walked through those doors she heard several people gasp as the walked under the floating candles. She tried to compose herself the Headmaster had left them in front of the whole school a man had stepped forward with a list. He started calling out names she knew she would be one of the last to get sorted as her last name started with W.
She watched her fellow first years get sorted into separate houses, as she gazed around the room she thought the only inviting houses were mostly Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Then she heard, Walker, Primrose. Her legs felt like jelly as she walked to the stool. After The sorting hat had been placed on her head a voice seemed to be whispering in her ear, Primrose Walker you have a thirst to learn and bring victory to your house. But where to put you? You have a thirst of knowledge, but you are outstandingly loyal, Yess no doubt about that. No better be!!!


HUFFLEPUFF

After the train and boat ride up to the castle, Emile has already started to feel nervous. Nervous, but definitely excited. Extremely excited to say the least. 

He had heard wondrous stories of the Great Hall. The food, the people, the ghosts, the banners, the lanterns! Everything. When him and all the other first years finally got to the doorways of the Hall, all thoughts rushed out of his mind except for one: Woah! 

It was huge, and it definitely lived up to it’s name. The older kids didn’t seem to think twice about the hall, and how large it was. The pillars all around. The huge ceiling filled with candles that looked like they were hanging from the sky. Each table as long as an entire building, filled with laughing kids. And at the front sat the teachers and the Headmaster. Seeing them made him even more excited to learn all about wizardry. 

Soon, all of the first years were walking down the middle of the room and grouped together at the front where a stool and the famous sorting hat stood. Emile was petrified.

His family had all of the houses in them: His grandfather was a Gryffindor, his Grandmother a Hufflepuff. His mother was a Ravenclaw, his uncle had been a Slytherin. Emile has absolutely no idea what house he would be put into, and that scared him a bit.

Secretly, he was hoping to be in Gryffindor. He loved the rich red and sparkling gold color theme it had, along with it being the loyal, leader House of Hogwarts. 

Whilst thinking about this, he hadn’t even heard the occasional applause when someone would get sorted, or when other people’s names would get called. He didn’t notice that soon the group surrounding him had gotten smaller and smaller. And at one point he didn’t even hear his name being called. 

“Emile! Emile Yorke! Gracious, where is this student?” 

Emile frantically pushed through the small crowd over to the sorting hat with a worried look on his face. “Sorry, sorry. That’s me. I didn’t hear you.” He said, pushing some of his floppy hair out of his face. The professor shook their head and told him not to worry about it. 

Soon, Emile had gotten onto the stool and the famous sorting hat was on his head. 

“Another Yorke! This family always comes back and I never know what to do with you.” The sorting hat remarked. It was true though. His family was definitely all over the place. 

“Quiet...but intelligent. Ravenclaw? Oh. Nevermind Ravenclaw. You’re nothing like your mother.” The hat said. Emile stood still, his eyes try to look at the hat, even though it was obvious that wasn’t possible.

“Gracious, what to do...ah! I see...you seek power and glory...mmm...” The hat seemed to be puzzled. His mother and father always told Emile their family had always puzzled the hat. 

“I’ve decided!” The hat suddenly said. 

“Gryffindor!” It yelled, and Emile’s face lit up. Gryffindor, the house he had been hoping for! Golden, and loyal. A lion! He was absolutely ecstatic. 

Emile stood up, his hands up for some reason, and ran over to his table and immediately sat down, blending into the chatter of his table. 

Everything felt surreal, but Emile knew that his years at Hogwarts were to be filled with many adventures, his first one being sorted. 

Margaret looked up at the ceiling of The Great Hall, the candles glittered like starlight and a haze of clouds seemingly stretched up to eternity. Her eyes glittered as she finally see the things her mother had told her to get her to sleep.
She tapped her foot impatiently, feeling a restless rash energy flowing inside her.
Just sort me already!!!, she thought looking around excitedly.

"Margaret Blum." the teacher had finally called her name!

She ran up excitedly to the seat and let her eyes flit around each table of wondering students. She felt the hat touch her head and suddenly her mind was filled with a voice.

'Ah, Miss Blum. Quite haughty and mischievous. Certainly rash and impulsive, willing to fight for what she believes in yet also incredibly loyal. Hmm, I could put you in Gryffindor... or perhaps Hufflepuff'?

Come on, come on, just get it over with. I want to eat. Feast...feast...feast... Margaret thought, impatiently tapping her foot.

'I see, simple-minded like your father.' the sorting hat sighs. Margaret is bouncing in her seat, willing the sorting hat to come to a decision.

Any house, I don't care. Just sort me. she thought. Her mother had been in Ravenclaw, breaking the Slytherin tradition of their pure-blood family, and her father had been in Gryffindor. She was never taught that what house you're in matters.

'Alright, best put you in...'

"GRYFFINDOR!!" the house bellowed, it's voice ringing through the Great Hall.

FINALLY, she thought jumping off the seat to join the cheering house of gold and scarlet.

The rapid thumping of her heart seemed to drown out the unceasing chatter among the other first years. Nora Thomson forced herself to take a deep breath, focusing on the warm air that filled her lungs. Why was she so nervous? Ever since she knew she had magic abilities she had told herself that it didn't matter what house she was sorted into. Gryffindor would be perfect for her brave, adventurous spirit, Hufflepuff would work well with her loyalty, Ravenclaw...well, she doubted she would get in there. And even Slytherin wouldn't be all that bad, right? So what was causing her hands to get so clammy and her breath to become so shaky?

The journey to Hogwarts had felt so unbearably long, but now that she was actually here, Nora couldn't help but wish she'd had a little longer on that train to calm her nerves. But when the Headmaster welcomed them warmly, Nora could feel a bit of her anxiousness settle. It was all going to work out how it was supposed to. And she had her parents back home rooting for her.

The double doors to the Great Hall were opened, and Nora was awed by the sight that greeted them. There were hundreds of students dressed in their respective House colors, thousands of glittering, floating candles, and several warm smiles of the professors at the far end of the Hall. It was all so inviting, and yet so nerve-wracking at the same time. Almost numbly, Nora followed the others in her year into the Hall and to the front where the notorious Sorting Hat waited for them on its stool. It was so surreal to see in person everything her mother had described to her. It was much better than she'd ever imagined.

The next few moments seemed to happen in a blur as the Headmaster welcomed the returning students, and the Sorting Hat sang its start of the term song. Names were read, students were sorted, and the group of first years slowly dwindled. Oh how she wished her last name started with an earlier letter! She just wanted to get it over with so she didn't have to feel so apprehensive about who she would spend the next seven years of her life with.

When her name was finally called, it took a moment for her to register that it was her turn. "Thomson, Nora," the Deputy Headmaster called out once more in slight agitation. Nora quickly hurried to the stool where she sat and allowed the Hat to be place over her long blonde locks. When the Sorting Hat spoke in her mind, it was as if she were talking to a dear friend, and her mind felt unusually clear and calm.

"Hmm, a very loyal girl," the Hat began. "Someone who is always willing to stand up for her friends, so perhaps Hufflepuff would be a good fit. But I sense a desire for greatness and achievement, so maybe Slytherin. And yet, your strongest traits lie within your courage and determination."

"So does that mean I'll be in Gryffindor?" she asked, a little hopefully.

The Sorting Hat was silent for a moment, and Nora felt her heart jump into her throat. Had she made it angry? Was he going to declare her un-sortable? But just as soon as these thoughts crept into her mind, the Sorting Hat shouted out just one word:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table cheered and Nora felt her entire body relax in relief. Grinning widely, she hopped off of the stool and made her way to her housemates. Deep down, she supposed she always knew that she would be a Gryffindor.

Eli arrived at at hogwarts heading inside feeling scared she din't know a lot about hogwarts how do you learn magic anyways she felt her legs feel like jello walking up to the school feeling very scared
she had the feeling that she was going to be the worst in the class because she never new she was a
witch she walked inside the castle it was beautiful the halls were huge she heard noise coming from the doors she thought, The hole school must already be hear so they were when she got told when she was going inside she felt a jolt what was she going to do magic? She thought this very fast because she was
walking in now she was very scared what would she have to do now?
The person that was leading them went up to the head table just then Eli noticed a little stool and a really dirty hat she though i hope we don't have to put that on because she was afraid
her hair might get dirty and in front of the hole school, When I call your now please come up and put the hat on the lady said, Great, Eli thought we have to put on the hat. Johnson Emily Emily became
a Gryffindor!, Hutson Zack Slytherin!, Greg Cole Hufflepuff!, Jeremy George Ravenclaw! , Gwen Kalie
Hufflepuff!, Dorm Eli whose Eli thought Eli, Oh no is me! thought as she walked to the hat Slytherin wouldn't be bad Gryffindor would be ok I would be glad with Ravenclaw
Hufflepuff would be fine though she thought.
Oh you want to get to the bottom of things and be liked by the teachers will have to be Ravenclaw, the hat said the last words out loud though went to the Ravenclaw table
and noticed how hungry she was when she thought this a bunch of food appeared on the table, WOW, she said out loud. When she ate all she could some dessert appeared on the table all of the desserts you
could think of ice cream, pies, mints, and even jello this was AMAZING but finally the feast was over and they followed there prefects to the dorms for Ravenclaw.

There was a palpable tension in the air as the first-years set foot in the Great Hall. A wave of silence overtook the room, casting dozens of eyes upon the new arrivals. Dozens of eleven-year-olds clad in black stared back curiously. Some had seen nothing like this place before and were looking about frantically at the magical space. Others seemed nervous, shrinking down to meld with the crowd. Perhaps they were nervous about the upcoming ceremony, or perhaps just shy as the young group was certainly the center of attention here. A few, however, looked perfectly cool and confident. These were the purebloods, the locals, and those who had grown up on stories of this place. They had nothing to fear, for they knew exactly what was about to happen. They even had some idea, a very strong and sure idea, of where they would end up by the end of this. They had reason to be sure of themselves.

Except, that is, for Guinevere Warren. Gwen walked with a sure stride, her pack straight and chin perfectly poised. She looked as though she owned this place, and had walked into this room every day of her life. Yet for her this was no sign of confidence. She had no clue what was going on here. The dancing cups and refilling plates, the signing hat... all of this was new and entirely fascinating. Magic. Magic was real. On the inside, her jaw had dropped to the floor. And as for this ceremony, she knew nothing of what was to come outside of the brief explanation they had been given. The only reason she looked so sure of herself was that it was how she always looked. Never slouch, look up, walk with poise and balance! These things had been drilled into her from the time she was three. After all, a celebrity could never be caught off-guard. A bad picture could ruin her reputation, and more importantly, her parents' reputation. All of this was so instinctive now that she stood the very picture of confidence despite her reeling mind.

She listened carefully to the song of the ceremony, doing her best to dispel the shock of it coming from a singing hat. Gwen looked upon each of the large tables. These were the houses, each obviously steeped in a pride and history she knew nothing about. The hat gave some vague information, and the new student tried he best to determine where she might belong. The Gryffindors were supposedly "brave and true"... adventurous types, perhaps? It was doubtful she would be cast there. Gwen was stubborn to be sure, though she'd never admit it to herself, but brave? She'd never had cause to be brave. The famous little Warren had always considered herself to be more of a follower. She followed her manager's directions, performing exactly as asked. She said, wore, and did, exactly as she was told to get the best reactions from her audience. Perhaps Hufflepuff would be a better fit? Kind and hard-working, dedicated to their friends. It was certainly a possibility. Gwen had never had friends, to be fair, but if she did she wanted to be kind and dedicated to them. Relationships of any kind were hard to form under the facade of stardom... but things would be different here. Well, she hoped they would be. Ravenclaw was full of the smart and studious - an unlikely fit. Young Guinevere had never formed an attachment to scholarly pursuits. In fact, she would often do her best to avoid her tutors. And Slytherins? They were difficult to read. The hat had called them "ambitious", but the eleven-year-old did not quite know what to make of this assertion.

She turned her head toward the Slytherin table to get a better reading, only to be met by another set of eyes. They, like the rest of the room, had been focused on the new set of firsties. But one boy was stuying her specifically. His face was contorted in an unknown struggle, as though he was straining to remember some important piece of information. Then something must have clicked, for his eyes widened into massive saucers.

"You!" He lept from his seat, pointing directly at her. Another boy, one with a green scarf and well-kept black hair, took notice of this.

The new, older boy turned to study Gwen as well. A sneer crossed is face. "You seem awful proud, firstie. Behind all that makeup."

Gwen blinked, surprised by the sudden interaction. She was used to the reaction from the first child, but this older boy was needlessly hostile. She simply gave him a winning smile, hoping to quell whatever issue he seemed to have with her. He seemed disgusted by this. The first boy, on the other hand, was beginning to jump from his seat.

"You're Gwen Warren! The Gwen Warren! I can't believe it, you're a wizard too!?"

"It's hard to believe myself" Gwen replied truthfully, turning away from the rude Slytherin. Yet even as she did this, his face suddenly shifted. The boy stood casually, his sneer disappearing, and extended his hand.

"Warren, you say? Of the Upton Warrens? My apologies, I had no idea I was speaking to a fellow pureblood. I suppose it is necessary for us to look our best among these..." He trailed off, obviously embarrassed by the perceived blunder.

Gwen had no clue what he was talking about, but nodded politely. First impressions were of utmost importance, and hearing her name seemed to have changed this boy's impression by far.

"No, you dolt! This is-" the frantic fan was cut off.

"I know who the Warrens are!"

Do you? Gwen had to wonder. Everyone in the Muggle world knew the Warrens. They were household names. But this arrogant boy didn't exactly have a Muggle air about him. Besides, she had never heard of the "Upton Warrens". Unless... suddenly it dawned on her. Although her father had only recently told her of her magical heritage, he did say he had been cast out of a rather prominent wizard family. A family of purebloods, to be exact. Whoever this boy was, he obviously didn't know about the scandal and assumed she was a part of that household. No reason to correct him on that.

"Pleasure" she nodded reassuringly, shaking his extended hand. "As you've just heard, my name is Gwen."

"Kale. Kale Verlyle." He stated his last name proudly as though it would mean something to her. "I assume we'll be seeing a lot of each other. All of the Warrens have been Slytherins, after all."

Gwen nodded, smiling to hide the fact that her stomach was churning. All of her family had been in this house? She looked somewhat pleadingly to the first boy, who was still ecstatic at seeing her face to face. He nodded frantically as if to say he hoped she was in their house too. Between the fanboy and... well, whoever this Verlyle kid was, she wasn't too sure she wanted to be. She took a moment to glance down the rest of the table, which held all sorts of interesting characters. Some looked kind, others mean, and still others were staring at her with that face she knew as celebrity recognition. It occurred to her that every table would be like this. Wherever she ended up, it'd likely be a mixed bag. At least there was some comfort in that.



The hat screamed out her name. If any muggle-grown students had not recognized her yet, they did now. She was met with stares and whispers as she approached the podium. Yet still she strode with confidence. This was nothing she wasn't used to. Always the talk of the town... but this time she was determined to be more than that. Here she was going to make some kind of difference. So yes, they had every reason to be whispering her name. One day they'd be cheering it.

The hat was large and rough. It fell over her eyes as she slipped it on. Then a jovial voice echoed throughout her mind.

Oh, anther Warren, is it? And here I thought they were done making children!

Gwen was rather annoyed at this. She knew nothing of her family, but that sort of rude wasn't it?

Quit that frowning, I'm only joking! Now let's see here... you're a bit of a blank slate, aren't ya? Stubborn, not much worldly experience... Still, you seem kind and determined enough. Perhaps Huff-no... Slytherin?

Gwen shook her head frantically. Not Slytherin. They may not all be bad, but that arrogant kid had given her a terrible impression. And the thought of that fanboy following her around every day was equally horrifying.

No? Are you sure? Well, there is a certain spirit about you. Small and undeveloped, but in time you could make for an excellent-



The hat bellowed out the word as she removed it from her head. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. Then again, she hadn't had many expectations in the first place. She waved to the crowd, sending a sympathetic wink toward the now-confused Kale. Gwen had never thought of herself as an adventurous spirit, but as the headmaster had pointed out, the hat is never wrong. She trotted confidently toward the Gryffindor table, nodding and waving to those who admired her as she passed. Some here knew her, but she was more interested in those that didn't. Her new, magical journey was about to begin. By the end of it, they would all know her. And she would have become someone worth knowing about.

Morrel was waiting for his name to be called. He knew he would be waiting for a while because the list is in alphabetical order, according to your last name.

"Heidi Osborne"... HUFFLEPUFF!

"The same house as my father," thought Morrel as a mighty cheer came from the Hufflepuff table. He wanted to be a Hufflepuff and follow his dad's path. He wouldn't mind being a Ravenclaw or even a Gryffindor. But at all costs, he would not want to be a Slytherin. Not because of Slytherin's history, but for the fact that it reminds him of his mom, who was a Slytherin and unfortunately, was divorced from his father and left him at the age of 3.

"Dareth Phillips"... GRYFFINDOR!

A deafening cheer came from the Gryffindor table. Morrel was getting more nervous by the second. There were still at least a dozen or two students left to be sorted.

"Melony Reid"... SLYTHERIN!

"Surely, I'm next," thought Morrel. And he wasn't wrong.

"Morrel Rodger"...

With sweaty palms and a racing heart, he slowly walked up to the stool and he could feel the many eyes staring through the back of his head. He got up on the stool and closed his eyes instinctively as the hat was placed on his head.

"I see... a very mixed personality... always loyal to others, friendly... really witty and intelligent but also cunning... definitely not brave"
Morrel agreed with a slight smirk.
"I know where to put you!"
Morrel's heart was pumping so fast, it might as well explode.


Morrel sighed with relief, jumped off the stool and walked shyly to the now roaring Ravenclaw table.