Newcomers The Sorting ceremony 2017-2018 Closed

Thora hadn't listened to what Ava said about the Sorting Ceremony. Her sister always affected a holier-than-thou air that irked Thora no end, and besides it didn't seem evil to her to have a magical hat that could read thoughts placed atop her head, just like magic didn't seem evil. It felt much more like a gift - like an escape.

Once Thora heard the hat's song, however, she felt rather terrified. That all sounded like quite a lot to live up to for a young witch who'd just found out she was magical. What sort of madness was this? She was just eleven! She wasn't daring or cunning or intelligent, and she certainly wasn't friendly. Was she? She just didn't know, yet!

She didn't have to wait long before her name was called, however. Her knees felt as though they'd turned to water as she moved to step forward. Eyes focused on that hat - that terrible, judgemental hat - she tripped on the first step and had to catch herself with the palms of her hands. It stung, and a few people behind her sniggered, but Thora ignored them and kept going, wondering if she'd ever known her legs to feel so watery and weak.

It was a relief to have the hat settle over her eyes, though. She felt safe from the scrutiny of all of those staring eyes. And then the voice in her head... well, it wasn't as frightening as she'd imagined it to be, really. The voice had a comforting quality to Thora. She liked it. It made her smile as it sifted through her mind for whatever it searched, and it seemed to begin to ask her a question before pausing, saying a 'no... aah... I see... there it is...,' and then shouting, "Gryffindor!"

Levi was in a state of complete awe. His eyes kept glancing to the ceiling, which seemed to open up to the heavens, though he had read in one of the books that it was just bewitched to look that way. Ghosts flew around the Great Hall, greeting returning students and surveying him and the rest of the new ones with interest. It was all amazing that Levi couldn't actually believe that he was there.

Levi was no stranger to magic - his father, Killian, was a wizard after all - but Levi had never seen magic practiced so openly. He was sure if had seen more if his father's family visited them more often than just the holidays, but they seemed to shun Killian after he married Amarylis, a muggle. His father told Levi that since his family and him were pureblood they felt that by marrying Amarylis he was tainting the family line. They grew even more upset when they received news that she was pregnant, worried that their children would show any promise of magic at all.

This prompted Killian and Amarylis to move away from England - where both of their families were - and move to Scotland, where Levi was eventually born. Killian was still a wizard and practiced magic, but since he lived in a community of muggles he never did anything other than simple spells, thinking that stronger spells would make other suspicious. Of course, Levi always had a lot of questions, and even though Killian did answer some of them, he seemed to prefer for Levi to learn about it slowly - possibly so Amarylis could live the semblance of a normal life as possible, even if she did know about her husband's gift.

Killian's family seemed to warm up to Levi and his mother when he was about five. This was around the time that Levi started to exhibit magical powers, in the form of telepathy. Whenever he was around other people, if he concentrated enough, he could always tell what they were thinking or if they were hiding something from him. When questioned, he never could tell others where he received his information, only that he seemed to innately know. This was evidence that Levi did indeed have magic running through his blood and Killian's family seemed ecstatic.

After they did make somewhat of an effort but they never did want to travel to Glasgow to visit Levi and the rest of his family. According to Killian they were too used to using magic and didn't want to tone it down in the muggle city. It was for these various reasons that being at Hogwarts was so astonishing to him. He had never seen magic being used at such high degrees, and he had never seen so many kids that were like him - at least in cases of strange occurrences.

"Levi Matthews."

His name being called broke Levi out of the reverie he was in. He straightened out his robe and hat, moving towards the stool where the sorting hat stood, moving past the crowd of students in front of him. He had decided to stand at the back, completely overtaken by everything happening around him. He nodded to Professor Anderson near the hat and sat down on the stool, taking off his pointed hat so the larger hat could be placed on his head.

As soon as the hat was placed on his head it began to speak, the words ringing out in his mind. "Hmm. I haven't seen a Matthews here for years but have been wondering when one of you would show up." Levi blinked, wondering if the hat really knew his family as Matthews was a rather common last name, but even as he thought it, the hat responded. "I do know all of them. All of your family, at least on your father’s side, sat where you sit now. All of you have a certain sense about you, even if all of your family members tended to vary in their sortment of Houses."

Levi wasn't sure what to dwell on this before the hat continued. "You have a thirst to learn more the world you come from. It seems that since your father married a muggle you haven't seen as much as you'd like to." That much was true, at least Levi thought so. "But I see you also have a yearn to prove not only to yourself, but the rest of your family, that even though you're a halfblood that you can still be a powerful wizard." Levi was surprised by this revelation, as the thought hadn't really crossed his mind that much.

"It may be unorthodox, but I can see you only at one place..."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Levi jumped as the hat shouted the last bit rather than speak it to him personally. An eruption of cheers rang out from the house adorned with green and Levi stood slipping the sorting hat off his head and handing it to the Professor. "Thank you..." Levi told him, and flashing a smile he went to join his new housemates.

Welp here he was finally it would soon be his turn, soon his house would be chosen. What would it be he wondered Gryffondor home of the brave and courageous. 'No' He thought, he wasn't brave in the slightest far from it he preferred more clever methods. So maybe Slytherin, but no again he thought. Slytherin's were quite the clever bunch. However many of them were quite the snobs or at least that was the impression he had always gotten. At least from the way his parents talked about them. Then that left Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Logically those two made sense but wh-

"Quinn Healy!"

Before he could continue his thoughts further his name had been called. He sighed taking a calming deep breath. Quinn stepped up and took a seat on the chair. With a smile he carefully took the hat and put it on his head.

"Hmmm....oh another Healy. Yes quite the curious bunch...studious as well you would fit perfectly in Ravenclaw but." It paused for a moment. "Mmmmm yes...that'll do...HUFFLEPUFF!" it yelled for all to hear.

'Well that was not what I expected it all.' He thought as he slid off the chair once the hat was taken off. What did the sorting hat see in him that changed its mind of sending him to Ravenclaw like his parents before him. Quinn made his way over to the table with more questions than answers.

Max waited patiently behind the other students, remembering the tips his parents had given him once he got into Slytherin. Pick a group who looks confident; you'll be spending the next few years with these people and you can't afford someone made of all laziness and no ambition. You know what to look for. He did, indeed, and a quick look over some of the kids that had already been picked showed him some good prospects. He was so busy watching that he almost missed his name being called.

" -very! Max Avery!" The voice jolted him out of his head and back to reality, and he made his way purposefully up the stairs, expecting the process to be quick. A couple of the other kids had been sorted immediately, so he figured the Sorting Hat would barely have to touch his head before it called out the green his family was so proud of.

"Hm... Interesting. An Avery, eh?" the Sorting Hat mumbled, as if thinking to itself. Max frowned as it shifted on his head, turning him this way and that as if it couldn't decide which way to go. It was ridiculous; he was clearly Slytherin. He had the cunning, he had the ambition, and he was meant to be a leader. Why was it taking so long?

"Every hair on your head, from your eyes to your boots..." the Sorting Hat continued. Max was aware of eyes on him; he knew at least a few of the boys from the train were expecting him to join them. If this took any longer, it would make him look bad and he might lose out on the group he'd chosen while waiting in line. He closed his eyes and pictured his future; at his family's side, fighting the war against mudbloods. There, that should...

"I see! Training doesn't take the heart out of things. You'll be placed in... GRYFFINDOR!"

Max sat there with probably the stupidest expression on his face, waiting for someone to say that it was a mistake; nothing about him was Gryffindor. But a moment later he was being ushered away for the next student to take their turn and no one looked like they were laughing or trying to call him back for another choice. He made his way to the red and gold in a daze, feeling all colour drain from his face. Gryffindor. The House of mudblood-lovers and muggle-sympathizers. He was doomed.

Vincent's eyes were darting around the Great Hall, his anxiety building with each minute that passed by. Irrational thoughts filtered through his head-what if he wasn't meant to be here? What if he wasn't actually magical and all those accidental magics are a scam? What if he is actually dreaming? He swallowed, and wrung his wrist, before rubbing his clammy hands on the fabric of his robe as he struggled not to faint.

'Though...the hall looks...' Staring at the people around the hall, the food and the decoration and-the ceiling!- caused his mind to blank for a moment and struggle to find a word to describe it all, '...amazing!'

He gave himself a mental nod, that is right, the hall is absolutely amazing and if this is the hall then he is genuinely curious as to what the common room, or even the classrooms would look like. Will it look as grand as the hall? Would there be floating candles in the classroom as well? His mind are already running ahead of him, imagining what the classroom would probably look like-oh, despite his anxiety he is already getting excited for what is to come.

Vincent really wished that his father would tell him more about the school-the same one he has attended in his youth but then again, his father has always been a man of a few words-or rather none at all- and has always been contented with staying at the sidelines while Vincent explored to his heart's content.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed his name being called. Thankfully, a wispy projection-a ghost- floated past him, startling him and making him realize, with fear, that his name has been not only called once, but twice.

" -ender! ...Vincent Eastender!"

Yelping, he immediately scrambled towards the stool on the front of the hall; he is incredibly aware of the uncomfortable warmth on his face and the eyes of many, many students in the halls on him. Without any grace, he sat onto the stool with painfully awkward motions and stared at the sorting hat with trepidation- he has seen it talk, and it can clearly think...what if it laughs at him instead of sorting him?

As it neared him, he immediately squeezed his eye shut and his hands went to grip at the edge of the stool-he is being ridiculous, he knew it, but he really couldn't help it. Something large and almost leathery was placed on his head, and darkness came over his vision-for a brief moment, he had a irrational thought that maybe this was all a prank after all before a voice sounded-not in his ears, but he could distinctly feel it speaking inside his head.

"Hmm...let's see what we have here," His breath hitched slightly, not sure if he is supposed to reply to that.

'Hi...?' He thought, but was interrupted when the sorting hat continued as if it hasn't heard him at all, "Ah, an Eastender, I remember the last one was quite difficult to sort, but alas, it has to be done and he was sorted into Ravenclaw...now...you have quite a love for animals, don't you? Kind as well, always a good trait to have, I see that you are incredibly loyal as well-I've seen how you've helped and stayed with your dog...Slytherin is obviously out of the question, neither do you have any strong desire to pursue knowledge,"

Vincent flushed at that, unsure if he should be feeling insulted or embarrassed at having his secrets open like that-in fact, it was a bit intruding. It isn't his fault that he doesn't seek knowledge, or look for new things quite often-he is very content with re-reading the same book for the third time and going about the same old routine...

"Hmm, you could have been in either Griffindor or Hufflepuff; Griffindor with the bold and the brave or Hufflepuff with the loyal and the patient?" Vincent got the impression that the hat is deep in thought, and instinctively he twitched his cold hands in an attempt to get some blood flowing back in. He definitely don't see himself fitting in with the bold or the brave, he is certainly the opposite of being bold, or brave; he has never dared to confront anyone, and neither does he have enough courage to speak to anyone let alone do anything that is considered 'noble' or 'admirable' like those characters depicted as Griffindors in his books.

Hesitantly, he piped up, "Um, I think...I might fit in with the Hufflepuffs...I mean, I am not brave, or anything like that-I am patient, I think? Yeah, Hufflepuffs...sound better, can I please?' He cursed himself-how could he stumble over his words even when thinking? But regardless, it happened and there was a brief moment of silence before the hat stirred.

"Of course, Hufflepuff would suit you well." The hat conceded and Vincent could imagine it taking an imaginary breath before screaming-

"Hufflepuff!!

With a slight smile-excitement or just glad that it listened to him, he isn't quite sure- he pushed the hat off his head and placed it back on the stool with a murmured 'thank you' before rushing off towards the Hufflepuff table. Only then he realized how warm his face is and how unsteady he was when he accidentally knocked his feet against the chair in his attempt to look for a more secluded corner and climb onto the seat.

It is a wonder why isn't his head exploding with all the blood rushing to his head, Vincent thought, pressing the back of his hand against his cheek in an attempt to cool it down as subtly as he could.

Sybil had looked around the Sorting Hall in awe. Being one of the more wealthy families in England, she had seen some truly remarkable architecture, but she had never seen the likes of Hogwarts. She had heard about it from her mother and father, with them being a wizard and witch themselves, but she didn't know what to expect until now. She watched the woman at the front as she called out names. She wasn't taken aback when the hat placed upon their head seemed to speak to them, and focused on her surroundings as she waited her turn. She noticed four different tables, all adorned in the house colors, and secretly hopped she'd get Gryffindor. She was always told red brough out her eyes more, and that was good for business. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of anything professional. The hat got to the G's, and she waited eagerly, until...

"Greathouse, Sybil." She got up a little too fast, her chair squeaking. She grimaced, and could feel eyes on her. She remembered her confidence techniques, and pushed her shoulders back, kept her chin up, but not so much to look snobbish, and gave a confident close-lipped smile as she walked to the front. She sat on the stool, and the rough material of the hat was placed on her head. In her ear, she could hear a voice, and was startled at the suddenness, but did not let it show.

"Ah, yes, let's see. Sybil Greathouse. I remember your parents coming up here. Fine Ravenclaw students, they were. All brains, but very stubborn and prudish. Nevertheless, I see a spark of rebellion in you. You wish to be different from your parents. You want to be happy, and carefree. That's a touch of Hufflepuff in you. I also see the fierce desire and determination to do well, beat your peers out, and make your parents proud. Gryffindor, that is. But there is also a deep sadness, and anger at yourself for not being good enough. Now that's a poor attitude if I ever saw one. Slytherin there... But overwhelmingly, you analyze your situations, and plan accordingly to let your other traits shine. Thus, there's only one true match for you, not that I had any doubt. "

And with that, the Sorting Hat yells out your house to the hall.

"RAVENCLAW"

Sybil's mouth dropped open slightly, but her heart warmed when she saw the Ravenclaw house. Some were clapping politely, trying not to look rowdy, whilst some were standing and clapping or cheering. She smiled slightly as the Sorting Hat was taken off her head. As she walked over to the Ravenclaw table, she said a silent thank you to the Sorting Hat, and hopes she would find where she belonged here.

Celynne stared around at the Great Hall, marveling at the floating candles and the bewitched ceiling, not to mention the food. She had never tasted anything like it.
Then again, it was magic. She shouldn't have been surprised.

As names were called and houses shouted, Cel ceased to feast her eyes on the wonders of magic, turning her attention to the strange hat at the front of the Hall in case her name was called. Nervously she began to think rapidly. What should I do when my name is called? I do wonder what the sorting hat will think of me, and what will happen when I wear it. Will it take long to sort me, or short like some of the others? What if--

"Flores, Celynne!"

Apprehensiveness biting at the edges of her nerves, Cel made her way up to the stool. Every footstep seemed too loud in her ears, the click of her shoes echoing in the high-ceilinged room. As she seated herself on the old, rickety stool in front of all the other students, the girl felt the stiff old fabric of the Sorting Hat nestled atop her hair. Immediately the Hat's voice began to murmur in her mind, causing her to nearly jump out of her seat.

Hmm, muggle-born, are you? the Sorting Hat muttered. Cel was about to acknowledge the notion before it interrupted, causing her shock to spike. No, no. Not at all. Makes sense. Ah, didn't know, did you? Anyway... hmm, we don't usually receive students with such... American minds. Not a Hufflepuff, though, no matter how casual most of them are. This one is too... closed off. The girl took offense, blinking rapidly a couple of times, and the Hat chuckled. You've been through your travail, eh? Perhaps a Gryffindor? But no, too shy. Slytherin might fit... I do see enough cunning in you... but no. You have spent more time than most eleven-year-olds in a university, after all. A thirst for simply knowing-- knowing all-- is apparent.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat bellowed into the Hall aloud, and the stiff fabric was raised off her head as Cel hopped off the stool, beginning to walk to the blue-robed students who had erupted in cheering. Her pace quickened as she saw the grinning faces and welcoming arms.

As she seated herself, she smiled at the welcome around her, thinking that she would very much like this school.

Lucy walked with a bounce in her step with the other first-years. The train ride had been plenty exciting in and of itself, but this room really captured the atmosphere of the day. "I can't believe I'm going to be sorted into my very own house," she whispered to herself as the throng of students surged toward the front of the room. Those who were already sorted were joking and laughing with each other, some in the Gryffindor house playfully rough-housing while a few Slytherins pointed at some of the first-years in the crowd and whispered behind their hands.

Lucy took all of this in without processing it. What she was really interested in was the house that she would get. Because of this, the grandeur of the architecture, the enchanted ceiling and candles, all of it was completely lost on her. Her eyes were laser focused on a dingy old hat on a stool at the front of the room. The Sorting Hat, she thought to herself with a grin. I can't wait to find out what I'm going to be. Dad was a Hufflepuff, but I like learning more than he did. I think I might be a Ravenclaw. She glanced at the students around her. Some looked like they were going to be sick. She laughed under her breath. Who had time to be nervous when they were probably living the best day of their life?

The professor began calling names. Lucy groaned internally when she realised that they were calling names alphabetically by last name. It's going to take forever to get to my name! She impatiently drummed her fingertips on her leg, the action hidden by the giant sleeve of her robe. She felt her wand in her pocket and grinned. I'm going to be learning real magic soon. I can't wait. Her excited energy practically hummed around her, and a few students edged away as she began rocking slightly from foot to foot.

Finally, finally, her name was called. 

"O'Sullivan, Lucy."

Lucy jumped forward and hopped onto the seat. She grinned out at the crowd, fancying herself the centre of attention for these brief moments. She looked out at each table as she waited for the Sorting Hat to be placed on her head. It seemed to deliberate with the other students, carefully choosing the house and muttering to itself, so she was shocked when she felt the hat barely skim her hair before it bellowed, "HUFFLEPUFF," without one single snarky comment.

Lucy was absolutely delighted. The Hufflepuff table whooped, grinned, and waved her over. Without a glance backwards, she joined her new house.

Asteria watched as her fellow first years came and went, sorted into their new houses. She wondered which house she'd be in. Her mother was in Gryffindor and her father was in Slytherin ,something her family would often joke about due to the rivalry between the two houses. Asteria didn't believe it mattered what house she was put in, but still she was curious nonetheless. "Hana, Asteria!" Asteria was shaken from her thoughts as the professor called her name. Slowly, she made her way through the other students and to the stool with the hat on it.

She watched as the professor lifted up the hat and she took her place on the stool. Asteria couldn't help but feel embarrassed, being sorted in front of the whole school was huge in her opinion. "Ah, another Hana!" Asteria gave a little jump as the hat began to speak. "Yes,yes I remember how much trouble your Father gave me. Slytherin or Ravenclaw, oh yes, and the witty, witty remarks in that head of his." Asteria gave a small smile, her dad did tell her about his sorting when she was younger. "Oh, but your mother, she was easy to sort,hmm. Gryffindor just like her father before her. But what about you,eh?"

"Intriguing, just like your father you are difficult to place, although not as difficult I might add." Asteria gulped at the comment. "Plenty of brains I see, just like both parents. But those brains are matched by your boldness hmm.." 'Anything is fine really, doesn't matter.' Asteria thought.
"Doesn't matter eh,  well let's see let's see....I see  great potential for you in Ravenclaw, no doubt there. You would be a welcomed young witch HOWEVER." The hat shouted. "I see even greater potential for you in.....GRYFFINDOR!!"
Relieved that it was over at last, Asteria gently removed the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried toward the cheering Gryffindor table to take her seat amongst her new peers.

Moving with the horde of first years into the Great Hall, Phedra let her eyes wander over the decor and architecture, in complete awe of the scene. She thought back to the letters Pavlina had sent when she was a student here, excitedly claiming how nice the school was. Candles floated in mid-air giving the room a tranquil atmosphere, and possibly Phedra's favorite feature, the ceiling was magically enchanted to compose of clouds and constellations. It really was as beautiful as her family said it would be.

Her chest pounding excitedly, Phedra moved between the two middle tables and stood with the rest at the front of the Great Hall. A wizard, named Professor Anderson, was standing next to a big, old hat, which Phedra knew specifically to be the Sorting Hat.

Her family had told her that this famous hat would sing a song every new year, and once placed upon a student's head would then place them into their respective houses loosely based on personality. And more curious, Phedra thought, the hat is never wrong. After the hat finished its song, Phedra clapped politely along with the others.

The Sorting of the first years then began, with the calling of the first name.

Knowing her name would be one of the last to be called, Phedra began to get antsy and let her mind wander. I hope I'm placed in Ravenclaw, she thought, mindlessly playing with the fabric of her robes. Not that Slytherin would be bad, I suppose, but I'd like to be with like-minded people... Hufflepuff... heavens no! 

"Stavrou, Phedra!" yelled out the professor suddenly, making Phedra jump a little. She moved slowly to the stool on the stage, turned, and sat. All eyes were on her. The professor placed the hat onto her head, and it was surprisingly heavy and hung a bit over her eyes.

"Ah, yes. Another Stavrou. I know your family well," spoke the Sorting Hat, its voice booming in Phedra's ears. "Your sister, Pavlina, was one of the brightest witches in her year. I can sense that overwhelming need for learning in you. 

Or perhaps, will you be a Slytherin, like your father and uncles? Your potential will be undeniable in Salazar's house! You have a great, ambitious desire to prove yourself. And, goodness! Is that boldness of yours a hint of Gryffindor?"

I'd like Ravenclaw, please. She bit her lip.

"Fine... Very well. A creative and strong mind such as yours has already determined your fate. Along with most of your family before you, I shall place you in--

RAVENCLAW!" Yelled the hat, and Phedra gave a sigh of relief. Smiling the most she had in a long time, she made her way to the table of blue and bronze and sat with her new family for the next seven years.