Chapter Six: The Sorting Ceremony

The Sorting Hat finally finished its song and fell silent. Professor Melus took out a piece of parchment and said, “Next, when I call your name, the new student will come up and put on the Sorting Hat. After you are sorted, you may sit at your House table.”

“Abraxas Malfoy!” Professor Melus called out, reading from the parchment.

Sheven patted Abraxas on the shoulder and whispered, “Good luck.”

On the surface, Abraxas appeared perfectly calm as he walked toward the chair at the front of the hall, but Sheven noticed his hand was trembling.

“Slytherin!”

The moment the hat touched his head, it declared decisively. The Slytherin table erupted in enthusiastic cheers. Abraxas broke into a smile and happily made his way to the place where Ignatius was waving at him.

“Alastor Moody!” Professor Melus announced.

The Sorting Hat didn’t hesitate: “Gryffindor!”

“Baruch Diggory.”

“Hufflepuff!”

…

“Penny Mannis!”

At that name, Sheven looked up and saw the freckled girl he’d seen earlier in the carriage, the one Abraxas had driven away, passing by him. In her haste, she accidentally stepped on Sheven’s foot and quickly turned to bow and apologize repeatedly.

Sheven shook his head and said, “It’s nothing. Go on, you’d better hurry.”

Grateful for his forgiveness, the freckled girl hurried to the chair, trembling as she put on the Sorting Hat.

Suddenly, the hall grew quiet. The Sorting Hat did not speak for a long moment.

Sheven glanced at the staff table and the House tables below; everyone seemed only mildly interested, soon returning to their conversations, as if this was all too familiar.

Beside him, Alcyone noticed his confusion and explained, “Some young witches and wizards possess traits of more than one House. The Sorting Hat takes longer to think when it meets them.”

Sheven nodded in understanding, then suddenly asked, “Do you think anyone could have all four Houses’ traits at once?”

Alcyone shot him a look. “Unlikely. I can’t imagine a Slytherin also possessing Hufflepuff’s qualities.”

“You’re probably right.”

After a minute’s contemplation, the Sorting Hat finally opened the split along its brim:

“Ravenclaw!”

At the Ravenclaw table, dressed in uniforms with blue collars, the students applauded, welcoming their first new member.

Of the four Houses, Ravenclaw seemed to have the fewest students; in contrast, Hufflepuff’s long table was nearly full.

“Come back, Miss Mannis!” Professor Melus called suddenly.

Penny Mannis had forgotten to return the Sorting Hat to the chair, and the whole hall burst out laughing.

Blushing fiercely, Mannis fled to the back row of the Ravenclaw table, shrinking into a corner. A few older Ravenclaws stood up, apparently to comfort her.

“Mentor Trelawney,” Professor Melus quickly called the next name, focused on keeping the process moving.

A silver-haired girl walked up to the Sorting Hat. Her cool, delicate features and strange, silvery eyes were striking. Her expression was utterly serene, as though nothing around her could disturb her attention.

“Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat called out.

The girl named Mentor opened her silvery eyes and, with unruffled composure, set the Sorting Hat on the chair again, her expression unchanged as if everything had gone just as expected.

“Sheven Rosier!”

Sheven, who had been studying the unusual girl, was startled by a sharp slap. He turned in surprise to find Alcyone pursing her lips beside him. “Stop gawking. It’s your turn!”

Sheven offered an embarrassed smile, straightened his sleeves a bit nervously, and walked up to the Sorting Hat.

Suppressing the urge to cast a Cleaning Charm on the hat, Sheven calmly set it on his head, careful not to tremble—he strongly suspected that even a slight tilt would shower him with dust.

“Difficult, very difficult,”

an unpleasant voice sounded in Sheven’s mind, making him jump.

“Don’t be nervous, child. I’m the Sorting Hat on your head.”

The Hat’s timely explanation kept Sheven from losing his composure in front of everyone.

“What an interesting child. Noble blood and lofty ambition—Slytherin would suit you well. Yet you thirst for knowledge and possess remarkable intelligence; Ravenclaw would also nurture you.”

Sheven wondered why he wasn’t being considered for Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but the Sorting Hat’s voice continued, “You might also have courage and integrity, but compared to your wit and ambition, they seem almost insignificant.”

Before he could ponder what ambition he might have, Sheven realized the Hat could hear his thoughts.

“Legilimency?” he asked silently.

“Clever child,” the Hat replied. “Now, I’d like to know your own opinion: Slytherin or Ravenclaw?”

“Either is fine,” Sheven muttered, though in his heart he thought about his years immersed in books, both out of a true desire for knowledge and a wish to find a way to reconcile his soul with a world he felt out of place in. Twenty years spent reading, never leaving Kamar-Taj, with precious few experiences outside of study.

If he had a choice, he thought, perhaps he would like to live differently.

“I understand,” the Sorting Hat seemed to decide at last.

“Slytherin!”

Thunderous applause erupted at the Slytherin table. Sheven was momentarily stunned. Opening his eyes, he saw Abraxas and Ignatius already beckoning him over.

He carefully set the Sorting Hat back on the chair, then looked up to see Alcyone among the new students on stage, glancing his way and quickly turning away when she met his gaze.

He smiled at her, then headed to the Slytherin table.

“Sheven!” Abraxas waved him over, whispering conspiratorially. “How did you manage it? The Sorting Hat was silent for five minutes! Pruett and I were starting to worry you’d be sorted into another House. Glad you’re with us in Slytherin after all.”

Sheven was surprised. “Was it really that long?”

Abraxas replied, “Pruett had a sandglass. See? The sand is nearly run out.”

Ignatius obligingly produced the hourglass. “It’s turned every ten minutes. When your sorting began, it was still more than half full.”

Sheven glanced at the hourglass in its dark green frame, filled with luminous green sand trickling to its end. As the last grains fell, the hourglass automatically rotated and inverted itself.

“Seems you’re right. Honestly, I didn’t feel like it took that long,” he said thoughtfully. “It just kept wavering between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

“Too bad,” Abraxas sighed, trying to look disappointed, though the pride on his face was unmistakable. “For me, it didn’t say a word before putting me in Slytherin.”

At that moment, Professor Melus called another somewhat familiar name.

“Walburga Black!”

Sheven saw the girl he’d once crossed paths with at the Mundane Robes Shop.

“Another Black,” Abraxas muttered beside him.

“Another?” Sheven asked.

“You didn’t know? The Blacks are practically taking over Slytherin.” Abraxas began counting off the Black family members in Slytherin. “Seventh-year Head Girl Charis Black, sixth-year prefect Dorea Black, fifth-year prefect Cedrella Black, plus several younger Blacks… It’s enough to give anyone a headache!”

Sheven noticed Walburga Black had already been sorted and sat beside a girl whose features bore a strong resemblance to her own.

“Are the Blacks always Head Girl or prefects? Are they all that outstanding?” Sheven inquired.

At this, Ignatius turned and explained, “Professor Slughorn, our Head of House, is on good terms with all the pure-blood families, but he’s especially partial to the most influential. It’s only natural the Blacks are favored.”

Sheven couldn’t help but twitch his lips. “That’s a bit too realistic…”

Just then, Alcyone was called to the stage. The Sorting Hat easily gave the answer: Slytherin.

Alcyone bounded over, shooing Sheven aside so she could squeeze in beside him.

She bared her teeth in an exaggerated grimace. “Do you know you made me stand there for five minutes!”

Sheven offered a wry smile. “It wasn’t on purpose! Blame the Sorting Hat! Want me to cast a curse on it for revenge?”

Alcyone said, “Speaking of curses, you should at least use a Cleaning Charm on it; it’s filthy!”

Sheven nodded in agreement. “Who could argue with that?”

…

At last, all the new students were sorted. At the center of the dais, Headmaster Armando Dippet rose to speak. With neatly trimmed white hair and beard and evenly lined wrinkles, he looked every bit the capable elder.

“Welcome, welcome, new students, to Hogwarts! For the next seven years, this will be your warm and welcoming family. And, of course, welcome back to all returning students.”

His expression then grew stern. “I must also remind you: the Forbidden Forest is off-limits to students, and no spellcasting in the corridors. The world remains fraught with tension, so I urge you all to study diligently and improve your ability to defend yourselves.”

With the speech concluded, the Headmaster waved his hand, and the tables filled magically with a dazzling array of food. Eagerly, everyone set to feasting.