The first-years stepped inside, and a collective gasp filled the air.
The Great Hall was magnificent. Thousands of floating candles hovered above the long tables, casting a soft golden glow over the enchanted ceiling, which mirrored the night sky, complete with scattered clouds.
Four enormous tables stretched across the hall, each with older students dressed in their respective house colors, at the far end sat the professors with Dumbledore at the center, his long silver beard catching the light.
Hermione's eyes darted upwards. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," she murmured. "I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
Harry, Hermione, and Neville took in the sight, standing near the front of the group as an old, patched Sorting Hat sat atop a stool.
Suddenly, the hat's brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing:
Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
When the hat finished, a ripple of applause ran through the hall. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, unrolling a long scroll. "When I call your name, you will come forward, sit on the stool, and be sorted."
The first student was called:
"Abbot, Hannah!"
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails hurried forward, nervously placing the hat on her head. It barely touched her hair before the hat's loud voice rang out.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
The table second from the right erupted in cheers as Hannah scurried to join them.
McGonagall continued reading names.
"Boot, Terry!"
Terry, a boy with dark hair, hesitated before stepping forward. The Sorting Hat took a moment to consider.
"Ah, sharp mind, eager to prove yourself—hmm… RAVENCLAW!"
Applause rang out from the Ravenclaw table, and Terry looked relieved as he hurried over.
Several more students were called:
"Bulstrode, Millicent!" went to Slytherin.
"Bones, Susan!" joined Hannah at Hufflepuff.
"Goldstein, Anthony!" earned another cheer from Ravenclaw.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" was sorted into Hufflepuff after a brief hesitation.
Then, it was Hermione's turn.
"Granger, Hermione."
Hermione took a deep breath and strode forward, determined. The hat barely touched her head before it hummed thoughtfully.
"Ah, another bright mind—Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, I see… Courage and curiosity both thrive within you."
Harry watched her nervously.
"You could do well in either, but I see where your heart truly lies. You value knowledge and understanding above all."
There was a long pause before...
"RAVENCLAW!"
Harry and Neville clapped as Hermione beamed and made her way to her new housemates.
After a few more students,
"Longbottom, Neville."
Neville shuffled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. The hat sat silently for a long while before speaking.
"Plenty of bravery, yes, but you don't quite believe in it yet. You will, though. You'll grow into it."
.
.
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"Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, and Neville scurried over, looking relieved.
Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. A little disappointed, but happy for him nonetheless.
More names passed, and Malfoy went to Slytherin, as expected, shooting Harry an unreadable look as he walked off.
"Potter, Harry."
The moment his name was spoken, the room fell into complete silence.
A ripple of whispers spread through the hall as every eye turned toward him. Harry stepped forward unfazed by the murmurs. He sat on the stool, and before he could even adjust his posture, the Sorting Hat was plopped onto his head.
"Ahhh, a voice murmured in his ear. Harry Potter. I've been expecting you."
Harry nearly flinched, but the Hat chuckled. "No need to be alarmed. You're a curious one, aren't you? But… oh…"
The Hat went silent for a moment.
"How peculiar. You're shielding your mind, boy. A natural Occlumens? That's a rare gift indeed. Makes my job a bit tricky, though."
Harry tensed. Occlumens? That word… it tugged at something in his memory. He hadn't heard it before, but it still felt oddly familiar.
"I can sort you, but you must relax, the Hat urged. You're too guarded, too closed-off. Open your mind a little, let me see who you truly are."
Harry hesitated but took a slow breath, easing the tension he hadn't realized he was holding.
The Hat hummed in approval. "That's better. Now, let's see… Oh, yes, there's intelligence, a sharp mind always asking questions. You devour knowledge, don't you? Not just for power, but for understanding. That's Ravenclaw material, no doubt about it. But…"
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.
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"You have ambition as well. A drive to be more than what others expect of you. There's cunning, too—oh, yes, you're clever enough to thrive in Slytherin. A thirst to prove yourself, to control your fate."
Harry swallowed.
And yet, the Hat continued thoughtfully, "You're different. I've seen Occlumens before, but your magic is… deeper. Older. There's other things inside you, magic I don't fully understand."
The words sent a chill down Harry's spine.
"Ah, but that's for another time," the Hat said, almost amused. "For now, where shall I place you? Slytherin would give you power, Ravenclaw would give you knowledge…"
Slytherin. The thought lingered in his mind. A part of him was tempted by it. He had no fear of ambition, of striving for greatness. But… no.
Knowledge was power. Understanding the world, and uncovering its secrets, was what would allow him to stand on his own.
"Hmm… You would do well in either house, the Hat mused. But I see you've made your choice. Very well, then."
A pause. Then, in a voice that echoed through the Great Hall—
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Hat was lifted from his head, and Harry blinked as applause filled the Great Hall. He made his way to the Ravenclaw table, where Hermione was already seated, beaming at him.
The sorting ceremony continued, but Harry barely paid attention, still turning over the conversation in his head. He wasn't sure what the Hat had meant about his magic, but it had sounded important.
Harry and Hermione took their seats at the Ravenclaw table. Padma Patil smiled at them, Terry Boot introduced himself, and Anthony Goldstein offered a handshake.
At the Gryffindor table, Neville was greeted warmly by an older Weasley, who clapped him on the back.
The feast began, plates filling with food, conversations buzzing around them.
The Grey Lady, Ravenclaw's ghost, glided past the table, watching the first years with an unreadable expression.
Across the hall, Nearly Headless Nick was chatting animatedly with Neville.
As the last bits of pudding vanished from their plates, a hush fell over the Great Hall. Dumbledore stood, his brilliant blue robes shimmering in the candlelight. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the new students before raising his arms for silence.
"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" he began, his voice warm but carrying easily across the hall. "Before we all retire for the evening, I have a few important notices to share."
His gaze swept over the students, and though he still wore his usual grandfatherly smile, his tone grew more serious.
"First and foremost, the Forbidden Forest is, as the name suggests, forbidden to all students. I would advise you to remember that if you value your safety."
Neville swallowed audibly at the Gryffindor table.
"Additionally," Dumbledore continued, "our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors between classes." He gave a light chuckle. "Not that this rule has ever been widely observed."
There were a few scattered laughs from the older students.
Dumbledore's expression then turned unusually grave. "And finally, I must issue a most serious warning: The corridor on the right-hand side of the third floor is strictly out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to meet a most unfortunate end."
Whispers broke out at the tables.
"Is he serious?" Terry Boot muttered at the Ravenclaw table, glancing at Harry.
Harry frowned. Why would a corridor in a school be so dangerous? He glanced toward the staff table, but none of the teachers reacted as if anything were amiss.
Dumbledore let the murmurs settle before his expression lightened again. "Now that the more dire matters are out of the way…" His arms spread wide, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes.
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Laughter rippled through the hall, particularly from the older students.
"And with that, let us all get a good night's rest! Tomorrow, lessons begin."
The Ravenclaws were led away by their prefect, who guided them through the twisting corridors until they reached a tall, arched door with a bronze eagle knocker.
"This is our common room," the prefect explained. "But there's a catch—you must answer a riddle to get in."
She knocked once, and the eagle's beak opened.
"I have cities but no houses, forests but no trees, and rivers but no water. What am I?"
A murmur of thought ran through the group.
Hermione was the first to respond. "A map."
"Correct," the eagle said, and the door swung open.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "We have to answer riddles every time we enter?"
"Yep, Hope you're good at thinking on your feet."
The common room was breathtaking inside. High, domed windows overlooked the vast Hogwarts grounds, and the walls were lined with towering bookshelves.
Soft blue and bronze furnishings filled the space, and above them, a ceiling enchanted to resemble the night sky twinkled with stars.
Harry took it all in, feeling something settle inside him. This was where he belonged.
The students trickled off to their dormitories, and Harry followed, climbing the stairs to the first-year boys' room. He found his trunk already waiting for him at the foot of his bed. Hedwig hooted softly from her perch near the window.
As he lay back, staring up at the canopy of his bed, his mind drifted back to the Sorting Hat's words.
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.
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"A natural Occlumens"
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.
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"Something far older woven into your magic."
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.
.
He didn't know what that meant yet. But he intended to find out.