Chapter 4: The Sorting Hat
The journey to Hogwarts was nothing short of magical—and it wasn't even over yet.
After hours of rolling countryside and laughter-filled conversation, the Hogwarts Express began to slow. A voice rang through the train cars:
> "We'll be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train—it will be taken to the school separately."
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elias quickly changed into their school robes. As Elias slipped on his, he caught his reflection in the compartment window. He still wasn't used to it—the clean clothes, the wand tucked into his belt, the look of belonging. Yet in his eyes, there was something else. A shimmer of possibility. A flicker of power he didn't understand.
---
Outside, a lantern bobbed in the darkness, held by a giant of a man Elias had glimpsed back in Diagon Alley.
"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!" the man called—Hagrid, someone had said his name was.
Elias and his friends followed the crowd of new students, nerves building with every step. The looming outline of Hogwarts Castle rose in the distance, its towers glowing like ancient watchfires above the black lake.
"Boats, four to a boat!" Hagrid called.
Elias climbed in with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The little boat rocked gently as it pushed off from the shore, gliding silently across the glassy water. Above them, the castle shimmered with light and mystery.
Elias couldn't look away.
He had never seen anything so beautiful.
---
Inside the castle, the first-years waited in a grand stone chamber lined with torches. A stern woman in emerald robes introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and explained the Sorting Ceremony in clipped tones.
As they waited, Harry leaned closer to the others and muttered, "What if I'm put in the wrong house?"
Ron gave a grimace. "Anything but Slytherin."
Elias said nothing. He didn't know what the right house was. He just hoped—for once—he wouldn't be alone.
Then they were led into the Great Hall.
It took Elias's breath away.
Four long tables stretched beneath a ceiling that reflected the night sky—stars, clouds, and a pale moon drifting lazily. Candles floated in midair, bathing the hall in warm golden light. At the front stood a single stool, and resting atop it… a patched, worn hat.
Then came the voice.
> "Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see…"
The Sorting Hat sang its clever, cryptic song, describing each House in turn—bravery, loyalty, intelligence, ambition—before falling silent with a quiet rustle of fabric.
One by one, names were called.
> "Granger, Hermione!"
"Gryffindor!"
> "Weasley, Ronald!"
"Gryffindor!"
Then:
> "Potter, Harry!"
A hush fell across the hall.
Harry walked slowly toward the Sorting Hat, pale and stiff. He sat, the hat lowered over his eyes—and everything around him vanished into darkness.
> "Hmm… tricky. Very tricky," the Sorting Hat murmured in his ear. "Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either… and a thirst to prove yourself. Oh yes. That's interesting…"
Harry stiffened. It felt like the hat was peering through him.
> "And talent. You've got potential, oh my yes… and there's something else. A hunger. Not quite ambition… but drive."
"Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness, you know. No doubt about that."
Not Slytherin, Harry thought desperately. Not Slytherin, not Slytherin!
> "Not Slytherin, eh?" the Hat mused. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It's all here in your head… and Slytherin will help you on the path."
Please, Harry begged. Anywhere but Slytherin.
There was a long pause.
> "Well… if you're sure… better be—GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor table exploded in cheers and applause. Harry yanked off the hat and hurried to his new House. Ron and Hermione welcomed him with beaming faces, but Harry barely noticed.
He couldn't stop thinking about what the Hat had said.
He could've been in Slytherin.
Did that mean something was wrong with him?
He glanced across the hall, where Draco Malfoy sat sneering beneath the green-and-silver banner.
No, Harry thought. I made the right choice.
Still, the Hat's final whisper haunted him:
> "You could be great…"
---
Then came the name:
> "Thorn, Elias!"
Elias felt everything inside him clench. He stepped forward slowly, heart hammering. His palms were slick with sweat. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
As he sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat was dropped gently over his head.
Darkness.
> "Ahhh… very interesting," the Hat murmured in his mind. "Curious… very curious indeed."
Elias froze. It felt like a thousand hands rifled through his thoughts, his fears, his dreams.
> "You have talent. Power. And… something more. Secrets buried deep. Dark things, but not evil. No… you fear them. You resist them."
Elias's heart pounded.
> "A thirst for knowledge. An eye for truth. A mind always questioning… oh yes, you belong in—"
> "Wait…" the voice lowered. "You could do well in Slytherin… or even Gryffindor. You're brave, whether you admit it or not."
I don't want power, Elias thought suddenly. I just want to understand. To protect others. To be more than what I came from.
> "Indeed," the Hat said, sounding amused. "You seek wisdom. You learn fast… and your power runs deeper than you know."
A pause.
> "Better be… RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaw table applauded with polite enthusiasm.
Elias removed the hat and stood on shaky legs. As he made his way to the blue-and-bronze table, a boy with sandy hair and dreamy eyes smiled at him.
"Hi. I'm Terry Boot. Welcome to Ravenclaw. Did you know the ceiling in our dorm reflects the sky in real time? I charted it once!"
Elias blinked—then gave a quiet smile.
"Thanks."
---
A Quiet Night Among the Stars
After the feast—where Headmaster Dumbledore delivered a whimsical speech ending with the words "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"—the Ravenclaws were led up many staircases to their tower dormitory.
Their common room was circular, with bookcases carved into the walls and a domed ceiling painted with stars. Elias's new roommates—Terry, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Stephen Cornfoot—were abuzz with excitement about spells, wands, and what classes might be like.
Elias joined in quietly, nodding and smiling.
But when the others drifted to sleep, he remained awake, lying beneath the enchanted sky. The soft glow of starlight painted silver lines across his blankets.
The Sorting Hat's words echoed in his mind:
> "Secrets buried deep… dark things… power…"
He stared at the ceiling, his hands clenched lightly around the edge of his blanket.
He was in Ravenclaw now. Among people who valued knowledge and truth.
But still he wondered…
What else was buried inside him?