The Sorting Ceremony {1889} - Printable Version
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The Sorting Ceremony {1889} - The Sorting Hat - September 1, 2019
September 1st, 1889 — The Great Hall, Hogwarts
You're led into The Great Hall of Hogwarts for the first time. You're probably cold and some of you are feeling the effects of the boat ride but the hall is warm and inviting. Candles float above your head and sconces glow cheerfully along the walls. The chatter of the students lulls into a low murmur as they watch your procession. Some of you squirm at the stares that come your way, others welcome them.
Which of these onlookers will be your housemates?
Your group slows to a stop a short distance from what seems to be the staff table. On a wooden stool in front of it sits The Sorting Hat. As you draw to a standstill, the hat introduces itself with a clever ditty that concludes to a round of applause.
The first of you is finally called up to be sorted.
The room seems to hold its breath and the few seconds the hat takes to decide seem endless. Your first classmate is sorted, their new house table clapping gleefully for them.
Before you know it it's your turn.
Which of these onlookers will be your housemates?
Your group slows to a stop a short distance from what seems to be the staff table. On a wooden stool in front of it sits The Sorting Hat. As you draw to a standstill, the hat introduces itself with a clever ditty that concludes to a round of applause.
The first of you is finally called up to be sorted.
The room seems to hold its breath and the few seconds the hat takes to decide seem endless. Your first classmate is sorted, their new house table clapping gleefully for them.
Before you know it it's your turn.
Guess what? No questions! You have but one task this year and it is to write me an essay. I want a big ol' juicy internal monologue. Take inspiration from their surroundings or the events that lead them there. This is a big moment in your character's life, what are they feeling? What is important to them?
Before posting please read over what you've written and make sure your character's personality shines through loud and clear. Get as creative as you want, I need to see into their soul.
In the event that your character gives me grief I may have to hit you up for a second round. We'll see.
Please withhold your post if there are already three posts since the last Sorting Hat post unless you're on your second round. The more posts stack up the longer I will want to procrastinate sorting, I need to do this in bite sized chunks.
Anyway, here's some ambiance to get you in the right headspace.
Re: See Inside — obvs this is just for incoming first years who aren't being pre-sorted.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Alina MacRae - September 1, 2019
She had done it! Finally making it to Hogwarts after all of these awaited years. Years of working hard, finding ways to learn as much as she could before her time at Hogwarts arrived.
The candles above were an amazement to look at, but could not keep Alina O'Malley's attention for long. Soon she was looking at those around her, as they looked at her. She beamed with pride. Determined as ever to make her way in this world of hers. Paving a way for a brighter future for herself, and her family.
Oh, and the glorious hat. The song was a bit silly, and she was more eager to get the sorting over with to make some connections with her fellow housemates. Connections, perhaps finding someone to tutor her. Advancing her skills as she can, though she wasn't careless enough to get herself killed like that Gryffindor girl she had heard about.
Another thing she couldn't wait for, the food. Her family couldn't afford that kind of food, and she had heard that Hogwarts provided excellent quantities of it. Perhaps she could get some in her bag before the end of the year for home, if she was smart about it.
The candles above were an amazement to look at, but could not keep Alina O'Malley's attention for long. Soon she was looking at those around her, as they looked at her. She beamed with pride. Determined as ever to make her way in this world of hers. Paving a way for a brighter future for herself, and her family.
Oh, and the glorious hat. The song was a bit silly, and she was more eager to get the sorting over with to make some connections with her fellow housemates. Connections, perhaps finding someone to tutor her. Advancing her skills as she can, though she wasn't careless enough to get herself killed like that Gryffindor girl she had heard about.
Another thing she couldn't wait for, the food. Her family couldn't afford that kind of food, and she had heard that Hogwarts provided excellent quantities of it. Perhaps she could get some in her bag before the end of the year for home, if she was smart about it.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Hesper Gamp - September 2, 2019
This was it. This was really it. Hogwarts.
Hesper had dreamed so desperately of this moment that it was almost anti-climatic how easy it had been to get there. She had woken up as usual, had breakfast in the nursery as usual, and then side-long apparated to London with her governess and her luggage which wasn't so very usual. From there she'd been dropped off on platform 9 3/4's and next thing she knew she was clambering into a little row boat with a handful of other children she didn't know.
Now she was here, she was finally free, but it suddenly seemed that freedom had a high cost. All of these people she'd have to get to know, the good impressions she'd have to make to get along, what if she didn't like her housemates? What if Aunt Jessamine didn't approve of where she ended up and could her great aunt have her moved to a different house if that was the case? She supposed her greatest fear was not fitting in, it had been so long since she'd spent time with other children her age she wasn't sure she'd remember how to make friends. What if nobody liked her? No, she couldn't think like that, she'd do whatever it took to make friends she wouldn't be left out, not anymore. Anyway, there was always Sirius, if she ended up in Slytherin she'd see him all the time! But then... She hadn't seen Sirius since he'd gone off to school, what if he was too mature and sophisticated to be friends with her now?
Then there were the classes. She had her brand new wand and all the textbooks, but she'd barely opened them and what if it so happened that she was bad at magic? She wasn't very good at her languages, what if it was the same for magic? What if she only excelled in classes like History of Magic? It was all very daunting, so much so that she almost wished the time hadn't come yet so that she could prepare somehow. Almost, but not quite. She would work hard to keep her great aunt happy so she didn't have to leave school early and she would come to love Hogwarts, even if she had to force herself to. It surely wouldn't be all that difficult though, from what she'd seen of the school thus far it was everything she'd heard it was and maybe more.
There were so many questions whizzing around Hesper's mind that she almost missed her name being called out.
She balled her fists up tight, bracing herself for the next couple minutes. I'm going to make friends and be good at my classes no matter where the hat puts me, I won't let a piece of clothing ruin Hogwarts! So what if it puts me in the worst house, what does a hat know anyway? she coaxed herself. I will like it here, I will. And I will make friends and if Sirius doesn't want to know me then I'll... I'll show him! She didn't know what that would involve but it made her feel a little more bold and in control of her fate. Whatever it took she'd make Hogwarts her home one way or another.
Determined not to show fear, she walked forward with her head held high and sat down upon the stool. What had her parents thought when they'd sat here, because she suddenly realized they must have sat on this very stool and worn this very hat. What would it see inside of her head? Could it see everything or just what she wanted it to see? Tell me where I belong, Hat. She furrowed her brow deeply as she awaited the hat's decision.
Hesper had dreamed so desperately of this moment that it was almost anti-climatic how easy it had been to get there. She had woken up as usual, had breakfast in the nursery as usual, and then side-long apparated to London with her governess and her luggage which wasn't so very usual. From there she'd been dropped off on platform 9 3/4's and next thing she knew she was clambering into a little row boat with a handful of other children she didn't know.
Now she was here, she was finally free, but it suddenly seemed that freedom had a high cost. All of these people she'd have to get to know, the good impressions she'd have to make to get along, what if she didn't like her housemates? What if Aunt Jessamine didn't approve of where she ended up and could her great aunt have her moved to a different house if that was the case? She supposed her greatest fear was not fitting in, it had been so long since she'd spent time with other children her age she wasn't sure she'd remember how to make friends. What if nobody liked her? No, she couldn't think like that, she'd do whatever it took to make friends she wouldn't be left out, not anymore. Anyway, there was always Sirius, if she ended up in Slytherin she'd see him all the time! But then... She hadn't seen Sirius since he'd gone off to school, what if he was too mature and sophisticated to be friends with her now?
Then there were the classes. She had her brand new wand and all the textbooks, but she'd barely opened them and what if it so happened that she was bad at magic? She wasn't very good at her languages, what if it was the same for magic? What if she only excelled in classes like History of Magic? It was all very daunting, so much so that she almost wished the time hadn't come yet so that she could prepare somehow. Almost, but not quite. She would work hard to keep her great aunt happy so she didn't have to leave school early and she would come to love Hogwarts, even if she had to force herself to. It surely wouldn't be all that difficult though, from what she'd seen of the school thus far it was everything she'd heard it was and maybe more.
There were so many questions whizzing around Hesper's mind that she almost missed her name being called out.
She balled her fists up tight, bracing herself for the next couple minutes. I'm going to make friends and be good at my classes no matter where the hat puts me, I won't let a piece of clothing ruin Hogwarts! So what if it puts me in the worst house, what does a hat know anyway? she coaxed herself. I will like it here, I will. And I will make friends and if Sirius doesn't want to know me then I'll... I'll show him! She didn't know what that would involve but it made her feel a little more bold and in control of her fate. Whatever it took she'd make Hogwarts her home one way or another.
Determined not to show fear, she walked forward with her head held high and sat down upon the stool. What had her parents thought when they'd sat here, because she suddenly realized they must have sat on this very stool and worn this very hat. What would it see inside of her head? Could it see everything or just what she wanted it to see? Tell me where I belong, Hat. She furrowed her brow deeply as she awaited the hat's decision.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - The Sorting Hat - September 2, 2019
@"Alina O'Malley"
"Hufflepuff!"
Hesper Gamp
"Slytherin!"
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Sunday Fudge - September 2, 2019
The splendor and grandness of the castle would have completely floored Sunday Fudge had she not just taken an unintentional dip in the Black Lake. Her hair, so carefully done by her sister that morning had now lost its curl and was in a matted knot at the top of her head. She did her best to wipe the strands of hair out of her face, however she figured that at this point it was rather useless. Having gotten over the shock of falling into frigid cold water, Sunday was about ready to be done with the night.
As such, she was only awed by the sight before her as opposed to struck speechless.
The fact that she was dripping onto the foyer as they awaited their directions was only slightly annoying for her seeing as she was eager to get into the famed Great Hall that her sisters (and the whole family!) had told her so much about. Plus it was bound to be warm with all the candlelight and the small first year was keen to warm herself. And she was just squirming to see the look on her sibling's faces as she walked into the hall in such a state! Surely she'd get a scolding from both of them, but that fact hardly bothered Sunday at the moment.
There was a whoosh of warm air that buffeted her robes as the doors to the great hall was opened and she was ushered in with the new group of students. As unimpressed as she was determined to be - surely people had exaggerated... – Sunday's mouth popped open in a silent 'O' as she took in the sights. What a massive ceiling! And Holliday and Irene weren't lying when they said it was charmed to reflect the sky outside! Sunday had begun to ponder whatever they did when it rained or was something other than ideal weather when she caught one of her siblings' eye.
Irene! she mouthed, feeling herself skip a step in excitement as she waggled her fingers in greeting at her sister. The look on her face was absolutely gobsmacked - she even looked as if she were about to reflexively tell Sunday to fix her hair, though there was no point in doing so now. Then she closed it and Sunday giggled, snorting a little as she took in the expression. She daren't look towards Holliday, knowing she might even see a stern expression plastered upon her older sister's face.
In avoiding her sister's gazes, she became acutely aware of other student's stares. Admittedly, standing in the middle of the Great Hall in sopping robes would draw attention...including, the boy who threw up over the side of the boat because he got nauseous. Normally Sunday wouldn't mind, however, she found his persistent gaze annoying and soon found herself rather irritated. People staring was one thing, but she felt herself fidget with self-consciousness at the mild attention she was drawing. Putting on her best impression of Irene's steely gaze, she turned to him. "And what are you staring at?" she narrowed her eyes. Before the student could answer, the sound of her name rang through the hall. Sunday Fudge flinched slightly (it was rather reflex of her to do so especially if she knew she was doing something she shouldn't be...say, down at the beach when she should have been working on readings at home) and shot one last glare over her shoulder before heading up to the stool.
Her shoes squished as she took to the stairs, contemplating what house she'd be sorted into. Her family had been sorted into all the houses, so their guess was as good as any, she figured as she observed her siblings. Holliday at the Ravenclaw Table, wise and caring - the very house their mother and father had fallen in love in; Irene at the Slytherin Table - strong and proud and noble; Paxton at the Hufflepuff Table - inquisitive, vibrant and adventurous. There was no one for her to seek at the Gryffindor table, however, her uncle Fisk was a good example as any of them - adventurous, brave and vivacious.
She caught a last glimpse of her family before hat slid over her eyes, plunging her into a world of darkness and muffled noise....
As such, she was only awed by the sight before her as opposed to struck speechless.
The fact that she was dripping onto the foyer as they awaited their directions was only slightly annoying for her seeing as she was eager to get into the famed Great Hall that her sisters (and the whole family!) had told her so much about. Plus it was bound to be warm with all the candlelight and the small first year was keen to warm herself. And she was just squirming to see the look on her sibling's faces as she walked into the hall in such a state! Surely she'd get a scolding from both of them, but that fact hardly bothered Sunday at the moment.
There was a whoosh of warm air that buffeted her robes as the doors to the great hall was opened and she was ushered in with the new group of students. As unimpressed as she was determined to be - surely people had exaggerated... – Sunday's mouth popped open in a silent 'O' as she took in the sights. What a massive ceiling! And Holliday and Irene weren't lying when they said it was charmed to reflect the sky outside! Sunday had begun to ponder whatever they did when it rained or was something other than ideal weather when she caught one of her siblings' eye.
Irene! she mouthed, feeling herself skip a step in excitement as she waggled her fingers in greeting at her sister. The look on her face was absolutely gobsmacked - she even looked as if she were about to reflexively tell Sunday to fix her hair, though there was no point in doing so now. Then she closed it and Sunday giggled, snorting a little as she took in the expression. She daren't look towards Holliday, knowing she might even see a stern expression plastered upon her older sister's face.
In avoiding her sister's gazes, she became acutely aware of other student's stares. Admittedly, standing in the middle of the Great Hall in sopping robes would draw attention...including, the boy who threw up over the side of the boat because he got nauseous. Normally Sunday wouldn't mind, however, she found his persistent gaze annoying and soon found herself rather irritated. People staring was one thing, but she felt herself fidget with self-consciousness at the mild attention she was drawing. Putting on her best impression of Irene's steely gaze, she turned to him. "And what are you staring at?" she narrowed her eyes. Before the student could answer, the sound of her name rang through the hall. Sunday Fudge flinched slightly (it was rather reflex of her to do so especially if she knew she was doing something she shouldn't be...say, down at the beach when she should have been working on readings at home) and shot one last glare over her shoulder before heading up to the stool.
Her shoes squished as she took to the stairs, contemplating what house she'd be sorted into. Her family had been sorted into all the houses, so their guess was as good as any, she figured as she observed her siblings. Holliday at the Ravenclaw Table, wise and caring - the very house their mother and father had fallen in love in; Irene at the Slytherin Table - strong and proud and noble; Paxton at the Hufflepuff Table - inquisitive, vibrant and adventurous. There was no one for her to seek at the Gryffindor table, however, her uncle Fisk was a good example as any of them - adventurous, brave and vivacious.
She caught a last glimpse of her family before hat slid over her eyes, plunging her into a world of darkness and muffled noise....
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Apollo Cartwright - September 2, 2019
The time had finally come - he was to go to Hogwarts. That was, if the Sorting Hat didn't just boot him right out. Though he had shown signs of magic so he doubted that would actually happen. As he had sat on the train, he had sought out privacy, sketching his surroundings with quiet contemplation. At least, until someone had called him a sissy and so Apollo had punched him right in the nose. Not the best start of his Hogwarts career but he had gotten off with a warning from a prefect.
And then had come time for the boats and he had ended up in the same one with the boy from before. What rotten luck! Apollo had spent part of the boat ride planning a million and one ways to torment the other boy if he was going to continue tormenting Apollo and the other half of the time had been spent marvelling at the beauty of Hogwarts as it came into view. He thanked his mind for being able to recall such things - he wanted to sketch it dearly. Perhaps he could after the sorting?
As they were lead into the Great Hall, Apollo looked around with bright, curious eyes. Oh, he wanted to draw this. He clutched his ever present sketchbook against his chest, the charcoal from his sketching during his train ride still staining his fingers. He spotted his cousin Justice at the Ravenclaw table and Clementine over at the Hufflepuff table. Would he join one of them or end up somewhere else entirely? He was sure that all his cousins Rookwood would definitely agree that Hogwarts was better than the St. Mungos Home for Inconvenient Children. The food smelled a whole lot better, that was for sure. Apollo didn't have any grand ambitions when it came to his Hogwarts life. He mostly hoped to be just left alone for the most part.
As he watched the sorting hat sort those with surnames that came before his own in the alphabet, he could not help but wonder how it worked. Well, he was going to learn that someday, wasn't he? He hoped so. He also wanted to know how the ceiling of the Great Hall worked. Everything about Hogwarts so far appealed to his artistic eye. Was there even going to be enough time in his school career to sketch everything? With that curious wonder swirling in his head, Apollo settled onto the stool once his turn came. And now, where would the hat decide he belonged?
And then had come time for the boats and he had ended up in the same one with the boy from before. What rotten luck! Apollo had spent part of the boat ride planning a million and one ways to torment the other boy if he was going to continue tormenting Apollo and the other half of the time had been spent marvelling at the beauty of Hogwarts as it came into view. He thanked his mind for being able to recall such things - he wanted to sketch it dearly. Perhaps he could after the sorting?
As they were lead into the Great Hall, Apollo looked around with bright, curious eyes. Oh, he wanted to draw this. He clutched his ever present sketchbook against his chest, the charcoal from his sketching during his train ride still staining his fingers. He spotted his cousin Justice at the Ravenclaw table and Clementine over at the Hufflepuff table. Would he join one of them or end up somewhere else entirely? He was sure that all his cousins Rookwood would definitely agree that Hogwarts was better than the St. Mungos Home for Inconvenient Children. The food smelled a whole lot better, that was for sure. Apollo didn't have any grand ambitions when it came to his Hogwarts life. He mostly hoped to be just left alone for the most part.
As he watched the sorting hat sort those with surnames that came before his own in the alphabet, he could not help but wonder how it worked. Well, he was going to learn that someday, wasn't he? He hoped so. He also wanted to know how the ceiling of the Great Hall worked. Everything about Hogwarts so far appealed to his artistic eye. Was there even going to be enough time in his school career to sketch everything? With that curious wonder swirling in his head, Apollo settled onto the stool once his turn came. And now, where would the hat decide he belonged?
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Archie Diggory - September 2, 2019
Thoughts of Hogwarts had circulated in the back of his mind since Gertrude set off for school three years ago. Three whole years he'd wondered what school would be like, how nice the professors would be, and more importantly: what he would learn. In the coming years, he’d trade in ratted shoes and late-afternoon adventures with his parents for black robes and wizard hats, and that would be okay… or at least that’s what he’d convinced himself. There was no mistaking the churning in his stomach as he and the crowd of incoming first years walked through the Great Hall, older students—including his sister, wherever she was—watching them with curious eyes.
As the students lined up in rows in front of the four long tables, Archie squirmed his way between the students on the far end and the students in the middle, wanting to attract the least amount of attention as possible from both his new year-mates and older students. He fidgeted as his eyes wandered aimlessly, unsure of what to look at. The students? The professors, who seemed to be staring back? The candles that floated above their heads? No, his gaze instead fell on the mysterious hat that sat on the stool before all of them.
Suddenly, the hat started to talk, which is when his eyes lit up and his mouth fell open into a little ‘o’. His anxiety melted away for a moment and his lips tilted upwards into a little smile. He turned to the person next to him, who seemed to have the same thought and smiled at him cool.
Wicked, he thought as his eyes glanced towards the headmaster, dark and gloomy as he was. He wondered if the man had been the one to cast the enchantment, or if it was one much older and mysterious for modern minds to understand.
Whereas the hat’s existence filled him with glee, its message send the bugs fluttering back in his stomach. He would have to sit atop the stool, in front of everyone, and get publicly sorted. Yikes.
A number of students went up before him, and he watched as the hat shouted out names and then houses. He stood in anticipation as he waited for his own name to be called, all the while figuring out the best pace to walk at and how to avoid smacking arms with the surrounding students. None of it mattered, though. The moment his name was called, his feet seemed to move on their own accord. He walked towards the Hat at a brisk pace and carefully took a seat before placing it on his head.
Put me in the good house, he wished, as though the Hat could hear him.
As the students lined up in rows in front of the four long tables, Archie squirmed his way between the students on the far end and the students in the middle, wanting to attract the least amount of attention as possible from both his new year-mates and older students. He fidgeted as his eyes wandered aimlessly, unsure of what to look at. The students? The professors, who seemed to be staring back? The candles that floated above their heads? No, his gaze instead fell on the mysterious hat that sat on the stool before all of them.
Suddenly, the hat started to talk, which is when his eyes lit up and his mouth fell open into a little ‘o’. His anxiety melted away for a moment and his lips tilted upwards into a little smile. He turned to the person next to him, who seemed to have the same thought and smiled at him cool.
Wicked, he thought as his eyes glanced towards the headmaster, dark and gloomy as he was. He wondered if the man had been the one to cast the enchantment, or if it was one much older and mysterious for modern minds to understand.
Whereas the hat’s existence filled him with glee, its message send the bugs fluttering back in his stomach. He would have to sit atop the stool, in front of everyone, and get publicly sorted. Yikes.
A number of students went up before him, and he watched as the hat shouted out names and then houses. He stood in anticipation as he waited for his own name to be called, all the while figuring out the best pace to walk at and how to avoid smacking arms with the surrounding students. None of it mattered, though. The moment his name was called, his feet seemed to move on their own accord. He walked towards the Hat at a brisk pace and carefully took a seat before placing it on his head.
Put me in the good house, he wished, as though the Hat could hear him.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - The Sorting Hat - September 2, 2019
Sunday Fudge
"Gryffindor!"
Apollo Cartwright
"Gryffindor!"
Archie Diggory
"Ravenclaw!"
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Leif Heaney - September 2, 2019
Gamp, Hester, had just been sorted into Slytherin. Now, it was Leif's turn. It was happening. The moment his parents spoke of. The moment his cousins bragged about. Heaney, comma, Leif was being called up to the Sorting Hat. As he looked out among the four house tables and back at the other first years yet to be sorted, he saw more than a few familiar faces. It was oddly quiet for such a large group of people, and Leif was terrified that they would notice his second-no, fourthhand clothes and the books. Leif had argued against his father for the cheapest things, wanting to save as much as possible for future years. He knew he most likely wouldn't get more years, but he desperately wanted to stay in Hogwarts.
His cousins didn't have seven siblings, like he did. Leif almost skipped over Phoenix in his head, having been used to counting only to Lawrence. Lawrence with his innate magical abilities. Lawrence with his seventh son of a seventh son-ness. Lawrence with the heirloom that was supposed to go to Leif. Leif who wasn't magically talented but wanted nothing more than to become the Minister of Magic some day. Leif who wanted to make a better world for his family, where his eight year old younger brother wouldn't have to go out and do odd jobs just to be confident.
Leif didn't care if his chances for staying a second year at Hogwarts were slim to none. He was willing to take on those odds, to push his brothers out of the way so that he could make things better in the long run, especially Lawrence, whose odds of staying were much better, especially if Leif himself was already working by the time he made it to Hogwarts.
He didn't hate his brothers. He felt a guilty sense of resentment for them, and a little for Phoenix too. If they weren't born, if she didn't live with them, his parents might've been able to afford Pennyworth like his uncle's family. Leif might be able to take his NEWTs. All he wanted to do was take his OWLs. Just make it far enough so that he might be able to get a career in the Ministry. He remembered where his parents had been sorted, felt no strong pull to any of the four houses.
Leif felt odd for that. Should he have a preference? He'd heard other first years, the ones with wealth and security and the ability to make it through all seven years at Hogwarts talking about it. One wouldn't be caught dead wearing the robes of a Gryffindor, while another swore up and down that they had to be sorted there, or they'd be the family disappointment for ages. Leif had looked at all four houses. Slytherin seemed nice enough, and had produced Merlin, a great wizard. Ravenclaw was similar. Hufflepuff also seemed nice enough, for Leif could make connections with people in higher places--even if they only saw him as a pet, it might be enough to convince someone to pay for his passage through fifth year. Gryffindor was the house he was hesitant on, though it might be good still, he thought the house had a reputation for being foolhardy, and certainly didn't want that. However, there was a quality of nobility in bravery.
Leif thought and thought. And thought some more, before he became aware that others were staring. He should sit down, really. He took his seat, to the laughter of a voice he couldn't place, and began to hope.
As the hat was placed on his head, he closed his eyes. He didn't want to see any of his cousins in their houses and think, 'my, I'd like to be in their house.' He could feel it probing around in his mind. Asking him questions he dutifully answered, wondering which house he'd find success in. Leif felt like screaming at it, to just put him in the most successful house, the one where people would look at him, specifically, and say this is a genius, or at least someone who is a good wizard.
Put me somewhere I'll be successful... was Leif's thought.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Georg Striebel - September 3, 2019
Gogo's eyes sparkled with awe as he gazed around the cavernous room around him, over the heads of the procession of fellow first years, scanning the dozens... hundreds of faces turned his way, marveling over the towering ceiling blending in to the evening sky, dotted with the dancing lights of hundreds of candles. The closest he'd ever gotten to the castle before was a breif glance of the tip of a turret over the canopy of the forbidden forest when he'd run away to join Poldi there a couple of years earlier (and even that may or may not have actually just been the tip of a particularly high evergreen tree), but he'd known even then that it would be the greatest place he'd ever been. Still, it was about a thousand times better than he could have ever imagined. To hear Poldi talk about it, the entance in to the sorting was like the solumn march of gladiators into a roman colosseum with every eye preying on their misery, but that was all wrong. He felt more like King Arthur, being harolded into his coronation with loads of other King Arthurs marching in beside him. If he was squinted, he could almost pretend that the ratty, old wizard's hat the professor set down on the stool was a crown.
It was even grander, though, as, soon, a big rip opened up on its... face? Yes, he supposed it must have been a face, and started talking. "Wow!" he blurted out audibly, loudly enough for a couple of other people next to him to glance over at him. Why hadn't Poldi mentioned that?! Everything, the station, the train ride, the boat ride, it had all come out to be just about the best adventure he'd ever had in his life, even better than the tiger! He had hoped that the giant squid might have come out of the lake while they were on the boats, but the hat more than made up for that. It even sang! Besides, he would still have time to see the squid, seven years of time as long as he studied hard and got good marks, as long as he didn't waste their money (and made sure he didn't get himself expelled). He'd have to be really careful never to get caught doing anything he wasn't supposed to.
With a glance up at the teacher's table, he threw a friendly smile at a rather severe-looking teacher who caught his eye. With a surname that started with S, he had plenty of time on his hands. He might as well start getting people on his side now. It didn't hurt that he was particularly good mood. This had to be the greatest place on Earth. It felt like his heart was floating in his chest with cheer and excitement. He could probably win over a Golem in the mood he was in now (and everyone knew they were the most stone-faced of magical creatures.... if they were even actually real).
He had never really understood how Mutti could have given all this up or how Poldi could have been homesick here. He definitely din't understand it any better now. He watched, enthralled, as person after person was called up to the stool, had the hat placed on their heads and waited, sometimes a long time, sometimes a little, until the hat shouted out the name of their houses and they walked beaming, or at least relieved down to their new houses tables. He looked around the crowd and threw a few encouraging smiles to a few nervous-looking classmates, his fellow late alphabet surnamers. He waited, and waited, until, finally, he heard his name ring out theough the hall. Eagerly, he rushed down the aisle between the tables, managing to control himself just enough not to run as he climbed the stairs and plopped himself down on the stool with a pounding heart. Only now, did he feel nervous. Which house would he be in? They all sounded good, really. Smart Ravenclaws, brave Gryffindors (which he had to admit, sounded particularly exciting), hard-working Hufflepuffs, ambitious Slytherins... Poldi wasn't all that mad about that last group. He said they weren't all so nice to muggleborns like Mutti, but Poldi also said the school wasn't as good as home, which obviously wasn't true, so he wasn't sure how worried he was about that. He definitely didn't mind the idea of being right next to the kitchens like Poldi had been, though, or way high up in a tower. All he had to do was wait a few more moments and he would know where he would be for his whole next seven years. He felt like he might throw up... but in a good way if that was possible.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Geoffrey Campbell - September 3, 2019
Geoffrey was mildly impressed by the Great Hall decorations but didn't want to show that. Nor how much the Great Hall was making him miss home. While his home didn't have the same set up, it still had the same... homey feeling to it. He didn't know how else to describe it.
He had felt a little bad for the girl who had fallen into the lake on the boat ride over, but she should have been more careful if she hadn't wanted to go swimming with a squid and merpeople.
As he looked around at the houses, he could hear the whispers of his eyes and he had to fight back a blush. They were changing, weren't they? He could almost feel the changes in his eyes.
He just knew that they were changing, but he wasn't sure what color they were at the moment. Were they blue for Ravenclaw? Gold for Hufflepuff? Red for Gryffindor? Maybe they were green for Slytherin?
He hadn't wanted to make such a public statement of his abilities! He wished they were subtle, like being a Seer. Nobody would know if he were a Seer but everyone knew he was a Metamorphmagi now!
... if they were paying attention. Which, really, who wouldn't be watching the first years get sorted? He must hoped everyone would forget about his eyes once the next person got sorted.
He had thought he wanted Slytherin, and nothing else, but now that he was actually at Hogwarts, he wasn't sure. Perhaps that was why his eye colors were changing. He hoped that was why. Him not knowing what he wanted.
Just make this quick! Sort me already! he told -- begged -- the hat upon his head. He wanted this experience to be over with already.
He had felt a little bad for the girl who had fallen into the lake on the boat ride over, but she should have been more careful if she hadn't wanted to go swimming with a squid and merpeople.
As he looked around at the houses, he could hear the whispers of his eyes and he had to fight back a blush. They were changing, weren't they? He could almost feel the changes in his eyes.
He just knew that they were changing, but he wasn't sure what color they were at the moment. Were they blue for Ravenclaw? Gold for Hufflepuff? Red for Gryffindor? Maybe they were green for Slytherin?
He hadn't wanted to make such a public statement of his abilities! He wished they were subtle, like being a Seer. Nobody would know if he were a Seer but everyone knew he was a Metamorphmagi now!
... if they were paying attention. Which, really, who wouldn't be watching the first years get sorted? He must hoped everyone would forget about his eyes once the next person got sorted.
He had thought he wanted Slytherin, and nothing else, but now that he was actually at Hogwarts, he wasn't sure. Perhaps that was why his eye colors were changing. He hoped that was why. Him not knowing what he wanted.
Just make this quick! Sort me already! he told -- begged -- the hat upon his head. He wanted this experience to be over with already.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - The Sorting Hat - September 4, 2019
Leif Heaney
"Slytherin!"
Georg Striebel
"Gryffindor!"
Geoffrey Campbell
"Slytherin!"
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Jasper Diggory - September 5, 2019
Jasper’s heart echoed in his ears as he followed the mass of first years into the castle. The day had brought about one surprise after another, and his body felt as if it were still reeling from both his first train journey and a trip aboard a magical boat. Both had been wondrous and enough to keep him dreaming for years to come. He couldn’t even fathom what was meant to come next.
While on the Hogwarts Express, he had quietly eavesdropped as an older student described a marvelous feast and some type of sorting ceremony. It seemed they were meant to be put into houses, and the poor muggleborn knew so little of Hogwarts that he thought the boy meant literal houses. He couldn’t seem to understand why they would need to live in cottages if Hogwarts was meant to be a castle. An incredibly large castle, by his judgement.
The poor boy had been unable to close his mouth ever since he got his first glimpse of Hogwarts. It only dropped wider as they spilled through the front doors and finally filed into the Great Hall. Jasper nearly bowled over the girl ahead of him when he caught sight of the ceiling. Where was the roof?! Hadn’t they gone inside? And were those candles really floating?
Each question bubbled silently in his head, unwilling to voice them so as not to sound idiotic in front of his new classmates. If there was one thing his father had taught him it was to always make a good first impression.
The time for marveling at the ceiling ended abruptly. Their attention was drawn to a hat that spoke. Jasper pawed at his eyes and quickly glanced at the other children to try and determine if they too saw what was happening. It seemed a few others were as amazed as he, so he allowed his neutral expression to take on one more akin to shock. The hat was going to choose where they each lived?
Ever since he had received his letter, inviting him to attend Hogwarts, Jasper had started to question his sanity. Was he like the man Papa saw last Spring and had to send off to an asylum? He didn’t think he heard or saw things that weren’t there. In fact, the youngster thought his life had been quite ordinary up to this point. He lived a quiet life in an equally quiet village helping his father take care of his many patients. He had very little friends, but that never seemed to bother him. The only thing he thought was odd about himself was his extra arm. But his father always called it a ‘medical marvel.’
Then again, he did have a habit of being present when strange things happened, but he had boiled that down to rotten luck.
It wasn’t until Professor Darrow showed up on their doorstep that certain moments became more clear. He was responsible for the oddities. Plain, ordinary Jasper Diggory.
Maybe he really was mad after all. Why would he, of all people, be magical in any way? Perhaps, Hogwarts was actually an asylum, and his parents were pretending it was some sort of school. Maybe his uncle wasn’t actually a wizard, but a patient there. Does insanity run in families?
But his parents had seen Professor Darrow and spoken to him. His mother seemed terrified; his father, disappointed. He couldn’t have dreamed all of this up. Other people didn’t speak to those you create in your head. ...Right?
”Diggory, Archibald.”
Jasper started to move forward, only to stop abruptly when he realized the hat meant another boy. For a moment, he worried that he had received this boy’s letter by mistake, but the logical part of his brain told him that there had to be other Diggorys in this world.
After the hat shouted, ”Ravenclaw!”, and the other Diggory trotted off to his new table, it was his turn.
Trying to appear as if he wasn’t nervous, Jasper slowly walked up to the stool and sat lightly upon it. Worriedly, he pretended to itch at his side, self-conscious that his clothing might have shifted, but everything seemed normal.
The voice that was suddenly speaking inside his head made the poor lad’s eyes go round. It was freaky enough that the hat spoke out loud, not to mention in his mind. To the sorting hat, he simply thought, "Put me where you think is best. I don’t know which house that is supposed to be.” He just hoped, if he wasn’t banished to some sort of asylum, that he could still become a doctor. Did wizards have those?
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - The Sorting Hat - September 8, 2019
Jasper Diggory
The hat seems to be taking somewhat longer to make a decision than it did with other students but you're not a hat stall. Yet.
Have your character recall an event that made a particularly deep impression upon them. Describe in detail.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Jasper Diggory - September 8, 2019
Jasper gulped nervously, though he kept his body still to try and pretend as if he weren't phased. The hat seemed to be taking longer than it had for others. Was it because he hadn't decided on a house beforehand? Was that how this worked? Nobody had exactly informed him what the pros and cons to each house was so he could make a decision. Though, even if he had that information, would he even be able to choose?
The last time he remembered being so apprehensive was when his father had taken him out to the McCallister place on a house call. It was one of the first occasions Papa had allowed him to tag along. The only information they had received was there had been some sort of accident. Papa had even allowed him to take the reins so he could prepare his kit while they raced through the village. Jasper has been petrified that they would crash, but their team of horses was well accustomed to dashing off on emergency visits.
When they arrived at the farm, a sobbing Mrs. McCallister had lead them to the barn where Mr. McCallister laid wailing on a bed of red tinged straw, his eldest son cradled in his arms. The boy, a classmate of Jasper's, was nearly the color of snow, his left arm gushing blood, bone exposed. It had taken so long for the Diggory pair to arrive that the young boy had become unconscious. The father was also injured, having jumped in the cattle pen to save his son.
Jasper's father had sprang into action, separating son from father so he could better assess the injury. Jasper hovered nearby, handing his Papa every item he requested from his kit. He'd never seen such a sight, and it soured his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to dash away from the place and return home to his mother, but he couldn't do that. Sammy needed them. His arm had been impaled, bone shattered to the point that the lad's arm was beyond saving.
While his Papa wasn't a surgeon, sometimes those duties fell to him, and he decided the best course of action was to amputate. Jasper was tasked to hold poor Sammy's arm while his father hacked at the bone with a crude saw. All he could taste was bile in his mouth as the minutes ticked by. The Diggory duo worked to save the boy, but it was to no avail. Only an hour after they arrived, Samuel McCallister succumbed to the shock caused by his injury.
Unable to continue to look at the boy's dead body, Jasper left his father, intent on trekking through the woods toward home. He couldn't believe they weren't able to save him. What was the point in being a doctor if people still died? Would they have been able to help Sammy if they had arrived faster?
The incident had stirred something in Jasper that he couldn't quite describe. He wanted, needed, to learn how to save people. It very quickly became his life goal to follow in his father's footsteps, but with the hopes to be even better. He started asking questions, so many that his Papa had to limit how long they spoke of medicine. When he was limited, he grew quiet and projected his inquiries inward.
Ever since he had learned he was a wizard, he hoped that magic would be another avenue to achieve his goals. Or at least satiate some of his curiosity. He didn't want people with their entire lives ahead of them to perish from what he thought should be fixable.
RE: The Sorting Ceremony - Soo-Jin Proudfoot - September 10, 2019
Her brother had been true to his word: he had stayed with her on the train, rather than go off with his friends, which had done a world of good for young Soo-Jin's nerves. She had not been on a train since the family's move to Irvingly, and it had been one item on a long list of things about which the first year was anxious. Still, as the train had pulled into Hogsmeade Station, he had deposited her into a group of other first years and disappeared and with him, any feelings of calm the young witch still possessed.
That anxiety came to a head as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her own, Soo-Jin wondering vaguely if it were immune to lice—surely it must be, if it was magic?
Her brother had, of course, told her of the Sorting Hat, that it could see within her to know where she was best suited. Frankly, this was a terrifying notion to Soo-Jin, who had spent enough time at church with Grandmother to fear eternal damnation if anyone accused her thoughts of being wanting. As the Hat did whatever it was it did, the girl tried to focus intently upon good things: kindness, obedience, compassion, a desire to be successful in school, a desire to uphold her family's honour.
It might have been more successful had she not been distracted—a laughing boy at the yellow table (was he laughing at her?!), the clearing of an old man's throat. And that ever-present nervousness: she could not do well for her English was poor; she would not make friends because she was different; and what if candles were not permitted after lights out? She thought of her brother's textbooks, full of incomprehensible things and hidden wonders—wonders she was not certain she was worthy of attaining.
Could it even understand her thoughts, if they were in Korean? If the Ministry of Magic had to employ human translators, surely hats could not be imbued with such ability!
She had not told anyone but Jung-He how nervous she was to attend the school, how content she was to remain at the Irvingly schoolhouse and live a quiet life. Neither Umma nor Grandmother would have understood, for both were forces to be reckoned with in their own ways—Soo-Jin was not a force, to be reckoned with or otherwise! No, she was just mouse—a church mouse, if Juliet Proudfoot were to have her way—one that was far from home and very nervous about it.
Soo-Jin knew she would need to work hard to be successful here. She just did not know if she possibly could work hard enough.
That anxiety came to a head as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her own, Soo-Jin wondering vaguely if it were immune to lice—surely it must be, if it was magic?
Her brother had, of course, told her of the Sorting Hat, that it could see within her to know where she was best suited. Frankly, this was a terrifying notion to Soo-Jin, who had spent enough time at church with Grandmother to fear eternal damnation if anyone accused her thoughts of being wanting. As the Hat did whatever it was it did, the girl tried to focus intently upon good things: kindness, obedience, compassion, a desire to be successful in school, a desire to uphold her family's honour.
It might have been more successful had she not been distracted—a laughing boy at the yellow table (was he laughing at her?!), the clearing of an old man's throat. And that ever-present nervousness: she could not do well for her English was poor; she would not make friends because she was different; and what if candles were not permitted after lights out? She thought of her brother's textbooks, full of incomprehensible things and hidden wonders—wonders she was not certain she was worthy of attaining.
Could it even understand her thoughts, if they were in Korean? If the Ministry of Magic had to employ human translators, surely hats could not be imbued with such ability!
She had not told anyone but Jung-He how nervous she was to attend the school, how content she was to remain at the Irvingly schoolhouse and live a quiet life. Neither Umma nor Grandmother would have understood, for both were forces to be reckoned with in their own ways—Soo-Jin was not a force, to be reckoned with or otherwise! No, she was just mouse—a church mouse, if Juliet Proudfoot were to have her way—one that was far from home and very nervous about it.
Soo-Jin knew she would need to work hard to be successful here. She just did not know if she possibly could work hard enough.