Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
The first years enter to a room already filled with students at their tables; they stand in the aisle before the sorting hat is brought out and begins to sing the sorting song. When your name is called, you walk up and the hat is placed over your head.
The judgement begins.
**
"What is your most treasured memory?"
"Who knows you best, and why?"
"How would you describe yourself?"
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
Reply to this post with one post only. Include your character's answers to all five questions that the Sorting Hat asks. First years can reply one after the other. They do not need to wait until the sorting hat responds to each individual. This allows for a quicker sorting for the first years. When the sorting hat does respond, it will reply to all previous first years with one post. The more detailed the answers the more accurate the sorting will be. Include the character's thought process and the logic used in their decision making. If your answer does not give enough information to make a judgement call or is very closely tied, a second round may be necessary.
My goal is to reply to this thread to sort first-years at least once every 24 hours!
September 1, 2023 – 5:23 AM
Last modified: September 1, 2023 – 5:27 AM by Tony Lawrence.
This all felt like a dream and Tony was afraid that things would start fading in the edges and he would wake up in his old bedroom in London, the one under his father’s roof. His neck hurt from looking around in wonder, even before the first years were admitted to the Great Hall. Once inside, Tony couldn’t contain a ”Wow!” at the charmed ceiling, made to look like the night sky.
As such, when after several other first years were sorted and his turn came, Tony felt stuck at the first question.
What is your most treasured memory?"
His brain has gone blank, unable to process any memory before all this as treasured. His life hadn’t been bad before, but it had also been bland and lonely. He’d lived a painfully ordinary life, with a strict father who expected him to study well and become a doctor like him one day. He didn’t even have memories of his mother, because she had died giving birth to him, something Tony could never shake away that it was his fault.
This, however, the magic, this new world, was by far the most exciting thing that had happened to him and he felt like his life was finally beginning now.
”I don’t have one now, but I know that I will in the years to come!” Tony replied truthfully in his mind, there was no point in pretending that any of his pre-magic life was at all treasured because it was expected to offer an answer from his past.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
The second question was a tricky one as well. Tony had never had to think so deeply about himself before! Once again, his head went blank. Although he had many friends, he didn’t feel like any of them knew him that well. The family front was bleak as well; his father and sister were distant, his step-mother cordial enough but it was clear she loved her own son more, his half-brother an unpleasant brat. Then came his current caregiver, his Aunt, who had shown him more love and attention from his point of view, but was still something of a stranger to him.
”Myself,” Tony replied to the voice in his head. ”Only I know what is going on in my head, what my needs and desires are. Other people could only make a guess but they would see me from their point of view, so their opinion could diverge from the truth.” An older and more mature Anthony Lawrence might have pondered over for one can not know his true self either, as it was a matter of perception as well.
"How would you describe yourself?"
The next question came as an excellent follow up to his previous answer and Tony was overcome with a sense of guilt. Because as much as he could describe himself, as curious and book-loving, there was always an underlying sense of guilt. For killing his mother with his birth, for, ultimately, being a freak. He was so excited about being a wizard of, course, but the words his father had spoken about that were still an open wound in him.
But this time, Tony didn’t want to admit the truth to the voice, show all the ugliness. He wanted to show that he had it all together. ”My Aunt tells me I am a scholar in the making and I agree. I love learning new things. I would also consider myself friendly and considerate of others.”
His answer hadn’t been given as readily, because although Tony did love reading and learning stuff, he felt somewhat guilty to talk well about himself. What he didn’t want to tell the Voice was that he was a failure, his mother’s killer, a freak and a burden.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
Finally, a question where he wouldn’t have to probe deep into his psyche and process uncomfortable emotions! He perked up in his seat as he began to describe his perfect day: ”Oh I would have my classes and learn so many things about magic and then I would practice it with my friends - with Miss Hyacinth and Mr. Gallivan I met on the boat! I will go to the creatures pen and pet a unicorn, and then make a hippogryph trust me! And after that, I will learn how to brew healing potions and make someone healthy again! And after that me and my friends could even defeat dark wizards!” After he finished describing his day which would likely need 72-hours for him to accomplish all that, another light hearted question followed:
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
”Potions!” was Tony’s immediate answer, because he wanted to make Professor Valenduris, his first contact in the magical world proud, and also because Healers used potions. ”But I also want to learn more about magical creatures… And how to use my wand! Oh, don’t make me pick just one, I am excited for all of them!” He had big plans to brew healing potions, tend magical creatures and defeat evil wizards, so he’d need a well rounded education.
Hyacinth had been in a slightly sour mood that day, not wanting to do anything but pout while she pet Heidi to try and calm herself back down. Each of her siblings were taken to London for their first year so they were allowed to ride the train, to get the full experience of going to Hogwarts for the first time, but not Hyacinth, because her parents were afraid that as delicate as she was with her conditions, she would not fare well and neither of her elder siblings were too keen on babysitting her and would rather just meet everyone on the platform and take the carriages to Hogwarts as they had done since their second year.
She had only managed to cheer up again when she got to see her Great-Aunt Morgan again along with her new friend, Tony Lawrence, on the boats that took them to the castle. As upset as she was about not being able to experience the train ride, she supposed she was still excited about being a student at Hogwarts and getting to spend time with people she befriended. She felt excitement begin to bubble up inside her as they were led through the castle and toward the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony, and perhaps a touch of fear as there were new sounds, smells, and textures that she was not at all used to, plus she had a horrible feeling she’d end up in Hufflepuff, which wasn’t a bad house, but Amarantha told her it was for babies like their ‘pathetic’ elder brother, which she thought was quite mean to say, but it made her feel very uneasy about the house anyway.
It took a long while for her name to be called, and she was getting tired and her legs ached, a bit worried that she’d made a mistake in having her wheelchair sent up to her room rather than have it for the sorting ceremony, but when she finally heard ‘Valenduris, Hyacinth’ she carefully made her way to the hat and placed it on her head, she was startled by the first question.
“What is your most treasured memory?”
Not today! She certainly thought, rather bitterly; today was supposed to be special but once again her stupid disability ruined it for her. She wondered if any of her future classmates were staring at her as she used her wand to guide her around or whispered about how her parents could allow her to come in the first place and the thought made her angry and upset. It was then, her answer popped into her head, “When I got my wand. Everyone probably says something like that - it’s a pretty important thing for a witch to have! But mine is special because it helps me move around the world freely without fear of running into things. It allows me to cast spells to make books easy to read and quills to take notes for me, and even make my wheelchair shrink down to be stored whenever I don’t need it. I think it helps me be able to do things by myself rather than rely on others and it makes me feel less like a baby who needs their mama. It took awhile for me to learn how to use it, of course, I worked on it all summer, but the day I got my wand, I knew I could be by myself a lot more and I would be okay.”
“Who knows you best, and why?”
Hyacinth couldn’t help but furrow her brows at that question, as she really didn’t know the answer to that; she often tried to express her feelings to her mother, her governess, her siblings, but none of them would ever understand the things she went through because they didn’t have the struggles she did. She didn’t have a bad family, however, they all seemed to try their best to understand and offer advice, even if they were making things up as they went, but she wasn’t sure if that really counted as knowing her. She hesitated, then answered, “Maybe my family? Or, perhaps my kitten, Heidi. I tell her everything, I don’t know if she understands me because I don’t speak kitty, but she listens to me, I think. Oh! I also have a diary, my diary knows me really well, ‘cause it writes everything I say, even if I tell it to put a line through it to scratch it out. But that’s not a person, is it? Hmm, I don’t know, Mr. Sorting Hat, sir. I hope I make a best friend who knows me best so I can answer this later.”
“How would you describe yourself?”
“A lady does not brag, boast, or otherwise make a spectacle of herself; she is to be demure, humble, and modest at all times,” she immediately began to quote from her governess’s favorite etiquette book to the sorting hat when asked to describe herself; Hyacinth wondered if this was some sort of trick to make sure that those who were attending Hogwarts would conduct themselves properly now that they were away from their governess, though she did hear she’d still have etiquette lessons while she was here. But, at the same time, she did want to tell the hat a bit about herself, in case it wasn’t a trick at all and the hat just wanted to learn about her. “Well, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone that I was talking about myself, otherwise I’ll be quite cross with you, Mr. Sorting Hat. If you promise, I will say that most adults tell me I’m a graceful, elegant young lady because I do well in most of my princess lessons. I don’t know what they’re actually called, mind you, but I call them my princess lessons because they remind me of princesses in storybooks learning to balance books on their head and dance and such. I also am quite musical - I like to sing and play piano and it makes me happy to hear applause when my parent’s guests hear me play; I want to one day compose my own music. If Mr. Beethoven could compose without his hearing, certainly I can without my sight. I’d also like to think I’m resourceful, speaking of my lack of sight, as I often have to think of new ways of doing things to get the same results as those without my condition, and I suppose that makes me curious too, because exploring the world is different for me than it is for others, and yet I still like to do it. Now, I hope that’s enough of me talking about me because I don’t want to get into any trouble, sir.” She shifted slightly in her seat on the stool, uncomfortable.
“Describe your perfect day from start to finish.”
It was difficult focusing on the next question, because her legs still hurt a bit from standing and waiting so long and she was beginning to feel a bit faint; she couldn’t tell if that was from nerves, her weak constitution, or a combination of the two. But, Hyacinth was determined not to fall off the stool and completely embarrass herself in front of the whole school, especially as she could tell her elder siblings were watching her from their house tables, and she knew her Great-Grandfather at the head table would also be watching; they didn’t deserve to be mocked for her mistake. She tried to refocus, asking the sorting hat to repeat the question and continued on, “A perfect day? Well, the day we went to Diagon Alley as a group was a perfect day, I think. I got to spend time with my extended family, I met a really nice boy who promised to help me with gross potion ingredients and he told me a lot of neat stuff about muggles - I hope to learn more about them from him, I got to get a lot of good advice from my Great-Grandfather, and I got to get a lot of cool supplies for school.” But, perhaps the sorting hat wanted to hear about something that would happen in the future, and not one that had happened in the past, “But, another perfect day, would be anytime I’m feeling up for walking and running around, maybe playing in the snow - oh! And, maybe spending time outside in the sunshine, listening to nature. I love flowers and flower pressing, so maybe sometime when I’m doing some of that stuff, especially if I get to do it with my friends - I hope I make some. But you know what would be really perfect? Mama says I can only go to Hogwarts next year if I do well this year without needing too much help. A perfect day would be graduating from Hogwarts, because that would mean I did it; I made it through all seven without being too sick.”
“What class are you most excited about? Why?”
At this point in the sorting, Hyacinth’s face was going a bit pale, but her knuckles were even whiter as she gripped her stool, still determined not to fall over; soon enough, she reminded herself, she would be sorted into a house and she would be sitting with her housemates and get something to eat - she always felt better after she got something in her system. Her face lit up when this question was asked, because it felt a lot easier than the others, “Potions, of course! My big sister, Amarantha, is the president of the potion’s club and my Great-Grandfather teaches the class; obviously Potions is in my blood and I just know I’ll do well. I’ve observed them brew things all my life and read their books about advanced stuff, though I only understood some of it, admittedly, but I know I’ll catch up to them. But, other classes, definitely I want to take Muggle Studies when I can, because I’m quite interested in them now, and I’d like to learn more about how they’re different from us. Mr. Ollivander told me that my wand has an affinity for healing spells, so whatever class teaches those, I’d like to take. I want to see if I have to practice them more or if my wand really makes it easier.” Truthfully, she was excited about all her classes, well, except for flying, which she was terrified of since she couldn’t see the ground below her and would be relying on her tight grip on her broom, and maybe astronomy, because she’d never be able to see the stars, but she would figure out a way to do them anyway.
The Sorting Hat looks inside your head, figures out where you best belong.
This had always been entirely abstract to Pippa, but as the voice roared to life within her mind, she was struck by a possessing fear: what if it told everyone what she had done? She could feel her pulse begin to flutter.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
I suppose when I transitioned to a governess, she decided, doing her utmost not to think about the incident, the only memory that sprang to mind. She was only eleven years old, for Merlin's sake; how was she expected to have lived enough to 'treasure' any memory?! I liked being thought of as more mature than I had been.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
No one will ever understand me half so well as I understand myself.
This answer came easier, more quickly and fluidly. She was not close to either parent, not really. Likewise, Pippa had very little in common with her siblings. She supposed, on paper, she was closest with Forsythia (who had already been sorted—what sort of answers had her cousin given?), but did the other Miss Rowle actually know her, when it came down to brass tacks?
"How would you describe yourself?"
Pippa was beginning to grow agitated. She did not like the notion of something poking about in her head, speaking to her, judging her. It felt like a violation, one that would not end until she had done what was expected. She was a hostage, she was being blackmailed, she—intelligent, deliberate, and driven.
Those were all good things to be, were they not? Well, only one of them had ever been actively encouraged by the staff in charge of her upbringing, but still. She was clever, of course, and had always sought to work towards her goals, even those that did not come immediately to her.
Oh, and feminine, I suppose. Right. The paramount virtue she was expected to demonstrate. She probably should not forget that.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
Is any day when this interrogation is over an option, she could not help but wonder, squirming minutely beneath the hat.
I suppose I rise, breakfast, perhaps do some magic? Philippa Rowle was a young girl of wealth. Her days were prescribed, her hobbies prescribed. Oh, she had creativity in her, but even it was flummoxed by this exercise in a freedom she was very unlikely to possess. What sorts of people came through the school, she wondered, if these were the questions asked of her by the Sorting Hat?
Or, it struck her, maybe these questions were only for her—designed to challenge her, to pull at her weaknesses, her insecurities, to break her down into her fundamental pieces and—no, that couldn't be it. It was a hat. A talking hat, an invasive hat, but a hat nonetheless.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
I don't much like getting my hands dirty, she admitted, but I do like plants—perhaps herbology? Or defence against the dark arts, for one must always be able to look after oneself.
After all, just as no one would ever know her as well as she knew herself, Pippa expected no one would ever take interest in her well-being in the same capacity, too.
This was the moment that would decide whether Parthenope would be separated from her twin at night. They had never been far from one another, sharing a bedroom even now, even after moving out of the nursery and into their own room. Hogwarts was, in that way, the most terrifying place for the twins. The possibility of such lasting separation was horrifying. Parthenope put on a brave face — she had to. Pen would be distraught if it came to it, and it would be up to Parthenope to set things up.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
There were more than Parthenope could count — and in every one, her sister was right there. The first time she remembered meeting a cat. Last Christmas. But the most precious, she would have to say, was more recent than most of them — their shopping trip to Diagon Alley, with all the first years in the Valenduris family and Mr. Lawrence. Though she knew it wouldn't be Pen's most treasured, Parthenope couldn't help but think of it as a good day. The best day so far. Hyacinth and Morgan and Penelope and then Mr. Lawrence too, and Papa was there. Family.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
There was only one answer Parthenope could give. My twin sister. Who else could know her as well as Penelope?
"How would you describe yourself?"
Loyal was the first word that popped into her head — she had always been there for her sister, and her family was the most important thing to her. After a beat, she conjured the words kind, adventurous, and friendly.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
The most perfect day. Something Parthenope had never considered. Quickly, though, something formed in her mind. Waking up with her twin sister, learning new magic, and going for a good long ride on horseback — her twin with her the whole day. She couldn't see anything without her sister, even though some part of her subconsciously knew they couldn't be together always and forever. One day, they would marry, move out of the Valenduris house, and have families of their own. Or something bad would happen.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
How could Parthenope look forward to any class more than her Papa's Potions class? Well. She knew there was a class where she could learn to take care of magical animals. But she also knew that class was some ways off for her. So for now, Potions would do.
Oh sweet Merlin's beard, this was IT! Ella was a ball of nervous excitement bouncing on the balls of her heels waiting every so patiently for her turn. Fortunately it came pretty quickly! She waved at the boys as she saw them, and the girl from Diagon Alley last month too! Hopefully this wouldn't be too bad!
"What is your most treasured memory?"
I think my most treasured memory is getting my first broom! My Mum and Papa got it for me when I was little. Flying is my absolute favorite thing ever and though I couldn't go very high, I did zoom around the backyard and I was hooked right away. I can't imagine life without flying!
"Who knows you best, and why?"
I feel like I should say my Papa, but I think it's Mum. Maybe Flopsy... no definitely Mum. Even though she's technically my step-mum, she's been there for as long as I can remember. She just gets me! Da tries a little too hard sometimes, but I think it's because he wasn't quite ready to be a father when I was born, or so Mum says sometimes. I really do want to be just like Mum when I grow up.
"How would you describe yourself?"
Um? Responsible, caring, I have a lot of younger siblings, there are seven of us, so I make sure to help out as much as I can. But I do like to adventure! I love being outside and trying new things, meeting new people and even new food! I like people a lot, I think I'm pretty easy to get along with, I have a lot of friends already, so I think that's good. This is my first time away from home like this so I'm a little nervous, but having friends around helps!
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
My perfect day, starts by not getting woken up by babies crying, but the twins are getting older so it's not so often anymore. I do like to help in the kitchen, but mostly setting the table and helping my sisters and brother get their food, then I eat mine. If I'm lucky lessons are short and I can escape into the garden with Flopsy and take an adventure on my broom. No flying ban in Hogsmeade would be nice. I love flying on my broom around the park, staying away from the lake now, but it's so much fun! I like to visit with my friends and climb trees or skip stones. Any way to keep busy. Then I could come home and read for a little bit with Mum and when Papa gets home we usually play a game. I'd want roast for dinner with potatoes, I love potatoes and then maybe a late bedtime, after all of my sisters and brother are in bed, because I'm the oldest and I should get to stay up the latest. Yeah, that sounds good.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
I think I'm looking forward to the practical classes the most, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology. I'm a little nervous about potions, I'm kind of a mess in the kitchen. Oh! I'm really looking forward to Astronomy! I think the stars and planets and constellations are so interesting! I like the stories behind them too! Flying of course... well maybe I'm just excited for everything but History of Magic, both Mum and Papa say it's boring and I don't sit still too well.
The room was so crowded. So many voices bounced throughout the room and whatever braid had been placed in her hair at the beginning of the day was long gone now. The governess had mercifully kept it simple before she had left, knowing she'd be too restless today and that if it had been too complicated, she likely would have hurt herself tugging and pulling on her hair. She'd been tugging and pulling through the day. The walk to the boats, being in the boats, and now this. With each sorting, certain tables cheered, and Pen had to cover her ears with a grimace. By the fourth round, she'd began making noises of discontent and shuffling her feet. While she wanted to take her twin's hand, the idea of touching anything made her stomach churn and her skin crawl.
By the time her own name was called, she had not been paying attention to any of the sorting's thus far. What had her twin gotten? She couldn't bring herself to look and instead quietly shuffled forward. She scrunched her nose as the hat was placed upon her disheveled hair.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
The voice felt so startling. She wanted to turn to papa and beg that he take it off. It took everything in her to not burst into tears. She tried to think. Memory? She bit her lip and played with the hair on her shoulder. "Um... the first time I successfully made bread? It was so quiet, the staff had not come down for the morning yet. I knew I wasn't supposed to be there, but it was so calm. Just me and the ingredients." This helped her calm a bit. She bit her lip, though stopped playing with her hair as her shoulders started to loosen.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
"My twin." There wasn't a moment of thought. Her twin knew her best. Most people were too unsettled by either of them to try to get to know Pen more. Especially Pen. So many people called her odd, even if they weren't trying to say it to her face. Some just had it reflected in their eyes. She couldn't help but think of that for a few moments, rather than finish answering the question. "Did... did you ask something else?" She'd forgotten that there was a why to the question in the first place.
"How would you describe yourself?"
The hat seemed satisfied enough with her last answer, thus moved forward with this question. Describe herself? What was that even supposed to mean? More hair tugging, though Pen didn't even notice that she was doing it at this point. Did the hat want an entire life story? That could take about eleven years of talking. Did the hat have that long? Or her likes? Could someone be defined by their likes? Their hobbies? Their favorite color? "Yellow?" She squeaked to the hat. That was the quickest answer she could think of. It felt like forever before the hat continued.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
Wow. The hat really did want her to talk a lot. It took her a moment to think. Then she began going into great detail about the day she discovered tarot cards. Described each task she had done that day in detail. How she felt, the senses of everything she felt around her. Her sister had been there. They had been at a market that was at magical London. So many sounds, so loud. She had described the loudness. The sounds that had stuck out to her, like the drip, drip, drip from water to the ground on a particular roof. It had rained the night before, so the sound was in plenty of places. But this one building had been particularly loud to Pen. But when she had entered the tent of the seer, it felt like everything had gone quiet. Mama was behind them as the twins went up to the seer and asked a great many questions. She loved asking all of the questions, of seeing cards answer them. They were so pretty. She'd asked about them, wanting every detail. The seer was happy to inform her that tarot cards can look different depending on different artists. Muggles even liked them. Ever since, she has been seeking out as many types of decks that she could get her hands on. She loved them. They spoke to her, in their own way. Pen went on and on. But the seers tent had the most detail, the most joy.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
Oh. She knew she should say Potions. She asks papa so many questions. But how could she limit herself? So many subjects to get lost in. So many new professors to continue to question and be in awe of. She looked forward most towards asking the divination professor anything and everything about tarot cards. She wasn't even sure if she would be taking any other electives, but she wanted to get lost in divination. Alas, she would have to wait a couple of years. Rely on finding older students to try and ask a hundred of questions to. Maybe even get the professor's attention and ask as many questions as she could. "I know papa might be sad that potions isn't my first priority, but I have had years to ask my questions. There's so much more. I suppose, divination. But I want to experience so much more."
This felt like it was taking a little too long... Then the Hat asked another question.
"After you die, how would you like to be remembered?"
Oh um. I think I would like to be remembered as good person. I don't know if I'm going to be a famous quidditch player or not, which would also be really neat, but it doesn't take much of anything to be kind. People remember how you treat them and I try really hard to be nice to everybody.
Hogwarts day one had so far been going quite well. She'd made it to the train station on time. She'd established - if not friends than perfectly acceptable acquaintances that she had ridden her boat with instead of being shuffled away with the ragtag loners. And she'd gotten this far an no one had yet noticed Igor. Admittedly- without an older sibling to tell her otherwise - she hadn't realized she wouldn't be able to stash him anywhere prior to the sorting so as she stood awaiting her turn he was wound against her arm under strict orders not to emerge from her sleeve and she'd slip him fish once the feast started.
And then it was her turn, relatively close to the middle of the pack. The Headmaster called her name and without hesitation she stepped forward. There really was no question. She'd either go to Slytherin- her bets - or Ravenclaw like her father. But right before she reach the hat, Serp froze. Would that hat be able to sense the second presence on her? Would it tell everyone right here and now she'd snuck a snake into the school. While she had no shame in her pet or her abilities, she knew Father didn't like her telling anyone and they'd certainly send Igor home. But refusing made her even more suspicious. So she stepped forwards, turned around, sat on the stool, and let the set the hat on her head. And then it spoke, echoing in her head.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
This one was easy. It was small and golden and she kept it locked away right for moments when she needed it. She pulled out now, so fragile. "I was five. A few days ambefore I had visited Grandpa Barnabas's home. He'd gifted me a snake as a pet. A dragonsnake because he keeps dragons. But the nanny saw and freaked out. She wanted father to get rid of it. But instead I showed him that I could speak to Igor and that he wasn't dangerous. That was the first day Father ever looked at me like i want just some thing but me. Like he was proud I was his daughter."
"Who knows you best, and why?" "Igor," Tinnie stated almost before the hat had even finished voicing the question. "I do know he is just a snake but we tell each other everything. He hears everything that happens to me first. And he's quite good at offering advice." She frowned, and her nose pinched. "Or does it have to be a human? If it has to be a human, then Nanny knows me best. She's always been there."
"How would you describe yourself?"
This time her answer wasn't immediately and she wondered just exactly how the hat worked. Would it see everything in her head? Or only hear what she intentionally told it. Because she didn't want to admit she was desperate for attention or insecure. No, she wanted to present herself differently. She wasn't going to admit that. How weak she was. "I'm clever. I want to know everything. I watch everything. I know how to behave. I want to be in control. And I want what I want."
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
She was less sure about this question. These questions really hadn't been what she'd been expecting. Really, she'd figured the Hat would just know, no prompting needed. She really hadn't thought she'd need to think so much. "I would want gypsy toast," Tinnie started. (She felt absolutely redicoulus for telling a hat what she wanted for breakfast. It was a hat!) "With powdered sugar. We have a head cook but I like when my maid makes them better because she makes it sweeter. And then I take the train with to visit Grandpa Barnabas. He sometimes treats me like a baby which is annoying, but he always acts like I'm important. He shows me all the dragons. And he likes me more than he likes my brothers. So there is that too. For the best day, I get to play with the babies. And then I go home and have dinner with Father and Mother before going to bed."
"What class are you most excited about? Why?" "In regards to what I can take this year?" she asked before falling scilent but the hat didn't answer. "I'm looking forwards to transfiguration because I think it has the most potential uses. And I think I'd quite like to do well in something Father likes, so I look forwards to taking that as well so I can impress him." There was a common reoccuring theme in her answers that she hated to admit and kind of hoped the hat didn't pick up. Her desire to impress her father. But surely everyone here wanted that to? To feel important - needed - to their family? "Eventually? I want to take Care of Magical Creatures. I know it isn't ladylike but it has the best chance of talking about dragons."
Pretties by MJ! Serpentine is a parselmouth, however, this is not public knowledge. She snuck her pet snake to Hogwarts and may occasional wear it. If visible, your first thought is probably jewelry not actual snake.
Nathaniel was buzzing with excitement as they made their way into the Great Hall. The boat ride had been exciting and he had met new people that he was already considering his friends no matter what they personally currently thought of him. He watched as the students before him were called on and he was very grateful that his surname was not too far down the alphabet because it was soon his turn.
He bounded up and the hat was placed on his head. He marvelled at the voice resounding in his head. How trippy!
"What is your most treasured memory?"
Nathaniel was a child with a mostly happy childhood. He had only been six when his father had died. An age that meant he now barely remembered and had bounced back as resilient kids were wont to do. So aside from the moments surrounding when his father had died, he had a lot of happy memories. After sifting through different things such as some adventure he'd had with Toby or Ella, finding a fluffy rabbit in his backyard and attempting to claim it as a bet (and failing), he settled on a memory he had made with his older sister.
"When Cee taught me how to fly! She was not supposed to, you know, but she did it anyway. She also taught me some cool tricks! It was a lot of fun and I like spending time with her even if she sometimes treats me like a baby." Which, obviously, was an affront to his manliness but he could withstand it for Cee's sake.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
Nathaniel wasn't quite sure who he could say knew him best. Everyone knew different sides to him. So perhaps he knew himself best? But even then, Nat was aware that he was always learning new things about himself and what he could do within the world. "Myself. Not everyone sees the same version of me, if that makes sense? But I know myself best because I am the one who is me. No one else is me."
"How would you describe yourself?"
Nat knew how some might describe him but he wasn't quite sure how to word how he personally saw himself. Hm. "I suppose I am very curious and adventerous. I am also very loyal and protective of those that are dear to me. I don't want anyone hurting anyone that I care about. It just isn't nice. I am also very friendly and kind, I think? I do play pranks but I don't do mean ones, I don't think. I just like having fun! I also like to find things out for myself rather than just be told things. That has sometimes gotten me into trouble." Was that enough of a description? Nat decided that it was.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
What was a perfect day to him? Obviously one that included Flying and Quidditch. "I wake up, have a yummy breakfast. Maybe eggs, bacon and treacle tarts. With pumpkin juice. And then I play with Selene for a while and then I go out to town and find my friends and play with them. I would have taken my broom and we would play a Quidditch match in Padmore Park. Because on my perfect day, that stupid flying ban doesn't exist. I staged a protest against that, you know. Because it is stupid. Anyway, after playing for hours, I come home. I have dinner and I will read one of my new books. And then I will have my two chocolate biscuits with a glass of milk. And then maybe Mama will read me and Selene a story before we go to bed." There was more "and thens" he probably would have sprinkled in there but they would only occur to him after he had been sorted and was already settled at his house table.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
It did not take Nathaniel very long to know the answer to this question. "Flying! It is my most favourite thing in the world to do. It's sad that we can only take it in first year when there are so many tech-neats (he was trying to say techniques) and skills one can learn that one year of flying wouldn't cover. I suppose after flying, I might enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts the most. I want to learn spells that help me protect my family and friends!"
"After you die, how would you like to be remembered?"
Well, then. Nathaniel didn't typically spend his time thinking about his death. He was too busy living. He also didn't really know. Maybe as a hero? As someone kind? A protector? Hm. He took a moment to really ponder it over. How did he want to be remembered when he died? "I want to be one of those people that people say 'lit up a room'. Someone that was friends with everybody and did his best to help them. It also wouldn't be so bad if they said I was a Hero. Thought I might have to slay something for that and I don't know what I could slay."
I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me. coding by cherry!
For years Toby's brothers had insisted that the Hogwarts sorting was a life or death account. They had finally admitted it was a hat when Toby took to practicing death monologs in preparation for what he felt was his iminate demise until his mother had begged them to have mercy on him and make it stop. He'd been disappointed at the development. But as he stared back at the hat upon being called up to be sorted, Toby couldn't help but feel disappointed he couldn't show his worth some other way. A hat? Come on, how boring a way to enter Hogwarts.
He sat down on the stool, the hat spilling over his curly hair and it became to speak to him. Well at least that was something.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
The question surprised him, surprised a hat would ask such a question, but then again the hat had to get lonely just by nature of being a hat and one that likely wasn't even on someone's head. Treasured memories probably helped the hat feel as if it's had an adventure of a sort. "My first time at the de Montfault Theatre." His lips curled into an involuntary grin as he thought of that nght. "[i]My godfather took me to see Midsummer Night's Dream and it was the most magical thing I had ever seen." It wasn't strictly true that his godfather had taken him, his godfather had had him there with him and when there were empty seats in the back of the theatre for the performance he'd allowed the antsy five year old to sit and watch. And thus Toby's love of Shakespeare and theatre had begun.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
Well now the hat was just getting a bit too personal. His brothers were all so much older than him that the kinship they shared between them wasn't something he also shared in. His mother hardly knew what to do with him and his father even less. His friends, they knew him, but he didn't feel as if they quite understood him. It felt a bit like a failing to admit it, but he supposed he ought to be truthful, "My godfather. He has been the only one to let me be myself. He's encouraged my love of theatre, and he tolerates me more than anyone else. But he doesn't know me all that well either." And then he thought, rather not considering this whole conversation was taking place through thoughts, "I know myself best."
"How would you describe yourself?"
A self assured smile replaced his furrowed features, "Vibrant!" It was the first word that came to mind, more jumbled into his thoughts after that. "And bold. And curious, I suppose." What else was he supposed to say? Didn't people get to know you on their own. How did he boil the essense of his being down to only a few words. "I'm not afraid to make a point, and I love to learn new plays. I really like to make people smile and try to create for them the magic of that first night at the de Montfault. Oh and I'm very cheerful and optimistic." Do I admit I'm stubborn? Mother always says I am. And lazy, but I don't think I'm lazy, I just don't like doing what she asks. It's always the most boring things Again his thoughts wondered off, forgetting to adress them to the hat or realize the hat could very well hear them.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
"I'd sleep in as late as I'd like." Toby started with zeal. "And then I'd have candy for breakfast. Porriage is so boring. And then I'd flying on a broomstick with the wind racing around me and spend hours looping around. I'd stop for lunch and have pie. Oh! And then I'd work on my scenes and when I got sleepy in the midafternoon I'd go read a play under a tree. And then for dinner I'd meet up with my friends and have a feast! And afterward we'd all go see a play. And then after it was dark we'd all go flying over Padmore Park and play a pickup game of quidditch and I'd get a chance to dramatically save Ella or some more lady like lady from distress. And I'd be able to stay up as late as I like." Toby probably could have eleaborated on this a good deal more if the hat hadn't cut him off with the next question.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
"Flying!" Why would anyone else give a different answer? Flying was one of the best parts of being a wizard. Especially with the ban in place and the fact that they couldn't fly at home, it seemed the perfect class. "[Because why you fly and you feel that wind, that breeze," The hat had likely never experienced this particular joy so Toby felt it was his duty to try to capture the joy and let the hat feel it himself. "It feels like freedom. Like everything falls away until it is simply joy and speed, and the sky around you. Everything melts into a painting below and it feels as if it is just you. And then it's even better when you realize someone else is flying with you! And you can laugh and shout and feel completely unhindered. Flying was almost as good as acting, Toby thought, almost, but not quite. Acting let him try on different personalities, like coats, let him feel a freedom of its own.
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