#fandom me is still alive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lifeofkaze · 7 months

Text

The Sorting Ceremony

A/N: Written for the September prompt of @hp-12monthsofmagic OCs mentioned/featured belong to @thatravenpuffwitch (Rylie and Pat), @the-al-chemist (Rory), @that-scouse-wizard (Robin) and @usernoneexistent (Zola). Thank you for letting be borrow them!

The Great Hall was abuzz with noise. Hundreds of voices drifted up towards the starry canopy of the enchanted ceiling, the floating candles bobbing up and down slightly with the air’s subtle movement basking the hall in a warm, welcoming glow.

There was much to talk about after six full weeks apart, and the students of the four long house tables running the length of the room were mingling, catching up with those of their friends and classmates whom they hadn’t seen on the Hogwarts Express already.

Dylan wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t like he didn’t have any friends to share his summer adventures with; he had plenty - or, what he considered plenty - and most of them were currently gathered at the Hufflepuff table, discussing their break.

Dana Parkin, his childhood friend and godsister, had come over from the Gryffindor table, bringing some of her friends (of whom she had too many for Dylan’s taste) with her. She was talking with Rory McTavish, a loud, grating Gryffindor from Dylan’s year, and Rylie Hopper-Lee about her aunt’s latest plans for the Wigtown Wanderers when Rylie leaned suddenly to the side, whispering to Dylan.

“What’s up?” she said, tilting her head curiously. “You’re so quiet.”

Dylan made a nondescript noise, sinking deeper into his seat. “It’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, and Dylan had just opened his mouth to reassure her again that he was fine, when a hush ran through the Great Hall and Headmistress McGonagall rose from her seat in the centre of the staff table. She clapped her hands twice, and the room fell silent.

“Attention, everyone. The Sorting ceremony is about to commence. All students return to their respective house tables, please.”

Her eyes lingered on the Gryffindors still occupying the Hufflepuff table for slightly longer than the rest, and Dana and her friends quickly shuffled away. Dylan watched them go with a sinking feeling to his stomach. Not much longer now.

The great double doors to the Great Hall flew open, and the massive silhouette of Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, appeared in the doorway. Not much could be seen for a moment, the wide frame of his shoulders blocking most of the view.

“Come on then.”

He waved his plate-sized hand above his shoulders and walked towards the staff table, in front of which a plain wooden stool had been set up. On it, a battered brown hat was sitting, the fabric creased and wrinkled with age.

The muttering that had branded up with the appearance of the Sorting Hat ceased again as a group of children entered the hall, huddling together like a flock of ducklings behind their giant, moleskin-clad mother. A cold autumn wind had been sweeping the grounds earlier, and the anxious faces of the first-years were flushed as they peered at their surroundings.

They shuffled along and into the Great Hall properly, forming a haphazard line on their way to the raised pedestal where the Sorting Hat was waiting for them.

One girl - small, scrawny, and with a wild shock of dark brown curls - pushed to the front. Dylan followed her with his eyes as she strutted past him. She caught Dylan’s eye, sticking her tongue out at him. Next to him, Rylie leaned in again.

“Was that…?”

“Reva, yeah,” muttered Dylan in response. “Where’s Patrick?”

“Let me see… over there!” Rylie exclaimed brightly, waving to a young boy towards the end of the line. Rylie’s brother timidly raised his hand and waved back, looking slightly green in the face.

“Can you believe they’re here?” Rylie sighed. “I swear they were babies only yesterday.”

“They’re only a year younger than us, Ry,” Dylan said flatly, eyes sweeping over the rest of the first years. “It was us in their place last year.”

“Makes it even stranger. I can’t imagine not being at Hogwarts anymore, and now Reva and Pat are here, too! Aren’t you excited?”

Excited wasn’t really how Dylan would describe his sentiments at Reva attending the same school as himself. His mother would probably tell him to not be so dramatic, his father to embrace his feeling of imbalance and by acceptance find his inner peace… or something like that. But neither of them was here, and neither of them knew just how peaceful his year without Reva had been. One entire year without the constant threat of being pranked, one entire year without her screaming in his ear about who and whatnot and making all of his days loud, hectic and intense.

“What do you think?” Rylie broke him from his gloomy thoughts as the first-years lined up before the Sorting Hat and Professor Flitwick stepped forward with a scroll of parchment in his hands longer than he was tall. “What house are they going to be in?”

“Gryffindor,” Dylan said immediately. “Reva’s going to be a Gryffindor.”

Rylie looked at him sceptically. “How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me. If you knew Reva, you’d say the same.”

“Don’t you want her to be in Hufflepuff? Both your parents were, weren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“There you go, it’s family tradition. Wouldn’t that be fun?.”

Dylan snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“Anyway, I have no idea where the Hat’s going to put Pat,” Rylie smiled over Dylan’s dark look. “I don’t see him as much of a Slytherin, but he’d make a great Puff, and he’s really clever, too.”

“Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, then?”

“I don’t know,” Rylie shrugged. “Or Gryffindor, who knows?”

“Yeah,” echoed Dylan. “Who indeed?”

Up front, where the new students had assembled, the Sorting Hat stirred on its stool. One of its creases began to move, the shadows on the fabric reminiscent of a weathered, age-worn face. Its bodiless voice boomed through the Great Hall, filling every last corner with its sound.

Many heads I’ve seen That goes without say. I’m here to Sort the new ones So let’s not cause delay. Into Gryffindor you may go, Where they are brave and true. Chivalrous and bold If that appeals to you. Or maybe Hufflepuff’s the place Where you feel like you belong. Loyalty and hard work Is the essence of their song. Ravenclaws are studious And with a ready mind. If you have the wit it takes They will be your kind. And lastly, there’s Slytherin, Who are cunning rather than loud. If you aim for the stars You will fit in with this crowd. These are your choices, This is the song I wanted to sing. Now let us not dawdle And let the Sorting begin.

Dylan’s eyes rested on the back of Reva’s head as the Sorting Hat fell quiet. She was bouncing, probably with a mix of impatience and excitement, and Dylan found that his foot had begun doing the same. The conviction with which he had told Rylie that Reva was going to go into Gryffindor wasn’t as strong as he had made it seem. Both their parents had been in Hufflepuff, after all, and he was, too. It would make sense. What if the Sorting Hat would think the same?

Pushing the thought aside, Dylan swallowed heavily. At least they would know soon.

Sure enough, Professor Flitwick hadn’t even begun reading yet when Reva began to move, pushing past the few students still in front of her.

“Albatross, Zola.”

Reva stopped abruptly as another girl stepped forward, dark-skinned and with a head of close-cropped, raven-black curls. The Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, and after a moment, it opened its mouth and boomed out: “Slytherin!”

The girl slid from the stool and walked over to the cheering table at the far end of the Hall. She sat at its very edge, watching her surroundings with a guarded expression.

“Amari, Reva.”

Dylan’s stomach gave a painful tug as his sister climbed the dais. Her eyes, which had rested on the girl who had been Sorted before her, were fixed straight ahead. With a cocky smile, she pushed herself up onto the stool and the Hat slipped over her eyes. It almost seemed to swallow her as it sunk in on itself, quivering in a movement that reminded Dylan of laughter. Then, it straightened itself out, and the crease in its centre widened to something resembling a grin.

“Gryffindor!”

The table next to the Hufflepuffs burst into applause. Dylan saw Dana raising her hands clapping, hollering as a grinning Reva took a seat next to her. She already seemed perfectly at home, as if she couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else.

“You were right, good job,” whispered Rylie next to Dylan. He nodded absentmindedly.

“Seems like it.”

Logically, there had been no doubt Reva would fit anywhere but with the Gryffindors. Watching her and Dana chatting between themselves now, however, gave him a strange, sinking feeling that he couldn’t quite place.

In the midst of his musings, Reva suddenly looked up from whatever it was that Rory McTavish was telling her. Catching Dylan’s eye, she wiggled her eyebrows and made a funny face. Sighing, Dylan looked away, his odd sense of disappointment dissolving as quickly as it had come.

The Sorting continued, and after “Willows, Robin” had been placed into Gryffindor as well - much to Reva’s delight and Dylan’s growing sense of dread - and Headmistress McGonagall had delivered her speech, the plates in front of them filled with all the delights the kitchen had to offer, and his musings were forgotten.

Dylan was still happily filled with mashed potatoes, peas and Treacle Tarts when he left the buzz of the Hufflepuff common room later that evening and made his way toward Gryffindor Tower. He waited until the enchanted staircase swung his way and climbed it towards the landing, where Dana was already waiting for him.

“How did you like your first feast without getting Sorted?” she smiled broadly as she fell into step beside him.

“Better than last year.”

Dana laughed breezily. “I can imagine.”

“How about you? Glad you’re back?”

“Always,” Dana said, her eyes flashing. “There’s so many things that happened during the summer. So much to catch up on, and seeing what electives everyone has chosen and comparing the timetables and… what?” she tilted her head when a look of relief crossed Dylan’s face. He blushed.

“Nothing.”

“No, what is it?”

“So, nothing’s… happened yet?”

Dana frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know, with Reva and all.”

At that, Dana had to laugh out loud. “She’s only been here for a couple of hours, Dylan. What did you expect, that the castle would burn down?”

The thought had crossed his mind but Dylan figured that he needn’t tell Dana that.

“I just mean, with her and Robin Willows both in the same house, there’s bound to be trouble,” he shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as Dana obviously felt. “One of them is chaos, but together, they’re mayhem. They got banned from sharing a room at Quidditch camp this summer.”

Dana’s eyebrows shot up. “Isn’t the owner Reva’s godmother?”

“The only reason they didn’t get sent home.”

Dana’s smile wavered, if only a little. She made an impatient gesture with her hand. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. You’ll see. This is Hogwarts. I’m sure it has seen worse than two eleven-year-olds with a couple of explosives.”

Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. “A couple of what?”

“Like I said, don’t worry,” Dana said, patting the bulging pocket of her skirt. “I got everything under control.”

“Where are Reva and Robin now?”

“They left to explore some time earlier.” Dana sounded thoughtful. “I hope they’ll make it back before curfew. This place can be a maze.”

Dylan shuddered at the thought of Reva and Robin prowling the castle unsupervised, but it wasn’t them that he was concerned for.

“You’ll have an eye on them, won’t you? Make sure nothing bad happens.”

“To her, or because of her?”

“Both.”

Dana gave him a half amused, half doubtful look but nodded her head, and Dylan already felt lighter for it. He bade Dana goodnight when they reached the portrait hole leading into Gryffindor Tower, and with a renewed spring in his step, he made his way back towards the dungeons.

He didn’t make it far. He had just entered the corridor that would lead him to the Great Hall, its walls lined with ancient suits of armour, when a strange, high-pitched whizzing sound caught his ear. Alarmed, Dylan jumped to the side, just in time to avoid the bright green, sharp-toothed Fanged Frisbee that was hurtling towards his head.

The impact of his movements sent him hurtling into one of the pieces of armour. The ancient suit began to topple, and before Dylan knew it, it came tumbling down around him with a resounding crash and clangour.

Hysterical giggles came from the far end of the corridor, and when he pushed open the visor of the helmet that had landed square on his head, two little girls were standing there, doubled over with laughter.

“Happy new term, Sir Dylan,” cried Reva between fits of laughter, making her friend Robin Willows howl as she wiped a tear from her eye. “This year is gonna be great!”

And with that, they were off, their raised voices still audible long after they were gone.

Dylan sat on the ground for a moment longer before he freed himself of the armour pieces and arranged them in a neat pile next to their socket. Sighing deeply to himself, he buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and continued on his way back to the dungeons.

This year was going to be great, indeed.

#hpma #hp magic awakened #magic awakened #next generation #hp next gen #dylan amari #reva amari #hp12mom #oh look #fandom me is still alive

13 notes · View notes