The Raven's Call

The Sorting Ceremony

There were about five of us to a boat, and by chance, I ended up with the girl I met on the train earlier. Alongside us were a boy with a thick Irish accent, a red-haired girl, and another boy who proudly announced that he already knew he was going to be placed in Hufflepuff.

I barely registered their conversation, too mesmerized by the towering silhouette of Hogwarts growing larger with every ripple of the lake. The castle's golden lights shimmered on the water, casting long reflections that seemed to dance in the gentle waves.

My heart pounded with excitement. This was real. This was happening.

Hogwarts was just within reach.

***

We followed the flow of students into the castle, climbing the grand staircase toward the Great Hall. At the top, a woman in emerald-green robes and a pointed hat stood waiting for us, her sharp eyes scanning the group. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she announced. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

She paused, letting the words settle before continuing. "While you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points; any rule-breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the Hou—"

"TREVOR!" A boy's voice suddenly cut through the air. I turned just in time to see a round-faced boy—that must have been Neville—scramble forward to scoop up the wayward toad.

The professor's lips pressed into a thin line. "The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily," she said before sweeping away. A murmur spread through the crowd, only growing louder when a blonde boy beside me spoke up. "It's true, then," he said smugly. "What they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." The name sparked a reaction. Whispers rippled through the first years. Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? I had always thought it was just a story. The blonde boy straightened, clearly enjoying the attention. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. My sister, Asteria... And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Beside Harry, the same red-haired boy from earlier snickered. Draco sneered, unimpressed. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe? You must be a Weasley." His voice dripped with disdain. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He extended a pale hand.

Harry barely hesitated before replying, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Before Draco could respond, the professor returned, tapping him on the shoulder with a rolled-up scroll. He scowled but stepped back beside me. "We're ready for you now. Follow me." With that, we stepped forward, our fate waiting beyond the doors of the Great Hall.

As we walked, I noticed the girl Draco had introduced—Asteria—had a small black kitten perched on her shoulder. Its little white nose twitched as it observed the room with curious blue eyes. I smiled. "Cute kitten," I mentioned. Asteria glanced at me, surprised for a moment, before her expression softened. "Thanks, her name is Nova." I reached into my pocket, where my own pet had been snoozing. "This is Bandit." Her face brightened. "He's cute too!" she said warmly. She didn't seem nearly as snobby as her brother.