Equilibrium

A Strange and Enchanting Place

As the boats approach the landing, I feel my excitement building, which probably accounts for the fact that I'm shaking like a leaf, despite being warm under my long robe. Finally, after what feels like ages, I finally feel my boat bump into the shore and slowly grind to a halt, the shaking of the boat becoming indistinguishable from the shaking of my limbs. I climb out, tripping over my robes again, falling to my knees on the rough stones of the shore as the throng of new students bustles forward around me. Making my way to my feet, I quickly catch up with the crowd and follow them inside the castle. The inside of the castle is like nothing I've ever seen before - the room is yawning and cavernous, massive sprawling staircases leading up above and down below me, torches lighting the walls that are covered with innumerable paintings, all with different frames, styles, and contents. I run my hand along the rough stone wall, oddly warm to the touch, and trace along the frame of the closest painting, marveling at its beauty. 

"Hey Kid, don't you know it's rude to touch things that aren't yours? This is my house, you know!"

 I'm startled, as the voice seemed to come from right next to me.

"Well, aren't you going to say something," the voice asks again.

I look around me, but all the kids are making their way up the staircase in front of me, completely unaware of me. I look back at the painting and find myself staring right into the oil-on-canvas eyes of an old man, giving me a disapproving look and shaking his head. I stumble backward, rubbing my eyes to make sure this isn't some sleepless confusion, and find him in a different position, still looking me in the eyes.

"Quit gawking! It's not polite to stare, either! Now get lost, don't you have somewhere to be?"

Mouth agape and still trying to process what just happened, I turn and stumble my way up the steps after the other kids.

The stairs plateau in a large antechamber, with doors leading off in every direction and hundreds of bodies shuffling in the same direction, all heading towards another room. As I shuffle forward, partially of my own volition but mostly being carried by the momentum of the crowd, I feel my stomach rumble in response to the unknowable but mouth watering smells flowing over my head. As I finally make my way into what is clearly a dining hall, I notice two things; one, there is a distinct lack of food on the tables, and two, none of the other first year's are moving to seats, despite all the tables having more than enough empty seats. I lean over to ask one of the other first year's what they're all waiting for when I see something move in the corner of my eye. By the time I look, whatever was moving is gone, and most of the kids have shuffled into the room and are standing awkwardly, whispering amongst themselves.

As everyone talks amongst themselves, I sense a tension in the air, as if, behind uncomfortable chuckles and offhanded remarks lies some taboo topic that nobody wants to bring up, an elephant in the room that's taking up just enough space to be noticable. This observation is quickly wiped from my mind as a door somewhere deep in the dining hall slams, and a tall woman holding a scrap of cloth makes her way onto the stage.

As more people soot her, silence spreads like the flu, and before I know it I'm standing in complete silence.

The woman sets the cloth on a stool, and with a surprisingly loud, piercing voice, proclaims "the sorting will now begin. Will Jameson Alven please step forward." At this, one of the boys is seemingly shoved from the depths of the group, quickly walking up to the teacher, looking mortified. The scrap of cloth must be a mangy, disrepaired hat, as the teacher placed it on the young boys head.

The energy of the room immediately changes, a hush falling over the already silent crowd, and I feel myself holding my breath in anticipation of... whatever everyone else is waiting for, I suppose. Suddenly, the hat writhes on his head for a moment, before calling out "Ravenclaw!"

The table directly to my right erupts in cheers, the level of enthusiasm taking me completely by surprise. I clap along with then as the boy joins their table, still unsure of exactly what is happening.

By the time my name is called, I have a rough understanding of what this is all about, and while I still dont know the difference between the four possibilities, I can tell that slytherin is an unpopular choice, being the only table to have elicited consistent booing.

It's not until I hear my name that I fully realize that I'll have to go up and be given a table as well, and I'm immediately terrified for no real reason. Urged on by the awaiting silence, I move too fast and trip over the unfamiliar cloth brushing my ankles, eliciting empathetic chuckles from most and raucous, hooting laughter from what I now know to be the slytherin table.

I finally make my way to the teacher, blushing furiously, and almost tripping again as I sit on the stool. I hear the blood pounding in my ears as I wait for whatever is about to determine the table I sit at, and nearly Yelp when something talks over the pounding.

The voice, crackling with age, mutters softly, almost to himself.
"Ahhh, this one seems familiar... yes, I've seen one much like him before, brave enough, to be sure, but with a brain. A little shy perhaps, not particularly bold... however... yes, I see... well in that case..."

The silence following these words is deafening, until suddenly...

"SLYTHERIN!"