Aisling Gregory's Sorting Ceremony

Asiling Gregory was at the very back of the class, and she was never, ever at the back of the class. But she had to be sure — had to be sure that thing in the lake wasn’t going to chase anyone inside, wasn’t going to kill them all. Maybe, also, her legs were still wobbling and numb, so she wasn’t moving fast, especially creeping backwards, eyes still locked on the lake.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t throw up, not in public, though the unremitting terror of that dark boat ride over the murky water had her shaking and pale. She still faced the treacherous waters, gripping her huge, stunningly real Wand in her small fist, inching towards safety and the other students.

The wand remained deep within the flowing, warm, black robes she wore, of course. Those elegant, brand new robes formed a comfortable barrier between herself and the mundane - no, muggle! - world. She liked wearing them; not, though on a boat ride! She would have drowned, if she fell into the water with the heavy things on.

They would have tangled her ankles and pulled her under to feed to the thing in the lake. So far, she couldn’t use her Wand for anything more than to point out notes during a presentation, but it was long and heavy. Possibly long enough to have whacked at a purple tentacle, before she died. It hurt when a piano teacher whacked your hands with a ruler, after all! So the Wand reassured her, even as it twisted in her clammy grip, and now that the lake was receding, she was calming.

Though she had been sure, somehow, that the deep waters they’d gone over had hid a giant, purple octopus, it probably didn’t? Right? Who would keep a student-eating-monster in a lake? But Aisling had been able feel its hunger and curiosity, she was sure. Almost sure. Right? She counted to ten, slowly. Tested her feelings, like Luke was always told to do. Nope, she was hungry and curious. The lake was —

Gone.

A huge, vast bang rang out, as the castle door slammed closed. Aisling startled from the sheer, heavy sound of it. A small wind washed over her, rippling the heavy robes! Or a wind should have curled around her, anyway; it would have been perfect. A simple, clear reassurance that the door was safely closed, the gates of the castle barred to the thing that (probably didn't) lurk in the lake. Heart still pounding, Aisling forced herself to turn, and skittered after the class, marveling at everything she saw.

Who wore robes like this? Who had giant amazing chandeliers? Who got to live in a stone castle? Wizards!! She was a wizard. Or a witch, or a Talent, or a Dragonrider, or a Between or a Herald … well. She wasn’t sure. There were a lot of names out there, for magical people. Joy bubbled up, and with it such aching anticipation.

“It’s all real,” she breathed out, amazed, then blushed, so embarrassed. She was not a student who talked out of turn! She gripped her wand harder, assuring herself that it was all true. All of it. She was too short to see much but the backs of the students in front of her, just yet, but the teachers were on a raised dais. Not a stage or a platform. No; this was a magical castle for magical people so … it just had to be a dais, right?

But she couldn’t see the thing everyone was staring at.

A hat? Something about a Sorting Hat, to find their House. 

A student shifted, moving to the side just enough that she could watch in delight as a hat on a stool — talked. Or it sang. Or was did it recite a poem? She didn’t know, she wasn’t sure, too excited to focus, but she loved it. Maybe Disney had the right of it, after all. Aisling made a mental note to be especially kind to Beasts, all inanimate objects, anyone sad or old or ugly.

Just in case.

Students marched forward as their names were called, each one sitting in that chair, with the magical Sorting Hat all but falling to their ears. It would shout out the name of a House, then send the first years off towards the four groups of older students waiting at vast tables.

Green Slytherin in their elegant robes with the snake on their banner. Were they healers, then?

Golden Gryffindor, with a lion. Were they nobles?

Black Hufflepuff, with a badger! Badgers were fierce and territorial; military students, maybe?

And then Ravenclaw, whose colors reminded her of a sunset, all bronze and blue, with a striking bird on their banner. She could not determine if it was Raven, like in their name, or a bird of prey. Nor did their symbol give her any clue as to what they did. Weather witches, maybe? 

But she wasn’t too worried; she’d fit in where they put her, right? That was what the Sorting Had did. She had faith in that. It was like the Sword in the Stone! Useful, happy, helpful.

Her name was called, and she felt dizzy with excitement, with wonder. Threading through the students, she approached the magical Sorting Hat.

Tore her gaze from it to courtesy politely to the teachers. She’d practiced, from the time she’d first gotten her robes in Diagon Alley. Her dad was great at giving her pointers on how to move in the fancy robes, too. So she didn’t trip, didn’t fall over, but sat gracefully on that stool, trembling with excitement. Closed her eyes and wished with all her might to find the perfect House!