Chapter Four: The Sorting

  The train hissed to a stop, steam billowing across the platform as doors clattered open. Excited voices rose all around Lily as students spilled out, pulling trunks and calling to each other. She stood near the compartment door, clutching Ash’s crate and her bag tightly, feeling the cool air of the Scottish countryside wash over her.

  “Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way!” boomed a familiar voice. Lily turned and spotted a massive figure waving a lantern above the crowd.

  “Hagrid!” Harry called, grinning. Ron followed after him, and Lily trailed quietly behind, her eyes wide as she took in the looming silhouette of the castle far in the distance. It seemed to rise out of the mountains themselves, its turrets lit like stars in the growing twilight.

  “Yeh all right, Lily?” Hagrid asked kindly as she approached.

  She nodded, barely able to form words. “It’s… bigger than I imagined.”

  Hagrid chuckled. “Wait till yeh see inside.”

  They followed the half-giant down a winding path to the edge of a vast, black lake. Dozens of small boats bobbed gently on the water, each one able to seat four.

  “No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called as the students clambered in.

  Lily found herself sharing a boat with Harry, Ron, and a quiet boy named Neville who kept clutching a toad to his chest. As they pushed off from the shore, the boats glided effortlessly over the glassy water, leaving only ripples in their wake.

  No one spoke for a while. The sight of Hogwarts, rising tall and mysterious on the cliff above them, stole all breath and words. The castle looked ancient and alive, its windows glowing softly like eyes watching from above.

  “Blimey,” Ron muttered. “It’s huge.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Lily whispered, her voice almost lost in the wind.

  Harry looked at her curiously. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  She shook her head. “No. But… it feels familiar, somehow.”

  The others looked at her, but she didn’t elaborate. How could she explain the strange warmth curling in her chest—the feeling that something old and powerful was humming beneath her skin? That the very air tasted of magic?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  As the boats passed under a curtain of ivy and into a cavern beneath the castle, Lily’s fingertips tingled. She glanced down at her lap, where Ash’s crate was nestled. The cat’s eyes glowed faintly in the dark, and she could swear he gave her a knowing blink.

  They emerged into a rocky harbor, and Hagrid led them up a steep path to the castle doors. Towering oak doors loomed above them, and when Hagrid knocked, they opened with a deep groan.

  Professor McGonagall was waiting inside. She looked stern as ever, but her eyes lingered briefly on Lily with a flicker of something softer.

  “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said, her voice echoing across the stone walls. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but first you will be sorted into your Houses. Follow me.”

  They were led through a hallway lit with flaming torches, past moving portraits that whispered and pointed as they passed. Lily barely heard the whispers. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

  They were ushered into a small chamber just off the Great Hall. The door closed behind them with a quiet click.

  “Do you think it’s true they make you fight a troll or something?” Ron asked.

  Lily turned to look at him in alarm.

  “N-no, they wouldn’t do that,” Neville stammered. “Would they?”

  “I’ve read all about the Sorting,” said Hermione, stepping up beside them. “We’ll be called up one by one to sit on a stool and wear the Sorting Hat. It looks into your mind and decides where you belong.”

  Ron looked doubtful. “Does it hurt?”

  Hermione rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”

  Lily didn’t say anything. She was too busy trying to calm the swirl of emotions in her chest. She still didn’t know where she belonged—what if the Hat didn’t, either?

  McGonagall reappeared. “It’s time.”

  She led them from the chamber, and the doors to the Great Hall swung open.

  Lily gasped.

  Hundreds of candles floated in the air, casting a soft golden light over four long tables where students sat in black robes. The ceiling above shimmered like the night sky—deep and endless, with stars glinting overhead.

  The first-years were led to the front of the hall, where a small stool sat beneath an old, battered wizard’s hat. Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unrolled a long scroll.

  “When I call your name,” she said, “you will come forward, sit on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat on your head.”

  One by one, names were called. Nervous students walked up, sat, and were sorted.

  Harry was called. Lily watched as he sat nervously, the Hat falling over his eyes. After a long pause:

  “GRYFFINDOR!”

  The table burst into cheers.

  Then Ron: “GRYFFINDOR!”

  More cheers. Lily’s palms were damp. She clutched Ash’s crate tightly. The cat was silent now, but she felt his presence steady beside her.

  Then: “Ravenclaw, Lily.”

  The room fell into a strange, sudden silence.

  Whispers rippled down the tables.

  “Did she say Ravenclaw?”

  “Like the founder?”

  “No way—just a coincidence, right?”

  Lily’s heart thundered as she stepped forward, her face burning. The silence felt heavy, charged. She sat, trembling, and the hat was lowered onto her head.

  Ah… said a voice in her mind. There it is. A curious mind, and a quiet strength. You don’t quite fit the mold, do you? Clever, cautious, but bold beneath it all. Old magic flows in your blood, child… very old. You are more than you know.

  She swallowed.

  Yes… not just a Ravenclaw by name, I see… but by nature. And more still. A storm is waiting in you. You seek not just knowledge—but understanding. Legacy. Purpose. Truth.

  The voice fell silent for a long, eerie moment.

  Then it declared, loud and proud:

  RAVENCLAW!

  The room did not cheer right away.

  For a breathless beat, the name echoed against the enchanted ceiling. Then the Ravenclaw table erupted—cheers, clapping, some standing in surprise and excitement. A few professors leaned forward to whisper to one another. Even Dumbledore seemed to watch her with a curious twinkle in his eye.

  Lily stood, dazed, and walked slowly toward her House table. She caught Harry’s eye as she passed the Gryffindor table. He gave her a small, warm smile.

  She smiled back, a flicker of pride stirring in her chest.

  As she sat, a quiet warmth settled over her. She didn’t know what the future held—but for the first time, she felt like she belonged not just at Hogwarts, but in the story itself.

  And deep in the shadows of her crate, Ash stirred—his eyes flickering with quiet lightning as the floating candles danced above.