Unexpected Destinies
"In the moment I call your names, you must come forward to be sorted into your houses," said McGonagall as she took out a large parchment and unrolled it with a serious expression.
"Hannah Abbott," she announced in a clear voice.
A blonde girl stepped forward, a little nervous, glancing around as if searching for an escape. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head, the same hat that had sung that strange song only minutes before and was still echoing in many minds.
"Hufflepuff!" the Hat proclaimed.
Applause erupted as Hannah climbed down with a relieved smile.
"Susan Bones."
Susan walked up with a steady stride and was sent to Hufflepuff after only a few seconds of silence.
"Terry Boot."
The tall, thin boy stepped up, his hands trembling slightly. The Hat barely touched his hair before shouting:
"Ravenclaw!"
A couple more names passed quickly.
"Millicent Bulstrode."
Millicent sat down with a bored expression and was sent to Slytherin amid cheers from her table.
Finally, McGonagall raised her voice again:
"Daphne Greengrass," announced McGonagall as Daphne, carrying herself with a touch of pride and walking with practiced poise, approached the stool. She sat straight, chin lifted, before the old hat was placed upon her head.
"Ravenclaw!" declared the Sorting Hat almost instantly.
"Ahhh?" Daphne blurted out, her face contorting into such a bewildered expression that everyone burst out laughing, especially her friends, who knew all too well how she always tried—and spectacularly failed—to maintain a cold, neutral demeanor like her father.
"Please, Miss Greengrass, proceed to the Ravenclaw table," McGonagall said seriously, though it looked like she was suppressing a small smile.
As Daphne rose, still confused, even the Slytherins stared at her in shock. They were whispering among themselves, unable to understand how an heiress from an ancient and powerful family that always produced Slytherins had ended up in Ravenclaw.
"Hermione Granger," called McGonagall.
Hermione took a deep breath for courage and stepped forward, a little nervous. It took the Hat only a second or two to decide her fate.
"Ravenclaw!" it announced, as Hermione beamed with joy, relieved she wouldn't be completely alone and would at least be with her friend. She had half-expected to be the only one sorted into Ravenclaw, since Harry, Draco, and Daphne seemed to fit perfectly in Slytherin—or at least Gryffindor in Harry's case. After all, her parents had studied there, and now that she no longer harbored that childish fascination with Dumbledore or McGonagall, but instead with Wanda, she had lost much of her desire to belong to Gryffindor.
"Draco Malfoy," McGonagall called again.
Draco stepped forward proudly, fully convinced he would be Slytherin, casting a slightly mocking look at his friend Daphne. He sat down calmly, certain he would restore his family's honor.
McGonagall barely lowered the Hat onto his head when it spoke up, as if it didn't even want to touch him:
"Ravenclaw!" it shouted firmly.
Draco froze in place, wearing the same baffled look Daphne had worn just moments before.
Daphne immediately started to tease him, raising her hand in a silly wave as she laughed, delighted that she wasn't the only "traitor to her lineage" in the Great Hall.
Draco stood up with a dazed expression, as if he still couldn't process what had just happened, and walked toward the Ravenclaw table. Even the Slytherins held their breath, not knowing what to think. Two heirs of pure-blood families who had always been Slytherins, now in Ravenclaw. It wasn't as bad as ending up in Hufflepuff—which they considered little more than a refuge for those no other house wanted—and at least they hadn't landed in Gryffindor, their sworn rivals. Still, it was something that would stir endless gossip.
"Harry Potter," McGonagall announced, and at once the hall fell silent. All heads turned in unison, eyes wide. Everyone recognized that name, no matter how many times they'd heard it. The Boy Who Lived. The one who had defeated the Dark Lord. The current heir of the Potter line, who was rumored to be forging new alliances with the Black and Greengrass families and, according to whispers, had plans involving the Malfoys as well. All of them were ancient and powerful houses.
Harry walked forward calmly, unfazed by the countless stares. His face remained perfectly composed as he climbed onto the stool. For a moment, he fixed his gaze on Dumbledore before turning his attention to the Sorting Hat.
He sat as the entire Great Hall held its breath, waiting to learn where the hero of the wizarding world would be placed.
"Mmm… hoo," the Hat said as it settled on his head. "A truly interesting mind… and at the same time a bit terrifying. If you don't temper your power, all I can see is a red, violent field," it murmured seriously.
"Just put me in Ravenclaw. I already know you will anyway," Harry said calmly, not breaking eye contact.
"Is that so? You are an intelligent young man. Perhaps it won't be so bad for you," the Hat replied before shouting in a loud voice:
"Ravenclaw!"
The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers, while the rest simply stared as if they had lost something they could never recover. Especially the Gryffindors, who looked profoundly disappointed.
Harry removed the Hat and gave a small nod to the professors, particularly to Professor Flitwick, who seemed almost ready to float away with joy as he watched the four new students join his house. After all, as an avid reader himself, he had often seen them together in the library, studying alchemy and enchantments, searching for ways to improve their golems and devouring every book in sight. Of course, he was delighted.
"I knew it," Flitwick whispered under his breath, a broad smile on his face.
Harry walked over to the Ravenclaw table, where everyone welcomed him warmly. He sat down next to Draco, who still wore the dazed expression of someone who couldn't comprehend why he was in a house different from the one everyone expected.
Meanwhile, Daphne quickly adapted and was simply happy to be with her friends and not forced to spend seven years in "the cave of fools." She chatted animatedly with Hermione, who was also smiling, glad she hadn't been separated from the others.
After the Sorting Ceremony, Dumbledore stood up with his affable smile and his spectacles sliding down his nose. He clapped his hands, and silence fell at once.
"Before we begin the feast, I'd like to remind you of a few basic rules," he said in a clear voice, though there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that made everyone wonder if he was half-joking.
"It is strictly forbidden to enter the Forbidden Forest… unless, of course, you wish to end up as Acromantula fertilizer," he remarked solemnly, while a few students shifted uncomfortably in their seats. "Magic is not to be used in the corridors… except, naturally, in extreme situations requiring you to save your own life or that of a classmate. And finally… the third-floor corridor is off-limits to anyone who does not wish to meet a sudden and painful death."
Harry raised an eyebrow, wearing an expression so confused that Daphne had to bite back a laugh, glancing sideways at Hermione, who was frowning deeply.
"Are they seriously going to keep something that can kill students inside the school?" Hermione muttered critically, as if she were evaluating an exam that didn't meet even the most basic standards.
"Now… a few final words," Dumbledore added calmly, ignoring the general consternation. "Let the feast begin!"
At that precise moment, the plates filled with steaming dishes, appearing as if conjured by a whisper of magic.
"Let's just not go near it, problem solved," Harry said with perfect composure as he began serving himself some stew with impeccable manners, as if a lethal threat were merely a minor inconvenience.
Daphne also started to pick what she found most appetizing, making sure every movement was graceful and precise.
Draco, on the other hand, looked as if he had switched into automatic mode. He stared blankly at his plate, stirring his food slowly while his brain tried to process the fact that he wasn't in Slytherin.
Hermione watched them all, let out a small sigh, and shrugged before starting to eat with resigned acceptance.
Dinner was long and delicious, full of low murmurs, curious glances, and questions no one dared to ask aloud. When it finally ended, the first-year Ravenclaws followed their prefect, a tall blonde girl with a distinguished air named Penelope Clearwater.
"Please, follow me," she said with a warm smile that eased some of the newcomers' nerves.
They climbed a spiral staircase that seemed to stretch on forever, until at last they reached one of the highest towers in the castle. There, they found a door with no handle, adorned with an imposing bronze knocker shaped like an eagle.
"To enter the common room, you must answer the riddle the eagle gives you. Would you like to try?" Penelope asked, her eyes glinting with amusement as she stepped aside.
The eagle came to life with a soft metallic creak and spoke in a voice that seemed to float in the air:
"I am what the wise desire more than gold,
what fools fear,
what everyone carries within,
and no one can steal.
What am I?"
Silence fell as some students frowned in concentration and others stared at the floor, hoping someone else would answer first. Hermione's eyes widened with a flash of realization, and she turned toward Harry, who was watching her calmly. The moment she met his gaze, she understood immediately that he knew the answer too.
"Knowledge," Hermione said in a clear voice, though she threw Harry a slightly annoyed look at the end. He smiled faintly, well aware of her competitive streak.
The door swung open with a gentle click.
"Well done," Penelope praised with a smile. "Remember that if you get the riddle wrong, you'll have to wait until someone else comes by and answers it. So… try not to blurt out nonsense unless you truly wish to sleep in the hallway."
The common room turned out to be a wide, circular space with a domed ceiling painted like a starry sky that seemed to shift and shimmer slowly. Statues of Rowena Ravenclaw watched over the room with serene expressions, while bookshelves full to bursting climbed almost to the painted stars. Hermione let out a small gasp of delight at the sight of so much knowledge gathered in one place.
After exploring the room with fascination, the boys separated from the girls to head up to their dormitory. Harry and Draco would be sharing with another student.
"Are you going to keep that face all night?" Harry asked as he set Hedwig's cage on a little table nearby. The owl settled herself with regal dignity, as if she were inspecting newly claimed territory.
"I'm just… surprised," Draco admitted without meeting his eyes. "My mother was Slytherin. My father too. Actually… on both sides, everyone was. Except Sirius… who got himself disowned."
"No… your godfather got disowned for… many other reasons," Harry replied, making a face that hovered somewhere between sympathy and amusement.
"Well, yes, that's true," Draco conceded, lowering his gaze.
"Don't worry. I don't think your mother will mind much," Harry said calmly as he began opening his trunk.
"I know. It's just… ugh, you're right. Doesn't matter," Draco muttered, starting to unpack his things with a resigned look.
"Hello! Nice to meet you," said a cheerful voice. A thin boy came in with a smile bright enough to light the room. "I'm Terry Boot."
"Harry Potter," Harry responded, inclining his head politely.
"Draco Malfoy," Draco said with less enthusiasm as he rummaged in his trunk.
"Do we really get such a big room just for the three of us?" Terry asked, turning slowly to take it all in. There were six perfectly made beds, though only three were occupied. Apparently, the other first-year boys had been split into other dorms, leaving quite a few rooms almost empty. Ravenclaw didn't seem to mind having extra space.
"Oh no, I forgot my wand in the common room," Terry exclaimed, tapping his forehead before dashing out.
"Who forgets their wand?" Draco muttered with a grimace.
But before he could say anything else, his trunk began to tremble, emitting a dull thumping that made him jump back in alarm.
Harry raised an eyebrow and held out his hand to signal Hedwig to move away. The owl complied, launching into the air with the dignity of a queen.
"Any idea what that is?" Harry asked calmly, gesturing at the quivering trunk.
"None," Draco replied, taking another cautious step back.
Harry snapped his fingers. The lid flew open, and a small red creature burst out, launching itself straight onto Harry's chest.
By pure instinct, Harry raised his hand, ready to defend himself, but when he recognized the creature, he sighed and let himself fall backward onto the bed as the little being started licking his face enthusiastically.
"Red… what are you doing here?" he asked in a tired voice while the dragon flicked its tail happily. Obviously, sneaking into Harry's trunk was impossible with the Scarlet Witch keeping watch—so it had smuggled itself into someone else's instead.
"And… why was it in MY trunk?" Draco demanded, leaning over just long enough to peer inside, only to recoil at once with a horrified look.
"Perfect," Harry muttered in resignation.