𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥

The Sorting Ceremony (Mind Your Business)

As per tradition, on Friday evening, September 1st, the students were finally there. A sea of young faces and black robes had flooded the Great Hall, accompanied by the chaotic chorus of their chatter. The Houses tables were occupied in their entirety, unlike they had been in the previous days: it was nice to see Hogwarts come back to life after the summer break. The feast was about to appear, but not before the main events of that evening: the Headmistress' welcome speech and, most importantly, the Sorting Hat Ceremony.

When Blanche entered the Hall, a wave of excitement almost made her hands tremble, but she managed to maintain a straight countenance since the last thing she wanted was for the students to notice her nervousness. While navigating the central nave with extended, measured steps, she could feel her heartbeat accelerate as she crossed the crowd of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws sitting at their respective tables; their eyes were following her, along an excited buzzing, and in the corner of her eye she noticed some Slytherins and Gryffindors not-so-discreetly straining to catch a glimpse of her.

She sat in her usual place, right next to Minerva's vacant seat: as the Headmistress, she had yet to give the traditional speech from the Owl Lectern, to welcome back the students and announce the Sorting Ceremony to the newcomers.

The Ceremony was Blanche's favorite Hogwarts tradition. This was the first time she'd get to see it from the teachers' point of view, and the sight was everything she expected - and more. From her position, she could observe every student's expression: the apprehension on the first-years' faces was priceless, bringing back many memories of her own Sorting Ceremony which was held many years prior - in 1974, to be precise. That kind of anticipation was unforgettable and she remembered it fondly.

As she scanned the students, she was glad to see that not one of them reminded her of anyone. They were exactly the teenagers she expected to find: maliciously innocent, kind of silly, and full of life. They'd be a hassle to handle for sure, but she was feeling optimistic; overall, she was happy to finally be able to face the kids she'd be teaching. She had already cast a Concentration Spell on her classroom to help them focus; the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom would be an interesting and, hopefully, engaging place. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower was the ideal place to practice the craft, and what she had planned was unconventional. Well, not as unconventional as the vicissitudes of the last few years, but untraditional nonetheless.

Minerva made her entrance with an elegant, quick walk that stopped in front of the Owl Lectern and silenced the students, who all turned to look at her with undivided attention. She cleared her voice, taking hold of her wand and pointing it at her throat to amplify her voice. Her authoritative aura was something to witness: the whole room was silent, waiting for her speech.

"Good evening. It is my pleasure to be able to welcome those of you that have been with us for a long time, as well as those who are new, to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To the newcomers, it's an honor to greet you for the first time; and to those who are already familiar, I ought to say that I'm delighted to see you again. I, as well as the rest of us," she continued with a graceful gesture directed towards the teachers' table, "am pleased to annunciate the official opening of the academic year. I wish you all good luck, as I hope that you'll find a new home with us; and most importantly, I wish you to always remember the words of the late Headmaster: Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. If you have any concerns, do not hesitate to come to any of us as every problem leads to maturation, if correctly addressed: our role is to aid you. With this, I hope I've made myself clear enough. Now, for the newcomers, I'll present to you your future teachers."

Minerva turned towards Snape, at the far end of the table, and stated: "Professor Severus Snape will be your Potions Master; make good use of his vastly esteemed expertise," she said as Snape got up with an unacknowledging, impassible stare; his eyes were void as he looked at the sea of seated students. A few murmurs arose here and there but went ignored. As soon as the formality was completed, he sat down.