As Wren stepped down from the train onto the platform she felt Rosewaine's hand slip into hers so that they wouldn't get separated on the dark, crowded and smoke filled platform. As they began to weave their way through the crowd, following in the direction that everyone seemed to be moving. Suddenly they heard a booming west country accent calling out 'Firs' years, Firs' years.Follow me.' Wren craned her neck, standing on tiptoes to see where the voice was coming from but she soon realised he was easy to spot. At the far end of the platform stood the most enormous man that Wren had ever seen, holding a lantern, his bushy unkempt beard blending into his shaggy hair and fur coat. The towering man seemed to consist entirely of hair other than the gap for his nose and eyes to poke through. Rosewaine pulled Wren towards the mountain of a man, joining the group of other first years who were all looking up at the man with varying levels of awe. It was not often, if ever, that most of them had come across a man as tall as a one story building in their lives.
Once the man was satisfied that all the new first years were present and accounted for he introduced himself. 'My name is Rubeus Hagrid, Groundskeeper at Hogwarts. I'll be taking you across the lake tonight.' He explained jubilantly as he rocked back and forth on his heels.
'Lake?' Rosewaine repeated in a surprised whisper next to Wren. Wren had been told all about this tradition by her parents so she was well prepared but she could tell that Rosewaine had become rather nervous by the idea.
'Don't worry, the boats row themselves.' Wren explained trying to reassure her new friend.
'Oh, that's useful but it's not that. My granny foretold that i would cross a large expanse of water in the near future and her predictions are never a good omen.' Rosewaine squeaked.
In the process of getting to know Rosewaine on the train Wren had found out quite a bit about her new friend such as the fact that she was from a Romani gypsy family and had spent most of her life travelling around the British isles. She had also found out that Rosewaine was the first witch to be born to her family for a long time but that her grandmother had always said that her own grandmother had been a witch and that there would be a witch again. In that instance, Rosewaine had proved her right but given the facts that Wren had learnt she didn't quite understand how her muggle grandmother could possess the gift of clairvoyance to the point of such a prediction being a muggle herself.
'I'll stay close,if that helps,' Wren offered. Rosewaine nodded gratefully as she looped her arm around Wren's elbow.
The first years followed Hagrid's lantern light down to the lake bank where they found a fleet of small, wooden rowing boats awaiting them. Carefully Wren and Rosewaine clambered into one, bunching up their robes to make sure they didn't drag in the water. Each boat could hold about eight first years at a time. As they had been the first on their boat, the two girls had managed to get the best seats right at the helm.
Once all the first years had boarded their vessels, the boats began to slowly move, gliding over the glass still waters of the lake in the dark. At first the only light emitted was from the lanterns attached to boats bow, rocking a little along with the movement of the vessel, but as they moved silently in what seemed to be an endless expanse their eyes became drawn to a new source of light dancing and shimmering on the rippling water. At first only a warm glow could be seen but as they rounded a bank in the loche the sight that awaited them took their breath away. Wren stared up at the glowing windows of the most beautiful castle she had ever seen. Its windows all aglow in the night, shining out like a lighthouse on its hill, beaconing them towards it. Though many of the finer details were hidden in the darkness of the night, Wren could make out soaring turrets, battlements and walkways. The castle of Hogwarts was larger and more extravagant than Wren had ever imagined in all her childhood wonderings.
She did not realise that she was smiling and crying silently until a tear rolled down her cheek and splashed onto her upturned lips. She had waited so long for this day, dreaming of when she could finally learn magic. This one glorious sight made her realise that she was where she was meant to be.
The boats docked themselves in a large wooden boat house near the foot of the castle's cliff. After all the first years had clambered out of their boats, they followed Hagrid up a steep hill and across the lawns that lay in front of the enormous castle doors. As they approached, the heavy wooden, wrought iron riveted doors swung open slowly inviting them inside.
As Wren followed her classmates into the castle she found herself standing in an expansive entrance hall, the walls draped with tapestries and burning torches. Many intriguing doors and staircases lead off in different directions but one stood out above the rest. Dominating an entire wall stood another enormous wooden door. However, unlike the first, this one was highly decorated with panels of carving. In the main four panels that spanned the middle of the door resided the four house crests, each with an animal at the centre of its design. The panels that surrounded them featured reoccurring vine and leaf patterns that weaved amongst one another.
The first years stood together in a group in front of the door muttering quietly to one another for a few minutes. 'What house do you hope to be in?', 'will we be able to eat first? I'm starving!' came the quiet, excitable voices from the small crowd of children.
'What is about to happen?' Roswaine asked, leaning in closer to Wren as she spoke. Wren turned and was about to reply when the ornate doors opened a fraction, allowing a tall, thin witch wearing a dark green robe and matching pointy hat to step out in front of the expectant children. The witch looked to be in her early sixties and with her astute gaze and tight lips, Wren could tell that this would be a teacher not advisably crossed.
'My name is Professor McGonagall.' The witch introduced herself in a clipped, clear Scottish accent. 'In a moment, you shall proceed into the great hall where you shall be sorted into one of four houses. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Gryffindor. When your name is called you are to proceed to the stool at the front of the school where the sorting hat shall decide where you belong.'
Wren felt her knees begin to shake. When asked in the past which house she wanted to be in she had never been able to decide. All the houses had attributes that she would like to strive towards but now that the time had come, it felt rather daunting despite not having a preference.
'How do they decide your house,' Rosewaine asked with a worried expression, evidently imagining some ordeal or task that she hadn't prepared for.
'The hat decides.' Wren began then seeing the confused look on her friends face she realised that in truth she did not know very much more than that herself. 'We'll see.' she concluded with a shrug.
Moments later the doors opened once more, this time opening fully to reveal a large hall beyond. As the children began to follow Professor McGonagall into the hall, Wren became aware of four long tables filled with curious muttering students. Wren began to scan the faces for her cousin Zeddi but only found strangers staring at her. She felt rather like an exhibit in that moment so tried to position herself further into the middle of the group away from view.
When the group reached the front of the hall they arranged themselves in a long group in front of the teachers table that spanned its length. In the centre of the table was a very old man with a snowy white beard that flowed down his robes so far that the table hid where it ended. He surveyed the new arrivals through his half moon glasses, the corners of his lips turning up warmly. Wren did not need anyone to introduce this man to her. Most wizarding children grow up being told about the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledor, especially as he had been part of the school for so long that most of the students' parents had also gone to school during his time as the school master or teacher.
Professor Mcgonigal fetched a stool and rather tatty looking, brown wizards hat from the side of the hall and placed it in front of the students. Wren watched as the professor placed the hat on the stool then stood back, watching it expectantly.
Suddenly the fabric folds of the worn old hat began to move as a mouth and eye sockets began to form from the rips and wrinkles in the cloth. The hall watched in silence as the hat opened its mouth and coughed out a plume of dust before beginning to sing merrily.
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!" (By J.k.Rowling)
Once the hat had finished its performance the hall erupted into applause. Only once all the students had settled down once more did Professor McGonagall step out in front of them again with a scroll of parchment and began to read off the names of first years. Wren watched as her peers sat on the stall one by one and had the hat placed on their head. Sometimes the hat had barely touched the child's head before it cried out a house name, other times it took a lot longer. Wren preyed that when it came to her turn the hat would decide quickly, she dreaded the thought of sitting up there for ages with everyone's stares trained on her.
The first student she knew to be called was Felicity Crew. It only took a few moments for the hat to call out 'Hufflepuff!' A few minutes later it was her friend, Prudence's turn. The hat barely touched her before it boomed 'Slytherin!' The names continued to be called one by one. 'Erris McGrath' Professor McGonigal called.
Wren watched as the boy with the sad eyes from the train stepped up to the stall. He moved with a military stiffness, every movement precise and thought out, a rather odd sight on a child. He was quite a tall boy for his age, maybe half a head taller than wren who had always been one of the shortest amongst her peers. It was clear that the boy's bone structure allowed for a healthy frame with proud, broad shoulders but in his deathly thin state his robes hung from him as they would on a hanger. He did not have the mass to fill them out. As the hat was lowered onto the boy's head it covered his eyes, casting a shadow over the rest of his handsome but gaunt face. It took a long time for the hat to decide where this boy belonged and as the minutes drew by the occupants of the hall began to grow restless. After around three minutes the hat finally called out, 'Ravenclaw!' The boy emerged from the hat with a look of relief on his face as he walked away to the celebrating ravenclaw table.
'Wren Novelle!' As Wren heard her name her blood suddenly ran cold as she stared at the stool in front of her. It took every ounce of will power she had to stumble up the steps and sit on the stool. As the hat was lowered onto her head her heart hammered against her rib cage. As with the boy before her, the hat was so large it slipped over her eyes obscuring the hall from her vision and she found herself staring at the dark cloth of the hat's interior.
'Aah, potential, a lot of potential but also fear. Fear of oneself, interesting.' a little voice muttered in her ear, ' A ravenous mind for knowledge yes, quick wit indeed. A kind heart also. Hmmm, tricky, tricky. But a wise decision would be....... Ravenclaw!' The hat boomed and then was yanked from her head to reveal the Ravenclaw table hollering and clapping once more. She stumbled shakily over to it and fell into an empty seat. A little further along the table she could hear her cousin's voice exclaiming 'That's my girl, new she would be in Ravenclaw, family has been saying it for years.' This was not true to her knowledge but then again, now the choice had been made it did feel right.
The hall died down again for more sorting to occur and this time Wren could watch from the comfort of being within the crowd. 'Rory Ridcully.' The mottled haired boy who had pranked the train practically skipped up to the stool, no sign of the nerves the rest of his year had exhibited. The hat barely brushed the top of his ear before it cried 'Gryffindor!'
'Well that's no surprise,' Wren snorted to herself. She watched the boy scamper down the entire length of the Gryffindor table, high fiving outstretched hands before finding a seat.
'That kid was built from a different mould' Muttered a 7th year sitting a few spaces away from her in bemusement as he stared at the brazen boy.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, signalling for the Gryffindor table to settle down before she called another name. 'Roswaine Swift'
Wren watched with bated breath as her new friend walked up to the stool. Wren could tell she was nervous from her tightly balled fists but other than that Roswaine was feigning confidence well. As the hat was lowered onto her head, Wren couldn't help but hope that she would be placed in the same house as her. Around a minute later her wish was granted. 'Ravenclaw!'
Rosewaine stood up from the stool beaming and nearly walked off with the hat still on her head before giving it to Professor McGonagall and making her way to her raucous table, Wren now adding to the din. Wren made room for her friend to sit beside her as they embraced excitedly.
After the few last remaining sortings, Professor Dumbledor stood to address the school.
'Welcome, welcome to all returning and those who have just arrived. In this coming year you will grow and discover more than you could possibly imagine as you sit here now. And as I say every year, Hogwarts is a place of learning and exploration so do not shy away from opportunities that arise. Embrace them and make the memories that you will hold fondly for years.
Now a few short announcements and rules to cover.' at this some audible groans issued from the students.
'Yes yes, i'm hungry too,' the old headmaster chuckled. 'As always curfew remains to be ten PM. Romping around the castle after this hour will result in detention if caught. The Forest also remains out of bounds for students of all year groups without a teacher present and lastly Professor Sprout has instructed me to relay the message that many of the plants in the green houses are inedible so please refrain from taking a bite no matter how tasty a berry or fruit may look. We had several rather nasty hospital wing admissions due to this mistake last year and would prefer not to continue the pattern. And on that note, May the feast begin.' Professor Dumbledor finished, raising his hands into the air grandly. As he did so, the empty plates and platters in front of the students instantly filled with all manner of delicious dishes.
Wren stared open mouthed at the bountiful display before her as she tried to figure out what to try first.
'What's wrong with you, it's like you've never seen a feast before,' chuckled an older boy sitting next to her. 'Go on, dig in or Flanigan will eat it all.' the boy joked as he gestured to his friend who was shovelling food into his mouth at a rapid pace. 'Nothing wrong with a hearty appetite.' Flanigan replied. 'You don't complain when this fuel wins us quidditch games.'
'Yeah but eat too much and you'll be falling out of the sky.' the boy next to Wren retorted with a malevolent grin. Wren couldn't help but giggle at the boys teasing one another as she began to dish crispy roast potatoes and slices of roast beef onto her plate.
Suddenly Rosewaine gave a terrified squeak beside her. Wren looked at her friend's petrified face before following her gaze above them. Several translucent people shaped forms were floating above them in the night sky. No, not the night sky, a ceiling charmed to resemble the night sky with its twinkling constellations and candles floating in the air. Illuminating the hall below. She had been so preoccupied with everything happening at ground level that she had never thought to look up. She watched the ghosts floating through the sea of candles like fish in a fiery ocean. The sight of a ghost did not scare her, she had met a few when visiting family friends. The Out house at Zeddi's home was permanently haunted by a grouchy old tinkerer who constantly looked for tools that no longer existed in the space.
However, it was evident that Rosewaine was finding this first encounter quite disturbing as she shrank away from the ceiling as best she could.
'Don't worry, ghosts won't hurt you.' Wren reassured her. 'They are just like anyone else, they're just..'
'Dead,' Rosewaine finished her sentence as her skin changed shades from sheet white to sickly yellow.
'Here, have a roast potato.' Wren said quickly as she forked a potato from its mountainous pile and plopped it on her friend's plate hoping to distract her. It seemed to work a little as Rosewaine began to focus intently on her plate, refusing to look up again.
'Wait until she meets peeves.' The boy next to her grinned grimly.
'Or professor Bins for that matter,' added Flanigan.
'What do you mean?' Wren asked curiously, tilting her head in confusion as she tried to figure out the joke.
'You'll see,' Flanigan chuckled ominously.
Wren ate until she thought her stomach might explode. She was usually a little more measured with her portion sizes but with so many delicious things to try all notion of moderation had gone out the window, though as she sat, stuffed to the gunnels she started to regret that last serving of jelly she had just eaten.
When all the students had finished their meal, all the plates of leftover food disappeared and the older students began to saunter off to their respective common rooms. As more students began to exit the hall a few older students with important looking badges pinned to their robes began to call out to the first years.
'Ravenclaw first years, gather round please.' called a tall girl with a bleach blond ponytail.
'Are you all here, 1,2,3,4......9. Perfect, you're all here. Right then, follow me, I'll take you to our common room.'