The Sorting Ceremony
When Selena returned to the Slytherin carriage, she found her brother surrounded by his usual entourage.
Well, almost all of them. Regulus, ever the dutiful prefect, had been called away for patrol duties. A tragedy, really—he would miss all the sparkling conversation.
She barely had time to sit before three pairs of expectant eyes turned to her, sizing her up like a new dress they weren’t sure they liked yet.
“Cissy told us you lived in Paris for years! How fortunate!” Ambrosia Bulstrode gushed, her round cheeks flushed with excitement.
Selena smiled politely. How fortunate indeed.
“Have you ever been to Mademoiselle Céleste’s to have dresses made?” Vera Rowle chimed in, her voice smooth, calculated. “I simply must have something from her collection.”
Selena had expected this. It was the same in every Pureblood circle—an unspoken competition to see who was the most refined, the most cultured, the most terribly unbearable.
“I went once with my Aunt Berenice,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “But I don’t own anything from her collection.”
The disappointment in their faces was almost comical. Three owls who had just been told their post was delayed.
“But,” she added, taking pity on them, “my aunt did have a dress made for a gala. It was divine—woven with enchanted feathers that changed color throughout the night. She looked like a magnificent bird.”
Their eyes lit up with envy. Even Phylis, who had been listening in with an expression that suggested she’d rather be anywhere else, twitched slightly at the mention of an exclusive gala dress.
“Mademoiselle Céleste is a genius,” Vera mused, pretending not to care too much. “Though I’ve heard she uses rare magical creatures in her fabrics. Some might find that… unethical.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Selena agreed, as if this was a well-known tragedy. “I, for one, have been devastated thinking about all the poor little creatures that had to suffer for my aunt’s dress. Kept me up for weeks.” She sighed dramatically. “But at least she looked fabulous.”
Vera pursed her lips in amusement, while Ambrosia nodded as if Selena had just imparted great wisdom.
“To love French fashion, I suppose one must enjoy flashy things,” Phylis interjected, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. “Personally, I prefer British elegance. But of course, taste is subjective.”
Selena barely held back a smirk. Ah, there it was—the Phylis Selwyn Special: an insult so delicately wrapped in propriety that if you complained, you were the problem.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Selena answered, pretending to consider it deeply. “Then again, British fashion does tend to be so… subtle.” She gave Phylis a slow, deliberate once-over. “You must find it difficult to stand out.”
Phylis’ smile tightened.
Ambrosia, completely missing the tension, sighed dreamily. “I simply love your dress today, Phylis. You always look so sophisticated.”
Selena leaned in slightly. “Truly. Like a real pillar of British elegance.”
Phylis looked like she was resisting the urge to throw her teacup at her.
Selena decided to back off—for now. No need to give Phylis a full meltdown on day one. She observed the group instead, mapping out the dynamics.
Vera, tall and poised, had the air of a deadly nightshade—gorgeous, but potentially fatal. She was the diplomat, the one who struck a balance between charm and quiet menace. Selena liked that.
Phylis, meanwhile, radiated the energy of someone who thought she should be the main character. Calculating, cold, and utterly convinced of her superiority. No doubt she was already plotting ways to make Selena’s life difficult.
And then there was Ambrosia—sweet, excitable, and blissfully unaware of half the conversation happening around her. She was Phylis’ biggest fan, hanging onto her every word with near-religious devotion. Selena suspected that if Phylis had declared the sky green, Ambrosia would have gasped and agreed enthusiastically.
As the conversation meandered on, Selena relaxed slightly. The Slytherin girls were certainly entertaining, if nothing else.
It seemed that if she wanted real fun at Hogwarts, she’d need to expand her social circle beyond just carefully poised socialites and their very dedicated admirers.
When the train arrived at Hogsmeade station, most of the students on board were in a frenzy. Following the group of Slytherins, she was quickly informed that she would accompany them by carriage to the castle. In truth, this wasn't Selena's first visit to Hogwarts.
Although she had never been inside the building itself, she had come several times to watch her older brother Rodolphus play Quidditch. This was long before she was old enough to study magic. She had already been able to contemplate the beauty of the place from the stadium. Now she was looking forward to wandering inside the castle.
The towering figure of Regulus approached her slowly as she prepared to board a carriage drawn by some unseen force. “I've managed to be the prefect who's supposed to escort you back to the Great Hall”, he said thoughtfully.
She nodded discreetly, meeting the menacing gaze of Phylis who was watching them from another vehicle ahead. She seemed to possess a surveillance device in her eyes that alerted her whenever Regulus seemed to be getting a little too close to the ballerina.
“Rabb told me you were good at potions, maybe we could be partners in this subject, to join forces.” The raven-haired boy continued, his voice almost seductive.
Evan Rosier, who was sitting on the other side of Selena, looked at Regulus in disbelief. Losing his usual potion partner did not seem to enchant him.
“Why not,” she replied in surprise. “I hope it wasn't Rab who made you offer me this.”
Regulus's face was beginning to heat up slightly, luckily for him, nightfall was hiding the resulting redness, “No, not at all.”
Of course, Rabastan Lestrange had asked him to keep an eye on his sister, but curiously this favour didn't seem to require much effort on his part. What was even curious was that Regulus usually hated to change his habits and that he and Evan had been potion partners since their first year.
The young witch's eyes widened in wonder as she entered the castle grounds. Her ultimate fantasy had come true. To live in a gothic setting that is both disturbing and enchanting! She couldn't wait to wander its corridors, admire its architecture and unravel its mysteries. The castle seemed to personify magic itself, possessing its own marvellous, excessive aura.
They arrived in a colossal hall, dominated by a staircase of monstrous grandeur. Pupils who were already familiar with the place headed automatically for a large room on the first floor, while the new arrivals were supposed to wait to be guided into the banquet Hall.
Regulus' reassuring presence stayed with her until the last moment. She felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement when Professor Minerva McGonagall informed her that, as she was the only fifth year transfer student, she would be the first of the evening to experience the sorting. The first years around her all looked at her in astonishment. Bastien Rosier soon arrived at her side.
And, as he too shared this emotional storm, he took her hand. Then, following the teacher's orders, they entered the great hall.
Regulus quickly joined his friends at the Slytherin table. He sat down between Rabastan Lestrange and Evan Rosier, a small grin of impatience on his lips. For the first time since first year, he was going to pay attention to the sorting ceremony. He felt that the return of the young ballerina would brighten up the dark tunnel that his life had become since Sirius had left.
From now on, the weight of the heritage of the honourable Black family rested on his shoulders. And his mother, Walburga, had made this clear to her now only son. Rodolphus had confirmed this at his wedding. He too would soon be a Death Eater. The youngest of all the Dark Lord's followers.
Although he had not addressed the young man directly at Bellatrix and Rodolphus's union, Regulus had felt the gaze and attention the dark lord had focused on him. There was no doubt. No escape.
The young man's attention was drawn back to the Great Hall door when it opened to reveal the graceful, proud figure of Selena Lestrange surrounded by a myriad of first-year students. One of them was holding her hand! Regulus' eyes rolled in exasperation as he recognised his best friend's dashing little brother.
Professor McGonagall brought out the hat, which she placed by the stool where the new students would be seated. She looked at the group with a pinched expression before opening her mouth.
"When I call your name come up to the front and sit to be sorted", she instructed.
"But first," she called, "a new transfert student is among us. Please come forth, Selena Lestrange!”
The girl had just whispered something in Bastien Rosier's ear with a smiling face. Weirdly, Regulus suddenly felt that he too longed to be the recipient of such attention.
She stepped forward cautiously and sat down on the stool facing the pupils of the school.
Selena felt slightly embarrassed to be the centre of attention. But she knew that the ordeal would be short. She had been so touched by the thoughtfulness of the Rosier boy that she almost forgot her apprehension.
When Professor McGonagall placed the hat on her head, the young girl felt the weight of the audience's curious gaze upon her.
“Oh, what do we have today. A transfer. A Lestrange on top of that. Logic would dictate that I send you blindly to Slytherin.
It is true that I see great talent in many areas, my dear.
I see that you also like to have an audience when you display those talents.
Such qualities would do wonders in Slytherin but perhaps your daredevil side would also fit in with Gryffindor..”
The young girl gasped at the thought.
“Not Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat seemed to laugh. “Yes, you'd do wonders in Slytherin, that's for sure, But I'm not sure it suited you perfectly. Such a creative, curious and brilliant mind..."
"Better be RAVENCLAW!…”
Selena's heart stopped. She felt all the blood leave her head and a lump form in her throat.
The world had blurred.
She couldn't hear anything.
The tingling went dangerously close to her eyes. No! No tears.
She swallowed hard. Then she took a long breath before her emotions overwhelmed her.
Her legs seemed to lead her on their own initiative towards the Ravenclaw table, which welcomed her with great enthusiasm.
As her gaze wandered to the left, she met the discomfited faces of her brother and Regulus. Narcissa was biting her lower lip nervously and the three girls with whom she had ended her trip were looking at her with a certain disgust.
As they glared at her, she could already guess a word that was already quivering along the lips of the snakes. Blood traitor...
She felt her stomach tighten when she saw that her brother was avoiding her gaze. She couldn't help wondering what the consequences of her sorting would be for her and for him.
Slowly coming to her senses, she realised that she now had no choice but to put up with the situation.
So, she sat down amongst the Ravenclaws, who seemed to be delighted that she had joined them.
A young girl with almost white blond hair spoke to her in a soft voice, “They'll get over it, and so will you.”
The young witch staring back at her had diaphanous skin and light grey eyes. She had adorned her uniform with a few blue and yellow flowers and was wearing a strange necklace with azure pearls of various sizes.
Selena looked at her without understanding.
The girl continued in a nebulous voice: “I’ve been there too.”
“The same situation?” Selena asked sceptically.
“My name is Pandora Malfoy, I'm also in fifth year,” she replied more confidently.
Selena breathed a sigh of relief. There was a precedent. Another witch from their pureblood circle had been sent to Ravenclaw.
A dark-haired boy with golden skin leaned towards the two girls: “Welcome to Ravenclaw! I'm Max, Max Wrenwood! This is Silas Brightvale," he said, grabbing the neck of a tall, square-jawed boy with chestnut curls. The two boys both looked quite athletic. But the one called Silas seemed to attract the attention of many of the girls in the room.
He turned around to see an elegant, dark-skinned boy and a plump girl with a bobbed haircut, “Eleanor Fawley and her beloved Arun Kharral.” The couple laughed awkwardly at their classmate's comment, but exchanged a knowing glance that showed their affection.
“And over there, the two curly blondes bickering are the Kettles twins: Lucy and Oliver.” The sister and brother interrupted their lively discussion to wave a friendly hand in Selena's direction.
“So, you're the famous ballerina?" Eleanor asked with interest, facing the young witch. “Can you give us private dance lessons?”
Selena scoffed at the young witch's thought, such a prospect appealed to her, she nodded shyly.
“If you're sporty, maybe you could join us on the Quidditch team," Silas offered. “We really need to boost our chances this year if we're going to beat the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Potter's not going to give us a chance.” He glanced towards another long table bearing red and gold flags.
“Potterrr?” queried the girl, letting her French accent betray her.
“Oh, that is so sweet! I love your accent!” exclaimed Lucy who had moved closer to join in the discussion. The young witch in question had a small, slightly snub nose and small blonde curls framed her face in an untidy fashion. She looked almost like a little fairy.
“Potter, he's the tall, bespectacled lad over there, captain of the Gryffindor team and frankly it's our biggest competition," Lucy continued, her voice showing a certain interest in the boy.
Apparently, Lucy was one of the beaters in the Ravenclaw team and despite her delicate appearance, she was said to be a fearsome force when armed with a bat.
Selena craned her neck slightly to catch a glimpse of the wizard. No, it couldn't be! No way! The famous Potter was sitting between her Mr Darcy and Sirius!
Sirius met Selena's surprised gaze and winked at her. Of course, he was delighted that she hadn't ended up in Slytherin.
Rabbastan couldn't believe it. How could a Lestrange have ended up in Ravenclaw?
Thank goodness it wasn't Hufflepuff or Gryffindor! But all the same.
The young wizard clenched his fingers anxiously. How was he going to explain this in a letter to his father?
The sixth-year wizard had clearly seen that the witch had been on the verge of bursting into tears when the Sorting Hat had decided her fate. What an object of woe!
What had made the Sorting Hat decide that Selena would be better off in Ravenclaw?
He watched his sister throughout the speech by the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, and throughout the dinner. She seemed to have already been adopted by the Ravenclaw fifth year group. How was he going to look after her if she wasn't in the Slytherin dungeon?
Intercepting Selena at the end of dinner, as she was heading for the stairs with her new Ravenclaw friends, he whispered to her in French:
“Tu ne peux vraiment jamais rien faire comme tout le monde! Comment je vais expliquer ça à Père?”
“Do you think I did it on purpose? That vicious hat chatted me up for a good two minutes, telling me I'd be perfect for Slytherin...” replied his sister.
“What!?” exclaimed Rabbastan in disbelief.
“But it ended up saying that Ravenclaw would be perfect for me! I had nothing to do with it.” She let out a long-distressed sigh. Trouble seemed to follow her in spite of herself.
“Is it that bad?" finally inquired Selena. Her eyes seemed to mist over slightly, and she seemed genuinely upset at having deceived her brother.
He sighed. “Panda landed there too,” he conceded, looking at the young blonde who was waiting for their discussion to end before guiding Selena to the Ravenclaw tower.
He continued, holding her by the shoulders. “Look, I'm sure you'll have plenty of lessons with the Slytherins and they'll be able to help you out.” He was saying these words not only for her but also to convince himself.
“Maybe it's not so bad that you don't share an environment too close to some of my 6th year friends,” he said, looking in Mulciber's direction. “Besides, it'll avoid situations where you might slip up in the presence of purebloods.”
“You know I never make the wrong move," she said, doing a few dance steps before placing a kiss on his cheek.
I'm going to miss you, sis, he thought without saying the words. The freshness and spontaneity of Selena's presence had always softened Rabastan's mood. He swallowed his disappointment and let her join her new Ravenclaw acquaintances. Perhaps he could present Selena's dispatch to her father as an opportunity to preserve her honor.