The Sorting Ceremony
Chapter 3: September 1952
The Sorting Ceremony
The grandeur of the Great Hall was almost suffocating as I sat at the teacher's table on the first day of September 1952. The air was thick with the buzzing energy of students, and the usual cheerful chatter echoed off the high walls. The glances from fellow professors and students were both curious and wary, for they knew the rumors that shrouded my name. As the eldest son of a dark lord, my family's legacy cast a long, ominous shadow over my presence at Hogwarts. Whispers of my dark past, the tales of a lineage steeped in darkness, had spread like wildfire through the wizarding world. Not many believed I was fit to teach at Hogwarts, a sentiment evident in the cautious gazes that met mine.The truth, however, defied the simplicity of black and white. My past was a tapestry woven with shades of gray, revealing a complex narrative that defied easy classification into the realms of good or evil.
Yes, whispers spoke of deeds that would shock most, acts committed in the pursuit of power and legacy. But hidden beneath the veneer of notoriety was a duty that bound me beyond the constraints of morality — the duty of an older brother to watch over and protect my younger siblings. The ties of blood ran deep, and in a world that often painted in broad strokes of right and wrong, my actions were driven by a complex interplay of familial responsibility and a desire to shield those I held dear.
Dumbledore's intervention had been the catalyst for my unexpected role as a teacher. His unwavering belief in my ability to contribute to the education of young witches and wizards had overridden the skepticism of others. As I sat at the professors’ tables situated in the dining hall, the weight of his trust pressed upon me, a constant reminder of the fine line I treaded between acceptance and rejection.
The students filed into the Great Hall, their eyes wide with anticipation as they took in the sight of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I acknowledged them with a simple nod, my gaze piercing through the sea of curious faces. I could sense the unspoken questions lingering in the air—questions about my past, my allegiances, and the secrets that lay hidden behind the mask of my demeanor.
Dumbledore's voice resonated once again through the Great Hall, his welcoming speech marking the beginning of a new school year. The enchanted ceiling above mimicked the starry night sky, casting a magical ambiance over the gathered students. "May this academic year be filled with knowledge, discovery, and the magic that binds us all. As we embark on this journey together, let us remember the values that define our community — unity, friendship, and the pursuit of truth."
As he concluded his opening remarks, the Sorting Hat, ancient and weathered, was brought forth to initiate the sorting ceremony. "The Sorting Hat," Dumbledore announced, "has been a faithful guide at Hogwarts for centuries. It shall help us place each student into the house that best suits their qualities." The Sorting Hat, perched atop a wooden stool, came alive with a ripple of magic. Its brim twitched, and the seam at the pointy tip opened, revealing the darkness within. It began to sing, its voice echoing through the hall in haunting verses: "Oh, the choices you'll make, the paths you'll tread, In Gryffindor's courage or Hufflepuff's stead. Ravenclaw's wisdom or Slytherin's might, Your destiny awaits on this enchanted night."
One by one, the nervous first-year students approached the stool. The Sorting Hat would be their guide, determining the house where they would spend their years at Hogwarts. The first student, a timid girl with wide, curious eyes, sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat descended, enveloping her in darkness. A hushed murmur spread through the hall as everyone waited for the Hat's decision. After a moment that felt like an eternity, the Sorting Hat declared, "Ravenclaw!"
Applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table as the girl made her way to join her new housemates. The process continued, each student sorted into their respective houses based on the Hat's mysterious decision-making.
As the final student took their place at the Gryffindor table, Dumbledore stood once more, the ambient applause gradually subsiding. "Another splendid sorting, my dear students," he announced, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Now, before we commence our feast, I have a second announcement to share." The Great Hall fell into an expectant hush as Dumbledore continued, his gaze sweeping across the assembled students. "It is my pleasure to introduce a distinguished post-graduate student joining us this year. I am delighted to announce that this exceptional witch will be offering select history classes to those who wish to delve into the mysteries of a unique and now extinct magical discipline known as “Elementarism” as well as following classes with her comrades. Her lessons won't be counted as part of OWLs and NEWTs, however it is of utmost value for you, young wizards, to be informed of your heritage and their customs, therefore I'm counting on you all to take an interest in her lectures.'"
Whispers of curiosity buzzed through the hall as Dumbledore paused for effect. The anticipation hung thick in the air, each student eager to learn more about this intriguing addition to the Hogwarts community. "Elementarism is an ancient form of magic that explores the fundamental forces of nature. Sadly, only a handful of individuals practice this form of sorcery these days," Dumbledore explained. "Our new post-graduate student has dedicated herself to the mastery of this art, and she now brings with her a wealth of knowledge that I believe will greatly enrich our academic environment."
"As we extend our warm welcome to our distinguished guest, allow me to introduce Miss Davina Ambrosius," Dumbledore announced, and the Great Hall once again shifted its focus. Davina Ambrosius entered with a graceful stride, her eyes scanning the room with an air of timid confidence that only heightened her enigmatic allure. The whispers surged anew as the students, and even some of the professors, exchanged curious glances. As Dumbledore's announcement echoed through the Great Hall, and the collective gaze of the students fixed upon the entrance, I couldn't help but scan the room for the mysterious postgraduate student specializing in Elementarism. My sole knowledge of this kind of practice came from my unspeakable father and his cohorts. Elementals do not carry wands to wield their magic abilities. Unlike a sorcerer, who concentrates his essence in his wand to cast a spell with renowned precision, an elemental uses only the pure and chaotic energy around him to confer a spell, such as water, fire, air, earth or even metals. But it had been decades since an elemental had set foot at Hogwarts.
However, as the new student entered, a curious twist of fate seemed to guide her gaze away from the teacher's tables, and she walked purposefully toward the Sorting Hat. My heart quickened as I recognized her instantly— the lace-veiled woman. The revelation of her name sent a shiver down my spine, unlocking a floodgate of emotions that surged within me—anger at the unforeseen connection, surprise at the unexpected twist of fate, and a subtle undercurrent of panic. Here I thought I'd managed to put this unknown woman out of my mind.
I tried to maintain my composure, my expression a mask that betrayed none of the tumultuous feelings stirring beneath the surface.
Davina, now known by name, held an air of quiet kindness as she stood before the Sorting Hat. The weight of her gaze, however, seemed to brush over the teacher's tables without lingering, as if intentionally avoiding my direction. The Sorting Hat, ancient and wise, settled upon her head, and again the Great Hall hushed in anticipation. "Oh.. I see.." the Sorting Hat began, its voice projecting to the farthest corners of the hall. "A soul touched by the elements, a malignant spirit that dances with the unseen forces of magic. You possess the cunning and ambition inherent to those who seek mastery over the intricate dance of power. Slytherin!"
The emerald and silver colors erupted in applause as the Slytherin table welcomed its newest member. Davina, her features illuminated by the sorting hat's verdict, exuded a quiet confidence that belied the secrets she held.
Dumbledore's warm smile accompanied the Sorting Hat's proclamation, and gestured for Davina to join the Slytherin table. As she gracefully moved toward her new house, my gaze lingered on her, taking in the details that had eluded me in the shadows of our first encounter.
Davina's dark ginger hair cascaded in waves down her back, and the emerald hues of her Slytherin robes accentuated the mysterious youthful glint in her eyes. Her presence exuded a quiet elegance that seemed to harmonize with the subtle energy of the ancient magic she had devoted herself to mastering.
Attempting to avert my gaze, I turned my attention back to the remnants of the Sorting Hat's ceremony. However, a subtle pull drew my eyes toward the Slytherin table once more. There, I caught a glimpse of Davina taking a seat next to the free space beside my brother Mattheo and his friends.
As the feast unfolded, her shy gestures but eloquent words drew the attention of the Slytherin students surrounding her. Mattheo, ever the extrovert, wasted no time in engaging her with his charm. He leaned in, flashing a charismatic smile that seemed to hold an extra sparkle in Davina's presence. "Welcome to the illustrious house of Slytherin, Davina," Mattheo declared, his tone smooth and playful. "I must say, our common room will now look even more enchanting with you in it." Davina responded with a polite yet enigmatic smile.
Seated at the teacher's table, my eyes couldn't help but drift towards the animated scene unfolding at the Slytherin table. Mattheo, undeterred by her reserved demeanor, continued to regale her with tales of Slytherin's past achievements and the unique camaraderie that defined his friend’s group. On the other side of the table, Theo observed the exchange with silent attentiveness. His quiet nature did not diminish his perceptiveness, and his keen gaze remained fixed on Davina. Unbeknownst to Mattheo, Theo absorbed the nuances of their conversation, his curiosity piqued by the woman who had entered their lives like a mysterious gust of wind.
The dichotomy of emotions within me intensified when her eyes lingered in the direction of the professors tables without our gazes meeting. Davina's presence was magnetic, drawing the attention of not just my brothers and I, but the entirety of Slytherin house. From my vantage point, I could discern the intricate dance of expressions on her face—a polite smile here, a thoughtful nod there. She navigated the social currents with an elegance that hinted at a familiarity with the subtleties of human interaction.
Lost in the currents of contemplation, I hadn't noticed the approach of Mirabel Garlick, the Herbology teacher. Her voice cut through the haze of thoughts,gentle inquiry that snapped me back to the present. "Professor Riddle, you seem rather distant tonight. Is the feast not to your liking?" Mirabel asked, her eyes betraying a mild concern. I offered a polite smile to the only keen professor who dared to speak to me, realizing that my introspection had not gone unnoticed. "No, no, Professor Garlick. The feast is delightful as I remembered from my teenage years. My mind was merely wandering." Her gaze held a flicker of understanding, and we engaged in a banal conversation about the start of the school year, the changing seasons, and the idiosyncrasies of magical flora. Mirabel, with her vibrant personality, managed to coax a few smiles from me, though the subtle currents of my thoughts still lingered beneath the surface.
As we spoke, I couldn't help but appreciate the distraction she provided, a respite from the enigmatic undercurrents that had occupied my mind. The Great Hall buzzed with life, students immersed in laughter and animated discussions, the feast unfolding in a tapestry of shared moments and camaraderie.
Mirabel's presence, while a brief interruption, was a reminder of the mundane aspects of daily life within Hogwarts. As the conversation with her unfolded, the layers of complexity that surrounded Davina and the shadows of our shared past temporarily faded into the background.