As they stepped into the Great Hall, Alexander gasped, his eyes wide with wonder. The ceiling above was a vast expanse of deep midnight blue, sparkling with hundreds of tiny, twinkling stars, giving the impression of being outside under a starry sky. The candles floating in midair flickered gently, casting a warm glow over the long wooden tables below. The walls were adorned with beautiful banners representing the four houses, their colors vivid and proud.
Alongside the tables, a collection of ghosts drifted through the air, some floating lazily above the students, while others seemed to glide in and out of the walls. One ghost, a translucent figure wearing a pointed hat and a wide, mischievous grin, waved cheerfully at the new students, making Alexander's heart race with excitement. The ghosts were so real, so present, as if Hogwarts itself held a secret life beyond its stone walls.
At the front of the room, a raised platform stood, with four long tables stretching down the length of the hall. The teachers were seated at one of the tables, their faces stern and welcoming, while the students filled the other tables, some already chatting excitedly, others in deep conversation. The air was filled with the hum of anticipation as everyone waited for the sorting ceremony to begin.
The atmosphere in the hall was electric, as if the very walls of the castle were alive with magic. Alexander felt his breath catch in his throat. This was it—the start of his new life, in a world filled with magic and wonder beyond his wildest dreams.
As they stopped in front of a stool, Professor McGonagall placed a worn, ancient-looking hat atop it. Alexander's eyes widened in surprise as the hat suddenly stirred. To his astonishment, a pair of bright, twinkling eyes appeared on its surface, followed by a wide, mischievous grin. The hat seemed to come alive, its fabric rippling as if it had a mind of its own.
Then, to the surprise of all the students, the hat began to sing in a deep, booming voice that echoed through the Great Hall. The song was lively and full of history, speaking of the four houses, their traits, and how each one was distinct. It spoke of bravery, wisdom, ambition, and loyalty, and how the Sorting Hat chose students based on their heart's true desire. Alexander could feel a thrill rush through him as the magical song filled the air. It was like the hat had a personality all its own, full of ancient wisdom and a little bit of mischief.
As the song came to an end, the hat fell silent, still perched on the stool, its eyes flickering once more, as if waiting for the ceremony to continue. The students were all staring, some in awe, others still processing the strange yet incredible experience. The Great Hall was filled with an almost tangible sense of anticipation, and Alexander, for one, couldn't wait to see what would happen next.
Professor McGonagall took a parchment from her robes and began calling out the names of the students, one by one. Each time, she would place the Sorting Hat on their heads, and after a brief pause, the Hat would loudly announce the name of their house. As the ceremony went on, Alexander's mind began to wander. His name started with "R," and there were plenty of students ahead of him. The process seemed to drag on, and the steady flow of names began to blur together.
The only thing that briefly captured Alexander's attention was a boy named Harry Potter. When Harry's name was called, a ripple of whispers spread throughout the hall, followed by curious glances from the students. Harry looked uncomfortable under the weight of the attention, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Alexander couldn't help but notice the boy's unease, though he couldn't understand why such a simple name caused such a reaction. After a long moment, the Sorting Hat finally announced, "Gryffindor!" The hall burst into applause, but Harry merely nodded awkwardly, as if he'd rather be anywhere but under the spotlight.
After a few more students, it was Alexander's turn. His name echoed across the hall, and he rose from his seat, stepping forward with a quiet grace and elegance. The soft rustle of his wizard's robe was the only sound that accompanied his steps as he walked toward the stool. It was his first time wearing the robe, but he moved as though he had worn it a hundred times before. With a calm expression, he sat on the stool, the Sorting Hat placed atop his head, the hall now silent with anticipation.
As the Sorting Hat settled on Alexander's head, a voice echoed inside his mind, deep and thoughtful.
"Ah, what an intriguing mind you have," the Hat said, its tone both impressed and curious. "Your thirst for knowledge is boundless. Ravenclaw would suit you well, no doubt. Your intellect would lead you to greatness there. But... that's not all. You're hardworking, too, like a Hufflepuff—dedicated, persistent. And there's bravery in you, yes, a courage that belongs in Gryffindor. But wait, there's more..."
The Hat paused, as if considering something deeply, its voice lowering slightly.
"You possess something else, something strong. A will, a powerful drive to leave your mark on this world. To prove yourself, to make sure you're remembered. A desperate need to carve your place in the world... quite normal for an orphan like you. Your ambition is fierce. It's the kind that will take you far—though whether that leads you to good or ill is for you to decide."
The Hat seemed to deliberate for a moment longer, then finally spoke with certainty.
"Slytherin!"
The announcement echoed through the hall, and a few whispers rippled through the students. Alexander remained calm, the weight of the Hat's words settling on him as he stepped off the stool. He had been chosen, not just for his intellect or bravery, but for the fierce ambition that lay within him—a drive that would shape his journey at Hogwarts.
As the Sorting Ceremony concluded and the final student found their seat, Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat and stool. The hall grew quiet as Professor Dumbledore stood, spreading his arms in a gesture of welcome. His long silver beard shimmered in the soft glow of the floating candles, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mix of wisdom and mischief behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Welcome!" he said, his voice warm and resonant, carrying across the hall. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Whether you are a returning student or a first year about to embark on this incredible journey, I am delighted to see you all here."
The students murmured in excitement, the first years shifting eagerly in their seats.
"Now, before we begin our magnificent feast, I have a few important announcements to make," Dumbledore continued. His tone grew slightly sterner, but the twinkle in his eyes remained. "First, a reminder to all students: the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to everyone, regardless of how adventurous you may feel."
There was a ripple of whispers, particularly among the older students who exchanged knowing looks.
"Second," Dumbledore went on, "I must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
This statement was met with stunned silence from the first years and a mixture of amused and intrigued glances from the older students. Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly, wondering what could possibly be hidden there.
"And now, on a lighter note," Dumbledore added, his voice brightening again. "Before we begin our feast, I would like to say just a few words." He paused, his expression becoming thoughtful. "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
The hall erupted into laughter, and Dumbledore smiled serenely, as if he'd delivered a profound piece of wisdom.
"Let the feast begin!" he declared, clapping his hands.
Instantly, the golden plates and goblets filled with an array of delicious foods: roast meats, steaming pies, golden potatoes, and jugs of pumpkin juice. The hall buzzed with chatter and laughter as the students eagerly dug in, the tension of the Sorting Ceremony melting away into celebration.
Alexander watched the spectacle with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, filing away Dumbledore's cryptic warnings in the back of his mind. As he reached for some roasted chicken, he couldn't help but feel that this was only the beginning of something much larger than he could imagine.
As Alexander adjusted his napkin and reached for a piece of roasted chicken, a pale hand suddenly extended toward him. Startled, he looked up to see a boy with sleek, blonde hair and an air of confidence standing beside him. His gray eyes glinted under the warm light of the Great Hall as he offered a small, self-assured smile.
"Hello," the boy said smoothly, his voice carrying a touch of arrogance. "My name is Draco Malfoy."
Alexander glanced at the outstretched hand, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he evaluated the boy before him. After a brief pause, he leaned back in his seat, leaving Draco's hand hanging for a moment longer than necessary before finally shaking it with a firm grip.
"Alexander Ravenwood," he replied curtly, his tone polite but devoid of enthusiasm.
Draco's smile widened, seemingly undeterred by Alexander's reserved demeanor. "A pleasure to meet you, Ravenwood. I couldn't help but notice your Sorting—impressive display. Slytherin could use more people like you."
Alexander gave a faint nod, not quite sure how to respond to the sudden attention. "Thanks, I suppose," he said before letting go of Draco's hand and returning to his meal.
Draco, however, didn't move away. "You know," he continued, leaning slightly closer, "you've already made an impression. It's rare to see someone so composed during their first day. It's a quality I respect. We could do great things together here at Hogwarts."
Alexander glanced up again, his expression unreadable. "I prefer to make my impressions through action, not flattery."
Draco blinked, taken slightly off-guard but quickly recovering. "Fair enough," he said with a slight chuckle. "I can see we'll get along just fine."
With that, Draco finally moved to his own seat, leaving Alexander to ponder the brief interaction as he resumed eating. The boy's approach was unexpected, but Alexander had the distinct feeling that this was not the last he'd hear from Draco Malfoy.
As Draco sat back down, he studied Alexander for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he asked, "From which country do you come from? I don't know any pure-blood family in England with such a name."
Alexander's gaze flicked up from his plate, meeting Draco's with calm indifference. "I don't know anything about my origin," he replied matter-of-factly. "I might be a pure-blood, a half-blood, or even a Muggle-born."
A tense silence fell over the Slytherin table at his words. Draco's face twisted into a look of disgust, and several other Slytherins nearby exchanged dark, disapproving glances.
Draco abruptly stood, his voice rising with indignation. "I can't believe it—I shook hands with a Mudblood!" he spat, his tone dripping with contempt. "You don't belong in our noble house! Don't you dare talk to me again."
Alexander, however, remained unfazed. Without so much as a flicker of emotion, he simply responded, "Okay," before returning to his meal as if nothing had happened.
Draco stared at him, clearly expecting a stronger reaction. His lips curled in frustration at Alexander's lack of response, but after a moment, he scoffed loudly and stormed off, leaving the table muttering angrily to himself.
Several Slytherins watched the exchange with a mix of curiosity and disapproval, but Alexander paid them no mind. For him, Draco's outburst was nothing more than a minor annoyance, unworthy of his attention.
As the feast came to an end, the plates and goblets on the tables vanished, leaving them spotless. Dumbledore rose to his feet, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention.
"Now that we are all fed and watered," he said, his warm voice echoing through the Great Hall, "it is time to retire for the evening. Prefects, please lead your houses to their respective common rooms. Sleep well, for tomorrow marks the beginning of your journey this year at Hogwarts."
The students began to rise, the hall buzzing with chatter as they grouped together. The Slytherin prefect, a tall and imposing seventh-year student, called for the first years to follow him.
"Stick together, and don't dawdle," the prefect instructed, leading the group out of the Great Hall and into the dimly lit corridors of the castle.
Alexander moved with the rest of the Slytherin first years, his sharp eyes absorbing every detail of the castle's grandeur. The flickering torches along the walls cast eerie shadows, and the occasional painting moved, its occupants whispering to one another as the students passed.
The group descended a long, spiraling staircase deep into the castle's dungeons. Finally, the prefect stopped in front of a blank stone wall. He turned to face the group.
"This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room," he announced. "The password is 'Salazar.' Remember it, because you won't get in without it."
The prefect spoke the password, and the wall slid aside, revealing a dimly lit room decorated in shades of green and silver. The Slytherin common room was cold yet elegant, with high-backed chairs, dark leather couches, and ornate snake motifs carved into the furniture. Greenish light filtered in through the windows, hinting at the murky depths of the Black Lake outside.
"First years, your dormitories are to the left," the prefect said, gesturing toward a staircase. "Don't wander around the castle at night. It's against the rules."
"Before you settle in, it's time to introduce yourselves," he announced, his tone sharp. "In Slytherin, we take pride in our heritage. State your name and the noble house or lineage you hail from."
One by one, the students began their introductions, each name laden with pride.
"Draco Malfoy, of the noble and ancient House of Malfoy."
"Pansy Parkinson, of the Parkinson family."
"Daphne Greengrass, from the Greengrass line."
"Gregory Goyle," another mumbled, his voice low.
When Alexander's turn came, he stepped forward with his usual poise. "Alexander Ambrose Ravenwood," he said, his voice clear and steady. "I don't know my lineage or heritage."
The room fell silent for a moment before Malfoy's sneering voice broke through. " A nobody pretending to belong here. I knew it was a mistake to let someone like you into our house."
A few others laughed, emboldened by Malfoy's words. Even the prefect smirked, his disdain evident.
Alexander remained unfazed, his sharp gaze moving from the prefect to Malfoy. "It's easy to hide behind a family name and the deeds of ancestors when you haven't accomplished anything yourself," he replied coolly.
The room went quiet, the weight of Alexander's words hanging in the air. Several students exchanged uncertain glances, and even Malfoy seemed momentarily lost for a retort.
As Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, a cold, silken voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
"Malfoy, shut up," said Professor Snape as he stepped into the common room, his dark robes billowing behind him. The room fell silent instantly, and all eyes turned to the imposing figure of their Head of House.
Snape's sharp gaze scanned the group before settling on Alexander. "Ravenwood is correct. In Slytherin, we value ambition and individuality. Your heritage may guide you, but it does not define you. I suggest you all remember that."
Malfoy flushed, his mouth snapping shut as he glared at the ground.
Snape turned to address the first-years as a whole. "I am Professor Severus Snape, your Head of House. I expect discipline, determination, and decorum from every one of you. As Slytherins, you are part of a legacy of greatness—how you uphold that legacy is entirely up to you."
He gestured toward the hallways leading to the dormitories. "Your sleeping quarters are marked with your names on the doors. Tomorrow morning, during breakfast, you will receive your timetables. I expect you to be punctual and prepared for your classes. Now, go to bed."
The students quickly dispersed, their earlier arrogance replaced by quiet obedience. Alexander moved toward his dormitory with calm steps, Artemis still perched on his shoulder. As he pushed the door open and stepped inside, he glanced back briefly to see Snape's dark eyes following him before the professor turned and disappeared into the shadows of the common room.
Alexander entered his new room, his footsteps quiet against the stone floor. The chamber was modest yet comfortable, with a four-poster bed draped in green and silver curtains. Artemis, his raven, spread her wings and flew to a perch near the window, her red eyes gleaming faintly in the moonlight streaming through the glass.
Without a word, Alexander opened his trunk and pulled out his sleeping wear. He changed quickly, the day's events replaying in his mind. Sliding under the covers, he glanced once at Artemis, who tilted her head as if watching over him.
With a deep breath, Alexander closed his eyes, the quiet hum of Hogwarts filling the room as he drifted into sleep, ready to face whatever challenges the next day would bring.