Chapter 5
September 1st, 1993
Everything after the dementor encounter on the train was one big blur of motion and forgotten actions.
Eventually, the girl must have made it back to the compartment. Having been stirred to leave the train when it had finally come to a stop. Separated from Theodore Nott as he disappeared from her sight in the crowds that formed in narrow walkways.
Eventually, she left the train, taking advantage of being blessed with a taller height than most. Her eyes darted around the mass of students, all seemingly funneling one way. But before she could mindlessly follow the crowd, the shouting of a man stirred her mind again. A heavily accented voice, one you can so easily mimic in your own mind, "Firs' years this way!" Iris seemed to think she was included in that grouping.
Eventually, the group she had so quickly joined up with was led to the edge of a lake. If Iris had paid any mind to the details of what was happening around her, she would have realized that the poor first years she joined in a boat looked anything but happy about the older girl's presence.
Iris was beyond zoned out. Her expression perfectly empty as she simply stared ahead… hand hovering over the water, fingers just gliding through the icy water with the faintest of touches.
The man that led the group hollered out once more sometime in the slow crossing of the lake, preparing the children to duck their heads for the upcoming cave of sorts they were about to pass through.
Iris, of course, complied. Finally seeming to break free of whatever abyss she had been lost in as she grumbled to herself. Back having to ache as she lowered herself enough to awkwardly avoid slamming her face straight into a rock. It was a trip better suited for the smaller first years, a simple bending of the neck for them.
Iris was slow to raise back up… gaze preparing to just continue staring blankly ahead… then there it was.
A castle. Up on a hill, surrounded by a seemingly endless stretch of forest and mountains… the castle.
With nothing but the glow of the moon to shine upon the stone walls, one would lose themselves on the exact details. But you didn't need to know the color of the stone to take in the sight.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was one of those sights that imprint itself so deeply into your brain that even a strange lapse in memory could not kill it. It was a grand castle with tall towers that reached the sky, arches that were nothing but welcoming, and statues of gargoyles to offer a watchful sense of protection.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was… magnificent. And just looking at it, one would have to know that it was a place you had to be extremely lucky to set your eyes upon.
Iris' lips had parted the slightest, eyes wide as they took in just what she was seeing. Her hand remained in the water, fingers frozen in their endless glide. The air brushed through her hair, allowing her to see without interruptions.
Iris was completely lost in that moment, staring up at the gold glows of the windows. Staring at the way the moon bounced off the walls.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
A school, of course… but also a home for the generations of students that walked its halls.
Her new home…
XxxxxX
The path from off the boats and up to the castle was sketchy at best. Hell, the small eleven-year-olds needed a hand just hopping off the boats and onto the rocky surface that made up the ground. Clocks snagged. Shoes slipped. Children fell.
Proving at least more graceful than the average eleven-year-old, Iris simply held up the back of the group, hands tucked into her pockets. She was more alert during this walk. Eyes everywhere, moving between every strange shadow as the group trudged their way on. Eventually and finally making their way to the entrance doors, where the giant leader of the group would knock…
Once
Twice
Thrice
The castle opened itself to the newcomers. Almost seeming to beckon in the new students that would experience this new home… this whole new experience for themselves.
Some of the welcoming feeling had to die off a bit when eyes landed upon the rather stern-looking woman dressed brilliantly in emerald green robes.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the man who had led them through the first half of their journey.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Pulling the doors open wider, the professor turned and began walking, an unspoken but clear sign to follow.
The Entrance Hall started as a gentle introduction to the castle. Immediately one came face to face with a stone carving of the Hogwarts Crest. Proudly it sat between the split staircase that would take you to the next door. Below the Crest was the motto.
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titllandus
As the group was led up the stairs, every set of eyes wandered. From the paintings that littered the walls to the stained glass windows to the pillars of fires decorated with golden hog heads. Everyone was completely lost in the sheer size and details of just this one small room.
Through the next door, they swiftly went. Passing through what seemed to be the larger part of the castle, if one simply turned right, they could look down what appeared to be an endless hall, stairs leading into what was, at a quick glance, a hall filled with different paths one could take. But they were funneled through another door straight ahead before anyone could really get a good look.
And into a chamber of sorts is where they would go and ultimately stop. The room was darker… and felt slightly different from the two previous sections. Perhaps an addition to the magical castle in its many years of history… or maybe the original and the previous rooms the additions. Either way, just from the color of the stone alone, it just gave the impression of a different time… but was still just as striking to look at.
There was one more set of doors before them… the last if the drone of the many voices beyond were any indication.
The younger students crowded together, huddling like penguins seeking comfort in their group. Iris, on the contrary, stuck to the wall, leaning against it with crossed arms as she watched McGonagall wait for the first years to settle. A natural bubble formed between Iris and the first years, marking her a clear outsider. Something Iris gave no visual notice of.
As the room went quiet, with the exception of the hum of noise from the opposite side of the door, McGonagall cleared her throat and began what had to be a practiced and well-performed speech.
She spoke of the process. Of how the group would be sorted into a house, or as she described, a family. Of four families, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Of house points and a House Cup for the winning group.
Her gaze didn't still once during her speech, and inevitably, they fell on the oldest of them all.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take..." Nearly complete, the women's voice gradually quieted before it entirely died. She looked over the teen before meeting her eyes. An emotion flashed in the professor's eyes before she looked away, cleared her throat, and carried on.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as you are waiting." Her eyes carried back to the teen before finishing her memorized speech, "I shall return when we are ready for you."
She then left the chamber, Iris's eyes glued to her figure every step of the way.
XxxxxX
The ten minutes were not spent quietly in the slightest. Young minds wondered as they considered how the sorting would happen. Some swore fighting a troll, others debated a test, and one went with the most optimistic option of them all, sorted by last names.
Iris stayed silent as she listened, eyes flashing with just a bit more blue than usual as she listened to the wild minds of children.
The conversations in the room only died when shock replaced them.
From the walls sprouted pearly-white and nearly transparent figures. Or, in other and more unbelievable words… ghosts entered the chamber. There were only three, but for a first time seeing such creatures… people… figures…, one would have been enough to catch the attention of everyone in the room.
The ghosts weren't the quickest to notice the dozens of onlookers, but once they did, the transparent beings seemed just as fascinated as the children. Questions and conversation came from all ends, some of the more daring speaking as others watched tentatively.
The noise continued for a few moments until the stern voice everyone already knew so well cut through. "Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
The figures quickly flew up and away, disappearing into the walls.
"Now, form a line and follow me," commanded Professor McGonagall.
A few of the first years seemed ready to collapse at any second. Nevertheless, they still shuffled into a not-so-perfect line, and quite a few sneakily flitted to the back. Clearly, preparing for the worst-case scenarios of fighting a troll or taking a test… back of the line meant more time to prepare… or better opportunity to run.
Iris waited until the doors opened, taking up the back of the line as they finally began shuffling out. Interest peaked in her features as she slowly gained a better sight of the room ahead.
The Great Hall.
Great was an understatement, a fact Iris showed to be in agreement with as her eyes widened just a fraction.
Upon entering, one could only have their eyes drawn to one place, and that was immediately the seemingly thousands of floating candles. And from there, the only natural path was just beyond the candles… further up to the ceiling. It was either glass so clear it was invisible to the naked eye or actually just no glass… the ceiling could only be the sky itself… although with the strange way it wavered, perhaps it was magic depicting the sky. Whatever it was… it was breathtaking to look at. The stars every bit as clear as you could hope them to be.
Of course, the rest of the hall was worth looking at. The four tables running down the length of the hall. The staff tables were at the very end, just before the tall stained glass windows. There was some sort of owl lectern front and center on the platform. There was a fireplace to the side. And the hall was adorned by different representations of the four Hogwarts Houses, table runners, banners, and a few statues.
Maybe except for the extort itself… this was so far the best view they had yet to see.
The students came to a slow stop just before the staff tables. Standing between two of the student tables, in annoyingly perfect view for far too many eyes. Iris just focused her attention forward… watching as Mcgonagall placed a hat upon a stool.
Head tilting, she eyed poor looking thing curiously. The hall quieted, and the first years glanced around, their unasked questions answered only a second later when the hat came to life.
Moving a bit and opening its mouth, it began a song.
Listen closely, young wizard's ear
A new journey's waiting for you here
Where spells are cast, and dragons soar
And a house you'll find, you're meant to be more
Oh sorting hat, so wise and true
We trust in you, to guide us through
This world of magic, mystery and might
And find the place, where we'll shine bright
The houses are four, each with its own flair
Gryffindor, where bravery's the share
Hufflepuff, where loyalty's the key
Ravenclaw, where knowledge sets you free
Oh sorting hat, so wise and true
We trust in you, to guide us through
This world of magic, mystery and might
And find the place, where we'll shine bright
And then there's Slytherin, with cunning and wit
The path they choose, not everyone fits
But those who do, they'll make their mark
And leave their legacy, in the wizarding dark
Oh sorting hat, so wise and true
We trust in you, to guide us through
This world of magic, mystery and might
And find the place, where we'll shine bright
So listen well, and don't be shy
And let the sorting hat, show you the way to fly
To reach your destiny, in this magical land
And find the house, where you'll take a stand.
The room broke into applause—the hat performing a bow of sorts, doing a funny kind of bend of the tip of the wizard's hat.
Quieting the few whispers of low conversations, Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment.
And so the sorting commenced.
The students were called in alphabetical order, Iris being the exception as a girl with the surname Blanchard was followed by the 'C's. Once called upon, you would walk up the steps and sit atop the stool where the hat would be placed upon your head. After a minute of thought and quiet muttering, the hat called out a house. This was usually followed by cheers, the only exception being the green house, which seemed to be alone in receiving boos. Something that left the table rather dark looking; however, their cheers increased with every boo to counter.
Naturally, gazes fell upon Iris. Curious as to why the older girl was there. Why someone who clearly was not a first-year was being sorted. Why a new face was just now joining along in their school years.
Iris, however, was oblivious to the attention… cause Iris had her attention elsewhere…
Iris was tense.
The man had a scarred face but a kind one nonetheless. He seemed tired and, just as everyone else, curiously eyed the teen who seemed focused on him. His eyes filled with the questions of trying to place who she was. The distance hid a few features, but he had that look… that look that screamed recognition. The final piece just at the edge of his mind…. The final piece to unlock the memory just hadn't been revealed yet.
The two stared each other down, both only faintly aware as the woman in emerald green moved on to the moment everyone was waiting for.
"This year, we have a new student from the U.S. beginning her third year. I expect everyone to make her adjustment as easy as we do for our first years." Taking a breath, the woman finally gave that last piece to the puzzle.
"Blackwell, Iris."
Five seconds of what looked like nothing but was very much so everything.
Of the recognition.
Of teachers connecting the dots.
Of Iris tearing her eyes away from the man who suddenly seemed wide awake and more curiously... broken.
Iris walked, head held high to the stool. She sat with the grace of a thousand queens. She stared forward as if nothing had happened. As if the hesitation never existed.
The hat had just barely touched the girl's hair before it quickly shouted out the lone word.
Perhaps it was the cheers from the chosen house. Or perhaps the shock the other students seemed to face as the beauty strides toward the cheers. Or even maybe the shock the teachers still seemed to be under.
Or, maybe, it was all playing a role in how no one seemed to register the flinch performed by the Sorting Hat the second it neared the young teen's head.