Pre-story announcements:

Happy New Years everyone!

First off, I really do apologize for taking so long to make this chapter a reality. Outside of family emergencies, getting a job, and countless chapter rewrites, this chapter has finally been completed!

Now, while we begin the New Year with a new chapter, please note I have been considering this chapter and its ramifications through HEAVILY and its impacts throughout the series. Hell, I rolled many dice and conducted said rewrites for the entertainment value. With how things went, this will be the result! With your contributions and participation, the sorting hat will favor the most logical house.

That is the only hint I'll share!

If there is an issue with the chapter, please do DM me so I can respond effectively!

Now, let the chapter... BEGIN

Major Edits: Thank you all for pointing out the mistakes that I had forgot to go by and patch up! As you can see, this chapter was a really big thorn on my side in trying to get right. So, thank you reviewers for pointing everything out and making sure everything made sense, I didn't realize how many errors were actually there after passing out from making the chapter! (And yes, I did CTRL+F to find every instance of the errors listed before re-reading the rest of the story.)

Harry Potter: Goetian Beginnings

Chapter XIII: The Sorting

Forbidden Forest, Mortal Realm

September 1st, 1991

In the edge of the Forbidden Forest, under the velvet expanse of the night sky, Nebula, the Void Dragoness, perched majestically on a cliffside. Her luminescent violet scales shimmered ethereally, casting a soft glow amidst the dense canopy. Beside her, a group of Owlfolk stood in quiet vigilance, their feathered and humanoid forms silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Their feathers, a palette of dusky browns and greys, rustled gently in the cool night breeze, and their large, wise eyes were fixed on the distant spectacle unfolding by the shores of the great lake.

Below them, the Hogwarts Express had just arrived, its scarlet steam engine gleaming under the watchful eye of the moon. Students, like a tide of youthful exuberance, disembarked eagerly, their laughter and chatter rising to the cliff where Nebula and the Owlfolk watched. The grand spires of Hogwarts stood tall and proud in the distance, bathed in the silver luminescence of the moon, casting long, serene shadows across the lake's still waters.

One of the Owlfolk, a sage old owls named Thalos, turned his gaze towards Nebula. "The young ones have returned," he observed in a voice that was both a whisper and a hoot. "The wards of Stolas, they walk amongst them, cloaked in their human guises."

Nebula's star-lit eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Octavius and Octavia, the Goetian demons now appearing as mere Hogwarts students, blending seamlessly with their peers. "Yes," she replied, her voice a melodic rumble that resonated with the ancient wisdom of her kind. "Octavius and Octavia tread a delicate path, balancing their true nature with the mortal world's expectations."

Thalos nodded, his eyes reflecting the myriad stars above. "Their father entrusts their safety to us. The weight of such a responsibility is not lost on me."

Nebula tilted her majestic head, the moonlight playing off her iridescent scales. "Nor on me, Thalos. But fear not, for they are strong, and we are ever watchful. The forest is our domain, and within its embrace, they shall find sanctuary should they come here in these dangerous woods."

Hogwarts Grounds, Mortal Realm

September 1st, 1991

Hagrid, his massive frame cloaked in a weather-worn coat, gestured to the first-year students gathered around him. "All right, you lot. Down to the docks with you! Pair up, take a lantern, and mind you don't fall in."

Shadows splayed out before him as the first-years followed, their faces a kaleidoscope of wonder and apprehension. Among them was Octavius, his appearance nondescript but for the inscrutable gleam in his eyes. Flanking him were Octavia and Gylfie, their every step as tightly synchronized as their beating hearts.

As they approached the docks, wood groaned under the weight of so many hopes and fears. Before them lay a fleet of humble rafts, each featuring a lantern that glowed with the soft warmth of old parchment. Hagrid's voice reverberated again, "Two to a raft!" He handed out lanterns like precious talismans as the students gingerly climbed aboard.

Octavius and Gylfie found themselves side by side, their lantern casting an inviting circle of light that seemed to render the surrounding darkness less absolute. The rafts set off, carried by water that rippled and whispered to the night sky. Above, the moon hung heavy and luminous, a silver Snitch against the velvet backdrop of the stars.

The castle loomed before them, gradually separating itself from the shrouds of mist that cloaked its lower ramparts. Gasps echoed around the flotilla as the first-years beheld the sight. It was as if each student was trying to imprint the moment on their memories, capturing that first, breathtaking vision of Hogwarts. Some reached for their wands, twirling them nervously between their fingers; others seemed too entranced to move at all.

Gylfie broke the hush, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "It's even more beautiful than I'd imagined."

Octavius hummed and leaned into Gylfie. "Wait until we get inside."

"The Sorting Ceremony awaits," Gylfie spoke, her voice a whisper barely audible above the muted splashing. "They say it peers into the deepest recesses of your soul, laying it bare for the entire school to see."

Octavius, amused but also intrigued, tilted his head, "Ah, but isn't that a touch dramatic? As I understand, an antiquated hat simply deciphers our attributes and sorts us into houses. It's a magically endowed hat, sure, but I doubt it would violate our inner sanctum for public consumption."

Gylfie chuckled at the thought, humbled at the intercession of his wordplay. "My, aren't you the speaker of higher class." She chuckled, to which Octavius merely leered closer to simply whisper.

"Plura loqui possum si vis." Octacius whispered, casually

It was at this point that a voice punctured their intimate sphere of conversation. Hermione Granger, sitting in a nearby raft with Ron, couldn't help but interject. "Oh, you've got it somewhat skewed. The Sorting Hat is certainly ancient, but it doesn't publicly display your inner thoughts. It's more like a personal dialogue for your traits and even your own wishes contribute to the hat's final decision. All of this takes place in the privacy of your own mind."

Gylfie exhaled, clearly relieved. "So, it doesn't dissect our darkest secrets in front of an audience?"

"Absolutely not," Hermione assured, her words resonating with the tone of someone delighted to set the record straight. "It's a confidential exchange between you and the hat, held sacred through potent magic that respects individual discretion."

"Ah, a rite of mutual accord," Octavius concluded, nodding in approval. "The hat doesn't merely impose its judgment on us; it allows us a degree of agency in the matter."

"Exactly," Hermione confirmed, clearly pleased to have encountered such a receptive audience for her corrections.

Perched regally on Octavius' shoulder, Nocturne, the male Void Dragon, cast his gaze upwards, as if drawn magnetically to the celestial ballet of stars that arched across the heavens. His eyes glowing a violet shade, merely looked into the night sky, gazing at the stars and constellations that hung over them this night.

"Is the Draco constellation still on your mind?" Octavius asked Nocturne, scratching his scaled neck.

"What if Heaven already vanquished it? What remains of Draco after your confrontations with the Archangel? Is it's light the only thing we will see from it before Heaven wipes it clean?" Nocturne asked.

"I don't know Nocturne, but your people have a home now, and they can live freely from the eyes of Heaven and God."

As the rafts slid into the underground docks, Ron Weasley's face was a study in disgruntlement, his earlier awe at the looming castle replaced by a furrowed brow and a glower that could rival any storm cloud after Hermione's corrections. "I can't believe Fred and George," he grumbled, loudly enough for those in adjacent rafts to hear. "They said the Sorting Ceremony includes a test of pain tolerance, some sort of magical initiation involving flesh-eating slugs!"

Octavius and Gylfie exchanged a glance, both aware that the mythologies and rumors surrounding the Sorting Ceremony were as varied as the students who attended Hogwarts.

It was Estrella, her eyes twinkling like the stars above, who addressed Ron's concern. "Pain, you say? In my experience, the only real pain you need to worry about here is the sting of gossip. Hogwarts can be as much a breeding ground for rumors as it is for magic."

Dusk, unable to contain his amusement, let out a hearty laugh. "Ah, in that case, Noctus here should be quaking in his boots!"

Noctus, who had been quietly taking in the scenery, gave Dusk a mock scowl. "Oh, come on, I'm not that bad. But seriously, Ron, don't sweat it. The Sorting Ceremony isn't about pain; it's about finding where you best fit. Think of it as your first step on the road to understanding yourself better."

Ron's expression eased a little, but he still seemed skeptical. "So, you're all certain there's no chance of, you know, getting eaten by a magical hat or something?"

Hermione sighed, her patience wearing thin but her desire for accurate information prevailing. "Ron, the hat has been sorting students for more than a thousand years. If it ate students, don't you think we'd have heard about it by now?"

At Hermione's words, the tension in Ron's face seemed to unravel, leaving behind a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well, when you put it like that..."

As the rafts glided toward the looming silhouette of Hogwarts Castle, they passed close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest—a dense, dark wilderness that served as home to many mysterious creatures. Tonight, however, the forest seemed to harbor something even more unusual, if not altogether extraordinary.

Draco Malfoy, sitting a raft away and always keen on affecting a display of casual arrogance, raised a hand to point at the forest. "What are those? Glowing winged creatures, can you see them?"

He was right. The figures were there, owl-like beings with humanoid forms, framed by the moonlight. Their wings spread wide, as if in observation, each feather shimmering in a slight moonlight radiance. It was as though the moon had lent them a boon, and they held spears and arrows that appeared forged from the light of the stars themselves.

Hagrid, the colossal figure, overheard Draco's observation and loudly cautioned the young wizards and witches. "Be steerin' clear o' the Forbidden Forest. Dunno what those creatures might be up to, I don't, but none of yer lot are allowed to go there; schools rules and all."

Octavius, standing on his own raft beside Gylfie and Nocturne—who remained perched on his shoulder—felt a pull to address the giant groundskeeper's concerns. He made his way over to Hagrid's raft, drawing close enough to speak softly, his words cutting through the still night air like a well-aimed spell. "Sir, those beings are not as fearsome as they may appear. They are sentinels, of a sort. Kindred spirits, if you will. They mean no harm unless harmed."

Hagrid looked down at him, curiosity etching lines on his rugged face. "An' how d' yeh know all this, then?"

"Sir, the House of Goetia has long-standing traditions of lore that include knowledge of many beings, even those one might consider arcane or esoteric," he revealed, his eyes capturing the fleeting luminescence of the night. "These owl-like guardians are known to us. I suspect they may be present because we Goetians are here as well."

Hagrid furrowed his brow, his eyes flicking from Octavius to the spectral figures in the Forbidden Forest and back again. "Yeh think they're here 'cause of yeh and yer lot?" His voice held a note of incredulity but also a hint of newfound respect.

"Creatures of magic often feel the resonance of other magical beings, particularly those with whom they share some affinity," Octavius replied, casting a glance over his shoulder at Estrella, Dusk, Francesco, and Noctus, who were all absorbed in their own conversations and either not caring or unable to hear what transpired between them. "To which we Goetians are especially related."

Hagrid nodded, his expression contemplative. "Well, if yeh say they're no danger, I'll take yer word for it. But keep in mind, Hogwarts has its own ways, its own secrets. Best to be prepared for anything."

The first-year students disembarked from their rafts, their feet touching the wooden dock with varying degrees of hesitancy and excitement. Hagrid had already clambered off his own vessel and was fumbling around in his moleskin overcoat, presumably searching for some tool or magical item that would facilitate their next phase of the journey.

Octavius stood a bit apart from the general throng, his posture impeccable but relaxed, his eyes fixed on the distant castle but also observing everything around him. Nocturne, perched on his shoulder, turned his enigmatic eyes toward Octavius. Then, with a subtlety that could easily be missed, Octavius's eyes flickered for a moment and the Void Dragon closed his eyes for a mere moment, establishing the psychic link that would connect Octavius with his friends.

Telepathically, Octavius initiated the conversation. "The Sorting Hat ceremony is impending. We need to decide our strategy concerning the Houses. Ideas?"

Dusk was the first to respond, his mental tone brimming with a confident flair. "Why don't we split into pairs? That way, no one is alone in any House for the next seven years. It's strategic, and it keeps our influence spread."

Octavia's presence filtered through, tinged with a note of thoughtful consideration. "A sensible proposal. It would mitigate the isolation any of us might feel."

Estrella's mental voice chimed in, a melodic and supportive hum. "I'm in favor. It keeps us connected yet diversified."

The other voices—Gylfie, Francesco, and Noctus—came through in quick succession, expressing variations of agreement. The consensus was clear, and Octavius found himself nodding, both in his mind and ever-so-slightly in the physical world.

Very well, Octavius conveyed, sealing the pact. "We proceed with this plan. Pairs it is."

Just then, Draco Malfoy sidled up to Octavius, disrupting his telepathic communion. "Goetia," he drawled, eyeing Nocturne with a flicker of both interest and curiosity, "any idea which House you're aiming for? Slytherin, I presume?"

Octavius looked at Draco, his eyes thoughtful but also slightly amused, as if privy to a joke that only he could fully appreciate. However, since when did he start using his last name as his actual name?

"You see, Malfoy, it does not matter to me what House I would choose, as in truth the purpose of every house by it's history represents itself differently in every era."

Seeing he had Draco's full attention, Octavius continued, "Slytherin, for instance, offers merit in its teachings of logic and cunning, not to mention its unparalleled network among wizarding nobility. Yet, one shouldn't ignore the virtues of the other Houses."

Draco looked intrigued, albeit slightly annoyed that he couldn't get a straightforward answer. "So, you're saying you're not necessarily tied to Slytherin? Your kind usually goes there, you know."

Octavius's eyes shone with a mystical flicker, not pleased with such an answer. "You'd be well to remind yourself I am not the subject of a label to be categorized by. My weight on the matter is based on my merit and not by my status. It would behoove of you to understand that not everything is about influence, cunning, or power; but beyond that which is of virtue and enlightenment. Like courage and empathy, for those brings forth the greatness of all around you, even those who are outside the merit of a nobility."

Nocturne, who had been quietly observing the interaction, adjusted his stance on Octavius's shoulder to look at Malfoy, his eyes shimmering in an otherworldly manner.

Draco, usually so assured in his own estimations, found himself pausing to measure the weight of Octavius's words. The shimmering, enigmatic eyes of the Goetian prince seemed to pierce into him, challenging his assumptions in a subtle yet commanding manner.

"Courageous, you say? That sounds rather Gryffindor-ish, wouldn't you agree?" Draco replied, a quirk lifting one corner of his mouth, half-smirking and half-probing.

Octavia elegantly made her way through the throng of students, arriving beside her brother just as Draco was formulating another retort. Her eyes, mirroring Octavius's own enchanting gaze, settled on the Malfoy heir with a look of control.

"Mr. Malfoy," Octavia interjected, her voice cool but laced with an unmistakable undercurrent of authority, "you might address my brother as befitting of our name and you intend with jest on the manners of your light speech. But pray, do not forget that you also converse with a member of a noble house. In both the lines of nobility and the weight of influence, titles and lineage have their weight. It would behoove you to offer the same respect you so ardently seek for your own family."

Octavius turned his eyes to meet his sister's, giving her a slight, grateful nod. Then, redirecting his radiant gaze at Draco, his bearing grew notably more regal, almost as if he'd puffed up like a majestic bird asserting its dominion.

The air around them seemed to thicken with a kind of solemn intensity. Draco, finding himself sandwiched between these two formidable presences, sensed the pivot in their dynamic. His gaze shifted from Octavia back to Octavius, who returned it with an inscrutable calmness that seemed to say, 'Choose your next words carefully.'

The sudden shift in Octavius's demeanor was not lost on Draco. For the first time since their conversation began, the usually self-assured Slytherin seemed to consider his words with more caution. Draco straightened his collar subtly, a small sign that he was re-evaluating the playing field. "My apologies," he finally said, choosing diplomacy over bravado. "I meant no offense. Houses aside, Hogwarts is a place where all kinds of... unexpected alliances can form. Don't you agree?"

The atmosphere seemed to lighten just a fraction, the charged particles of unspoken tension diffusing into the ether. Octavius offered Draco a small, approving nod. "Indeed, Mr. Malfoy."

With the spell of tension slightly broken, Hagrid's voice boomed again through the night air. "We'd best be movin', you lot. Professor McGonagall's waitin'."

Hogwarts, Mortal Realm

September 1st, 1991

At the top of the steps stood Professor Minerva McGonagall, her emerald green robes flowing, her expression stern yet imbued with a hint of warmth. Her eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the incoming students. They lingered momentarily on Octavius and Octavia, a flicker of curiosity - or was it caution? - passing through her gaze. But she quickly masked it with her usual composed demeanor and began to address the gathered students.

Now, as she watched them join the other students, her concern deepened. The ease with which Octavius and Octavia had traversed the castle's magical defenses many weeks before hinted at powers beyond the ordinary. Dumbledore made her aware of their prowess, and all it could do was make her worry. It was not just their magical abilities that worried her, but the implications of their heritage. What did it mean for Hogwarts, a place of learning and tradition, to host individuals whose very existence challenged the norms of the wizarding world?

Her gaze lingered on Octavius. Was he more Harry Potter or more demon? The question plagued her. The boy – if he could still be called that – was an enigma. In him, the lines between human and supernatural blurred, creating a pool too complex for even her experienced mind to unravel.

Clearing her throat, she began. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she started, her voice clear and commanding. "Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Her eyes briefly met those of Octavius and Octavia again, a silent acknowledgment of the unique path these two were about to tread within these ancient walls. She continued, "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

As she continued speaking, she observed Octavius. The witch couldn't help but wonder about his true nature. Was he more Harry Potter, the boy who had mysteriously vanished, or more the demon that his Goetian heritage suggested? His calm demeanor and the subtle, almost imperceptible aura of power that surrounded him made her wary. She was aware of the potential risks his presence could bring, not just to himself but to the entire Wizarding world.

"The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly."

As the figure of Professor McGonngal left, Octavius turned to Gylfie and Octavia, motioning them subtly to his side. The trio stood slightly apart from the other first-year students, their presence marked by an aura of quiet confidence. "Listen," Octavius spoke, his voice low yet carrying a firm resolve, "no matter what houses we end up in, I'll make sure we can meet. We'll find a way to connect, in secret if we must."

His words were a promise, a vow that no matter the physical barriers set by the ancient Hogwarts houses, they would not be constrained. His statement, however, caught the ear of Hermione Granger, who had been standing nearby. Her curiosity piqued, she couldn't help but interject. "But each House is separately protected," she said, her tone a mix of skepticism and intrigue. "The Founders charmed them to be distinct and secure. It's not possible to move freely between them without being caught or trapped."

Estrella, overhearing the exchange, let out a soft chuckle. She looked at Hermione with a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps for most, but I wouldn't underestimate Octavius and Octavia," she remarked confidently. "If there's a way, they'll find it. Hogwarts' enchantments are strong, but so are they."

Hermione, taken aback by Estrella's confidence, looked back at the trio, reassessing them. In her experience, Hogwarts had always been a place of rules and order, but she couldn't deny the intrigue that these new students brought with them. They seemed to possess an air of mystery and capability that suggested they were not to be underestimated.

Octavius, catching Hermione's contemplative look, offered her a small, enigmatic smile However, before he could act on anything else... The ghosts of Hogwarts, ethereal and timeless, began to emerge, floating gracefully around the students.

The first to appear was Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor House, gliding through the crowd with his head teetering precariously on his neck. His semi-translucent form, clad in a ruffled Elizabethan collar and tunic, drifted elegantly among the students, offering polite nods and a toothy smile that seemed both eerie and welcoming.

Following closely was the Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, her silvery form shimmering softly in the candlelight. Her appearance was serene, her expression thoughtful, as if perpetually lost in some profound contemplation. Her long, flowing robes seemed to blend seamlessly with the air around her as she moved with a grace that belied her tragic past.

From another corner of the Great Hall, the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House, made his silent approach. His dark, blood-stained robes and the clinking of the chains he wore served as a stark contrast to the lively chatter of the students. His stern, almost menacing presence commanded a certain respect, and even the most boisterous of students fell silent as he passed.

Not to be outdone, the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's jovial ghost, floated amongst the newcomers with a hearty laugh and a wide, friendly grin. His plump form, dressed in monk's robes, exuded a sense of warmth and cheerfulness that seemed to light up the hall even more.

Nearly Headless Nick, buoyant as ever, approached the group of Octavius, Octavia, Gylfie, and Estrella. "Ah, new students!" he exclaimed with a cheerful, if slightly wobbly, bow. "The Sorting Hat ceremony, a momentous occasion indeed! Any thoughts on which house you might be sorted into?"

The Grey Lady, gliding silently near, cast her penetrating gaze upon Octavius and Octavia. "I remember seeing you both here a few weeks ago," she remarked in a soft, almost whisper-like voice. "Quite unusual for students to visit Hogwarts before the term begins."

At her words, a ripple of murmurs spread among the surrounding students, their curiosity piqued by this revelation. Octavius, however, remained composed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, the tour was quite enlightening," he responded calmly. "Hogwarts has many secrets to offer, doesn't it?"

The Bloody Baron, overhearing the conversation, floated closer, his piercing eyes fixed on Octavius. "A tour, you say? And which house caught your fancy during this visit?" he asked, his voice deep and echoing, yet tinged with an undeniable curiosity.

Before Octavius could respond, the Fat Friar cheerfully interjected, "Oh, I do hope we get a few more in Hufflepuff! We're always happy to welcome new faces!"

Octavius, amused by the ghosts' interest, offered a noncommittal reply. "Each house has its merits. I guess we'll see where the Sorting Hat believes we belong," he said, maintaining an air of mystery.

As the ghosts continued to probe, their curiosity unsatisfied, Professor McGonagall re-entered the hall, her timely arrival drawing the attention of the first years. "Alright, students, it's time," she announced, her voice cutting through the buzz of conversation. "Please follow me into the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony."

The students, including Octavius and his friends, quickly fell into line, their excitement palpable as they prepared to enter the Great Hall. The ghosts, still floating nearby, exchanged glances, their ethereal forms fading as they made their way back to their respective house tables.

As they walked, Hermione leaned in towards Octavius and whispered, "That was quite clever, keeping them guessing like that."

Octavius just winked in response, his confidence unshaken as they stepped into the assembly of students, staff, and professors in the grand chambers. The vast chamber, stretching out before them, was a testament to the grandeur and history of the school. Towering marble columns lined the sides, supporting the high, arched ceiling that was one of Hogwarts' most enchanting features. Above them, the enchanted ceiling reflected the night sky, a breathtaking canvas of twinkling stars and the gentle glow of the moon, creating the illusion of dining under the open heavens.

The Great Hall was filled with rows of long tables, each adorned with the colors and crests of the four Hogwarts houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Hundreds of students, already sorted into their houses in previous years, were seated, their faces alight with excitement and anticipation. As the first-year students filed into the Great Hall, the magnificent chamber buzzed with the excited murmurs of hundreds of young witches and wizards. The cavernous room, lit by thousands of floating candles, cast a warm, inviting glow over the four long house tables, each adorned with their house colors. The enchanted ceiling, mirroring the starry night sky outside, added to the room's enchantment, making the Great Hall appear both grand and infinite.

Among the first years, Octavius Goetia stood out. Whispers and stares followed him as he walked down the center aisle towards the Sorting Hat. Rumors had spread like wildfire through Hogwarts: Octavius was none other than Harry Potter, the boy who had vanished so many years ago. His presence in the hall, coupled with the small dragon, Nocturne, perched casually on his shoulder, only fueled the students' curiosity. Nocturne, with its shimmering scales and piercing eyes, was a sight of power and a clear deviation from the usual pets brought by Hogwarts students.

Older students leaned in to get a better look, their expressions a mix of disbelief and intrigue. Some whispered excitedly to each other, speculating about Octavius's identity and the extraordinary circumstances of his return. Others regarded him with a hint of concern, knowing that the presence of a dragon, however small, within the school's walls was unusual and potentially worrisome. Some focused intently on his friends and supposedly his step-sister, to which some would receive a glare from her in return.

The staff table, lined with Hogwarts professors, also showed signs of interest. While maintaining their composed demeanor, they discreetly observed Octavius, no doubt aware of the implications his arrival might have for the school. Headmaster Dumbledore, in particular, watched with a thoughtful expression, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses.

As Octavius and the other first years made their way down the aisle between the house tables, they could feel the weight of the moment upon them. The Sorting Hat, placed on a stool at the front of the hall, awaited them, an ancient and wise artifact ready to determine their fate for the next seven years. At this sentiment, Octavius turned to address his fellow students. His voice, though calm, carried an encouraging tone that resonated with the anxious students around him as they walked. "Remember, the Sorting Hat takes your choices into consideration, especially if your talents align differently," he said, his eyes scanning the faces of the first years. "It's not just about where you come from, but who you are, and who you choose to be."

Ron Weasley, who had been nervously fidgeting with his robes, looked up at Octavius's words. His family's long history with Gryffindor was a source of both pride and pressure for him. Octavius noticed Ron's apprehension and added, "Ron, you don't need to be fixated on your family's history in Gryffindor. Consider your abilities, like your knack for chess. It's a strategic skill that might align well with another house." Ron's eyes widened slightly, contemplating this new perspective.

Octavius then turned his attention to Draco Malfoy, who stood with a confident, almost arrogant posture, his chin held high. "And Draco," Octavius continued, "even if family lineage pushes you in one direction, remember that the Sorting Hat looks beyond that. It sees your potential, your qualities, and your choices."

Draco, caught off guard by the comment, met Octavius's gaze. Behind his usual façade of superiority, there was a flicker of curiosity, a hint that he, too, was considering the weight of Octavius's words.

The other first years, listening intently, began to murmur among themselves, reassessing their preconceived notions about the Sorting process. Gathering at the end of the isle in the Great Hall, with many eyes wide with desire, Professor Minerva McGonagall prepared to address the group. Standing tall and authoritative at the front of the hall, she surveyed the students with a stern gaze that commanded respect. Professor McGonagall gently raised her hand, signaling them to stop. The hall, already quiet with anticipation, fell into a deeper silence. The students' eyes were fixed on the professor as she spoke.

"Before we begin," Professor McGonagall said in her clear, authoritative voice, "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

All heads turned towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore stood up, his presence commanding yet comforting. The hall watched in respectful silence as he adjusted his half-moon glasses and prepared to address the students. His eyes, always twinkling with a mixture of wisdom and mirth, swept over the assembly.

"Welcome," Dumbledore began, his voice both gentle and powerful, "to another year at Hogwarts! Now, I have a few start-of-term notices to announce."

The students leaned in, ready to absorb the wisdom and directives of their beloved headmaster.

"First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden," he continued, his tone slightly firmer to convey the seriousness of this rule. There was a nodding of heads among the students, acknowledging the well-known fact that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits.

"And finally," Dumbledore added, "Also our caretaker, Mister Filch has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side, is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." This last announcement was met with anxious glances among the first years, while the older students appeared to take the warning in stride, having known this ahead of time.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he concluded his speech, and he gave a nod to Professor McGonagall, signaling that she could proceed with the Sorting Ceremony. McGonagall unrolled her scroll of names as The Sorting Hat began to sing:

"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 folk 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!"

Professor McGonagall, holding a long roll of parchment, stood at the front beside an old wooden stool on which sat an ancient, patched wizard's hat – the Sorting Hat. She called the first student's name: "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the Hat, which fell right over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause, and then the rip near the brim opened like a mouth and the Hat shouted, "Hufflepuff!" Hannah Abbott took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and scurried to the Hufflepuff table amid cheers from her new housemates.

"I'm going to kill Fred," Ron muttered, half to himself.

He leaned towards Ron, his eyes glinting with humor. "Just be careful not to kill George by mistake," Octavius joked.

Each student that was called nervously approached the stool, placed the Sorting Hat on their head, and waited with bated breath to hear their house assignment.

"Bones, Susan!" was called, and after a brief moment with the hat, she was sorted into Hufflepuff, the table erupting into cheers as she joined her new housemates.

"Boot, Terry!" was next, and he was quickly sorted into Ravenclaw, to the delight of his new house.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" followed, also joining the ranks of Ravenclaw.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then took her turn under the hat, which announced Slytherin as her house.

The ceremony progressed, with each name and sorting bringing a mixture of cheers and applause from the respective house tables. The Great Hall was alive with the energy and excitement that always accompanied the Sorting Ceremony.

Finally, it was Octavia's turn. "Goetia, Octavia!" called Professor McGonagall. Octavia walked gracefully to the stool, her demeanor calm. The hat barely touched her head before it called out, "Ravenclaw!" The Ravenclaw table clapped and cheered as Octavia joined her new house. Octavius looked to Octavia with a smirk, shaking his head as he knew what she just did.

"Nice to meet you too Ravenclaw Draco," He spoke telepathically to Via through Nocturne.

"You're just jealous that I am smarter than you," Octavia smiled as she took her seat.

"We'll decide that after this," Octavius smirked, just before he turned his head as the Sorting continued.

"Granger, Hermione!" was next. Hermione walked up to the stool, looking a bit nervous. The hat took a bit longer this time, finally announcing, "Ravenclaw!" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and went to join her new housemates, who welcomed her warmly.

"Oh, I did not see that coming." Octavius widened his eyes.

"I did." Perked Octavia again.

"Longbottom, Neville," came next. Neville approached the stool, looking particularly anxious. After a moment of contemplation, the hat declared, "Hufflepuff!" Neville, looking relieved, joined the Hufflepuff table to a round of supportive applause.

"Ok, I did not see that." Octavia chuckled.

"I knew you were one of us." Noctus chuckled in the communication link.

"Get a room, all of you." Dusk sighed.

"Hey, when did this get suggestive? I knew I should've packed my 'Bird and The Bees' book." Estrella chuckled.

"Concentrate, we have future alliances and rivalries to make." Octavius implied in the communication, now growing serious on the matter as Draco Malfoy was called up next.

"Malfoy, Draco," was called. With an air of confidence, Draco walked up to the stool. No sooner had the hat touched his head than it announced, "Slytherin!" Draco smirked slightly as he joined the Slytherin table, where he was welcomed with open arms.

"Potter, Ha—" Professor McGonagall began, but quickly corrected herself. "I mean, Goetia, Octavius."

At the mention of the name 'Potter,' every student in the hall had risen slightly from their seats, their attention snapping to the front. Whispers and murmurs filled the room, a wave of excitement washing over the students. Even Headmaster Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes sharp and inquisitive, clearly intrigued by the slip and the young boy now walking towards the stool.

Octavius, feeling the weight of every gaze in the hall, moved with a calmness that belied the storm of attention around him. As he approached Professor McGonagall, he could see the slight anxiety in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring nod before taking his place on the stool. McGonagall, steadying herself, placed the Sorting Hat onto his head.

Inside his mind, Octavius could hear the Sorting Hat's voice, sounding puzzled yet intrigued. "Ah, what do we have here? A most unusual case indeed. Harry Potter was it? Ah... no longer Harry Potter... Octavius... is it?" The Hat spoke openly, but then, when it started to speak more personally... Octavius would hear the hat in his thoughts. "Octavius Goetia. Raised by Stolas Goetia, he is known to me from The Key of Solomon. A unique upbringing, indeed. "

Octavius listened as the Hat continued, "You possess the rare gift of Sight, Seer, and yet your path is so distinctly different now. Where to place you, Octavius Goetia?"

The Hat paused, seemingly deep in thought. The Great Hall waited in silence, the tension almost tangible. After a moment, the Hat spoke again, this time audibly, "Octavius Goetia, please stand and pace."

Confused murmurs rippled through the hall as Octavius stood and began to pace in front of the stool. The act was unusual, unprecedented in the history of Hogwarts' Sorting Ceremonies. Dumbledore watched intently, his eyes never leaving Octavius, while McGonagall looked on, her face displaying a mix of surprise and curiosity.

The Hat continued to speak to Octavius as he walked, its voice a whisper in his mind. "Your heart and mind are torn between worlds, between what was and what is. You straddle lines that few ever dare to approach." The Hat delved deeper into Octavius's memories, unearthing his unique upbringing. "Ah, Stolas Goetia," it remarked with a hint of recognition. "Prince Stolas, known to few, but recognized for the stars and the herbs of the world. Godric Gryffindor himself once sought the relic associated with your guardian. It seems your existence has answered an old man's question."

The students and staff in the hall watched, intrigued by the unusual length of time the Sorting was taking. Whispers and speculations spread among them, all wondering about the nature of this mysterious new student.

The Hat's voice took on a tone of reflection. "You remind me so much of Godric's bravery, Helga's kindness, Salazar's ambition, and Rowena's wisdom. All at once, it's as if... as if Stolas crafted you to be a manifestation of all the founders. A mystery I may never unravel."

The murmurs in the hall grew louder, but they were mere background noise to Octavius, who was completely absorbed in the Hat's analysis.

"Sorting you is a challenge," the Hat admitted, speaking openly this time. "You fit into all houses yet none at the same time. Where should one such as you go?"

"Your ability to unite the lesser nobles into your circle shows a leadership and ambition worthy of Slytherin," the Hat began. "You have the cunning to navigate complex politics, a trait Salazar Slytherin himself would have admired."

"Yet, there's more to you," the Hat continued. "Your love and loyalty to your friends are profound, qualities that shine as brightly as any Hufflepuff's. You value hard work, fairness, and are unwavering in your support of those you hold dear."

The hall listened intently as the Hat elaborated on Octavius's character. "Furthermore, you possess bravery and a willingness to stand against injustice. You protect the smallest of creatures and work to restore the majestic, traits that echo the very best of Gryffindor."

Finally, the Hat moved to its last point. "But above all, your thirst for knowledge, your quest to understand the world, the stars, and beyond, aligns most closely with Ravenclaw. Your intellectual curiosity and wisdom are your most defining traits."

The hall waited in anticipation as the Sorting Hat made its final deliberation. Then, with a sense of finality, the Hat announced, "With all these considerations, the house that suits you best, where you will grow and thrive, is undoubtedly...

Ravenclaw!"

Octavius, now officially a Ravenclaw, made his way towards the Ravenclaw table. The students of Ravenclaw, known for their wit and love of learning, were particularly intrigued by their new housemate. His every step was observed by students from all houses, but it was the Ravenclaws who watched him with the keenest interest. Among them were known people Octavius recalled from his visions: Cho Chang, a year above Octavius. They, along with others like Padma Patil, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner, all displayed varying degrees of curiosity and admiration. He would recall one Luna Lovegood, who would join Hogwarts the following year. He would perceive all of them as being relevant to his academic progress, something he endurably appreciated outside of his inner circle.

Octavius walked towards the Ravenclaw table, his demeanor calm yet observant. He could feel the weight of every gaze upon him as he passed by the students from other houses. Whispers and speculative glances followed him, a testament to the deep curiosity he had sparked among his peers.

Upon reaching the Ravenclaw table, Octavius was immediately surrounded by his new housemates, each eager to learn more about him. Among them were known students such as Padma Patil, who regarded him with a mixture of awe and curiosity, and Terry Boot, whose eyes were alight with questions. Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein, both known for their keen intellect, looked at Octavius with an analytical gaze, already forming theories about his past and abilities.

"Is it true what the Sorting Hat said about you?" Padma asked, her voice tinged with fascination. "About your leadership and ambition?"

"And what about your stand against injustice? That sounds like something straight out of a legend," Terry chimed in, his curiosity evident.

Michael Corner, leaning in closer, added, "And this thirst for knowledge, for understanding the stars and more – it's remarkable. How did you come to possess such a trait?"

Octavius, acknowledging their questions with a slight nod, replied in a refined tone that carried the echoes of his upbringing in the noble courts of Hell. "Indeed, the Sorting Hat speaks truly. I was granted a second chance in life, one that I embrace with great pride within the House of Goetia. My mother, a paragon of sagacity and grace, taught me the intricate art of navigating nobility and the crucial significance of forging alliances. My father, on the other hand, imparted to me the vast knowledge of Astronomy, Astrology, Alchemy, and the diverse realms of the sciences."

"I've had the privilege of diverse experiences in my life, which have contributed greatly to my understanding of the world. My family has always emphasized the importance of education and broadening one's horizons."

A student, perhaps a bit too bold, commented with a hint of skepticism, "You speak like someone who's been around scholars all their life. Were your parents professors or something?"

Octavius's eyes narrowed slightly at the question. "While my family isn't from academia, they have always fostered a learning environment. It's imperative not to judge or assume based on superficial knowledge."

The student seemed taken aback by the firm yet respectful reply. The others exchanged glances, a new sense of respect forming for their new housemate.

Seeking to steer the conversation into more comfortable territory, Cho Chang, who had been observing quietly, asked, "How do you find Hogwarts compared to your previous experiences?"

As the conversation around Octavius continued, it was soon interrupted by the arrival of Octavia and Gylfie who stood from their seats at the Ravenclaw table to Octavius's side. The two girls gracefully made their way to the rescue of Octavius and kindly gestured each Ravenclaw that was sitting on both sides of Octavius to move aside, to which was easily complied to with an easy scoot. Octavia, with an air of calm assurance, and Gylfie, with her unmistakable vivacity, settled themselves on either side of Octavius, effectively halting the barrage of questions from the other students.

Octavia, sensing her brother's growing discomfort with the line of questioning, smiled warmly at him before turning to the others. "I hope you're all making my brother feel welcome," she said, her voice tinged with a playful yet protective tone.

Gylfie, with her characteristic enthusiasm, chimed in, "We thought we'd come and rescue Octavius from the interrogation squad. There's more to Hogwarts than just books and history, after all."

The atmosphere relaxed considerably with their arrival, and the conversation took a lighter turn. It was then that Hermione Granger, who had been observing the exchange from a distance, saw an opportunity to approach.

"Octavius," Hermione began, her voice kind and inquisitive, "I couldn't help but overhear your interest in diverse subjects. Do you also have an affinity for magical creatures? I find them absolutely fascinating."

Octavius, visibly more at ease with this change of topic, turned to Hermione with a genuine smile. "Indeed, I do. Magical creatures are a subject close to my heart. There's so much we can learn from them, not just about magic, but about the balance of nature and our role in it."

Hermione's eyes lit up with shared interest. "Have you had much experience with them? I've been reading about Nifflers recently. They're quite intriguing creatures."

"They indeed sound quite fascinating, and undoubtedly cute in their own way. However, in terms of charm, I find it hard to compare them to the majesty of Nocturne." He gestured subtly to his shoulder, where a small Void Dragon perched gracefully, its size magically reduced to fit comfortably in the Hogwarts environment.

The dragon, Nocturne, let out a soft, melodious squeak, almost as if it understood the conversation. Octavius gently scratched the soft spot on the dragon's neck, eliciting another delighted squeak from the creature. The sound, surprisingly tender and heartwarming, instantly captured the attention of everyone at the Ravenclaw table.

The children around him were visibly enchanted, their eyes wide with wonder as they observed the interaction between Octavius and his magical pet. The students' initial fascination with Octavius's mysterious background quickly gave way to their intrigue about his unusual companion.

"A dragon at Hogwarts!" exclaimed one student, eyes wide with amazement. "How are you allowed to have him here?"

Octavius smiled, understanding their curiosity. "Let's just say that special arrangements were made. Nocturne here is quite unique and doesn't pose any danger. He's been magically adapted to be a suitable companion within the school grounds."

The students looked on in sincere awe as the tiny dragon nuzzled affectionately against Octavius, its squeaks melting the hearts of those around him. Their initial skepticism about having a dragon in their midst was quickly overshadowed by Nocturne's undeniable charm.

"It's so cute!" another student whispered, eyes fixed on the small creature. "I've never seen anything like it."

Octavius considered his response, aware of the rarity and mystery surrounding Void Dragons. "Nocturne is a very rare breed, not commonly known in the wizarding world. He's quite different from the dragons you might read about in your textbooks."

As the students continued to observe Nocturne's interactions with Octavius, their fascination grew. The sight of a Hogwarts student with a dragon as a companion was not something they had ever expected to witness.

"Quiet, please!" Professor McGonagall's voice, firm and authoritative, easily carried over the noise, and the hall gradually fell into a respectful hush. Her eyes briefly lingered on Ron, offering a subtle nod of acknowledgment, before returning to the sorting list. The next name called was "Ronald Weasley," and Ron, looking a bit nervous, approached the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

To the surprise of many, including Ron himself, the Sorting Hat asked him to stand up and pace for a few seconds. The hall fell silent, everyone watching with bated breath. It was an unusual request, one that hadn't been seen in many years. Ron, slightly bewildered, complied, walking back and forth as the Hat seemed to be deep in thought.

Finally, the Sorting Hat's voice boomed throughout the Great Hall, "Ravenclaw!" The announcement was met with a stunned silence. Not even Fred and George could muster a joke here. It was Octavius who first broke the silence. With an understanding smile and a genuine sense of approval, he began to clap, his hands coming together in a warm, welcoming rhythm. His gesture, sincere and encouraging, was soon followed by the rest of the Ravenclaw table, as they joined in the applause, welcoming their new housemate.

Octavius and Octavia exchanged looks of genuine surprise. They had both envisioned Ron in Gryffindor, considering his family's history. Octavia's eyes sparkled with amusement, while Octavius's expression reflected a more contemplative demeanor. Telepathically, Octavia reached out to her brother, her thoughts tinged with both humor and curiosity. "Either this is fate aligning itself to bring you, Hermione, and now Ron together, or someone up there has a rather peculiar sense of humor."

Octavius responded in kind, his mental voice carrying a note of intrigue. "Indeed, it does seem like an odd coincidence. But then, god does like to intervene as well... we must be cautious." He would imply, soon clasping Ron's shoulder and nodding to him. "Good job Ron, I am happy you made a decision for yourself."

Ron, now seated at the Ravenclaw table, glanced around at his new housemates, still processing the reality of his sorting. The warm reception from Octavius and the others helped ease some of his initial shock. It was clear that while he might have expected to follow in his family's footsteps into Gryffindor, this new path in Ravenclaw held its own exciting possibilities.

Meanwhile, in the vibrant atmosphere of the Great Hall, the sorting of Octavius's companions into their respective houses began. Each house, with its distinct characteristics and values, welcomed its new members with open arms. As strangely enough, it looked like Octavius's inner circle was being broken apart. Noctus and Estrella, both exhibiting qualities of bravery and chivalry, had been sorted into Gryffindor. Dusk's history as a trained fighter and Estrella's witty and wild behavior sided the House with great cheer. They were welcomed with enthusiastic cheers from their new housemates, quickly becoming part of the Gryffindor House. Estrella would soon be seen setting off a magical prank against Fred and George when she sat down, causing Filch and some of the Professors to give obvious looks of worry at another prankster being added to the Weasley clan.

Francesco, with his amiable nature and strong sense of fairness, found his place in Hufflepuff. His loyalty and dedication were traits highly valued in the house of the badger. The Hufflepuffs around him greeted him with warm smiles and friendly pats on the back, making him feel instantly at home.

Dusk, whose cunning and ambition shone through, was sorted into Slytherin. His resourcefulness and determination were a perfect match for the house known for its cunning members. He was met with approving nods and sly grins as he took his seat at the Slytherin table, pleased with the outcome of learning what secrets Octavius's inner circle held for the benefit of their own ambitions and plans.

And yet, as Octavius observed these hints at what was to come, the young boy smiled as everything was going to plan. As Octavius's gaze swept over the Great Hall, taking in the lively scene of calm in their wake, before his eyes eventually met those of Professor Dumbledore. The old wizard, ever perceptive and wise, seemed to have noticed the subtle machinations at play. Raising his cup slightly towards Octavius, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a knowing glint, a silent acknowledgment of the boy's clever strategy.

Octavius, understanding the gesture, nodded subtly in return, a small smile playing on his lips. Dumbledore's silent approval was an affirmation that he had indeed made the right moves, and it caused the young Goetian to think more on the perspective of what Dumbledore was more pleased about. Was it the base fact that he had made plans of his own? No, he knew that anyone making plans for themselves and not in consideration of others was a natural distaste for those not included in the execution of it. Is it because of his House selection? That was what he saw before, in countless visions no matter what house he chose that was not Slytherin.

In truth, Octavius would not know without a confrontation about it.

But regardless, he did not care anyway when things were going in the path of least resistance.

As the final student was sorted and the Sorting Hat Ceremony drew to a close, the Great Hall buzzed with the excited chatter and movement of students settling into their respective house tables. Professor McGonagall, standing tall and dignified at the staff table, tapped her cup with a spoon, producing a clear, commanding sound that resonated through the hall, effectively drawing the attention of every student and silencing the room.

"Your attention please!"

The students turned their focus to the staff table, where Professor McGonagall, having ensured order and quiet, gracefully took her seat. This action paved the way for the much-anticipated moment of the evening. Professor Dumbledore, the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts, slowly stood up. His presence was one of quiet authority mixed with a twinkle of mirth that those familiar with him had come to expect and cherish.

The students watched in attentive silence, their eyes fixed on the Headmaster. Dumbledore's long silver beard and half-moon spectacles, his kind and wise eyes, and his iconic tall hat made him a figure of both respect and endearment.

With a warm smile gracing his features, Dumbledore spread his arms wide, as if embracing the whole hall, and spoke in a voice that, despite its softness, carried to every corner of the room. "Welcome," he began, his eyes twinkling as they swept across the sea of students, "to another year at Hogwarts!"

His welcoming words were met with smiles and nods, a shared sentiment of excitement and anticipation for the year ahead filling the hall.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I have just a few words to say before we all become too engrossed in our delightful feast. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

The students, particularly the first-years, looked around in bemusement, but those familiar with Dumbledore's quirky ways chuckled knowingly. It was a tradition, these odd, seemingly nonsensical words that somehow perfectly encapsulated the whimsical and profound nature of the Headmaster.

With a final, knowing smile, Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Let the feast begin!"

As if by magic, the golden plates and goblets before each student filled with a magnificent spread of foods: roasted meats, vegetables in various preparations, gravies and sauces, and all sorts of bread and pastries. The aromas wafted through the air, mixing with the sounds of delighted exclamations and the clatter of cutlery as the feast truly began. The atmosphere at the Ravenclaw table became increasingly lively. The students, fueled by curiosity and the excitement of the new term, turned their attention to Octavius, Octavia, and Gylfie. A barrage of questions began, ranging from their relationships with each other to the intriguing background of Octavius.

"Octavius, how did you and Octavia come to be related? Are you siblings by blood?" one of the students asked, their eyes flicking between the two.

Octavia answered, her tone light but informative. "We're not siblings by blood, but we share a bond that's just as strong. Our family ties are formed through shared experiences and mutual respect."

Another student, eyes wide with fascination, directed their question to Octavius, "And your father, how did he manage to change a Potter into a Goetian? Is it like a legal name change?"

Octavius, accustomed to such questions, replied with a calm, measured tone. "It's a bit more complex than a simple name change. My father, through certain magical means and rites, adopted me into the Goetian lineage. It's a process steeped in tradition and magic, far from the mundane legalities of this Ministry of Magic."

One of the students, a girl with a sharp gaze, leaned forward, her interest evident. "You mentioned the Ministry of Magic," she said, her voice laced with intrigue. "What's your opinion on them? They've been a topic of much discussion lately."

A flicker of something akin to disappointment crossed Octavius's face, his usually composed expression revealing a hint of his true feelings. "The Ministry," he began, his tone reflecting a mix of disapproval and contemplation, "has, in my view, lost much of its integrity in recent times. They seem to have strayed from their core purpose, entangled in bureaucracy and politics, often at the expense of what's truly important."

Hermione, who had been listening intently, her brows furrowed in concentration, suddenly interjected, her curiosity evident. "Octavius, does your opinion about the Ministry have anything to do with the incident involving your grandfather, and Nocturne? The one with the wizards attempting to take the dragon and punish you and your family?"

Octavius's expression became noticeably more serious at the mention of the incident. "Yes, Hermione, it does," he admitted, his voice taking on a darker tone. "That event was... enlightening, to say the least. The Ministry's agents acted with haste and aggression, disregarding the nuances of the situation and our own laws and customs of the Goetian House. The Ministry, in their zeal to maintain control, overstepped boundaries and made decisions that were not in line with the understanding and respect that such a situation demanded."

Hermione, picking up on his careful phrasing, nodded in understanding. "So, it's more about the Ministry's lack of flexibility and understanding when dealing with situations that fall outside their usual realm of experience?"

"Exactly," Octavius replied, relieved that she had grasped his meaning without delving deeper into the specifics of his background. "It's about understanding and respecting diversity in all its forms, and the need for a governing body to adapt and respond appropriately, rather than enforcing a one-size-fits-all approach."

At the conclusion of Octavius's words, Hermione absorbed his information and nodded. She had understood what he had meant, even if she had opinions on such matters. Octavius could see it, and he would merely give a small smile of appreciation as everyone's eyes were on him.

As dinner progressed, the students noticed something peculiar about Octavius, Octavia, and Gylfie's dietary choices. While they partook heartily in the pork dishes, they seemed to consciously avoid the chicken, an odd quirk that didn't go unnoticed. Meanwhile, Nocturne, displaying a hearty appetite, delved into his meal with gusto, devouring large portions alongside the trio.

In an unexpected turn of events, Ron, ever the fan of a good meal, found himself in an impromptu eating competition with Nocturne. The two of them, perhaps spurred by a mutual love for food or a simple desire to outdo each other, began consuming their meals at an astonishing rate. The spectacle drew laughter and cheers from the students around them, creating a lighthearted, jovial atmosphere.

While the others were engrossed in this amusing contest, Octavius's attention was drawn elsewhere. His gaze inadvertently landed on Professor Quirrell, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding eye contact. A sudden, unexplained burning sensation on his mark made Octavius tense. Instinctively, he realized that this discomfort was not just physical – it was a sign of Voldemort's presence, trying to infiltrate his mind.

However, whatever protections or powers Octavius possessed, likely inherited from his unique lineage, repelled Voldemort's invasive attempts. Sensing the Dark Lord's presence faltering, Octavius fixed Quirrell with a penetrating, almost demonic stare, his eyes momentarily flickering with an intense, otherworldly power.

"Voldemort," Octavius's voice echoed in the hidden presence within Quirrell, "you tread on dangerous ground. Attempt to peer into my mind again, and you'll find yourself facing powers beyond your comprehension. You do not know the depth of the forces you provoke."

Octavius's gaze returned to normal, the demonic flicker subsiding as he calmly continued his meal, giving no outward sign of the significant exchange that had just occurred. The dinner around him carried on, filled with laughter and chatter, blissfully unaware of the silent but potent confrontation that had unfolded. Octavius, however, remained vigilant, aware that he had just sent a clear message to one of the most feared dark wizards of all time.

Then again, what else was new?

Hogwarts, Mortal Realm

September 1st, 1991

"Alright, students, let's make our way to our houses," McGonagall announced in her usual no-nonsense tone. "Prefects, please lead your groups."

Octavius, along with Hermione, Ron, Octavia, Gylfie, and the rest of the Ravenclaw students, gathered their belongings. The group shared light conversation and laughter as they exited the Great Hall, their spirits high from the evening's entertainment.

The Ravenclaw prefects took the lead, guiding the group through the winding corridors of Hogwarts. The castle at night had a different feel, with shadows playing along the walls and the occasional portrait whispering as they passed. The Ravenclaw common room, known for its intellectual and airy ambiance, awaited them.

As they walked, Octavius and Hermione engaged in a deep conversation about the magical properties of certain rare potions ingredients, while Ron, still full from his eating contest, joked with Octavia and Gylfie about his newfound 'rivalry' with Nocturne.

Upon reaching the Ravenclaw common room, the group was greeted by the familiar sight of the bronze eagle knocker. The usual riddle ensued, presenting a challenging but intriguing puzzle that sparked a collaborative effort among the students. Once the riddle was solved, they were granted entry into the common room. The eagle knocker came to life, its voice echoing in the corridor. "I am taken from a mine, and shut up in a wooden case, from which I am never released, and yet I am used by almost every person. What am I?"

The students gathered around, murmuring among themselves as they pondered the riddle. Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration, and others whispered their guesses to each other, debating the possible answers. Octavius and Octavia refrained from answering, watching everyone struggle as they awaited their fellow Ravenclaws to answer.

Amidst the contemplation, Nocturne, who had been silently listening, spoke up unexpectedly. "Pencil," he said confidently, almost nonchalantly.

The group turned to him in surprise. Nocturne was known for his strength and appetite, but this display of quick wit caught them off guard. The eagle knocker, upon hearing the correct answer, swung open to allow entrance to the common room. Dragons were known for their strength and magical prowess, but displaying such quick intellect was not a common trait attributed to these mystical creatures.

"Wow, I didn't know dragons were good at riddles!" exclaimed one of the students, a look of astonishment on her face.

"Yeah, that was impressive," Ron added, his eyes wide. "I mean, I knew Nocturne was special, but solving Ravenclaw riddles? That's something else!"

Hermione, ever the scholar, looked intrigued. "This is fascinating. It suggests a level of cognitive abilities in dragons that isn't widely recognized. I wonder if it's specific to Nocturne or a general characteristic overlooked in dragon behavior studies."

Nocturne shrugged with a small grin, "I have my moments."

The students filed into the common room, their spirits lifted by the successful solving of the riddle and Nocturne's unexpected contribution. The Ravenclaw common room, with its tall ceilings, book-lined walls, and starry views, felt like a sanctuary of learning and contemplation. Some students immediately dispersed to their favorite nooks, ready to dive into late-night studies or unwind with a good book, while others gathered in small groups to chat and decompress from the day.

Octavius found a comfortable spot, pulling out a tome on ancient magical creatures, a subject that deeply interested him. Octavia and Gylfie joined a group of fellow students, their conversation a mix of lighthearted banter and discussions about the latest magical theories. The room, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the tall windows, was filled with the usual furnishings that encouraged both comfort and study. Plush armchairs were arranged in cozy circles, while tables laden with books and parchment were scattered throughout the space, offering plenty of opportunities for late-night studying or discussions.

Hermione, always eager to delve into academic discussions, spearheaded a conversation about the cognitive abilities of magical creatures, using Nocturne's aptitude as a starting point. "It's quite remarkable," she mused, "to think about the potential intelligence of creatures like dragons. It opens up so many questions for further research."

Octavius and Octavia joined in, sharing insights from their unique perspectives. They discussed various magical creatures they had encountered, adding depth and diversity to the conversation.

Ron, still marveling at Nocturne's riddle-solving, joked, "I'm starting to think Nocturne might do better than me in exams. Maybe he can take my place in the next one."

Laughter filled the room, and even Nocturne seemed to rumble in amusement at Ron's comment. Students gathered around, forming smaller groups, each embarking on their own discussions and debates. Some delved into the intricacies of magical creature lore, while others shared anecdotes and experiences from their encounters with different beasts.

In one corner of the room, a group of students pulled out a chess set, inviting Octavius and others to join in a friendly game. The intellectual challenge of chess was a popular pastime among Ravenclaws, and the games were often accompanied by lively banter and strategic discussions. However, Octavius offered Ron to take his place, something he knew the young boy would take great advantage of easily.

Octavia moved away from the group and walked over to a nearby window. She stood there for a moment, gazing out into the starlit sky, seemingly lost in thought.

Suddenly, there was a flutter of movement outside the window. To the astonishment of everyone in the room, a small dragoness, her scales shimmering with hues of deep blue and purple, flew in gracefully. She was smaller than Nocturne, but her presence was just as majestic. With an elegant swoop, Nebula landed gently on Octavia's shoulder, nuzzling against her affectionately. The room went silent for a moment, the students staring in awe and surprise at the unexpected visitor. Nebula's appearance was a rare and wondrous sight, something most of the students had never witnessed up close.

Octavia, however, seemed neither surprised nor alarmed by Nebula's sudden appearance. She reached up to stroke the dragoness gently, a soft smile on her face. "Hello, Nebula," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth.

Octavius and Gylfie, too, showed no signs of surprise. It was clear that they were familiar with Nebula and had perhaps been expecting her. Gylfie walked over to join Octavia, greeting Nebula with a gentle touch. "She wanted to see how the evening was going," Gylfie explained to the room, her tone indicating that Nebula's visit was not entirely out of the ordinary for them.

The students, recovering from their initial shock, began to gather around, curious and eager to learn more about the dragoness. Nebula, for her part, seemed quite at ease with the attention, her intelligent eyes observing the students with a calm, almost knowing gaze.

"What kind of dragon is she?" one student asked, his eyes wide with fascination.

Octavia, unfazed, turned to face her fellow Ravenclaws, a gentle smile on her face as she stroked Nebula's scales affectionately. "This is Nebula," she introduced the dragoness to the room. "She's a friend."

Nebula chirped softly, almost as if greeting the students. Her presence, so unexpected and magical, added to the enchantment of the Ravenclaw common room.

Octavius and Gylfie, who were familiar with Nebula, watched the scene with knowing smiles. The students, initially startled, began to approach cautiously, their curiosity overcoming their initial surprise. They asked questions about Nebula, marveling at her beauty and the mystical aura she exuded.

Octavia, with a sense of pride, answered their inquiries, explaining how she had come to know Nebula and sharing anecdotes about their adventures together. The students listened, captivated by the stories and the close bond between Octavia and the dragoness.

Nebula, enjoying the attention, allowed some of the students to gently touch her scales, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and a hint of playfulness. The evening, which had already been filled with intellectual discussions and laughter, was now graced with a touch of magical wonder, thanks to Nebula's unexpected visit.

After the excitement of Nebula's visit, the energy in the Ravenclaw common room gradually began to wane. The presence of the dragoness had been a magical end to an already eventful evening, leaving the students with a sense of wonder and contentment.

One by one, the Ravenclaws started to retire to their dormitories. The late hour and the day's activities had taken their toll, and the need for rest became apparent. Whispered goodnights and final yawns filled the room as students climbed the spiraling staircases to their beds.

Octavia, after ensuring Nebula was comfortably perched in a safe spot for the night, joined the procession to the dormitories. Octavius, Hermione, Ron, and Gylfie also bid each other goodnight, each feeling grateful for the day's experiences and the unique camaraderie of Hogwarts.

The common room, once buzzing with conversations and laughter, quieted down to a serene silence, with only the soft crackling of the fireplace remaining. The starlit sky outside the tall windows stood as a silent witness to the slumbering castle.

In their respective dormitories, the students quickly settled into their beds. The comfort of the warm blankets and the familiar, cozy surroundings of the Ravenclaw Tower brought a peaceful end to the day. Nocturne and Nebula, sensing a protective urge, settled near their respective owners. Nocturne, with his impressive size, curled up at the foot of Octavius's bed, his presence offering a silent, reassuring watch over the room. Nebula, smaller and more delicate, perched gracefully near Octavia, her scales shimmering faintly in the moonlight filtering through the dormitory windows.

Octavius, meanwhile, lay in his bed with a magical snake resting on his chest. The snake, a rare and intelligent creature, was a companion who shared a special bond with Octavius. It was not only protective but also deeply attuned to Octavius's curiosity about the magical world. As Octavius lay there, the snake softly hissed a Parseltongue lullaby, a soothing sibilant melody that lulled him towards sleep.

In the quiet of the night, Octavius found himself pondering the nature of reptilian creatures. "Tell me," he whispered in Parseltongue to the snake, "about your kin. What secrets do you hold about the reptilian kind?"

The snake, its eyes glinting with an ancient wisdom, responded in kind, sharing insights into the life of serpents. It spoke of the diversity among reptiles, of their instincts and senses, and how they perceive the world. The snake's words painted a vivid picture of a world vastly different from that of humans or even other magical creatures.

Octavius listened intently, his fascination growing. "And what of dragons?" he asked. "I understand them to some extent, but there's still so much that eludes me. What connects the species together or keeps them apart?"

"Dragons, unlike us serpents, are creatures born of magic and the elements. They are ancient, wise, and deeply connected to the earth's core and the skies above. Their magic is raw, primal, and tied to the natural world in ways that few creatures can comprehend."

The snake's voice was hypnotic, each word a soothing melody in Parseltongue. "We serpents are more subtle in our magic, more attuned to the finer vibrations of the world around us. Our strength lies in our perception, our ability to sense changes in our environment, and our connection with those who can speak our tongue."

"Dragons possess a different kind of wisdom," the snake continued. "They understand the language of fire and wind, the songs of mountains and seas. Their lives span centuries, giving them a perspective on the world that is both broad and deep. They are guardians of ancient knowledge, holders of secrets long forgotten by others."

The snake paused, its eyes reflecting an age-old wisdom. "But remember, young master, each creature, be it serpent, dragon, or any other, has its own unique essence, its own way of interacting with the magical fabric of the world. To understand them is to understand a part of the magic that binds us all."

In the tranquil ambiance of the dormitory, just as sleep began to envelop him, Octavius looked thoughtfully at the king cobra beside him. A name seemed to float into his consciousness, fitting for this majestic creature. "I shall call you Mortis," he whispered softly in Parseltongue, the name echoing the snake's profound and ancient presence.

Mortis raised his head in acknowledgment, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Mortis," he hissed in response, the name resonating with a deep, underlying power.

Feeling a bond of trust and mutual respect strengthening between them, Octavius ventured a request, "Mortis, would you be willing to teach me more about your ways? I wish to learn from you each night, to understand the essence of serpents."

Mortis regarded Octavius with an intensity that spoke of ancient knowledge and hidden depths. "I would be honored to impart the wisdom of my kind to you," he replied. "The world of serpents is vast and full of secrets, from the way we sense our surroundings to the ancient lore we hold."

Octavius felt a surge of appreciation and excitement at the prospect of learning from Mortis. "Thank you, Mortis," he said, his voice filled with earnest curiosity. "Your guidance will be invaluable."

Mortis seemed to nod, his graceful movements embodying the elegance and mystery of his species. "We shall begin with the next moonrise," he hissed. "But now, rest, young master. Prepare your mind for the knowledge to come."

With that, Mortis coiled up at a comfortable spot near Octavius, maintaining a watchful, yet relaxed demeanor. Octavius, his mind alight with thoughts of the learning ahead, finally surrendered to the embrace of sleep, comforted and fascinated by the presence of Mortis, his new mentor in the ways of serpents... just as much as he had Nocturne as his guide for dragonkind.

Octavius was happy with how everything was turning out.

"Good night everyone." Octavius sighed in the link.

"Good night Oct." Octavia would reply first. Then, Francesco, Estrella, Dusk, Noctus, and Gylfie responded happily, before sleep would take them all.

PS: For those of you who are curious, yes, I did roll high d20's and passed the DC for Ron and Hermione ending up in Ravenclaw. And yes, Ron is in Ravenclaw, sue me. You can also check the reactions of Octavius and Octavia for possible context clues. There, I pointed out some reading points, go back and read lmao.