Natalie

and Vici

Vici:

I walk up to the stool. Lucky me, my last name begins with a "B", so I'm one of the first people to walk up to the tattered old hat to get Sorted. I let out a shaky breath. My mom had told me all about the houses, but had refrained from saying anything that gave her opinion as to which one she wanted me to be in. She wanted this to be my decision, and while she didn't want me to walk up here uneducated on the whole thing, she didn't want anything to influence my decision, either. 

True to my character, I trip on my way up the (wait for it) five steps between us firsties and the hat. I hear a tittering of laughter, but decide to ignore it. Instead, I make my siblings proud by straightening my back, pushing back my shoulders, and confidently walking up to the foreboding stool. Even when I trip twice more after that. The teacher holding the hat, Mc....McGonagall? I wanna say her name is Professor McGonagall, but I could be wrong. Anyway, she smiles kindly at me as I walk up, and I even detect a trace of laughter, and a little pity, in her eyes each time I trip on my too-long robes. 

After an eternity, I reach the hat, and sit down on the three-legged stool, managing not to fall off. I try to hide the relief that floods my face at that realization. Judging from more titters and snorts of laughter, I don't do as well as I like. Well, better make the most of it. I laugh at myself with them, my light, airy, unique laugh, ringing throughout the almost silent Great Hall. When I laugh, I hear more people laughing in their seats, not worried now, about being impolite. I even hear a couple of badly-contained chuckles from behind me, and it's all I can do not to whip my head around and laugh with them, whoever "them" is. 

Professor McGonagall (I'm sure that's her name, now. My older sister Gwen, a true Gryffindor if there ever was one, mouthed "McGonagall" to me, and glanced at the slightly grey-haired teacher behind me) put the hat on my head. And let me tell you, no amount of words and teaching can prepare you for when an oversized hat drops over your eyes and reads your deepest thoughts, then judges you. Let me tell you what it said:

Ah, hello Miss Vici. Vici Victoire, what an interesting name. Conquer Victory. And then there's the Bonafante. Second-youngest of five, with young Maxwell coming next year. But...this is strange. You're not worried about overcoming your siblings, or being shadowed by them. Usually a child with as many siblings as you is looking for a title... You're not the oldest, the youngest, the first girl, the middle child. You have no distinguishing title, yet you do not care. Why is that?

You can see inside my head. You tell me.

Oh, and she's sassy. The thing is, I'm not asking so I can know. I'm asking to see if you know.

Oh. Well, in that case...uh...oh, yeah, why should I tell you?

Because otherwise I'll never Sort you.

You're having way too much fun with this.

Yes I am. I'm a hat, I don't get out much. Indulge me.

He has a point.
Okay, fine. I don't compare myself to my older siblings, especially my brothers, for exactly the reason you stated. I'm the nobody, but I don't want to be them. They tease and taunt me and I get sick of it. I got sick of it. Instead of fighting back outwardly, where they could then get me in trouble, I prank them and and they assume it's each other because I'm the nobody child and they're all so superior.

Interesting.

What?

I didn't think you knew.

Course I know.

How?

Cos I do.

I think I know where to put you.

Okay, where?

Well, where do you want to go?

Somewhere where I'd fit. Not fit in, but fit. Where I'd be similar enough to not stand out, but where I'd be different enough to...stand out. You know what I mean?

I think I do, yes.

So put me there.

You didn't give me a House.

Well you Sort me, not me.

Quite the contrary, in most cases.

That statement just begs the reply: I'm not most cases.

No, you're most certainly not. And I mean that in a good way, mostly.

Thank you.

Yes, I do think I know where to put you. Better be...

And then, the word that will set my future:

"RAVENCLAW!"

I'm surprised and pleased as I take the hat off, smile at Professor McGonagall, and then trip (predictably) down the steps to my table. 

My table. 

My family. 

My House. 

My home. 

I sit down, and am immediately greeted by pats on the back, warm, bright smiles, and lots of cheers. My long black hair tosses around, back and forth and back and forth, as I practically give myself whiplash trying to look at everyone saying hi, and congratulating me. The girl I'm sitting next to introduces herself as Brittany Shultz, a third year, and the boy on my left says his name is Justin Prewett, a second year. Hi, I say back. I'm Vici. The girl across from me shakes my hand.
"Jenna Fortescue. Seventh year, and Head Girl. Congrats, you're the first Ravenclaw this year!"

The girl on her left. "Lisa Bennett, fourth year. Best in my class."

The boy on her right. "Benedict Carleton. Fifth year, prefect."

By the time this is all done, several more people have been sorted, though none into Ravenclaw. I look around, and from my side of the table, my back is to the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs, and I'm facing the Slytherins. There's a boy, with short, black hair, staring past me at someone at the Gryffindor table. I look round to see who, and I see someone, a Gryffindor boy, who looks almost identical, except not. For one, the Gryffindor's hair was much longer, reaching his shoulders, whereas the Slytherin boy's was close cut, and a bit shaggy. The Slytherin boy slouched a bit, while the other, clearly his brother, sat up straight and tall, glowing with pride. Quite how I imagine I looked when I saw all the welcoming faces at the Ravenclaw table, thinking "Yes! Out of all four, I got the one house none of my siblings are in!" 

I zone out for the rest of the Sorting, precious few names sticking in my head. Mostly, they're the ones of all the older kids around me, mainly Justin Prewett and Brittany Shultz, since they sit on either side of me. 

Suddenly, I look back at the table after glancing away for a split second, and I see what once were empty plates piled high with the most delicious food I've ever seen! I jump in my seat, surprised, knocking over my (thankfully empty) goblet. Brittany, who said I could call her Brit, Justin, Jenna, Lisa, Benedict, who said I could call him Ben, and a few others all around me laughed good-naturedly at both my surprise, and my clumsiness, which I'm sure everyone (including you) is used to by now. 

Justin slings an arm loosely around my shoulder, best-friend style, and says, chuckling, "Yeah, you'll get used to it my friend." He then begins piling his plate sky-high with mashed potatoes, chicken, ham, gravy, carrots, peas, turkey, and corn, both on and off the cob. I gape at him. "How can you eat all that?" I ask, amazed, especially cos he's thin as a rail! Like, this guy could not eat this much and still look like he ate nothing at all!

"High metabolism," he joked, thankfully after swallowing the mouthful of food he had just crammed into his mouth. "Plus, wait till you see the stairs. Especially to Ravenclaw tower." Everyone around me laughed at my expression after hearing the word "stairs". You saw me! I tripped five times, at LEAST, just on the way to the hat, then again once more on my way to my table. And now I have to do probably like, ten flights of stairs, just to get to bed?!? Oh god, I'm gonna die! I'm gonna trip, and fall, and die.

"Don't worry," Brit says. "You'll be fine! Right Jenna?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely!" the Head Girl says. "I'd be more worried about the password."

"Password?" I ask. I'm curious. I know there's a passcode for each of the houses, but I don't know why it'd be a problem.

Ben grinned. "You'll see. Just follow me when the feast is over, me and the other prefect will take all the first years to the dorms."

I smile. "Okay."

The Sorting passes like that, we talk, we banter, we joke. At some point Justin takes his arm off my shoulders, and for a second I'm a little disappointed for some reason, but i shrug it off. None of us are paying attention to the actual Sorting unless someone gets Sorted into Ravenclaw, but that changes when a sudden hush falls over the Hall. None of us had been paying attention, so we didn't know this girl's name, but apparently she's a big deal.

She sits on the stool for what's probably a lot less time than I was, before the Sorting Hat calls out to the hall "SLYTHERIN!" We make brief eye contact, and I can talk she recognizes me, not by my name, but by the girl who tripped twenty times on her way to the Hat. Oh well. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. We go back to talking, and before we know it, the plates are cleared, and Headmaster Dumbledore is standing behind his podium once again. "Prefects, please escort the first years to their dormitories. Everyone else, kindly follow after."

Ben gets up and hops over to my side of the table, waving down a girl about ten people down. She gets up and walks over. "Sophie, meet Vici Bonafante. Vici, this is the other prefect, and my girlfriend, Sophia Clearwater." I stick my hand out to shake, and she shakes it. "Nice to meet you," I say smiling. "Any you," she says laughing. "Aren't you the girl who tripped a couple times on your way up to get Sorted?" she asks. I decide she doesn't mean this meanly, and I bow, laughing as well. "In the flesh," I reply. She laughs. "I like her." She turns to Ben. "Ready?" she asks. "After you, my lady," he jokes. She smiles at him, and turns to the table. "FIRST YEARS, FOLLOW US, PLEASE. RAVENCLAW FIRST YEARS, PLEASE FOLLOW US!"

Ben slings an arm around my shoulder loosely, like Justin did, but I liked it better when Justin did it. Don't ask me why, I haven't the faintest, but it feels different when Justin does it. Maybe it's cos he's closer to my age. Oh whale.

We walk ahead of the first years, Ben in the middle of me and Sophie, an arm around my shoulders and one around her waist. They're an adorable couple, I really just can't get over it. They're practically perfect.

Anyway, Ben and Sophie lead all of us out of the hall, up a million sets of stairs, around five hundred corners, through twenty thousand corridors, up another flight of stairs, and finally, we reached a plain, brass knocker, in the shape of a head. Ben winked at me and gave a mischievous grin. He walked up to the knocker and knocked once. The face suddenly became animated and did the last think I expected a brass knocker to do.

See, as I said earlier, I'm in the only house that none of my siblings are in. I know how it works for them: you walk up to the entrance, (a portrait for Gryffindor, a wall for Slytherin, a barrel for Hufflepuff) and you say a password. So that's what I thought was gonna happen. I thought the knocker was gonna ask for a password.

But no.

It asked a riddle.

And to get in, you need to answer it.

And my first though is well now I'm screwed. Cos I don't care if I got Sorted into this house, I don't have the smarts or the patience to answer a riddle every time I wanna enter my common room. Then I hear the riddle.

"What is black when it is clean and white when it is dirty?"

Well that's not even a riddle. A chalkboard, or a blackboard or whatever you wanna call it. I'm surprised. It's so obvious. Ben turns around. "Anybody know it?" he asks the group of timid first years, all crammed into the hall. Nobody replies. I stay silent.

Until he turns to me.

"What about you, Vici? Got any theories? Ah, wait, don't tell me. Tell him." He nods to the knocker. I tilt my head considering if I wanna say. Maybe I'm wrong? But hey, just because I'm not in Gryffindor, doesn't mean I can't be brave, right?

I nod, and turn to face the knocker. "A blackboard." I say, surprising myself. I didn't ask it like a question, nor did I stutter. And I said it in the first place. I am on a roll today!

And then the knocker nods.

And a door appears.

And swings open.

And I get my first glimpse of the Ravenclaw common room.

Natalie:
I was content being closer to the end of the Sorting Ceremony. It allowed me enough time to survey the Great Hall, peer around at the potential friends I'd make, and assess my new home for seven years. It also gave me a chance to see how much power I'd yield over the school once I was called out. Placing me on a stool facing the room, really was an added cherry to the cream cake my family had given me.

"Roberts, Natalie."

My name didn't sound like much to those who didn't come from the wizarding world, nor would it sound like a name that would stick in your head for years to come. It was common, something rather unnoticeable, but boy did it have an effect on the students around me. Gasps, muttered chattering, or just stares followed me as I walked up towards the sorting stool. Now you may be wondering why on earth everyone would have such a reaction to the plain, boring and simple name 'Roberts', so I'll tell you.

I am as Pureblooded as wizards and witches come. My family descend from a long and powerful bloodline that is hardly mentioned in the wizarding history books. But, never-the-less, the Roberts have always been feared, worshipped, or respected. We always held some of the most manipulative and powerful jobs within the Ministry. Half of our family didn't even know what the others did because of how secret our lives were supposed to be, however, my family in particular were rather infamous. Both held rather secretive but powerful positions in the Ministry of Magic, and both were known for their tolerance of Dark Magic – though it couldn't be proven. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really know my parents all that well. They sent me to boarding schools around the world whilst they did whatever they did – I just got the reputation and power that came with the name.

As I took my seat upon the stool, I looked around the room, zoning in on people. Two red heads sat at one table, laugh lines already pressing on their faces; a small boy with pimples sat at the Hufflepuff table, a look of fright on his face; that girl whose name I couldn't remember, who had tripped at least four times on the way up to the stool frowned at me from the Ravenclaw table; even one of the ghosts was unsure how to welcome me – go figure.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on my dark brown head and the hall went quiet. Suddenly, the hat started speaking.

"Narrow-minded, yes, and stubborn – good sense of loyalty, and extremely determined," its voice echoed within my mind. It was an odd sensation, when a hat looks around in your head. "Could be a good Gryffindor – brave, and outspoken." I didn't really care where I went in all honestly, though my parents were both hoping I'd be in one of their houses – same as my sister. "Cunning and coy, makes you a perfect Slytherin. Not much making for a Hufflepuff, but potential for Ravenclaw." The hat continued thinking out loud before it finally made a noise of resignation.

"Slytherin!" It called towards the hall. The hat was lifted off my head, though I felt no lighter. For some reason I knew this was the house for me, but I didn't like the baggage this house loaded you with...

I sat down beside a rather snobby looking blonde, who only nodded in approval at me. I ignored the stares I still received, even when digging into the delicious dessert. I was given the low down that night on the expectations I should follow whilst in Slytherin. No speaking to Mudbloods – certain exceptions only. Choose your friends carefully – Gryffindors prohibited. No loosing House Points...blah blah blah. Instead I decided that creating my own rules would be much more fun. And having the last name I did, it gave me certain privileges others didn't have.
Besides weren't rules made to be broken?