The great doors in the back of the Hall boomed open, and many turned to see. It couldn't be Professor Storm yet, could it? Headmistress McGonagall hadn't yet arrived so the Sorting couldn't begin.

The wizard who was now striding down between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables was positively ursine in his build and beard. His traditional wizards robes of rusty ochre and sienna flowed around him in his brisk stride. He immediately gave the impression of a jolly fellow. He smiled and waved at the students. There were only a very few familiar faces among the older students. Knox Greyfriar hadn't been seen at Hogwarts since 2008, since before Analiza Snark banished the werewolves, since Herschel Reid had reigned over the Tetrawizard Tournament, since Ignan Storm had served the interim, since the legendary Minerva McGonagall had come out of retirement to steward the prestigious school during hard times.

For those students and staff who had not known him as a Headmaster or history teacher (or for a very few, their Head of House), they  may have seen his face in the papers - the Werewolf Wizengamot Elder, a victim of the tainted Wolfsbane Potion that took the lives of a student's mother. If he was very lucky, some bookish Ravenclaw had read some of his scholarly work from the 1990s.

He swept nimbly up the stairs and behind the ornate podium. The silver and copper owl flexed it wings in greeting and posed for the speech.

"Good evening!"

His voice was an enormous baritone.

"I come bearing the regrets of  Professor McGonagall, who very much wished she could be here tonight. I'm afraid I regret it, too, that there will be no ritual handing off, no lengthy speeches, and that I will receive none of her eloquent exposition. But you'll all be thankful for that as I can hear tummies rumbling from here.

"It would be disingenuous of me to get to the point for I have never done that once in my entire life. If we're to draw our wands properly then it's probably best that we learn together that I am bombastic, long-spoken, and rarely pause for breath! As this new year begins, I know you're none of you strangers to dread and loss. I also know that I should expect nothing less than passion and curiosity and unfathomably questionable judgement. There is a first year outside and she's brought a melon with her and not the kind you'd think.

"Also made clear are the reputations of your professors, who have pledged they'll avoid addling your brains so long as you have a care before you speak. I know that will be difficult for all parties.

"A final word from Professor McGonagall, before I get to my main point. We both agreed it is a perfectly futile thing to say and our repeating it only serves to diminish its power, and it's frankly become a joke and we should be ashamed of it: but stay out of the Forbidden Forest."

He shifted his foot and looked out over the hall and was for a moment swept up in memories. For a good many years of his life, Hogwarts had been his home and he'd done his best by her and its other denizens. And when he'd left, he'd had to let go and hope his successors would do theirs.

"My name is Greyfriar and I am your new Headmaster."
 

As she sat in her seat on the staff table at the head of the great hall, Charisma found herself thinking over the years past since she’d last attended a welcome feast at Hogwarts. Last year she’d started in October to fill a gap from a missing staff member. The intention had been that her role would be temporary. She would remain until the end of the year and they would find a permanent replacement. A temporary role as the Ancient Runes Professor had turned into Head of Ravenclaw and so now, nearly a year on, Charisma found herself sat at the welcoming feast as a permanent member of staff. Still, it had to be better than a desk job at Gringotts after having been grounded because of the incompetence of Raizel Cohen and her inability to follow instructions.

46 years ago she’d sat in her last welcome feast, if Charisma had counted correctly. She would have been the oldest staff member on the head table if it weren’t for Ignan Storm, Deputy Headmaster and master of cold stares and sour expressions. Even their new (and former) Headmaster was younger, Charisma found herself thinking over as she took a sip of pumpkin juice from her goblet and sat back in the chair, stretching out her runespoor damaged left leg.

To her right, Camille was sat; one of the professors whom Charisma found herself getting along with the best. Perhaps it was similarities that had drawn them close.
“MY name is Aldridge and I’m bloody starvin’.” The welsh witch quietly muttered under her breath, glancing to the side with a smirk. “46 years has made me forget how bloody long winded this whole rigmarole is.” Unlike the other professors, most of them smiling and clapping, Charisma allowed her eyes to roam the crowds of students, excited faces thrilled to be back at school. What would this year have in for them?

It always felt so late by the time the carriages reached the castle, and the food always smelled so good! But Frank never felt tired because it was all too exciting. There were so many people, the castle was amazing, the candles, the cieling! It was all so much cooler than boring old London, the boring old shop, and boring old home. Franks' big brother Figaro had moved out as fast as possible, so Frank had been on his own the whole summer. Boring!

But they were back at Hogwarts! He could wear his Ravenclaw tie! His Ravenclaw scarf! (His mum didn't let him during the summer or they'd get mussed.) He had new shoes, a new bookbag with a scarab on it, and was with all of his friends again! He'd grown nearly four inches over the summer and was happy so many people noticed. They got to choose some extra classes this year, and he was thrilled. (New books!) As a third year, he was moving up in the world and their spot at the house table was better and better.

Then suddenly - bang! Whoosh! A great big wizard had swept past him down the aisle.  The chatter in the room changed in tune, from happy catching-up to excited whispers.

"Oh, shit, that's a werewolf!"
"N'uh!"
"Is so! My dad said."

Frank leaned out into the aisle to see, as the unfamiliar wizard took Headmistress McGonagall's spot at the front.

"She's right - you can tell. He looks exactly like one."

Frank turned around and whispered. "Actually, you can't tell by looking. My brother's best friend is a werewolf and he doesn't look like one at all."

"Gross."

He turned back to look and listen. And maybe look for some clue that the others were right...

Nothing could dampen Gwenna's mood now that she was back at Hogwarts.  The third-year Gryffindor student had been alternating between pulling faces at the Slytherin table and trying to elbow Noah Pratt when he wasn't looking.  She had barely stopped when the tall, bearlike man stood up to speak, still trying to catch the eye of someone in green so that she could make a horrible face in return.

But the end of his speech caught her off guard.

Gwenna's mouth flew open.  "Did you hear that?" she hissed at Noah.  "He said to stay out of the Forbidden Forest!"

She tried to wrack her brain -- had Headmistress McGonagall said anything like that the prior year?  Or Headmaster Reid before her?   She didn't think so, because surely she would have remembered.  Gwenna was fascinated by the idea of the Forbidden Forest, mostly because it was forbidden. 

"Why do you think he doesn't want us to go there?" she asked Noah, in what might have been intended as a whisper if she hadn't been practically bouncing with excitement.  At this rate, this was going to be the best year at Hogwarts ever.  "Do you think there's something there?  Oh, we have to get out there!"

Sitting on the other side of Professor Aldridge, Sylvain couldn't look any more different from her. He was never one to dress up but here he was wearing his only set of formal robes and happily applauding the school's new Headmaster for the warm welcome to their returning students. This experience was entirely new for Sylvain. His own schooling had been at Beauxbatons Academy - an institute that held a special place in his heart, though clearly it lacked some of the warmth that Hogwarts emanated.

            "...made me forget how bloody long winded this whole rigmarole is," remarked Aldridge next to him.

He glanced at her, still smiling, "You and them both, non?" The wizard indicated at the students before them with his gaze. Table upon table of children who were either excited to be back at school or just as impatient as Aldridge to satisfy their stomachs.

Sylvain was also hungry but the novelty of the castle kept him occupied. Greyfriar's warning about the Forbidden Forest was one he took to heart - that was one of his charges this year, to ensure nobody trespassed. Balfour had told him once that, regardless, some students would manage. Looking out across the Great Hall at so many mischievous faces, Sylvain understood what he meant now.

It was raining cats and dogs outside. Professor Storm stood at the head of the platform, his hood drawn up against the inclement weather and his wand tip pressed against his throat. His deep voice carried down the platform complete with efficient yet somewhat sinister German edge to his English accent.


It was Ignan’s fourth year at Hogwarts, though only his third September at Hogwarts, having arrived at short notice mid-way through the first term in 2008. Given their latest keeper of the keys and grounds was not alumni either, and Greyfriar wanted to make an entrance, they had elected Professor Storm take charge of the ceremonial route through the grounds for the first years.

As he examined their expectant and nervous faces on the platform in the lashing rain, he might well have been considering which of them to drown in the lake, such was his cold stare.

“I am Professor Storm, the Deputy Headmaster. You will follow me.” He turned on his heel with a flourish of dark cloak and snapped his wand upwards, sending a orb of light above his head. It shone not like the sun, but rather the pale blue of the moon, and sailed smoothly through the rain above them, throwing just enough light to pick out the worst of the ruts in the path and reflect in the raindrops.

“Do not dawdle!” Professor Storm barked, his pace anything but, so the shortest first years had to nearly jog to keep up.




In the rain and the dark, the steep narrow path through the trees was particularly slippy. Slipping and stumbling, the first years hurried to keep up, their hair increasingly plastered to their heads, as the rain began to run down their necks and under their new uniform shirts. The walk might be entirely miserable, but for when they rounded the bend and glimpsed the school at closer range than on the train.

The Professor shortened his stride to allow the new students their first proper gaze upon the school. Sat the other side of the black lake, up the mountain, its windows sparkled despite the rain, and had the clouds parted, the starry sky above would have revealed all its towers and turrets in entirety.




“Quickly, quickly,” Professor Storm called as they neared the shore of the lake. A number of small boats with lanterns were waiting in the shallows of the pebble beach. The silver haired wizard in the hood gestured out to them with a frown on his face. “No more than four in each boat. Do not dither. The giant squid is yet to eat for the night.”

There was a scrabble of feet on the pebble beach as the first years haphazardly clambered into the bewitched boats. It was clear who was susceptible to peer pressure and who could count to four as the Defences Professor jerked his wand at two students attempting to be the fifth in their boats - “What did I say?!” - and sent them scurrying to another.

Climbing into the last, the Professor called last words of instruction:


For while the squid below them watched for their safe passage, the wind whipped the water up into waves which clattered and rocked the little boats, quite soaking the new students if they were not already drenched just from the rain. Sodden, chilly and beginning to shiver, they were glad they reached the shelter of the cliff until it appeared they were going to crash right into it!

The Professor in his boat alone, chuckled menacingly at the yelps of the students who passed through the unexpected ivy curtain and into the dark tunnel, where the light from the lamps threw disconcerting shadows up the walls. Finally, in the underground harbour, it was safe to clamber out onto the pebbles and regroup, dripping, under the pale gaze of the Deputy Headmaster, who dried his cloak with a flourish of his wand.

It must have been a Muggleborn student who exclaimed “Woah!” with a loose jaw. With a roll of his eyes, the Professor took rare mercy on them, buffeting the whole group with a blast of hot air from his wand. It didn’t dry them, but it would stop them dripping quite so much on the flagged stone floor of the entrance hall beyond.



With a twitch of his wand, the doors to the entrance hall unlatched and came open, welcoming the group into the castle with warmth and bright torchlight. He gestured for them to go inside, and let them stare upwards at the height of the room and the stairs snaking upwards.




The doors to the boats closed with a clank behind them and he drew himself tall to address them.

“The start of term feast begins shortly, but before this you will be sorted into your houses.” The Professor's blue eyes picked out a smudge of lake mud on the forehead of one of the group, and an ivy leaf in the hair of one of the girls at the back. Some of them looked like they had struggled to dress themselves. He managed not to sigh.

“The sorting will place you into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin, named after the founders of this great school. Each has produced outstanding witches and wizards, and perhaps…” he glanced upwards, almost cursing his own words, “you may be the next to be described as such.”

The noise next door was quietening, and a few glanced to the doors worriedly.
“Your house will become family while you are here, you will share lessons, dormitories and a common room with your house for at least the next five years. Your achievements will earn your house points, and any rule-breaking will result in a loss. The house with the most points at the end of the year will be awarded the House Cup.”

He glanced to the doors, and then back to the first years.
“The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. Wait here a moment, and smarten yourselves up, after all, the whole school will be watching how you do. Best to be prepared.”

He strode away for a moment, cracking open the great doors ever so slightly to see if it was quite time. He slid his own cloak from his shoulders and charmed the mud from his boots.




By the time he turned back, the first years didn't look much different to before as he ordered them into single file to follow him.

The Great Hall doors swung open to reveal the scene beyond. Naturally the first years could not walk and gawp at the same time and trailed behind his long stride on their way down the centre of the hall between the long tables, but eventually they did catch up and form a line along the front.

The Professor set out a four-legged stool, and then placed upon it a rather tatty looking wizard's hat before stepping away. Behind them, the students craned for a look, knowing what came next. The hat never sang the same song twice, though nobody apart from the ghosts had been around nearly enough time to verify this. It was seemingly in good spirits this year, putting on the one night show, same night every year.

When the applause of the hall rippled away, the Professor began to call out the names.

---

OOC: For the sake of ease, don't worry about the alphabet … feel free to post about pre-sorting, sorting as you like to keep the thread moving.

Harri was happy to be back at school. She had grown about an inch over the summer but was still rather small compared to the rest of her year. She had also had to get a new school uniform, this time not having to argue about not wanting to wear a skirt. She was also able to get her blouse in a size bigger than it should be so none of her annoying developing curves would show. Her tattered knit cap was placed over her scruffy brown hair as she sat at the Gryffindor table with her fellow house mates. She took stock of all the faces that were no longer there.

She heard the murmurs amoungst the students as the bear of a man addressed them, "Is he really a werewolf?" She had heard that their old Care of Magical Creatures Professor had been one too but she wasn't old enough to take the class and one glance at the staff table was enough to confirm the siblings Donovan were no where to be seen.

After the speech was made she looked across the table to Gwenna and Noah, "From what I've heard, there's giant spiders and centaurs in there."

Ravnindar sat with Owen Prewett and Gale Kesali. They were on the Headmaster's left. Professor Storm's chair was empty. He went to school with Owen before they worked together. He had met Gale at the end of term. Ravindar was looking forward to working with them both. Professor Singh was very much looking forward to meeting his new Gryffindors! The sorting was one of his favorite events. He wore a patka when he was a first year. The sorting hat fitted over the top and yelled Gryffindor!
"Let this year be a good one."

Greyfriar took his place, but stayed standing until Storm appeared with the first years, who had to hustle to keep up.  There they were, sweet and small as every other class had been. He tried to have a look at each face as they formed a little rookery at just in front of the dais. He nodded to the Deputy Headmaster, and took his own seat.

As he did, he flourished a golden galleon quietly and laid it on the table in front of him for the staff to see. It was a quiet wager that the first sort would be of his old house, the home of the loyal and hard-working and true: Hufflepuff. It'd be good fortune for Hufflepuff and a mark a year of Helga Hufflepuff's values for the school. At least, that was the tradition, or had been in his time.

Of course, Noah had heard that! He’d heard everything the large hairy new headmaster had said. The forest was called the forbidden forest because it was forbidden. Gwenna had never seemed to understand that and Noah had always been too happy to accompany her because, why the hell not?

“No one wants us out there,” the boy muttered, eyes on the table where their food would soon be appearing. Soon. So soon. “Food first. Forest later.” Maybe. If he was going to become an auror and marry Fauna Blake, he’d need to be fantastic, focused, fearless. That meant no more trouble with Gwenna. Bright eyes shot to her beside him and he frowned. She wouldn’t take it well.

“I swear I’ve seen this bloke before, Gwen.” Noah continued, ignoring the arrival of the Stominator with a gaggle of terrified and excited looking first years.

Seating plan as discussed briefly on Discord:

---

Goodness! Twelve months ago, Camille had been nervous as a fawn at this first feast. Now she was onto her second year at Hogwarts, and she was rather looking forwards to seeing all her students again, and introducing Arithmancy to the third years. It was already a pleasure to see colleagues again, especially Charisma, who she had struck up a friendship with.

“My name is Aldridge and I’m bloody starvin’,” her Runes colleague muttered as their new Headmaster introduced himself to the students. He did like a touch of drama, but Camille had thought him admirable on first impressions. He knew the score, knew Hogwarts exceedingly well, and had been in the role many years back which reassured Camille. Last year Minerva had been terribly stretched, especially when Ignan had been at death’s door.

Camille smiled behind her hand, though it was obvious enough to Charisma due to their proximity.
“46 years has made me forget how bloody long-winded this whole rigmarole is.”
“Dear me,” Camille replied, attempting to sound sympathetic, “I think it’s rather lovely, actually. I’ve been to some thoroughly dull dinners in my life, but never one with a singing hat who gives prophecy.” What a way to begin your time at school!

The doors at the far end came open, and heads turned. As Ignan strode up the aisle between the tables, his face was a bit windbeaten, or it might have just been his usual frown, but the weather outside was rather wet. The first years behind him rather confirmed the weather had done the worst, but Camille’s eyes were busy picking out a face, and she leaned in towards Charisma with a low voice,
“There, there he is! My new grandson.” She gestured as unobtrusively as she could, beaming, but not wanting to mortally embarrass Feliks with a wave. “Dark curly hair, yes, him.”

Greyfriar took his seat and laid a galleon before him on the dinnertable. Professor Duerr exchanged a look with Professor Aldridge and then fell silent as Professor Storm cleared his throat to call the first name.

Forest later?  Gwenna shot Noah a horrified look.  Had he forgotten how to have fun over the summer?  She knew that he'd been stuck spending time with his dad and his dumb new wife, but she hadn't expected him to come back uninterested in the first new adventure they happened upon. 

Who cared if no one wanted them out there?  That was the point, wasn't it?  Scowling, Gwenna aimed a half-hearted kick at Noah's leg under the table.  She had been looking forward all summer to getting back to Hogwarts so that they could start having fun again, and here was her best friend, ruining it already.

"Yeah, there's spiders and centaurs and werewolves," she agreed with Harri Dursley.  If Noah wasn't going to be any fun, maybe another one of her housemates would want to get in on her adventure.  "That's prob'ly why they don't want us going out there.  There're all kinds of monsters in the Forbidden Forest.  Even dragons."  She opened her mouth as wide as she could to show off her teeth, and then snapped in the younger girl's direction.

Noriko sat at the Slytherin table, her hands folded in front of her, listening attentively not so much to the speeches so far, but to the whispered chatter scattered through the Great Hall.  A werewolf?  She tried to eye the new Headmaster without making eye contact.  She had had enough of werewolves during her first year, when the Halloween Ball had been ruined by a sudden rash of them.  If this new Professor Greyfriar said anything about hosting any school dances, she was going to refuse to leave her dorm room all night.

"When is the food coming?"  Her brother's whine cut through the commotion, just as Professor Storm entered the Great Hall with the mass of first year students trailing behind him.  Noriko nearly rolled her eyes.  There were several students sitting between her and Taiki, but it still didn't seem like enough distance from her irritating middle brother.

She returned her attention to the Sorting Ceremony, scanning the row of tiny first year students.  (Had she looked that little when she had first started at Hogwarts?  Noriko doubted it.)  Daichi was near the back of the line -- he was wiping his nose on his sleeve.  He had a bit to go until he'd be sorted.

Suddenly, she felt nervous in a way that she hadn't earlier on the train.  Anxiously, Noriko crossed her fingers under the table.  "Slytherin, Slytherin," she murmured under her breath, as if willing the Sorting Hat to make the right decision.

"You and them both, non?" Sylvain Onuris, their new Care of Magical Creatures Professor and Grounds keeper responded causing Charisma to smirk. It was easy to forget how this was a first for some staff and, obviously, their students. Her own grandchildren would soon be enjoying such an occasion and no, they would not be grumbling about empty stomachs. That was just the old witch who found herself growing slowly more cynical.

As the first years filed in behind Storm, faces a mixture of terror and excitement, Camille started eagerly searching the crowd for the boy she’d mentioned, her new grandson. Now Charisma did lean forward, eyes scouring for a boy with dark curly hair. There were a few but her eyes followed the gesture and she smiled, the expected response. The child didn’t look like a monster. He looked normal. Oddly normal for a murderous mother.

“Cute.” The Ravenclaw head commented, feeling such a response far more suitable than sharing her surprise at the boy not looking like an evil little monster. “You have a house preference?” Her words were quiet now as Storm prepared for the part of his job he so clearly didn’t live for.

Bright blue eyes flashed to the galleon placed before their new headmaster and the witch wearing a set of robes reflecting the own house she headed dipped a hand into her pocket and slipped 2 galleons onto the table, pushing them into view before her. She didn’t look at their Headmaster.