Illuna took in the world around her, the scent of wet grass and earth filling the air. It had rained earlier, and the fresh smell of nature clung to everything—the trees, the soil, even the boats gliding silently across the lake.
The water shimmered, disturbed only by the ripples the boats made as they moved—enchanted, of course. Illuna watched in quiet awe, her black cat Midnight curled against her side, unbothered by the moisture in the air.
"Mr. Hagrid," she called out, raising her voice just enough to reach him across the boats. "Which side of your family is the giant from?"
Lily and Severus both turned to her, mortified.
Hagrid laughed heartily, showing no signs of offense. "My mum's side. She was a giantess. Why d'you ask, lass?"
Illuna opened her mouth to answer, "I was wondering how you would go abou... " Snape clamped her mouth shut, before she could complete her sentence and ask another potentially insensitive question.
Midnight began rubbing her head against his hand, despite his irritation.
Hagrid chuccled some more at the first years antics.
"She was probably just curious," Severus said, his voice sharp with subtle warning.
Hagrid gave a good-natured nod at thier antics, either oblivious or simply unfazed. "Fair enough. Curiosity's a good trait at Hogwarts."
The boats glided further through the mist, and slowly, the castle came into view—its towering silhouette piercing the fog like something out of an ancient legend.
Illuna's breath caught in her throat. It was enormous, more magnificent than any estate she'd ever seen. The stone towers and arched bridges stood proud against the dim sky. If her memory of history was accurate, Hogwarts had once been a fortress in times of war. It still looked like one—only now, filled with magic instead of soldiers.
The lake journey came to an end all too soon.
As the students stepped off onto the stone landing, the chill of damp air clinging to their robes, Illuna looked up at the front steps of Hogwarts, where a tall witch in emerald-green robes stood waiting.
Her gaze was sharp, her presence commanding, her gaze firm and youthful.
"Professor McGonagall," Illuna murmured under her breath. "Transfiguration."
The professor looked out over the group of first years, lips pursed, arms folded.
The adventure had officially begun.
Professor McGonagall led all of them inside, away from the cold night and within hogwarts tall walls. Before leaving she turned to Illuna, looking at her, her eyes stern but her tone was soft.
"Miss Heart, the sorting ceremony doesn't allow pets to attend, I would ask that you allow a house elf to take her to your room"
Illuna sighed, and nodded... it was worth a shot though.
Illuna sighed. She'd known this would happen—Hogwarts' rules were annoyingly thorough—but Merlin's beard, she'd hoped Midnight's glare would deter them.
McGonagall called out for a house elf
"Goompie!"
With a pop a house elf appeared, after instructing it of what to do, Illuna took midnight of her shoulder with some struggle as it's nails pierced through her shirt trying to stay with her.
With a mrrow the cat glared at Illuna, as the elf took it.
Wih a pop the elf disappeared with her, elf apparating was smoother then a wizards, but midnight really hated when her father apparated la them last time, cats can carry a grudge at times, let's hope her cat doesn't.
The corridor outside the Great Hall was hushed, but full of tension—the kind that hung in the air like thick velvet, brushing against skin. Stone walls loomed tall and cool around them, old and breathing with centuries of secrets. The scent of wax and old mingled with the faint saints of rain her that clung to her robe from outside.
Candlelight flickered along the corridor, flames swaying with invisible drafts. Shadows danced across the stone floor like they had minds of their own—stretching, shrinking, crawling up the robes of nervous first-years. Illuna watched them move.
She walked to stand beside Lily Evans and Severus Snape—close, comfortable, familiar now after hours on the train. Lily gave a quick smile and curious eyes that darted everywhere; Severus was quieter, folding into himself, deep in thought, arms crossed.
James Potter, the one they met on the train, spoke in detail with the black haired kid, they luaghed, the only sound that could be heard above the hushed wispers of the hallway.
He nudged at the boy and the two snorted after looking over at our group of three. Lilys brows forrowed, with a "hmpf" she turned towards the two off us. Severus on the other hand said nothing, he just looked at the two boys in indignation.
Finally Lily broke the silence "I really hope I don't get sorted into the house with them". Severus nodded at her agreeing with her judgment. Illuna agreed silently.
Noticeing the Quitness of her two friends Lily sweat dropped.
Despite this Lily continueed the conversation "maybe Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad, but with what Illuna said I won't want to get into sliterine anytime soon"
Severus softly beside her "there's nothing wrong with slytherin, it's all just spectacation"
Illuna lips persed and her head turned away, sure she was unsure if everything she said was true, but her father and others wouldn't lie to her about it.
Lily backtracked "It's not that," Lily replied quickly, her voice gentle. "I just… don't think I'd fit there."
Illuna's gaze flicked between them. Severus stood a little too straight, a practiced, unnatural stance. His jaw tightened, and she knew that response wasn't for Lily's benefit—it was for himself.
He's afraid. Not of where he'll go, but of where she won't.
Illuna didn't speak. She never interrupted moments like these. Instead, she observed: the way Lily's voice dropped when she was unsure. The way Severus looked away when he hurt.
Behind them, the murmur of other first-years hummed low, like bees trapped in a bottle. A girl nearby bit her lip until it turned white. A boy fiddled with his shoelace even though it wasn't untied.
Everyone's afraid of being sorted. They would life for the next few years in thier sorted house after all.
The candles flared slightly as the great oak doors creaked open. Professor McGonagall stood framed in the doorway like a painting come to life—stern, sharp-eyed, perfectly composed.
"This way," she said.
Lily touched Illuna's wrist lightly—a reflex, not a thought—and Illuna, though surprised, followed.
So it begins, she thought. The House decides the story. But I'm not sure which one I belong to yet… or if I want to choose the same book at all.