The Great Hall was even more impressive in person than in any memory I had from my previous life's stories. Floating candles bathed the vaulted ceiling in warm light, and the enchanted sky overhead shimmered with the glow of a thousand unseen stars.
The other first-years whispered nervously in the line beside me, eyes darting to the long tables where older students sat in their house colors.
Me? I was calm. Excited, yes, but in that quiet way you feel when you've been waiting for something for a long time and now, finally, it's here.
---
Professor McGonagall stood at the front, holding the Sorting Hat in both hands like it was a sacred relic. She began calling names, one by one, and the hat sorted them with the usual flair. Some took seconds, others minutes.
When my name was called — "Blackthorne, Aarav" — a ripple of interest passed through the crowd. Not the whole school, just a few who recognized my family name. I ignored it and strode up to the stool, taking my seat without hesitation.
The hat was lowered onto my head.
---
Ah… a voice murmured in my mind. Now this is interesting.
Hello, I thought back.
A calm one, aren't you? Most students are a mess of nerves when I speak to them.
I smiled inwardly. I've been ready for this for a long time.
Mmm… yes, I see that. Oh my, what is this? The hat's tone shifted from curiosity to something close to alarm. Your mind is… adaptable. Far beyond anything I've seen. And your magical potential… by the Founders, boy, you could rival—
I gently nudged the Crit System. Enhance quality: telepathic clarity.
The connection between us sharpened instantly. I could feel the texture of the Sorting Hat's thoughts as if I were running my fingers along threads of ancient cloth. I could hear every undercurrent, every unspoken judgment.
---
…and you have control over it, the hat continued, now speaking with the careful tone of someone aware they're addressing a loaded wand. You'd do well in Slytherin. Ambition, resourcefulness—
No, I interrupted politely. Not because I dislike Slytherin. But I'm not here to stand out. I'm here to explore. Learn. Move freely.
Ravenclaw, then, the hat mused. Knowledge, creativity, independence. Yes… yes, I can see it. But you'd also thrive in Hufflepuff — loyalty, patience—
True, I admitted. But Ravenclaw will give me the least scrutiny while granting access to the kind of people who ask interesting questions instead of dangerous ones.
The hat chuckled softly. You've already sorted yourself.
More or less.
You're hiding your full strength, it observed. From everyone. Including me.
I didn't answer. The silence was answer enough.
---
After a pause, the hat said, Very well. You know where you belong.
Then say it, I thought.
---
RAVENCLAW!
The shout echoed through the hall. The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers, waving blue and bronze banners. I removed the hat, handed it back to McGonagall, and walked calmly to my new house table.
---
The rest of the Sorting faded into background noise. I answered polite questions from my new housemates — where I was from, what my family did — with carefully measured answers. Not lies, but not the whole truth either.
I noticed something, though: a few of them were sharper than I expected. Ravenclaws weren't all wide-eyed bookworms. Some of them had that same quiet observational gaze I'd seen in Lila on the train. People who saw more than they said.
Good. I liked people who could keep secrets.
---
When the feast began, the food appeared in a glorious wave of magic. I let everyone else dive in first before picking up my goblet. The pumpkin juice smelled faintly off — not spoiled, just brewed in a slightly less-than-perfect batch.
I brushed my fingers along the goblet and whispered mentally to the system: Enhance quality: taste.
The drink transformed instantly. Richer, smoother, perfectly spiced. A small indulgence, invisible to anyone else.
---
Halfway through the meal, I caught the Headmaster's gaze from across the hall. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled faintly, but there was something else there — the quiet suspicion of a man who'd spent decades meeting exceptional young witches and wizards.
I met his gaze evenly for a heartbeat, then looked away, letting my presence fade into the background of the bustling hall.
For now, I was just another bright-eyed first-year.
For now.
---
That night, as I settled into my bed in the Ravenclaw tower, I thought about the conversation with the Sorting Hat.
It had seen only a fraction of what I could do — and even that had startled it. If the founders' relics could be shaken, what would happen when the real challenges began?
I smiled faintly into the darkness.
I intended to find out.