Chapter 13: The Hat That Saw Time
The boats scraped gently against the stone dock beneath the towering cliffs of Hogwarts Castle.
Luna stepped out of hers with an airy grace, her soft witch boots making almost no sound. Around her, the other first-years bustled with excitement, nerves, and awe as the vast silhouette of the school loomed above them like something out of dreams.
Torches flickered in iron sconces as they were guided up the damp stone steps into a cavernous tunnel. A moment later, they emerged into the grandeur of Hogwarts' Entrance Hall, where the air carried the scent of old magic and polished wood.
Professor McGonagall stood at the top of a short staircase, dressed in a sharply pressed green robe, her stern expression softened just slightly for the newcomers.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice crisp but not unkind. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors into the Great Hall and be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony. While you are here, your House will be something like your family."
She paced slightly before them, her black boots clicking softly.
"There are four Houses at Hogwarts," she continued. "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards."
She gave a look that lingered a second too long on a few squirming students. "Your triumphs will earn your House points. Any rule-breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will win the House Cup."
Neville Longbottom swallowed loudly beside Luna.
"Now, please wait quietly while I go check if everything is ready."
As McGonagall disappeared through the great oak doors into the Hall, Luna let her eyes roam the room. The stone beneath her feet felt ancient, the air pulsing with the kind of old energy she found comforting. She caught glimpses of the Great Hall through a crack in the door—a ceiling enchanted like the night sky, floating candles, and hundreds of older students waiting.
A boy named Harry Potter was nearby, standing beside a red-headed boy she vaguely remembered seeing on the train—Ron, she thought. A small girl with bushy brown hair stood just behind them, her hands clasped tightly.
Luna drifted a little apart, her gaze distant. She felt the soft hum of space around her shift. A corridor to her right whispered of time-worn enchantments. The castle itself was alive in its own quiet rhythm, each stone like a vessel of memories.
There was a thud. The doors swung wide open.
Professor McGonagall returned.
"The Sorting Ceremony is ready," she announced.
The first-years filed in.
The Great Hall was even more breathtaking than Luna had imagined. The floating candles shimmered above them, the ceiling charmed to mimic the starry sky beyond. Four long House tables stretched the length of the room. At the far end, a raised staff table gleamed with golden goblets and crystal platters.
She felt a few eyes on her as she walked, but Luna didn't mind. Her cloak swayed gently, lined with soft blue silk. Her pale blond hair fell in a half-braid behind her shoulders, glinting faintly under the floating lights.
A three-legged stool sat at the front of the room with a patched, ancient-looking hat placed atop it.
The Sorting Hat stirred.
Its brim opened wide like a mouth, and it 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 hat that's cleverer than me..."
Luna listened carefully to every word, even as other students fidgeted. She noticed how the hat's song shifted slightly each year to adapt to the times, referencing bravery, loyalty, intelligence, and ambition. The four founders' legacy wrapped in rhymes.
When the song ended, polite applause followed. Then Professor McGonagall unrolled a long scroll.
The Sorting had begun.
Student by student, names were called. Each walked forward, some trembling, others beaming. The hat made its choice with dramatic flair—or sometimes barely a pause.
"Potter, Harry!" was received with a moment of intense silence. When "Gryffindor!" rang out, it was met with thunderous claps from the red and gold table.
Neville Longbottom stumbled on the way to the stool but was quickly sorted into Gryffindor too. "Granger, Hermione" followed right after with another swift declaration.
Luna watched them with mild interest.
Then it came.
"Lovegood, Luna."
The name echoed in the hushed hall. A few older students whispered. A certain mischievous pair of red-haired twins at the Gryffindor table elbowed each other. Luna didn't look at them.
She stepped forward serenely and perched on the stool like a girl settling into a dream.
The Sorting Hat dropped over her eyes, and the world dimmed.
"My, my," it murmured in her mind. "What an intricate weave you are… not of one thread, but many. Time-drenched. Dream-walker. Hmm."
"You hold secrets in your bones. Not darkness, no… clarity. Knowledge buried beneath curiosity. A heart that listens and hands that build."
A pause.
"Ravenclaw would suit you best. You already live there in spirit."
Then aloud, it cried:
"RAVENCLAW!"
Polite applause again.
Luna lifted the hat from her head and stood. Her eyes scanned the Hall once more—once at Dumbledore, who offered a knowing smile, and once at the enchanted ceiling.
Something shimmered up there. Not stars. Not clouds. Something moving just at the edge of sight.
She blinked.
Gone.
She drifted to the Ravenclaw table, and the sorting continued.