"RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers and applause. A first-year who'd stumped the Sorting Hat for a record-breaking ten-plus minutes was one of their own! Even some students from other houses joined in, clapping as if they'd just witnessed history.
At the staff table, several professors turned their attention to Lucien, their curiosity piqued. Even Dumbledore, who'd been politely clapping for others, now gave a hearty round of applause, a hint of surprise and relief glinting behind his crescent-moon glasses.
Truth be told, after learning about Lucien's extraordinary magical talent, Dumbledore had privately worried he might end up in Slytherin. The snake house valued talent and ambition above all, and while not every Slytherin turned out bad, it was undeniable that many dark wizards and Death Eaters had come from their ranks. But Ravenclaw? That meant Lucien leaned toward learning and the pursuit of knowledge—a far better fit in Dumbledore's eyes.
Lucien handed the Sorting Hat back to Professor McGonagall and headed toward the Ravenclaw table. The cheers from the "little eagles" grew louder as he approached.
Ravenclaw was a house with a notable gender imbalance, boasting the highest proportion of girls among the four houses. Several older Ravenclaw girls were already flashing bright smiles his way.
"I knew he looked handsome from a distance, but up close? Even better!" one giggled.
"Oh, come on, tone down the creepy grin—you'll scare him off!" another teased.
Lucien, catching snippets of their chatter, kept a polite smile and nodded lightly in acknowledgment. His dark golden hair gleamed like molten metal under the hall's lights, and his deep green eyes, rippling with a warm smile, lit up his strikingly handsome face.
His smile caught a few girls off guard, leaving them momentarily frozen, unsure how to react. Others quickly ducked their heads, fussing with their collars or hair before looking up to return equally bright smiles.
A blonde girl with silver-rimmed glasses nudged her friend. "Hey, Sally, scoot over and make some room for him, yeah?"
Her friend shot her a look. "You're graduating next year, Lisa. What're you scheming?"
Lucien, pretending not to hear, quickened his pace and slid into an empty seat. To his left was a boy with short blond hair, and to his right, a strikingly pretty Asian girl. She gave him a shy smile but didn't speak.
The boy, however, was quick to break the ice. "Hey, Lucien! I'm Terry Boot, also a first-year. Nice to meet you!"
"Hi, Terry. Good to meet you too," Lucien replied smoothly.
Terry grinned. "Mate, that was epic! I overheard some older students saying no one in Hogwarts history has ever made the Sorting Hat stall that long!"
Lucien chatted with Terry while keeping an eye on the Sorting Hat. Harry and Ron were up soon. "Maybe I've got too many traits, and the Hat had a case of choice paralysis," he said with a smirk.
"Choice paralysis?" Terry scratched his head, unfamiliar with the term but finding it oddly fitting.
"Doesn't matter," Terry continued, puffing out his chest. "Whatever else, Lucien, your standout trait is definitely smarts. You're Ravenclaw through and through!"
Meanwhile, the Sorting Hat had reached Harry. The Great Hall fell silent, all eyes on the Boy Who Lived. Everyone—except Lucien, who already had an inkling—wondered which house he'd join.
After a long pause, the Hat bellowed, "GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor table exploded into cheers, the "little lions" roaring with excitement. The Weasley twins practically leapt onto the table, shouting, "We've got Harry! Harry Potter!" Harry was whisked to a seat by a group of enthusiastic boys.
When it was Ron's turn, the Hat barely touched his fiery red hair before declaring, "Another Weasley, eh? I know where you belong—GRYFFINDOR!"
Ron's sorting felt like a formality. As he shuffled to the Gryffindor table, the Weasley twins gave him a half-hearted wave, far less enthusiastic than they'd been for Harry. Ron's lips turned down as he plopped next to Harry.
Once all the first-years were sorted, McGonagall tapped her goblet, the sharp sound quieting the hall. Dumbledore rose.
"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he began, his voice carrying easily. "Before the feast, a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
With that, he sat down, and mountains of food appeared on the tables. The first-years gaped, confused by the headmaster's bizarre speech and dazzled by the sudden feast. The older students, used to this, dove right in.
The Hufflepuff first-years, true to their badger nature, were the quickest to recover, stuffing their faces almost instantly. Their wide, innocent eyes seemed to say, What're you waiting for? Dig in!
Terry, mouth full of chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, and fried fish, mumbled, "Lucien, wha' d'you think the headmaster meant by that?"
Lucien, methodically cutting his steak, shrugged. "Who knows? Shortest and most memorable headmaster speech I've ever heard, though." In my old life, I sat through endless droning speeches—once standing in the rain while the principal rambled under a canopy.
Terry, choking slightly, nodded vigorously in agreement.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Hermione poked at her food listlessly. She glanced at Ron, double-fisting chicken drumsticks, and Harry, scarfing down his meal, and let out a sigh.
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, mid-bite. "Why the sighing?"
Hermione covered her face with a hand, sighing again. "Nothing. Just jealous of your appetites."
"Oh." Ron went back to his drumsticks.
Hermione's eyes drifted to the Ravenclaw table, searching for Lucien. She noticed several Ravenclaw girls sneaking glances at him—some not even bothering to be subtle, openly admiring his good looks.
Maybe Ravenclaw would've been better, she thought. The study vibe's stronger, and their dorms have a view of the stars…