The new students stepped into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, their eyes wide in awe at the dazzling, magical sight. Thousands of floating candles illuminated the room, their light shimmering off golden plates and goblets laid neatly across four long tables where the rest of the students were already seated. At the far end, the professors sat at their own long table, watching.
Professor McGonagall guided the first-years forward until they stood in a line, facing the other students, with the teachers in the background like a stern audience.
Noah, who always liked gazing at the night sky, found the enchanted ceiling breathtaking. Behind him, Hermione was whispering about the spell that made the ceiling mirror the stars above.
When he turned his attention forward again, he saw McGonagall place a ragged old hat on a stool.
The next moment, the hat split open at the brim and began to sing.
Noah didn't think the song was terrible exactly, but if he'd had the option to skip it, he would've gladly pressed the button.
When the song ended, Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll and explained,
"When I call your name, you will step forward, sit on the stool, and the Sorting Hat will decide the best House for you."
Unlike the "original story," where even wizard-born children had little idea what the test was like, here almost everyone knew.
Those from wizarding families had heard about it their whole lives. The Muggle-borns had picked it up on the train or while waiting to enter.
The first name was called, and a nervous girl was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff.
As the names continued, Noah's thoughts wandered. Which House did he want? None seemed bad, and he would accept any with good grace. Still, he felt a natural pull toward Slytherin or Ravenclaw.
Maybe that's where he'd end up… Without realizing it, his eyes drifted sideways toward Harry and the others, who were waiting with bated breath.
A quiet sigh slipped out. Though part of him wanted to join them, Noah wasn't here to live someone else's story. He didn't mind helping them, even nudging the future here and there.
But he hadn't come to Hogwarts to be a side character in Harry Potter's tale. He came seeking the thing that had called out to him—his own story.
He could still be their friend, even if he ended up elsewhere.
Is it wrong? Do I really have that many faces? Heh… what a joke.
He laughed bitterly at himself. He knew he wore masks—different versions of himself for different people.
But he didn't hate himself for it. Not anymore. He'd already seen the ugly side of the world. He didn't fear it.
What he feared was weakness—the kind that made you prey to the strong.
"There is no good or evil, only—" His eyes swept the staff table and locked on a professor wearing a turban.
By the time his name was called, half the students had already been sorted.
"Noah Gray," McGonagall announced, her gaze lingering on him as he stepped forward.
She remembered him well from their earlier meeting. He had left an impression on her—strong, promising. She would be lying if she said she wasn't secretly hoping he'd end up in Gryffindor.
Noah gave her a small nod before sitting on the stool.
The moment the hat settled on his head, a voice whispered in his mind, making him shiver.
"Curious. Very curious and fascinating, I must say," the Sorting Hat murmured.
Noah stayed silent. Holding a conversation with a voice in his head was… unsettling. The sense of intrusion was almost unbearable.
He wanted to push it out, to crush it—but he forced himself to stay calm.
"Intelligent and creative, yes, very creative," the Hat mused.
"How do you decide?" Noah finally asked. "I mean… how do you choose which House a student goes to?"
"Truth is, I don't. Each student can choose if they truly wish. I simply make sure they don't betray their own mind and talents. You, for example, would be wasted in Hufflepuff."
"And what if the mind itself is… confused?"
"Ah, the mind can be confused on the surface," the Hat chuckled. "But there's always something deeper. Perhaps not only in the mind…"
"So… what's my House?"
"Slytherin… Yes, Slytherin would give you greatness. You'd find equals there—together you could bend crowds to your will…" The Hat's tone wavered. Suddenly, it faltered, almost as if its voice wasn't entirely its own.
"When I was enchanted—…?" Its words grew distorted, strangled.
Then, out of nowhere, a different voice echoed inside Noah's head.
"When the common is found, a journey begins.
Amidst the play, where the troll stumbles, the second part lies hidden.
Where darkness always dwells, the path will reveal itself—
and there you will find pain, death, and despair.
But to not fail, you must endure. And if destined, you shall triumph."
The voice was unearthly, not just in his mind but in his soul, like the dying breath of someone pouring out a final dream into him.
Before Noah could grasp what had just happened, the Sorting Hat declared, in that same strained voice:
"Ravenclaw!"
McGonagall lifted the Hat without noticing Noah's unsettled look. A roar of applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table.
The Gray name wasn't unknown. Murmurs had spread the moment it was read aloud. If not for Harry Potter and his sister, Noah might have been the star attraction.
Still shaken, Noah walked to the Ravenclaw table, shaking hands with several eager housemates before finally sitting down to gather his thoughts.
What was that?
His mind was a storm. The Hat had clearly been tampered with—enchanted to deliver that strange prophecy and place him in Ravenclaw.
But maybe it wasn't just about sending him to Ravenclaw. Maybe it was about keeping him out of another House.
But why? And who? His thoughts drifted back to the reason he had come to Hogwarts—the strange calling he'd felt. The vision he'd had on the train. Were they all connected?
Confusion gnawed at him, but there was little he could do now. First, calm down. Think clearly. Piece it together later.
And slowly, the storm settled. Doubt lingered deep inside, but on the surface, his calm returned. His steady state of mind—his greatest weapon.
When Harry's name was called, the entire hall went silent.
Truly famous, Noah thought with a wry smile.
The silence stretched until, finally, the Hat shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
The cheer that followed was deafening. Gryffindors rose to their feet, clapping and shouting as the Boy Who Lived joined their table.
Not long after, Violet was also sorted into Gryffindor, which only made their table louder and more boisterous.
The twins were screaming with joy about getting the Potters, while the other Houses looked slightly disgruntled.
Ron's turn came soon after, and, unsurprisingly, he was placed in Gryffindor as well. He practically ran to the table in delight.
Noah scanned the four House tables. Just like in the books, everyone had landed exactly where expected. The board was set, each piece in its rightful place. This was how the first year of the power game would begin.
His eyes returned to the Sorting Hat as McGonagall carried it away.
If I get the chance, I need to examine that Hat, he thought. If he could see through the enchantments placed on it, maybe he'd find answers. And, of course, the object itself was fascinating.
Once the last student was sorted, Dumbledore rose. The Great Hall fell silent at once.
"Welcome!" he said, arms spread wide. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I'd like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."
Noah didn't laugh at the old wizard's nonsense. He knew better than to underestimate the words of a wizard, however strange. Still, no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't find any hidden meaning in them.
Not that he had time to dwell on it. As soon as Dumbledore finished, the empty tables filled with food in an instant.
Roast beef, chicken, pork and lamb chops, shepherd's pie, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and—oddly enough—peppermint humbugs. There was something for everyone.
Noah was starving. He hadn't eaten anything proper since that morning when he'd grabbed a few rolls before heading to the station.
As the feast went on, the new Ravenclaws began introducing themselves, sharing their stories of discovering they were wizards.
At their table, the conversations quickly turned to books they'd read, theories they had, and the excitement of the upcoming lessons.
The new students were shy at first, but it didn't take long for them to warm up. After all, they were in Ravenclaw for a reason.
Noah mostly listened, occasionally throwing in a comment.
"You friends with Potter?" a voice asked suddenly. Noah felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see who it was.
"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, finally setting down his knife and fork. He was full now—though he wouldn't refuse dessert if it came his way. His eyes scanned the speaker.
The name came to him immediately: Terry Boot. He never forgot a face or name, especially from the Sorting.
"I saw you on the train with him," Terry repeated. "You're friends with Potter, right?"
Noah shook his head. "Not really. I just sat with them."
Or they sat with me.
"Why do you ask?" he countered, curious where this was going.
"Oh, no reason. Just… curious what he's like. You know—he defeated You-Know-Who," Terry said, biting into a potato.
"I get it—you're a huge fanboy but too embarrassed to ask for his autograph," Noah teased with a grin. "Don't worry, I'll help you out."
He cupped his hands around his mouth and pretended to shout across the table for Harry.
Terry choked on his potato, coughing violently, which made Noah burst out laughing.
"Relax, I'm kidding," Noah said, patting his back as he struggled to swallow.
"Not funny," Terry muttered hoarsely, though he wasn't angry. He held out a hand. "Terry Boot."
Noah smiled and shook it. "Noah Gray."