The Tale of the Black Knight: The Mark

The Sorting Hat

This... Draco only kept one terrible glance locked on her until this stern woman outright tapped his shoulder with her scroll. With that, he went back in line and good riddance. First impressions again were not very fun, but she tried to keep from being too bothered by that interaction. Including hers, all eyes were on the witch who seemed to have batted the bother away, as it were before she scanned the entire group of eager and nervous first years. Her lips were pursed and her stare was icy besides the fact that she was a splendidly tall woman, at least compared to their own minimal proportions. Her age was obviously drawn in her callous face but if one could read between the tight spectacles and her sharpened glare, someone would see that she could be careworn. It was a shadow Lyra slightly picked up on, but she kept it low to herself. The nerves were settling in...

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" the woman stated, so profoundly, yet her tone held a bit of pride. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and be seated with your classmates. But before you take your seats for the banquet, you all shall be sorted, first and foremost... into your Houses." she spoke, sharply, there was no questioning. "Heed well, young ones, these Houses are so named as Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin..."

She stated so as she passed a very cautious brood over to the one lad who snapped at her and Ron prior. Nonetheless, Lyra was able to pick up on the slight glow in the stern eyes of this new witch when she scanned over them, one final time.

"Now, during your time here... as you grow in your education within these halls, come to know that your House will be like your family. House points are earned with triumphs, kindness, and virtue, while rule-breaking and mistreatment, or altercations of any sort will cost you points. Here at this school of wizardry, it is our one and only priority that each child coming into our mentorship will be kept safe and secure. Obedience and consideration of our rules and restrictions are not there to hinder you in any way, shape, or form. They are there to protect you, for you are, from this moment on, heirs to the future of the Wizarding World. Your strength and wisdom gained through your seven years will be called upon, one way or another. Allow us to teach, mentor and protect you as you learn. All we ask is that you all each consider what is asked of you. Never will we ask too much or of too little of you. I am among the many mentors, upon you will see and meet tonight after the welcoming feast. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. Head of Gryffindor House and true Mistress of Transfiguration."

Many of these newcomers were ultimately google-eyed at the speech, even some of the few that followed Draco along like puppies were taken aback. These were the basic ground rules, as it were... and not guidelines, as some were trying to hope for, thanks to all the murmurings she began to hear behind her and Ronald. Lyra had to keep her own head-on, even though there were such standards here, she still had her watchful Guardian here, whom she was yet to spot. He would be an easy one to catch.

"Keep your cloak on... Maybe we'll be fetched by Gryffindor..." Ron whispered.

"That's the least of my worries..." she uttered under her breath.

Before they knew it, those golden doors flew open into the next room, which happened to be an mighty, ornate hall. It almost blinded them by an array of floating candles and billowing torches on each side of the massive space. Lyra just went along with the group, partially hiding, as the gathering went onward. Gargoyles bearing the mighty torches all seemed to turn their stony heads at their direction as they all entered inside.

Spread-out, there were four, devastatingly long tables that spanned from some odd feet from the door to all the way down to what looked like the Head Table that he had mentioned before.

"They've bewitched the ceiling!" came the know-it-all's voice. "To reveal that night's sky. I read it in Hogwarts: A History."

If it weren't for that, Lyra would have narrowly missed it as annoying as the statement sounded coming out of that mouth. Along with many, she looked up to the high arched ceiling. When she expected to see beams and stone, sparkling stars and passing clouds above a mass of floating candles met her gaze making her imagination go to full abandon! It was only a manner of time when she realized that there were many eyes on them before they came upon an old wooden stool. On it sat something uncanny and as old as the moon, it seemed. It was a crinkly old pointed hat that hung down from weariness, completely lifeless, as they all gathered before it. Lyra was still trying to process all this, and what she had gathered thus far was that the Head Table was filled with many different characters; witches and wizards who were high rank. Professors, her thoughts rang and she caught onto a face that she worried ever not seeing at first.