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If you are a first year or a transfer student, the time has now come for you to discover in which of the Hogwarts Houses you belong. After waiting in the Entrance Hall for what seems like forever, you are invited inside to stand beside the dais at the front of the dining room. Hundreds of eyes follow you as you make your way forward. Up above, the ceiling reflects the night sky as candles float above your head. An old, mangy hat awaits on a stool.
Once all is silent, the hat bellows out its annual song, telling all there is to know about the four Houses in a brief amount of time. The Sorting Ceremony then begins with the hat being picked up and a name being called. One by one, names are said in alphabetical order by surname. One by one, your peers are claimed as a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin. Where will the Sorting Hat place you? That is the question everyone in the room is asking as you now sit upon the stool and the hat is placed on the top of your head.
OOC: You may role-play for the Sorting Hat, but please do not get carried away with your portrayal. If you are role-playing sortings for more than one character, you may include all characters in the same post, or post them separately. This thread only will make an exception for posting multiple times in a row.
Last edited by Charely Potter; 05-02-2026 at 11:43 AM.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ Claimed by Bits ❤️ ~ Queen of Typos ❄ Magical Mosh Pit ❄
"POTTER, ELOY!"
This was it!
His moment was here!
El bounded forward, though at the same time he took great care in putting one foot ahead of the other. It wouldn’t do to trip over himself at this point in life, which he deemed to be one of much importance. It also would do no good if he slid off this stool… which was why El ensured his behind was firmly planted on it for now. Soon enough, he was staring into nothingness - because his vision had gone completely black the moment the Hat had been placed over his head, and in turn, his eyes.
“Well, well. Who do we have here? Another Potter, eh?”
“Mhmm,” the firstie thought, doing his best to be patient.
“Imaptient, I see. Fear not, dear boy. Soon you’ll find out where you belong. Let’s see. I see lots of chivalry. Determination as well. And curiosity!”
El thought that he was about to be placed into either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw but the Hat continued.
“Above all, I see daring, courage and recklessness. Some advice? Do your best to hone in any recklessness that may come over you. That being said, you belong in…
GRYFFINDOR!”
“Thank you for the words of wisdom,’’ the freshly Sorted boy remarked, lifting the Hat from his head. He wasn’t that reckless, was he? Meh… that was a thought for another time. Presently, he just was eager to get to his House table!
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astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
The wait was worse than anything else.
Not the moving countries ― aside from the food.
Not the new school ― the people he had met thus far had been pretty dope.
Not even the whole British money makes no sense situation ― though the girl who had tried to teach him had been...a little terrifying.
No, it was this. Standing in the Great Hall, shifting his weight from foot to foot while a hundred strangers sized him up like he was about to put on a show. That's where CJ started to feel it. Too bad this Sorting thing didn't happen out on the field — sorry, the PITCH — because if he were on a broom right now? Easy. No problem. This? This felt like a very real chance of eating it face-first in front of the entire school.
"Okay," he muttered under his breath, rolling his shoulders once, then twice. "Totally normal. Super chill. Just a hat."
A talking, mind-reading hat — but sure. Just a hat.
He tipped his head back, gaze snagging instantly on the enchanted ceiling. His whole face shifted — genuine awe breaking through the nerves for a hot minute, mouth parting slightly as he tracked the illusion overhead...
"— oh — yep, go time," he mumbled, snapping back as the line lurched forward without him. He shuffled up to catch it, nearly bumping into the person ahead before sidestepping at the last second like he meant to do that.
Candles floated overhead. Students filled the tables. Every single one of them seemed to be watching and, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t pick out a single familiar face in the crowd.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
CJ rocked once on his heels near the back of the group, hands diving into his pockets before immediately coming back out again, then hovering awkwardly at his sides like he'd forgotten what they were for. He rubbed his palms against his robes, adjusted his sleeve, then ran both hands through his chestnut mop and fluffed his curls. He wasn't short by any means, but stuck in a cluster of first years... he felt like a full-grown tree that had somehow wandered into a garden bed.
Then—
"Miller, Cyrus Jamison Miles!"
"Oh — yeah, that's me — hi—” he answered automatically, already moving before the words had fully left his mouth. He slipped through the crowd with quick, loose steps, throwing in an easy grin — and, for reasons unknown even to him, double armed waves to the entire Great Hall like he'd just been introduced on stage.
Just committing to the bit.
He reached the stool, turned, nearly missed it entirely, corrected before he ate it, and finally dropped into place with a small bounce like the bench had surprised him for actually being there.
The hat dropped over his head—
—and suddenly, everything went quiet.
CJ blinked.
"…hi?" he tried.
Text Cut: a conversation with the Sorting Hat
A soft chuckle echoed through his mind.
Polite. Bit scattered. Very familiar, though…
Ah. Miller. Yes — I remember that name.
CJ straightened a fraction under the brim
"Good things," he swallowed, "I hope."
Depends on your definition of "good."
His mouth twitched, somewhere between a grin and 'yeah, that tracks.' The silence that followed made him suddenly veeeeeeeeeeery aware of how loud his own thoughts probably were.
Your father — Gryffindor. Heart on his sleeve, that one. Never quite knew what to do with it, but he felt everything. Loudly.
CJ let out a soft huff through his nose, something warm sparking in his chest despite himself. His foot tapped once against the leg of the stool before he stilled it.
"Yeah," he murmured with a crooked smile. "That sounds about right."
And your mother…
Slytherin.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
Knew exactly who she was and where she was going. Terrifyingly efficient.
"…also checks out."
And you—
The words lingered, stretching just long enough to make him fidget—fingers curling lightly against the edge of the stool, then releasing, then curling again while he began to sway back and forth like one of those tiny birds listen to an absolute jam.
Not quite one, not quite the other. But perhaps much more one than the other.
He leaned forward a fraction without meaning to.
"Like...how a lemon is no quiet a bean, and a bean not quite a lemon, but both are a plant so they are like the other?"
You don't fear the spotlight—but you don’t need it either. You chase the moment. The feeling of it. Movement, momentum, instinct…
There's bravery here — but not the polished kind. Not the kind that plans. Yours jumps first and figures it out on the way down.
"You didn't answer my question… and that feels a little targeted," CJ winced.
You could do well in Slytherin, you know. There's ambition in you — you just haven't decided what to do with it yet.
CJ tipped his head slightly, the brim shifting with him as he considered that — one hand lifting like he might gesture before remembering, right, hat. He probably shouldn't knock it off while it was in the middle of doing him a favor.
"Yeah, but that sounds like…" he trailed, making a vague circling motion with his fingers anyway, "…a lot of planning."
It is.
He let his hand drop immediately.
"…yeah, nah."
You want to live, don’t you? Not just think. Not just plan. Not just follow. You want the jump, the rush, the story after.
His fingers stilled and the restless energy took a break for once.
"...yeah."
The Hat hummed, satisfied.
Then I know exactly where to put you.
BETTER BE... GRYFFINDOR!
CJ blinked as the Great Hall came crashing back all at once — sound slamming into him in a tidal wave.
" — oh — okay — yeah!" he laughed, a little breathless, shoving the hat up and off his head as he pushed to his feet, grin breaking wide across his face.
He hopped down from the stool with a light bounce, landing a little too quick and needing half a step to steady before turning it into forward momentum. He cut toward the Gryffindor table through the remaining crowd of student left to be sorted, shoulders brushing past someone and a quick 'sorry — hi —thanks —' tossed over his shoulder without easing up.
"Yoooo — Griffin's Door — let's goooo," he cheered, fist pump and all, before he became just another set of crimson trimmed robes in the crowd.
__________________
We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass.....................................
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like
With her hand gripping Tylers she stood, and stared out over the big Great Hall along with the other first years waiting to be sorted. Hundreds upon hundreds of students were all looking at HER. Nervous, Tiana tugged her wet robes down after an unplanned dip in the lake, and took another step closer to her twinbrother. This new place, and its people scared her. The mesmerizing enchanted ceiling, floating house banners, and candles were though good distractions.
"Patterson, Tiana Zendaya!"
Giving Tyler's hand a last squeeze, and after a long glance Tiana reluctantly pulled her hand free from her brother's and walked through the crowd of first years to the center of the dias. Yes, nervous. Taking a seat on the stool, without toppling over she didn't even get a chance to get her bearings before the hat fell down over her eyes, and everything went dark.
"Another Patterson...Interesting. It wasn't long ago I sorted your brother Connor into the house of eagles. You've got other qualities?"
Straightening under the hat, Tiana responded quickly blurting out her words in haste, and sudden fear. "Hi , is that bad? I want a house..any house...i don't want to be not sorted....."
Laughing merrily the hat said "No fear my dear, I have never failed to sort anyone, and I'm not about to start now. I see brightness, lots of courage but also kindness, and a curious mind a bit unlike Connor. But also a love for plants."
It seemed like the talking hat saw straight through her, which was frightening but also accurate.
"Shall I put you in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor? You'd have a bright future in both houses."
"I am fiercly protective of my brother, and I do face situations head on even if they scare me." Tiana chimed in, it had to count for something.
The hat went silent for what felt like very long moments before it announced loudly to the whole hall and made it ring in Tiana's ears. "GRYFFINDOR!" To loud cheers she pulled off the hat, and hopped off the stool, and towards her new house. Tiana hoped that Tyler would soon join her there.
~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ Claimed by Bits ❤️ ~ Queen of Typos ❄ Magical Mosh Pit ❄
"POTEN-PETTISE, SAINA!"
With dainty gracefulness that masked her nerves, Saina stepped forward. She wasn't quite comfortable with the fact that all eyes - or most of them - would be on her. So she did her best to pretend that the Great Hall was empty. This became much easier when the Sorting Hat was placed on her head; the thing slipped right down and covered her eyes. Even if it hadn't, Sai was quite prepared to sit there with her eyes tightly squeezed shut to avoid having to gaze at anyone.
“Ah, Ms. Poten-Pettise. I remember, as though it were yesterday, when I Sorted your brother. But this is not about him. Let's take a look at what I find in here...”
The Hat was quite right; this was not about Tòmas but it did warm her already warm heart that her brother had been mentioned. Could she be a Gryffindor like him?
“A very good question. There is certainly nerve and daringness present. But I see much more, so many more qualities that outshine those.”
Sai's shoulders slumped slightly; it was definitely not safe to say she would be placed in Gryffindor. Then those shoulders lifted again as she drew confidence from the fact that all Houses were remarkable in their own way.
“Quite right you are. The Houses are each honourable. But for you, my dear, I see a curious mind. Intelligence, wisdom. Yes, the decision has already been made for you…
RAVENCLAW!”
There was a gasp from Saina, which was rendered inaudible due to the thunderous applause echoing around the Hall. A Ravenclaw like her daddy! Simply spectacular! She really was her father's princess through and through. Beaming, she now hurried to join her House.
The hat smelled faintly of dust and something older - like stories that had been told too many times and still refused to fade. Lorna barely had time to register that before it dropped over her eyes, the Great Hall disappearing into darkness as the brim slipped low.
For a second - nothing. Just the distant echo of voices, muffled now, like they belonged to another room entirely.
And then - Well, well.
The voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It settled somewhere behind her thoughts, threading through them like it had always been there. This is interesting.
Lorna didn’t flinch. If anything, her first instinct was curiosity. “Hi,” she thought back, because - why not.
There was a pause. Not silence exactly. More like something shifting its attention fully onto her.
Oh, you’re one of those.
A flicker of amusement passed through her, quick and easy. “Oh?”
Another pause. Longer this time.
Yes, the Hat hummed, quieter now, more thoughtful. You don’t resist much, do you? You… move with things. Adjust. Adapt.
Images flickered - not quite memories, not quite imagination. Laughter in places that didn’t last. Music threading through everything. The feeling of slipping into new spaces and making them fit.
But not everything, it added, sharper now. No. There are lines here. Something shifted again - deeper this time, like the Hat was turning her over in its thoughts, examining from different angles.
There’s confidence here, the Hat went on, almost to itself. Not loud. Not demanding. But steady. You know what you are - and more importantly, what you are not willing to become.
That rules out a few things.
She smiled, faintly, unseen beneath the brim. “Good to know.”
A low, thoughtful hum followed.
There’s warmth in you, it said next, softer. Real warmth. You make space for others without losing your own shape. That’s rarer than you think.
The words settled.
Not heavy.
Just… true.
And loyalty, it added, almost as an afterthought - but it lingered longer than anything else had. Not the loud, declaring kind. The quiet sort. The kind that stays. The kind that doesn’t need to be seen to be real.
Something in her chest shifted at that. “But?” she prompted lightly, because it felt like there was one coming.
The Hat almost sounded amused again. But you could go elsewhere, it admitted. There’s independence here. A refusal to be shaped.
There was a pause then. Weighing. Considering.
The tone changed - not dramatic, not sudden. Just… settled. Like something had clicked into place.You don’t need to stand apart to be yourself, it said finally. You don’t need to prove it, either.
You’ll do best where that warmth is valued. Where you can grow without being taken from. Where connection doesn’t come at the cost of ownership.
A quiet finality settled in.
Yes…
And then, out loud:
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
The word landed, clear and certain, and something in her expression shifted -not surprise, not resistance. Just a small, almost amused acceptance, like it made sense in a way she didn’t feel the need to question.
“Okay,” she said under her breath, lips curving faintly.
That tracked.
__________________
......................let's be reckless, unaffected, running out until we're breathless ...............let's be hopeful, don't get broken, and stay caught up in the moment ♥
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• HuffleStud • Knight of The Zodiac • Manly Beard-Grower • Cicatrice de Harry •
Tyler could feel his sister's nervousness, with their palms sweaty. Though maybe it was his palm that was sweaty? Anyhoo, the journey to the castle was amaaaazing! Connor really downplayed it, but his big brother didn't get impressed by alot of things. He definitely planned to embellish the details of all the sights to Ciara and Tyron before they attend within a few years.
Once they were in the Great Hall, Tyler gave a little wave with his free hand at the audience. He wondered where they would be placed? His dad was in Slytherin, but his mum was a Hufflepuff and Connor was in Ravenclaw. Anything could be possible. It seemed they were going in alphabetical order no matter who was nearest to the mystery Hat. It looked really old, but he wasn't going to publically say that.
"You got this, sis." Tyler whispered quickly when Tiana's name was called. He stood with Saina who looked just as nervous. He was about to offer her some words of encouragement too when he heard, Gryffindor! Tyler stopped and clapped with the other older students. "That's my sis!" Seeing her sit with the Gryffindors.
Well, that looks like the perfect house for him. He brushed off his robes before his name was called.
"Patterson, Tyler."
Tyler practically strutted over to the stool as one of the Professors held the Hat. He didn't see which Professor it was, but that didn't matter. Sitting down, he thought about what he would tell his dad-
"SLYTHERIN!"
Okay, Tyler's jaw dropped a bit. He barely felt it touch his hair when he looked up. "Wha-" That was it? The applause overshadowed his confusion before he stepped off. Well, he can't look too shocked. But his sister... he thought about making time to sit with her as he walked over to the Slytherin table. Make some room, please, for the next Patterson.
She’d heard all about the ghosts, ghouls and poltergeists. In truth, there wasn’t much she wasn’t prepared for, and yet, the sight of it all still left her…
Speechless.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe her sister’s words, it was just that her descriptions simply didn’t do the Great Hall and all of its magical inhabitant’s justice. How could one properly describe the feeling of ghost passing through your body? Or the sight of a hat animating and breaking into a song? It was an impossible task, even for the most talented of wordsmiths.
Truthfully, it was all just a bit much. It was like someone had taken her primary school and turned the dial to over 9,000!
Taking a deep breath, Haydée closed her eyes as she waited for her name to be called out, doing her best to ignore the other children talking around her. Hands clenched into tight fists, she held her breath in anticipation…
”Salís, Haydée!”
Shivering slightly, her fists opened first, shortly followed by her eyes before she finally took the first step towards the stool. One moment, she was waiting for her name to be called and then, as if someone had pressed fast forward on a remote, she was sitting on an uncomfortable stool, blind and defenceless with a hat covering her eyes. Still, it was better than seeing a hall full of eyes watching her, waiting for her to mess up.
“C’mon, please hurry up” she mumbled under her breath, when what felt like out of nowhere, a voice echoed in her head.
"Aha yes…another Salís”
Haydée had been warned about the talking hat, and yet the voice, had somehow managed to startle her. Jumping, she let out a small squeak before quickly grabbing the stool so as not to fall off.
“You are a lot like your sister, you know? Same fiery spirit and determination to succeed, and yet…”
And yet? AND YET? “I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s kind of rude you know?” her inner voice slightly sassier than anticipated.
Chuckling slightly, the hat continued "and yet I think that putting you in the same house as her would be a mistake. You possess all of her courage and bravery you know? But I feel as though another house would suit you better.”
How had the hat known that was where her consciousness had been lingering? This hat was creeptastic. The sooner she could get it off, leave this stool and sit in anonymity the better.
As if on cue, the once quiet voice in her head echoed out loud across the Great Hall…
“SLYTHERIN!”
Releasing her tight grip of the stool, Haydée ripped the hat off her head quickly and forced it in the hands of the Professor close by before quickly retreating towards the table that was cheering for her. Despite the loud cheers, she couldn’t help but feel slightly put out by the hat’s words, and the house she was sorted into. Why couldn’t she have been put in Gryffindor like her sister? Slipping into one of the free spaces, she finally let her eyes wander over hall, her eyes searching for her sister.
There lived a space somewhere between eager anticipation, nervous excitement, and 'oh no oh Merlin please don't say my name not yet', and Inkeri Mae Darcy-Stemp was currently comfortably in the midst of it. Or uncomfortably. Whichever it was, she was there.
It helped to know she was surrounded by family. Rory Monroe was actually right here with her, in the crowd, and Rafe was at his table, and even Elio over at his. Not Reuben though, who was big and dumb and graduated. Pfft. Also some kids from school, but they weren't family, adopted or ex-foster-but-not-quite or otherwise. Or maybe otherwise. Maybe there were people here who shared her blood, but she decidedly didn't care about them. What she cared about were her unbelievable nerves and the uncomfortable fact that her surname began with a D which was way too high up in the list for her liking and also the fact that her heart felt like it was beating somewhere in the region of her throat and-
"Darcy-Stemp, Inkeri."
Inky took a deep breath and let it out in one long hard huff, like she did just before she had to try and save a penalty. Like the penalty-takers themselves did. She thought about doing some kind of fancy pirouette as she stepped out of the crowd, to show she wasn't at all daunted by the proceedings. But she was nervous. Also, she didn't want to look like an idiot. So she did not do that.
Instead Inky approached the school and waited for the hat to be lowered onto her head, automatically reaching up to clutch its brim as though trying to keep it on her head in high winds. In doing so she only-half-inadvertently showed off perfectly manicured nails, the four house colours represented respectively on her four fingers, and sparkly black on the thumbs. She'd got her mum to do them specially for this Event™.
Hmm... Darcy-Stemp. Now there's two names I know well.
For a moment, Inky debated telling the Hat she was adopted, and so maybe it ought to know hew original name instead. But then she remembered how that name didn't matter, and decided not to mention it. But then she remembered that the Hat could see inside her brain, and so maybe thinking was all it needed. But then she couldn't stop herself from thinking it, so she tried to think about pink elephants instead.
The Hat seemed to chuckle, right into her ear, and she scowled at its insides. Stop that. Pink elephants pink elephants sparkly pirouetting pink elephants.
Naturally. Then let me see... plenty of ambition here, and a girl who knows her own mind. Determination, yes, but tempered by kindness, a softness, a sense of justice.
Inky bristled. Softness? A grave insult. She was not soft. Strikers feared her. Opposing goalies envied her. Her brothers ran from her almighty shin-kicks and shoe-throws.
Oh, I know, you know how to manage people, how to get what you want, but there's no denying this side of you. Hmm, well-balanced. Slytherin would serve you, no denying it, but your ambition, your determination... well, on the other side of the coin is your dedication, your loyalty. You're a fighter and a leader, a cunning one at that, but so too are you a defender, a-...
"I'm a goalie, not a defender," Inky muttered, before she could stop herself. She knew what the Hat meant, she really did, but it was hard-wired into her to correct it on football terms all the same. Football was solid ground, whereas this Sorting, this probing into her mind and her personality, was as unsettling as it was fascinating.
The Hat did that weird chuckling thing again, and then went into a series of hmms and haws at it deliberated between two houses, one that she expected, and the other that she half hoped for even though it wasn't exactly a very cool house. Reuben was one, after all. But then, so was Mum, and Nana. They weren't exactly uncool. They were big boss ladies, and no one liked to cross them.
And it was just after she had come to this conclusion that the Hat came to its own. She sensed it, as though it was taking a breath before its announcement, even though Hats didn't breathe, and she straightened up, ready.
I know, the place for you is...
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Relief. Pure relief. Not that it was Hufflepuff - Inky would have to sift through her feelings on that later, but it wasn't like she was exactly upset about it - but that it was at least over and that she had a house and was a proper Hogwarts kid now and could take the Hat off at last. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, how long her Sorting had gone on for, but it had gone way past her limit of comfort. Or maybe that had happened as soon as she'd put the Hat on.
Springing to her feet, Inky ditched the hat and the stool, flashed a quick grin and double thumbs-up at Rory Monroe, and flounced off towards the cheering Hufflepuff table.
She glanced at her nails as she went; as they'd planned, they had changed to reflect her new house, alternating gold and that same sparkly black. Hm. Actually, it didn't look half bad.
Bug didn't really know how many kids got to this point with the full confidence of knowing where it was they'd be placed, or how many of those ended up being wrong, but he did know that he was one of them. One of the right ones. It was practically a foregone conclusion that he'd end up in Hufflepuff. And it wasn't that he craved it or anything, it was just... it made sense, given all he knew about the houses. Bug was independent, yes, but not Gryffindor-brave or Slytherin-ambitious. He was smart about some things, but not Ravenclaw-brainy or Slytherin-clever. Or maybe he was those things, and more, but surely a love of the natural world and all things that grew - and really, that was what defined him - would place him squarely with the generally kind and nurturing Hufflepuffs. Since he'd gone through the mental process of sorting himself, he'd not really considered many other eventualities.
And so he wasn't all that nervous. Or. Well. Maybe just a little. But the nerves were easily combated by fantasising about the grounds and the lake and especially that inviting-looking forest, and by rubbing thumb and forefinger over a large oak leaf he'd picked from a tree at Stemp House, now secreted away in his pocket. A bit of home to keep him grounded.
It was a fairly long wait, in the end, thanks to a name that sat squarely in the middle of the alphabet and a few lengthy sortings in the run-up to his own. Funny how so many surnames tended to sit in the first half of the alphabet, and so few after. But his time would soon come, and then, before he could start getting too restless...
"Orpington, August."
It was a good thing they said surnames first. Not because Bug didn't know his first name, but because being full-named usually only happened when he'd pushed his luck a little bit and found himself in trouble. That naturally tended to make him nervous - who likes being in trouble? Well, some people, probably, but he preferred to avoid it.
Stepping forwards on legs that were unaccountably shaky (he wasn't nervous, remember? though maybe he was a little bit more nervous now that everyone was looking right at him), Bug stepped up to the stool and sank down onto it, shifting his robes so he could sit comfortably and not have to constantly battle with sliding back off the whole time.
Not that he needed to worry about that. His Sorting was a short one. The Hat was lowered onto his head, and he heard a soft Aha from its depths, and before he could even start peppering it with questions (because of course he had those; this was a mind-reading hat), it had announced its verdict to the Hall.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Bug's jaw fell open as the Hat was lifted back off his head again. What? Really? But surely it hadn't had enough time to really see... Maybe he could get another go, one where it looked into him as hard as it looked into other people. In fact, that was what prompted his next feeling, one of indignation. Not that he hadn't predicted his house correctly (although being incorrect was a little embarrassing, and later he would run through his memory trying to remember who he'd confidently but incorrectly told of his Hufflepuff future, and how certain he might have seemed at the time), but that it had made such a major judgement in so little time. Wasn't he worth a closer look? He didn't feel very Ravenclaw-y; if he didn't feel it, how could the Hat be so sure? Wasn't he more complex than that? Wasn't there more to dig through, before placing him in a house that just seemed... not very obvious?
Questions he would not get answers to right now. Bug had sat there gaping in surprise for several seconds by then, and was soon ushered off the stool. He quickly closed his mouth and slid off, heading for the cheering Ravenclaw table. Already he had adjusted his expectations, starting adapting to the idea, but still he couldn't shake the feeling of being slightly ill-used, misjudged, the idea that his Sorting had been unnecessarily rushed because maybe he wasn't important enough for a proper look. Would he have felt this way if he'd gone straight to Hufflepuff? Yes, he thought. Though maybe the disheartened feeling wouldn't have been as intense as it was right now.
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Sorting Ceremony 
x12 
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