Welcome Feast [2025/2026]

Hogwarts possessed a certain timelessness exemplified nowhere better than in the Great Hall. Cradling the illusion of the night sky, the room's gentle and unchanging arcs stood as silent witnesses to countless generations of young witches and wizards as they took their first steps into the world of magic. Indeed, on this very evening, the Great Hall would see the latest batch of over-eager youngsters sorted into their respective houses and, with any luck, would continue to do so for decades and centuries to come. To the unblinking shutters of time it was without a doubt an unchanging ritual practiced years after year without fail.

And yet as Andrei Kessler—Hogwarts' newest headmaster—sat at the head of the Great Hall he found himself overcome by the changes of the past year. He had gone from professor, to near-embalmed corpse, back to professor, and now, finally, to headmaster. It was enough to make the normally level-headed man's head spin. Yes, even as he sat at the center of the staff table—notably opting to use the same type of chair as every other staff member and not some audacious throne of sorts—he had a hard time not worrying that he would soon wake from such a pleasing dream and find himself back in a St.Mungos ward.

It all became a bit too real, however, when it came time for him to speak. Smoothing out his Ravenclaw blue robes, pushing his glasses up his nose, and stepping up to the ornate podium at the front of the hall, Andrei felt the same thrill he'd first felt when he'd taught his first lesson in college. No, this was no dream.

"Good evening," his magically enhanced voice boomed through the chamber. "Good evening, one and all."

He allowed his gaze to wander over the four long tables laid out before him; somewhere his son was looking up at him from the sea of yellow, red, blue, and green.

"I hope you all had a wonderful time away from school," a gentle smile spread across the man's tomb sickness scared face as a few groans of students unhappy with being back could be heard. "As many of you may know, last year was, unfortunately, Headmistress Goshawk's final year with us here at Hogwarts and with her departure, I have taken up the role of headmaster. I would also like you all to welcome..."

He went on to introduce the new staff members who had been onboarded over the summer and outline a few ground rules for the year to come. Those who paid attention might notice that these new additions checked at least one of two boxes: they were well-regarded in their field of study or they carried an influential name in the wizarding world at large. Adelaide was indeed an excellent businesswoman as Hogwarts' growing endowment could attest to, but her understanding of the academic world was lacking. If her legacy would be stabilizing Hogwarts' financial books, then Andrei's, he hoped, would be the restoration of Hogwarts' academic excellence.

"And, lastly, a word on current events," Andrei's tone turned serious and his normally kind gaze hardened. "The world in which we live is changing and, while I understand the constant barrage of news can be distracting, I implore each and every one of you to remember your studies. Because, when it's all said and done, you will indeed find yourself in a different world when you leave Hogwarts and it is the skills you learn and friends you meet here that will allow you to navigate this brave new world."

A wry smile slipped across the man's face.

"Now, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm getting a bit hungry," he gave a single clap and mountains of food appeared on each of the four tables. "And, I do believe we have a bit of sorting to do as well."

Picking up a goblet of orange juice and raising it, his last words were swallowed by the spontaneous conversations that erupted across the hall.

"Here's to another year."

With his part said and the students devolving further into frenzied eating and bantering, headmaster Kessler returned to his seat. Yes, Hogwarts was timeless, but it was a timelessness accentuated by change. Change of staff, students, and calendar, but timelessness of spirit. There really was something magic about the school.

Dominique was excited that she was going in her third year. As she was excited for all the new things that could happen. This year she was going to try out for the quidditch team. And she hope that she would make it. Since last year she chicken out at the last moment. There was some people that she did let done, but not this year. She was so excited to see Mercy and Mimosa. Dominique had missed her best friends. She couldn’t wait to tell them about everything that happened over the summer. New York was on the top of the list. Telling about her parents getting divorce was something that she was going to try and avoid.

Right now she was ready to watch the sorting. As she remembered what was feeling and the thoughts that was going through her head right before. This year was going to be great and had a good feeling that it was going to be one that everybody would remember. It was going to be good because she keep telling herself that. And she knew that she would have to be strong for her mom. As she knew that only thing that she could do now was just worry about her grades. This year was going to be the year for Dominique. It was something that she could feel in her gut.

Mariah was used to being the new kid, but that didn't mean she liked it. She told herself it was worth it to get to learn magic, and besides, it was too late to back out now, but...well, everybody noticed a transfer student. It was hard not to. Especially with a ceremony like this.

After disembarking from the train, she had been told to join a smaller group of students who were being led to a different door in preparation for the sorting ceremony. She had quickly noticed that she was the only student in this group who was older than eleven years old - and she looked very clearly out of place.

As she clambered into a boat with two younger girls, she could feel them staring at her. She kept her head low as she pushed the oars, hoping they wouldn't ask the questions they so clearly wanted to ask.

The boat ride was mercifully silent. As they approached the castle, Mariah peeked up at the imposing stone turrets, imagining what the view must be like from the top. She imagined she would spend a lot of time up there if she could. It would be good for her muse.

She couldn't deny there was something distinctly magical about the place. It felt old and mysterious, like its stone walls were imbued with centuries of history. That was something she had never seen in America, especially the West Coast. Nothing held quite as much gravitas in California.

When they reached the shore, someone led them up into the castle and told them to wait by a large stone staircase. They would soon be called into the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony.

Mariah felt her palms start to sweat as she realized what this would mean. She wouldn't be able to lay low in the midst off all these first years - everyone's eyes would be on her. Her heart sped up as she imagined the confused whispers and mutterings from the other students watching. She was too old to be sorted with the first years. She stood out.

She wasn't nervous about the sorting itself. Mr. Weber had told her not to worry about it - Don't take the houses too seriously - and honestly, she had no preconceived notions about the significance of each house anyway, so the sorting was simply a formality. The fact that it was public, that she would stand before the entire school while it happened...that was beyond terrifying.

Her breathing became shallower and more erratic as the time drew nearer. She tried to calm herself down. Your name is near the beginning of the alphabet. You won't be up there very long. It wasn't working. Stop freaking out. If you freak out you'll draw more attention to yourself. Do you really want to be known as the girl who panicked at the sorting? No, that made it worse. Breathe. Just breathe. You have just as much of a right to be here as anyone else. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her racing heart.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked. Mariah looked down to see a little girl staring up at her worriedly. She tried to say, "I'm fine," but nothing came out. She felt a small hand clasp hers in solidarity.

"I'm nervous too," the girl said. "My dad says if I'm not in Gryffindor I can't come back for Christmas."

Mariah blinked. "That's...harsh," she managed.

"I think it was a joke, but I hope I am in Gryffindor. Both my parents were. Are you American? You have an accent."

"I...yeah. Yeah, I am."

"That's cool. Did you just move here? Is that why you're so old?"

"Yeah. I moved here two months ago." Mariah was beginning to feel a little bit more comfortable. At least one person was friendly here. Even if it wasn't someone her own age.

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

"So are you a fourth year or a first year?"

"Fourth," she responded. At least there was that. She was only getting sorted with the first years; she wasn't actually three years behind. Mr. Weber said she wouldn't have a problem keeping up.

"What house do you think you'll be in?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe Hufflepuff." Mr. Weber had briefly explained the four houses, and she hadn't particularly identified with any of the other three. Still, he had told her not to stake her identity on the ramblings of an old hat, so she was determined to make the most of whatever happened. It wasn't like her parents would care either way, unlike this girl's father. Perhaps it was a good thing that her parents were muggles.

"Dad says they're nice in Hufflepuff. If I'm not a Gryffindor, that's the next best thing. I'm Tillie, by the way. Well, really it's Matilda, but I hate Matilda. It makes me sound like an old hag."

"I'm Mariah." She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and realized she had managed to relax. She liked Tillie.

Someone cleared their throat, and the new students brought their attention to the top of the stairs where a man in dark robes stood to greet them.

"Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts," the man said with a wry smile. His voice was gentle, but it carried, and a hush fell over the the gathered children. "We're ready for you now. If you'll follow me, the sorting is about to begin."

Mariah filed in behind the other students, Tillie's hand still in hers. They pushed through a set of wooden doors, and emerged in a cavernous hall. Four long tables were filled with students in colored robes staring up at them, and Mariah felt her face begin to heat up. She tried to look somewhere - anywhere - else to avoid the possibility of making eye contact, and her eyes landed on the ceiling.

It was magnificent. The entire ceiling was a skylight, and she could see stars shining through, occasionally obscured by floating wisps of cloud. Candles hung in the air by magic, lighting up the room. Mr. Weber hadn't described any of this. Transfixed as she was by the ceiling, Mariah was almost able to forget the situation she was in. The other students in the hall slipped her mind for a moment.

She snapped back to reality when a voice started to sing. It took her a moment to find the source of the noise, but her gaze finally landed on the battered hat sitting on a stool. She cocked her head and listened as the Sorting Hat sang a short song about the traits of each house, then fell silent. The information was about the same as what Mr. Weber had told her. She looked down at Tillie and saw that the younger girl looked just as awestruck as she felt.

A few seconds later, a young woman standing near the stool began to read from a list of names.

"Alton, Joseph."

A boy with sandy blonde hair that fell into his eyes broke away from the clump they had formed and stumbled toward the stool. He lifted up the hat, plopped himself down, and yanked it onto his head. The hat seemed to deliberate for a moment.

"Hufflepuff!" it finally proclaimed. The table filled with yellow-clad students erupted into cheers, and Joseph removed the hat, replaced it on the stool, and hurried down to join his new house. Mariah made note which table belonged to Hufflepuff, in case that was the house she was sorted into. Her heart started pounding again as she remembered how close it was to her own turn.

"Bathley, Nathan."

Another boy pulled away from the group and headed toward the stool. The hat took very little time deciding.

"Ravenclaw!"

The blue table applauded, and Nathan found a seat. Mariah's heart started hammering. She could be next.

"Beckham, Tabitha."

Okay, she was definitely next. She squeezed Tillie's hand as she watched a dark-haired girl place the hat on her head.

"Slytherin!"

Tabitha rushed to join the green table. Mariah figured the red one must be Gryffindor, then. At least I won't make a fool of myself by going to the wrong table.

"Berkeley-Benton, Mariah."

Blood rushing in her ears, Mariah finally released Tillie's hand and emerged from the group. Her legs felt shaky, and she kept her eyes firmly on the hat as she crossed the dais, trying to block out any thought of her audience. When she finally reached the stool, she gently picked up the hat and placed it on her head as she sat down. It fell down over her eyes, and she found herself grateful for the excuse not to look at the other students. All she could think about was please getting this over with quickly so she could stop being the center of attention.

Oh, don't you worry, a voice said in her ear. She nearly jumped. I know exactly where to put you.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted, and Mariah let out a sigh of relief, mentally thanking the hat for its promptness before removing it and setting it back down on the stool. She all but fled the dais, legs feeling like a jelly as she collapsed into the first empty seat she could find at the yellow table.

As the sorting continued, Mariah felt herself slowly calm down as her body realized she was out of danger. By the time Matilda Heitman was sorted into Gryffindor, Mariah's breathing was normal, and she was able clap excitedly for her new friend. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad here after all.

After what had turned out to be the bestest train ride ever - the traditional Slytherin carriage taken over by so many Gryffindors that by the time the speeding locomotive entered the hilly, decidedly nearer side of Scotland and everyone reached for their school robes, almost no one could tell which child belonged to which House. - where Mimosa had regaled her friends with tales of her and Mercy's trip to India, the child was nearly bouncing off the walls as she entered the castle, arms linked with Mercy's. Little Mimosa had no intention of sitting at the Slytherin table, especially now that Mercy looked decidedly more peaky after the train ride. During her accounts of their adventure, Mimosa had left it to her best friend to play out the more adventurous portions of their journey and it had clearly tired the older witch out.

"Hey Dia, wait up!" the young brunette called out, ignoring Ji Hyun's frantic waving towards a seat he'd saved her and instead heading for the table adorned in red and gold. Bushrah slunk behind them meekly, watching as one by one, everyone left for their House tables save Mimosa who could not be parted from Mercy for any reason. As Squid Boy finally walked off to the Serpent's side of the hall, Bushrah glanced nervously at him, contemplating going after him. If Mimosa could sit at Gryffindor, she could sit at the Slytherin table too. The brave thought flickered across her face for a moment before she fell into step beside Mercy, timidly offering the Chaser her arm to link with.

Of course, there were a dozen more people on the Gryffindor table who swooped down upon them for conversation a minute later, easily making room for Mercy and herself among them. The American witch stood out in the row of red, the emeralds of her buttons glinting brightly in the soft glow of a thousand candles adorning the halls. Had the child not been so busy indulging her own self, she would have spared a moment for the beauty of the Great Hall at feast time. As it was, Mimosa rarely noticed things that were somewhat outside her own personal sphere of acknowledgement.

The sorting began soon after, Professor Grayson's voice carrying from the front of the hall where all the first years stood. Mimosa spotted Lilac (finally! The girl had been absent all train ride, where had she been?). "There, that's our mechanic's daughter," she called out loudly across the table, earning a few interested "oh really"s and some downright snobbish looks towards the unsorted first year. Mimosa hadn't meant anything beyond an explanation by the young blonde's introduction so took no notice of the reactions her words had illicited, instead focusing on what appeared to be a rather tall first year.

"Alton, Joseph."

It was so so hard to remain quiet while the First years were being sorted, so naturally the girls kept up a stream of whispers throughout. Dia recounted the stories of her visit to New York and her birthday for a brief few minutes before Lilith took over, something about cats. Mimosa of course spoke at great length of the wonderful last day of summer she had had with her Jacques and Clara, how she'd been taken to a place where they made designer ice cream in any shape you asked them to. Mimosa had asked for an ice cream cake shaped like Hogwarts and Jacques had made sure the entire confection castle had been decked out in green and silver while Clara watched from a few feet away.

"Berkeley-Benton, Mariah."

"Look, the transfer student's being sorted," Zoya or Zizah (Mimosa couldn't bother remembering which one of the triplets it was) pointed out, catching teh table's interest. But the tall person was sorted in Hufflepuff and the whispering began anew.

"Capulet, Lilac."

"Is that the servant?"

"No the driver's daughter?"

"No, the cook's daughter."

Before Mimosa had a chance to clarify that Artemis was in fact a manager of the Clement's motorized vehicles, the hat had already loudly declared Lilac a Slytherin. Mimosa watched the young girl skip off to the table and.... take the seat between Ji Hyun and Squid Boy. The witch didn't understand why but her stomach suddenly turned. the elves must have cooked soemthing wonky tonight... Regardless, she held on to Mercy's hand a little more firmly for the rest of the meal.

The sorting took forever and ever, as if Mr. Grayson and the other lady with the scroll were doing it on purpose. But finally Yazdamiford, Ira was sorted into Ravenclaw and the food began to pop into existence!

And all doubts were forgotten as Mimosa took a helping of warm stew for herself and Mercy, quiet content to share with the other witch who was starting to look a little better with food inside her. Now she just had to make sure Mercy ate enough to be back at full strength by the d of the night because another Quidditch season was going to start soon and Gryffindor needed their best player.

Just as Slytherin needed Mimosa!