The Great Hall looked like something carved out of myth.

  Vaulted ceilings stretched high above, enchanted to mirror the night sky. Candles floated in rows, flickering golden in defiance of gravity. Four long tables dominated the space, already filled with students dressed in deep house colors—red, green, blue, yellow—buzzing like a hive of young magic.

  Jake made a noise like he’d swallowed a gasp. “Mate, this pce is a cathedral.”

  I said nothing, though I felt the weight of it too. It wasn’t just grandeur. It was history. Layered. Breathing.

  Professor McGonagall led us to the front, where a single, three-legged stool sat under a spotlight, and on it—a ragged, patched wizard’s hat.

  It looked like something fished from a battlefield.

  “Form a line,” McGonagall instructed. Her voice was cool and commanding. “When I call your name, come forward, sit on the stool, and pce the hat on your head. It will do the rest.”

  A hush fell.

  She opened the scroll. “Abbot, Finley!”

  A round-faced boy shuffled forward, trembling. The Sorting Hat barely touched his scalp before shouting, “Hufflepuff!”

  Appuse. Cheers. The yellow table welcomed him.

  Names passed. Purebloods were called, almost ritualistically. One by one, they drifted toward Slytherin or Gryffindor like water drawn to opposing currents. House pride was loud, even in tradition.

  Then—

  “Dawson, Jake.”

  He gave me a wide grin and shot forward like a cannonball.

  The moment the hat hit his mop of hair, it bellowed:

  “Chaos Maker.”

  The entire hall went dead silent for a beat.

  Then, almost zily, it added:

  “Gryffindor!”

  Jake punched the air. “YES! Knew it!”

  He practically moonwalked off the stool and toward the Gryffindor table, grinning like a maniac. A few older students cpped hesitantly. One prefect pinched the bridge of his nose.

  More names followed.

  Then—

  “Rosier, Caelum.”

  Silence.

  I could feel it ripple behind me. The name meant something. Rosier. Heavy. Recognized. Feared.

  I walked slowly toward the stool.

  The hat was pced on my head—and the world went dark behind the brim.

  “Ahhh… now this is a mind I don’t see often…”

  The voice echoed inside my skull. Warm. Ancient. Probing.

  “You’ve walked through blood. Not in this life, no… but your soul—it remembers. Battlefields. Betrayals. You’ve tasted power and learned restraint. A strange mix for one so young.”

  I said nothing. But I thought—you talk too much.

  The hat chuckled.

  “Oh, I like you already. You could do well in Slytherin. Legacy. Cunning. Purpose. You understand ambition.”

  Ambition doesn’t guide me.

  “No? Then what does?”

  Choice.

  “Mm… perhaps Ravencw, then? You are curious. Observant. And deeply aware of the ws beneath ws.”

  I don’t seek knowledge for knowledge’s sake. I seek understanding for survival.

  “Then perhaps… ah, yes. Gryffindor. It’s not always bravery that defines them, you know. Sometimes it’s the willingness to stand alone. Even when it’s dangerous. Even when it costs something.”

  I said nothing. But inside, something loosened.

  The hat didn’t yell this time. It simply announced:

  “Gryffindor.”

  Jake erupted like a firework.

  “THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!”

  McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose as the Gryffindor prefect tugged him down by the colr.

  I walked to the table, eyes scanning the sea of red and gold.

  Jake slid aside to make room and beamed like he’d just won a duel. “Told you we’d be in the same house. Felt it. You’ve got main-character energy.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I muttered.

  “It means we’re gonna do awesome things, mate.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.

  The Sorting continued, but I stopped listening. My mind drifted—thinking not of legacy, or houses, or ancient artifacts—but of my mother and Lyra.

  Were they imagining me here? Sitting under an enchanted ceiling beside a loud muggle-born with wildfire in his heart?

  Probably.

  Eventually, Dumbledore rose.

  He looked as much a legend as I expected: long silver beard, half-moon gsses, robes like woven twilight. And when he spoke, it was warm—oddly kind, not authoritative.

  “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Let us all take joy in old friendships, and great wonder in new ones.”

  His blue eyes sparkled.

  He went on about rules, schedules, and curfews—ending with the important warning: “And remember, the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to all students… particurly those who enjoy poking around where they shouldn’t.”

  His gaze lingered exactly one second on Jake.

  I smirked. Jake didn’t notice.

  Dinner arrived on silver ptters. I pocketed some roast chicken and bread for Kuro, who was tucked into my robes the whole time, mercifully silent.

  Later, the Gryffindor prefects herded us through the winding halls of the castle.

  “Keep up. Watch the stairs. They move. And remember the password: Chimera’s Tongue. Say it clearly, and the portrait will open.”

  The Fat Lady swung aside, revealing the Gryffindor common room: circur, warm, with red drapes, flickering nterns, and soft velvet chairs. It smelled like books and hearthfire.

  Our dorm room was up the boys’ staircase—four beds, four trunks, one window overlooking the ke.

  Jake was already talking with the other two boys—Nathaniel, a quiet half-blood with an interest in magical creatures, and Desmond, a tall, pale boy with an absurdly deep voice for his age who cimed he’d already memorized twelve dueling stances.

  Jake waved me over. “Guys—this is Caelum. My best mate. He’s mysterious and probably knows how to kill a man with a quill.”

  I stared at them. They stared back.

  “…Hi,” Nathaniel said.

  Desmond just nodded.

  I went to my bed, pulled out the napkin bundle from dinner, and unwrapped it for Kuro, who hopped onto the bnkets and began devouring it without so much as a thank-you.

  “Wait, you brought a cat?” Nathaniel gawked. “That’s awesome. What’s her name?”

  “Kuro.”

  “She looks like she bites.”

  “She does.”

  Jake ughed. “Perfect.”

  As the castle quieted and the torches dimmed, I y back in bed, Kuro purring near my head, the other boys whispering pns and fears into the dark.

  I stared at the ceiling.

  New world. New rules. New war? Maybe.

  But tonight, for the first time, I let myself sleep without watching the shadows.

  [End of Chapter 5]