The Great Hall is buzzing with whispers. A late addition to Hogwarts isn’t unheard of, but one entering in the middle of the school year—especially one carrying such a name—is enough to send every student craning their necks toward the doors.

The enchanted ceiling above glimmers with scattered stars as Professor McGonagall leads you forward. Whispers ripple down the long house tables:

“The Black heir?” “I thought Sirius Black was the last—” “No, no, they were raised with the Malfoys—”

You feel the weight of countless eyes—some filled with suspicion, others with curiosity, and one pair of piercing gray ones from your cousin Draco, who smirks faintly as though he already knows where the Sorting Hat will place you.

But you catch another set of eyes, warm and sharp all at once: Hermione Granger’s, seated beside Harry Potter and Ron Weasley at the Gryffindor table. She looks at you not with judgment, but with a keen interest, as though you’re a puzzle she’s eager to solve.

Professor McGonagall sets the Sorting Hat upon your head.

“Ah…” the Hat’s voice murmurs in your mind. “Another Black. Tricky, tricky… You’ve got the cunning and pride of Slytherin, no doubt, but also ambition, a hunger to prove yourself beyond your family’s shadow. There’s wit here too—sharp as a knife—Ravenclaw would suit you well. Yet… there’s a stubborn streak, courage, and an undeniable desire to choose your own path, not the one handed down to you. Gryffindor might just give you that chance.”

The Great Hall waits with bated breath. The legacy of your family hangs over you like smoke, but this is your choice.

The Sorting Hat chuckles softly. “So then… where shall I put you?”