(Intro)
Yo!
Whole hall, quiet—listen up, here we go!
Thousand years of wisdom tucked under my brim,
Don't judge the patches, I ain't here to look grim.
Hogwarts order? I write the rules, that's my hymn!
(Verse 1)
Drop the silk top hats, kill the flashy pride,
I'm the one true magic hat—the OG inside.
I see every twisted thought spinning in your mind,
Four long tables waiting—let me break it down:
Red-gold flames that burn away every fear (Gryffindor!)
Blue-bronze eagle wings, knowledge cutting clear (Ravenclaw!)
Yellow-black badger paws, loyalty to the core (Hufflepuff!)
Silver-green serpent eyes—not cold, just hardcore (Slytherin!)
(Hook)
Don't tremble, new blood!
Don't hide those eyes!
The second the hat drops on your head
You follow what your heart decides.
Listen to my rhythm, feel the vibe,
Find your table, take your stride—
Hogwarts' rhyme is my masterpiece… now let's ride!
(Verse 2)
...
The staff table stared in stunned silence. Only Dumbledore tapped his fingers along with the beat, thoroughly entertained.
Professor McGonagall endured the performance with visible patience. "When I call your name, step forward, sit on the stool, and place the hat on your head."
"So it really is just a hat?" Ron whispered to Harry. "Still hoping for Gryffindor though. George and Fred would never let me live it down if I end up anywhere else."
"What do you think, Julien?" Harry asked, nerves showing.
"I'm easy either way," Julien shrugged.
"Don't be easy! Whatever you do, stay out of Slytherin! Most dark wizards came from there. And that Malfoy git—his whole family's Slytherin." Ron kept muttering warnings.
Liriya listened silently behind them, ice-blue eyes flicking between the boys.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "The Sorting will now begin."
"Hannah Abbott!"
The golden-haired girl blushed scarlet, stumbled forward, and sat. The enormous hat slid down over most of her face.
After a few seconds the hat roared, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The yellow-and-black table exploded with cheers. Hannah beamed, hurried over, and took the end seat while several older students reached out to welcome her.
Julien let out a quiet breath. The "Iron Hat Queen" is back on her throne. The main plot should stay on track. The hat's rap had genuinely caught him off guard.
"Caelum Julien Black!"
The moment McGonagall read the second name the hall fell into stunned silence, then erupted in frantic whispers.
"Black? Which Black?"
"Is there even a Black left this generation?"
"Probably just some Muggle-born with the surname…"
The Slytherin table murmured among themselves. Prefect Gemma Farley and Marcus Flint exchanged sharp glances.
At the staff table a bat-like man in black robes whipped his head around at the name, face flashing shock and fury—until his eyes met Julien's. The anger vanished, replaced by confusion. He shot a questioning look toward Dumbledore.
Dumbledore simply kept smiling, clearly in the know.
Julien wore the same calm smile as he walked forward unhurriedly.
"Ron, why's everyone reacting like that to the name Black?" Harry whispered.
"If I didn't know you two were related I'd be shocked too," Ron muttered. "You know your parents had a friend called Sirius Black—the one who betrayed them. Obviously this Julien's different—he's on your mum's side—but most people don't know that."
The moment the hat settled over Julien's eyes the entire hall went dead quiet. The Black name carried far too much weight; every gaze locked on him.
"Hmm…" An ancient, wise voice spoke directly inside his head. "Interesting… very interesting. Ancient glaciers giving birth to a clear stream. Most interesting."
"Is that what you see, Mr Hat?"
"I don't read minds—I feel. Let me put it this way, Mr Black. You have Gryffindor courage but hate the spotlight. Slytherin ambition yet you despise schemes. You admire Hufflepuff loyalty but find them too rule-bound. You crave Ravenclaw knowledge yet think they're a bit dull…"
"So," Julien thought back, "can I request day-release and rotate houses daily?"
The hat gave a low chuckle. "You're clever, child… and rather slippery. But deep down what you truly crave is freedom—and change."
"So where do I go? Hufflepuff's fine—closer to the kitchens."
"In that case, following your wish… RAVENCLAW!"
"Wait—what?"
The hat sounded almost embarrassed. "I… I meant to say Hufflepuff. But something in your mind made the word change at the last second."
"Ravenclaw it is, then."
Julien stood up lazily and strolled toward the blue-and-bronze table.
Inside his mental library, Murphy rose from his book pile and padded deeper into the shelves with a satisfied flick of his tail.
At the Ravenclaw table a tall, good-looking older boy leaned over and offered his hand. "Hello! I'm Robert Hilliard, Ravenclaw prefect and Quidditch captain."
"Hi, I'm Julien Black. Just arrived from France—nice to meet you."
"France? Mind if I ask—do you have family in the British wizarding world?"
"Actually, yes." Julien paused deliberately. Robert's eyebrows rose.
"My mother's maiden name was Evans," Julien said with a smile.
"Evans?" Robert looked blank.
A tall older girl with ash-blonde hair behind him clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God—Lily Evans?"
"Yes, Lily Evans was my aunt."
The girl turned to the still-confused prefect. "Harry Potter's mother—her maiden name was Lily Evans."
"Oh! So you're Harry Potter's…?"
"Distant cousin, yeah."
"I see. By the way, this is Penelope Clearwater."