2026 SORTING CEREMONY
Date: September 1, 2026 | Time: 10:07pm
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Date: September 1, 2026 | Time: 10:07pm
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The Assembly Hall grew more and more lively as students filed in from the Dining Hall. The Deliberation this year had stretched on for nearly three hours, and night had long since settled over Penwick. Though the ceremony began later than anyone might have liked, the lateness had done little to dull the anticipation in the room.
Lamps burned low along the walls, throwing golden light across the tall wood panels and the polished floor. The four house sections of benches were now crowded with students in their house robes, their full uniform on display to welcome the new students. The faculty gathered at the back of the room, as they always did. While it was the best position to keep an eye on the student body, it had the advantage of allowing professors to chat, doze off, or potentially pay a lost bet as to which house a student would end up in.
At the front of the room, the unsorted students stood on the stage in their plain black Penwick robes, many fidgeting, whispering, clutching sleeves. Nervous eyes darted from the benches to the looming portraits on the stage wall, each founder painted larger than life, wondering which would call their name.
And at the center of the stage stood Rhiannon Pryce.
It was no longer her first Sorting as Headmistress, and the weight of the role sat differently on her now. Not lighter, exactly, but more familiar. She carried herself with the same practiced calm as before, though this time without the fresh awkwardness of a beginning. The portraits behind her, the sea of students before her, and the knowledge that she had once stood exactly where the unsorted stood now; it was, despite the cliché, truly a magical moment. As the last students took their seats, Rhiannon clapped her hands twice, and a hush fell over the room.
“Welcome to a new year at Penwick,” the sound of her voice transformed the chatter throughout the room into quiet. "And a special welcome to those who stand on this stage before us tonight," she gestured to the unsorted students, turning her gaze toward them. "You are about to take your first steps into something incredible. Take in this moment; the anticipation, the nerves, the potential. Because you will only feel this once.” She hesitated just long enough for a smile to soften her features. “It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?”
She gave the students a moment to ground themselves before continuing.
“For you unsorted students, your first step has already begun,” Rhiannon went on. “You each have been interviewed by our own founders, answering one question from each of them. Since then, they have deliberated carefully, very carfully, this year... Rhiannon's jaw tightened slightly as she gave the portraits a glare for delaying the ceremony so long. And now, the time has come. A founder has claimed each one of you to their house. Those houses are...”
She lifted her hand toward the waiting benches, where the four houses sat in neat, colourful rows.
“House Dranaga," a loud cheer erupted from the Dranaga seating section, "the house of might and leadership."
"House Mercator," another, slightly less enthusiastic cheer, "for the seekers of knowledge near and far."
"House Floranti," Rhiannon smiled besides herself as her own house cheered, "for those who listen and work toward better futures."
"And House Modron," a tepid but genuine cheer, "the house of perseverance and great loyalty.”
Her gaze fell on the unsorted once more. A few shuffled nervously on their feet, others stood rigid and determined. Rhiannon softened her tone.
“Remember,” she said gently, “your house is not a prize to be won. You have been seen and tested by our founders. And tonight, you will be placed among your peers; not as strangers, but as part of a family that will shape you as much as you shape them.”
The Founders’ portraits behind her stirred, as though restless with the weight of what was to come. The air itself seemed to still, waiting. A few students yawned, clearly not used to being up so late.
“Right then, it's late, and we all have a busy day tomorrow. So with that,” Rhiannon concluded, her voice ringing across the hall, “let us begin.”
The first painted Founder cleared their throat, and the Sorting Ceremony began.
Lamps burned low along the walls, throwing golden light across the tall wood panels and the polished floor. The four house sections of benches were now crowded with students in their house robes, their full uniform on display to welcome the new students. The faculty gathered at the back of the room, as they always did. While it was the best position to keep an eye on the student body, it had the advantage of allowing professors to chat, doze off, or potentially pay a lost bet as to which house a student would end up in.
At the front of the room, the unsorted students stood on the stage in their plain black Penwick robes, many fidgeting, whispering, clutching sleeves. Nervous eyes darted from the benches to the looming portraits on the stage wall, each founder painted larger than life, wondering which would call their name.
And at the center of the stage stood Rhiannon Pryce.
It was no longer her first Sorting as Headmistress, and the weight of the role sat differently on her now. Not lighter, exactly, but more familiar. She carried herself with the same practiced calm as before, though this time without the fresh awkwardness of a beginning. The portraits behind her, the sea of students before her, and the knowledge that she had once stood exactly where the unsorted stood now; it was, despite the cliché, truly a magical moment. As the last students took their seats, Rhiannon clapped her hands twice, and a hush fell over the room.
“Welcome to a new year at Penwick,” the sound of her voice transformed the chatter throughout the room into quiet. "And a special welcome to those who stand on this stage before us tonight," she gestured to the unsorted students, turning her gaze toward them. "You are about to take your first steps into something incredible. Take in this moment; the anticipation, the nerves, the potential. Because you will only feel this once.” She hesitated just long enough for a smile to soften her features. “It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?”
She gave the students a moment to ground themselves before continuing.
“For you unsorted students, your first step has already begun,” Rhiannon went on. “You each have been interviewed by our own founders, answering one question from each of them. Since then, they have deliberated carefully, very carfully, this year... Rhiannon's jaw tightened slightly as she gave the portraits a glare for delaying the ceremony so long. And now, the time has come. A founder has claimed each one of you to their house. Those houses are...”
She lifted her hand toward the waiting benches, where the four houses sat in neat, colourful rows.
“House Dranaga," a loud cheer erupted from the Dranaga seating section, "the house of might and leadership."
"House Mercator," another, slightly less enthusiastic cheer, "for the seekers of knowledge near and far."
"House Floranti," Rhiannon smiled besides herself as her own house cheered, "for those who listen and work toward better futures."
"And House Modron," a tepid but genuine cheer, "the house of perseverance and great loyalty.”
Her gaze fell on the unsorted once more. A few shuffled nervously on their feet, others stood rigid and determined. Rhiannon softened her tone.
“Remember,” she said gently, “your house is not a prize to be won. You have been seen and tested by our founders. And tonight, you will be placed among your peers; not as strangers, but as part of a family that will shape you as much as you shape them.”
The Founders’ portraits behind her stirred, as though restless with the weight of what was to come. The air itself seemed to still, waiting. A few students yawned, clearly not used to being up so late.
“Right then, it's late, and we all have a busy day tomorrow. So with that,” Rhiannon concluded, her voice ringing across the hall, “let us begin.”
The first painted Founder cleared their throat, and the Sorting Ceremony began.
The Sorting Ceremony has begun!
Here are a few guidelines for posting in this thread:
- All students are welcome to post, whether an incoming or already sorted student.
- The founders take turns calling out the first and last name of a student, claiming them into their own house. That house usually cheers in response, and the newly sorted student will step forward, have their robe colours changed by Headmistress Pryce, and then join their peers in the benches.
- The entire ceremony lasts no more than an hour.
- Students being sorted are welcome to lightly godmod Headmistress Pryce, saying she gave you a smile, a wink if you were sorted into Floranti, or a small word of encouragement.
