I crossed the threshold of the great, wooden doors, shaky whisps of white rising from my lips and dissipating far before they reached the ceiling. My eyes traced the lines of mortar between each stone tens of feet above me for a few moments, and I wondered briefly just how many stones I would find holding up the solid skeleton of this grand establishment.

I looked back down – at where my freshly polished new shoes stood strikingly black against the pale stone floor. I took a single step forward, placing it on the stair in front of me as if testing the ground not for its stability, but for my ability to hold myself up on it. Another step. And another.

It was only on looking back when I reached the top that I realised it was only a short flight of stairs, but it had taken what felt like a lifetime.

I turned back again and looked straight ahead of me, and as I did so, it was as though my ears were tuning in only to what I could see, as suddenly, through the widely opened doors that faced me, came a roar – a commotion that grew in volume the more of it I took in with my eyes.

Compared to the dimly lit corridor and staircase I found myself in, the room before me was bright and colourful, blues and yellows and reds and greens, vivid and loud with activity. Four hardwood tables spanned the length of the massive hall, with a fifth at the top that covered the width. At each table sat an alarming number of people, cloaked, colour-coded and laughing and smiling and cheering. A lesser but odder assortment of people populated the one offset table at the top. Down the centre line between the long tables were more people, but these ones were standing, colourless and directionless, like me.

There had to be hundreds in that room. Maybe a thousand.

Shakily, I stepped back. Was it too late? Had I been spotted? Or could I sneak back from whence I came?

I went to turn away, but before I could, a rippling red caught my eye and I stood still as my vision trailed up, away from the people, from the noise. The tall walls had been lined with scarlet and gold flags and drapes with a regal lion depicted on it, and between the flags occupying the empty space above the tables were ... floating candles.

I blinked and stepped forward once more, naively hoping that that one step would bring me closer to the oddity I was witnessing. I looked for strings, fishing line, some kind of attachment – nothing. They were just ... there. My mouth sat agape and I watched the nearest candle dip lower and lower, it's flame flickering as it moved, and then rise once more towards the ceiling ...

The ceiling. With a gasp, I drank in the sight of the night sky twinkling through the ceiling as if it weren't there – no, it was there, but the sky appeared contained within it, the swirling of stars almost tangibly hanging inside the hall itself. The sky was crystal clear, the crescent moon shining brightly between the stars of the Milky Way galaxy that washed over the ceiling like a multicolour blanket.

"Marvellous, isn't it?"

I leapt into the air, my chest contracting anxiously as I turned and saw a middle-aged man standing beside me. When did he get there? He was looking up at the stars with me, and the light seemed to caress his worn features and earthy, tattered robes. He looked back down at me, gentle concern in his warm eyes as he said, "Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you."

He smiled, a tired but genuine expression, and held out his hand. The warmth radiating from him soothed me a lot quicker than I thought normal for me, and I found myself tentatively I reaching out.

"Come now. We'd best be joining the rest of the students."

His hand was calloused and torn, but warm. I didn't seem to have a choice in the matter as his fingers closed around mine and I was led inside. He didn't rush me; instead he walked at my pace, slow and steady, encouraging. The candles and stars twinkled above me, and I found it easier to look at them than at the people as we approached the end of the tables, the line of standing black robes.

"You'll be safe here," the man said as we stopped, and I realised I was standing at the end of the directionless mass. "Eat this. It'll help."

As he let go of my hand, before I could retract it, he slipped a small piece of chocolate into my palm and closed my fingers around it. It was cold, and I briefly wondered how he kept it so cool if he'd kept it on his person. I looked down at it, then raised my head to say "Thank you," but nothing came out. He nodded, however; it was enough.

He slipped away from me, making his way to the front of the room. I watched as he passed the tables and took a seat at the top on the far right-hand side. His eyes left me, and I suddenly felt very alone, surrounded by noise and commotion and my increasing heartbeat.

A voice rang out across the hall and the tables fell silent in seconds.

"Welcome, everyone, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I tried to look for the source, but couldn't see through the tall black robes. A speech began, but I couldn't concentrate on it; my breathing heavy, I looked back down at the chocolate in my hand and, against my better judgement, decided to bite into half of it.

Immediately I felt a sense of relief. What is this? A calm washed over me like none I'd ever felt before, and for the first time that evening I could no longer hear my heartbeat in my ears. Everything became clearer to me, as though my lifting anxiety had taken with it a haze that had blocked my eyes and ears. I listened in.

"... the Sorting. Professor McGonagall, if you please."

There was the sound of a chair moving followed by the click-click-click of heeled shoes on the stone floor. The crowd of robes in front of me parted just a little, enough for me to see an emerald green shimmer, a robe, donned by an elderly woman who stepped up to a stool that had been placed in the front-centre of the room.

"Now, I will read your names one by one from this list, and each of you will put on the Sorting Hat and it will announce your house," she said matter-of-factly. "Then you will sit with your peers."

I realised then that she was holding a tattered, patched-up old hat by its tip. It was creased and shabby. Did she say it would announce my house?

I gulped – my entire life, my name had put me at the top of every alphabetical list I'd ever been on. My breathing became shallow and I clutched at my robe as she unrolled an awfully long piece of parchment and adjusted her spectacles. I closed my eyes and shoved the second half of the chocolate in my mouth, chewing quickly and reveling in the feeling of calm that it brought me.

And then it came.

The chocolate didn't stop me from cringing, but it did help me as I took a step forward, closing the distance between me and the woman with the hat. I could feel the eyes of every black robe around me, silent and curious and judging as I stepped up, one, two, three short steps and then turned to face them; their eyes all locked on to me and I froze, gripped by invisible hands.

A soft, warm cloth material was placed on my head. It distracted me from the monochromatic glares – not because it startled me, but because I could hear it. Whispering. Deep in the depths of my mind, it called my name – my real name – and beckoned me into myself, inducing self-reflection with a thought.

"Mmm ... curious. Secretive. Silent. Afraid."

I cringed and closed my eyes. Yes, I'm a coward. I can't help it.

"You are afraid, but far from cowardly. You have an inner strength I don't see in many."

I shook my head. No, I'm not. I'm not strong.

"You are very strong. Mmm ... self-reliant. You're also ... a bit cunning. Protective of those you are loyal to. Indeed ... what house would you fit in, I wonder?"

I opened my eyes again but looked up, away from prying eyes to the starry ceiling, wishing for it to take me away.

"You like the sky?"

I nodded. Far more than people.

"Is that what you seek? To know your world, to learn?"

Yes!

I could feel my heart swell – even amongst these robes and eyes, the thought of sitting under the night sky reading a book made me sigh, and I thought of what I would give to be there right now, in peace with the silence of the world and away from all these cloaks.

"Then it shall be so ... you will find sanctuary in Ravenclaw."

The last word boomed out across the vastness of the hall, outside of my head where all our previous conversation seemed to be. To my surprise, the table to the far left burst into cheer, and hat was lifted immediately from my head. Two of the blue and black cloaks from their table came to me and, with loud smiles and bright words, pulled me back with them and made room for me.

Amongst all the resistance my body could express without outright freezing, nestled deep inside my shaking heart was an excitement that I couldn't explain. I sat down at the table between the two and looked up at their faces. The robe on my left grinned down at me with eyes – one green, one brown – locked into mine.

"Name's Alistair," they said, voice clear now as the cheering subsided. "This is Jaimi. You can come to us if you need anything. Welcome to Ravenclaw."

Who were these people to be so welcoming and accepting of someone they'd only known the name of for two minutes? I turned back to the emerald robe to see the fate of the next directionless student, filled with wonder about the surprisingly fascinating new home I now found myself in. Maybe it was just the magical chocolate, but somehow I felt as though this was the start of the life I had always wished I could have.