By Violette Twiggs, 6th Year, Ravenclaw, Owl Post Reporter & Occasional Victim of Her Own Curiosity.
So, you got sorted into Ravenclaw.
First of all, congratulations!
Secondly, welcome!
Thirdly, if you are currently standing outside the Ravenclaw common room wondering whether you made a terrible mistake because after fighting to answer a riddle correctly, you were expecting a room full of floating books, mysterious artifacts and extremely serious people discussing the meaning of existence, and at least one person correcting your grammar…
Well. You’re not entirely wrong… But you’re also not entirely right. As someone who has spent almost six years living among the Eagles, I feel qualified to tell you what Ravenclaw is actually like. And by “qualified”, I mean I know which bit of the common room floor creaks, which stair is most likely to make you trip when you’re carrying something embarrassing, and exactly how long you can leave a cup of tea unattended before somebody mysteriously decides it belongs to them. That counts as expertise.
MYTH #1: RAVENCLAWS ARE ALL GENIUSES
No. Absolutely not.
Some of us are very clever. Some of us are clever in very specific situations. Some of us once spent twenty minutes trying to remember where we had left our wand while holding it.
Ravenclaw isn’t about being the person who gets every question right. It’s about being curious enough to want to know the answer. And sometimes the answer is : “I have absolutely no idea, but now I need to find out.” This is how you end up researching something at midnight that started with a completely innocent question like : “Can a Kneazle recognise sarcasm?” Three hours later, you know seventeen things about magical feline behaviour, have accidentally discovered an obscure Ministry regulation from 1842, and have forgotten that you were supposed to be studying for tomorrow’s exam.
MYTH #2: RAVENCLAWS ARE QUIET AND SERIOUS
HAHAHAHA. No.
Have you met us? Yes, Ravenclaws can be quiet. We can sit peacefully in a corner with a book, looking terribly intellectual and mysterious. We can also spend an entire evening arguing about whether a particular Chocolate Frog card is technically worth more if the wizard on it is historically important. We have debates. We have gossip. We have arguments. We have people who will interrupt your conversation to say, “Actually…” and then proceed to explain something nobody asked about for the next twelve minutes. You will eventually learn to identify these people by the look in their eyes. Run while you still can.
MYTH #3: YOU HAVE TO LOVE BOOKS
You don’t. You don’t even have to particularly enjoy reading.
You can love books. You can hate books. You can prefer watching the stars in astronomy, ponder if puffskein fur is softer than mooncalf fur in magical creatures, blast goals in Quidditch, talk to your plants, ignore everyone while you play music, defy frenemies in duelling, become expert in potion ingredients, read ancient runes like it’s your mother language, discuss conspiracy theories about the castle, or knowing precisely which professor is most likely to give you homework over the holidays. Ravenclaw isn’t a library with beds. It’s a house full of people who like knowing things. Sometimes those things are useful. Sometimes they’re completely useless.
Personally, I consider both equally important.
For example, knowing how to properly identify a dangerous magical creature? Useful. Knowing that a Pygmy Puff can fit inside a teacup ? Less useful.
Knowing this or that fact at exactly the right moment during an argument? Extremely useful.
THE COMMON ROOM
Ah. Home. Our lovely Ravenclaw common room. You will eventually stop noticing how beautiful it is. This will happen approximately three weeks after arriving. Then one random evening you’ll look up from your homework and think: “Oh. This place is actually gorgeous.”
And then you’ll immediately walk into a piece of furniture because you weren’t looking where you were going. The common room becomes your second home very quickly. People study there. People nap there. People gossip there. People do homework there. People claim to do homework there. People dramatically announce that they are going to bed and then remain sitting on the same sofa for another two hours. I even caught
There is always someone reading. There is always someone talking. There is always someone eating something they definitely did not get from the Great Hall. And there is always one person who has somehow managed to turn a perfectly normal conversation into a philosophical debate. You will know them. You will probably become friends with them. You may eventually become them.
There are certain times where you simply don’t expect to find anyone. Apparently, the little corner near the tall bookcase is one of them, because one evening, in fourth year, while hunting for a book I’d somehow lost three weeks earlier, I stumbled across Eloise Fairbairn and Theo Wren very enthusiastically kissing. We all froze. They stared at me, I stared at them, and apparently my survival instincts had decided to take the evening off because the only thing I could think to say was, “Do you two need a library book or something?” Eloise turned approximately the colour of a Gryffindor scarf, Theo looked like he’d been caught robbing Gringotts, and I simply picked up my book, nodded very seriously and said, “Right. Well. Carry on.” – But I digress. Back to Ravenclaw house.
THE DORMS
After six years, I know these dormitories like the back of my hand. The girls’ side at least. I know which beds are easiest to fall asleep in. I know which people will wake up if you breathe too loudly. I know which person will claim they “weren’t talking” at two in the morning while very clearly talking. And I know that there is no magical law preventing someone from leaving their belongings absolutely everywhere. (There should be. I’ve checked. Apparently the Ministry has failed us again.)
Your dorm will become one of those places where you can walk in exhausted, throw your bag down, collapse onto your bed and immediately hear: “Oh! You’re back!” Followed by a thirty-minute conversation you absolutely did not have the energy for. You will complain. You will secretly enjoy it. That’s Ravenclaw.
THE RAVENCLAW PERSONALITY
Here’s the thing nobody tells you: There isn’t one. We’re curious. We’re weird. We’re competitive. We’re often lost in our thoughts. We’re kind. We’re argumentative. We’re creative. We’re sarcastic. We’re enthusiastic. We’re painfully enthusiastic. We’re occasionally so determined to prove a point that we forget there was never actually a point to begin with.
You might be the Ravenclaw who knows everything about magical history. Or the Ravenclaw who knows everything about Quidditch. Or the Ravenclaw who can identify twelve different species of magical birds by their call. Or the Ravenclaw who has somehow memorised every secret passage in the castle.Or the Ravenclaw who simply likes sitting somewhere quiet and drawing. You don’t have to fit the stereotype. In fact, please don’t.
THINGS YOU WILL LEARN
After a while, Ravenclaw teaches you some very important things. You learn that being clever doesn’t mean always knowing the answer. You learn that asking questions is not embarrassing. You learn that being wrong is occasionally the fastest way to learn something.
You learn that arguing with another Ravenclaw is a dangerous sport. You learn that never to say “I bet you can’t…” unless you are prepared for someone to spend the next four hours proving that they absolutely can. You learn that a quiet common room is a myth. And eventually, you learn the most important Ravenclaw skill of all: Knowing when to stop researching and actually go to bed.
Nobody has mastered that one yet.
SO, WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE AN EAGLE?
It doesn’t mean you’re the smartest person in the room. It means you’re willing to wonder.
It means you’re willing to learn. It means you can look at something everyone else has accepted and go: “Hang on. But why?” It means you can be curious without being ashamed of it. It means you can be completely fascinated by something ridiculous. It means you can spend an afternoon discussing something nobody else cares about and still come away having made a friend. And it means that somewhere along the way, this strange tower full of books, beds, homework, arguments, laughter, late-night conversations and suspiciously disappearing snacks starts feeling like home.
I’ve been here for six years. I’ve watched people arrive terrified and leave confident. I’ve watched first-years discover their favourite corner of the common room. I’ve watched friendships begin over homework. I’ve watched arguments begin over absolutely nothing.
I’ve watched people change. And I’ve changed too. That’s probably the best thing about Ravenclaw. You’re never really finished learning who you are.
So if you’ve just been sorted into Ravenclaw, congratulations.
Find your dorm. Find your people. Find your favourite chair. Find someone who knows where the snacks are. Welcome to the Eagles’ nest.
If you didn’t, chances are you’ll make a Ravenclaw friend soon anyway.
– Violette Twiggs, Ravenclaw’s curious, quick-witted – or trying to, occasionally sarcastic sixth-year Quidditch Captain, Owl Post reporter, professional overthinker, enthusiastic collector of unnecessary facts and firm believer that asking “why?” is usually how the fun starts.
P.S. Yes, there is absolutely a correct way to arrange the cushions on the sofa. Many have tried, very few successfully. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.
SO YOU GOT SORTED INTO RAVENCLAW?
By Violette Twiggs, 6th Year, Ravenclaw, Owl Post Reporter & Occasional Victim of Her Own Curiosity.
So, you got sorted into Ravenclaw.
First of all, congratulations!
Secondly, welcome!
Thirdly, if you are currently standing outside the Ravenclaw common room wondering whether you made a terrible mistake because after fighting to answer a riddle correctly, you were expecting a room full of floating books, mysterious artifacts and extremely serious people discussing the meaning of existence, and at least one person correcting your grammar…
Well. You’re not entirely wrong… But you’re also not entirely right. As someone who has spent almost six years living among the Eagles, I feel qualified to tell you what Ravenclaw is actually like. And by “qualified”, I mean I know which bit of the common room floor creaks, which stair is most likely to make you trip when you’re carrying something embarrassing, and exactly how long you can leave a cup of tea unattended before somebody mysteriously decides it belongs to them. That counts as expertise.
MYTH #1: RAVENCLAWS ARE ALL GENIUSES
No. Absolutely not.
Some of us are very clever. Some of us are clever in very specific situations. Some of us once spent twenty minutes trying to remember where we had left our wand while holding it.
Ravenclaw isn’t about being the person who gets every question right. It’s about being curious enough to want to know the answer. And sometimes the answer is : “I have absolutely no idea, but now I need to find out.” This is how you end up researching something at midnight that started with a completely innocent question like : “Can a Kneazle recognise sarcasm?” Three hours later, you know seventeen things about magical feline behaviour, have accidentally discovered an obscure Ministry regulation from 1842, and have forgotten that you were supposed to be studying for tomorrow’s exam.
MYTH #2: RAVENCLAWS ARE QUIET AND SERIOUS
HAHAHAHA. No.
Have you met us? Yes, Ravenclaws can be quiet. We can sit peacefully in a corner with a book, looking terribly intellectual and mysterious. We can also spend an entire evening arguing about whether a particular Chocolate Frog card is technically worth more if the wizard on it is historically important. We have debates. We have gossip. We have arguments. We have people who will interrupt your conversation to say, “Actually…” and then proceed to explain something nobody asked about for the next twelve minutes. You will eventually learn to identify these people by the look in their eyes. Run while you still can.
MYTH #3: YOU HAVE TO LOVE BOOKS
You don’t. You don’t even have to particularly enjoy reading.
You can love books. You can hate books. You can prefer watching the stars in astronomy, ponder if puffskein fur is softer than mooncalf fur in magical creatures, blast goals in Quidditch, talk to your plants, ignore everyone while you play music, defy frenemies in duelling, become expert in potion ingredients, read ancient runes like it’s your mother language, discuss conspiracy theories about the castle, or knowing precisely which professor is most likely to give you homework over the holidays. Ravenclaw isn’t a library with beds. It’s a house full of people who like knowing things. Sometimes those things are useful. Sometimes they’re completely useless.
Personally, I consider both equally important.
For example, knowing how to properly identify a dangerous magical creature? Useful. Knowing that a Pygmy Puff can fit inside a teacup ? Less useful.
Knowing this or that fact at exactly the right moment during an argument? Extremely useful.
THE COMMON ROOM
Ah. Home. Our lovely Ravenclaw common room. You will eventually stop noticing how beautiful it is. This will happen approximately three weeks after arriving. Then one random evening you’ll look up from your homework and think: “Oh. This place is actually gorgeous.”
And then you’ll immediately walk into a piece of furniture because you weren’t looking where you were going. The common room becomes your second home very quickly. People study there. People nap there. People gossip there. People do homework there. People claim to do homework there. People dramatically announce that they are going to bed and then remain sitting on the same sofa for another two hours. I even caught
There is always someone reading. There is always someone talking. There is always someone eating something they definitely did not get from the Great Hall. And there is always one person who has somehow managed to turn a perfectly normal conversation into a philosophical debate. You will know them. You will probably become friends with them. You may eventually become them.
There are certain times where you simply don’t expect to find anyone. Apparently, the little corner near the tall bookcase is one of them, because one evening, in fourth year, while hunting for a book I’d somehow lost three weeks earlier, I stumbled across Eloise Fairbairn and Theo Wren very enthusiastically kissing. We all froze. They stared at me, I stared at them, and apparently my survival instincts had decided to take the evening off because the only thing I could think to say was, “Do you two need a library book or something?” Eloise turned approximately the colour of a Gryffindor scarf, Theo looked like he’d been caught robbing Gringotts, and I simply picked up my book, nodded very seriously and said, “Right. Well. Carry on.” – But I digress. Back to Ravenclaw house.
THE DORMS
After six years, I know these dormitories like the back of my hand. The girls’ side at least. I know which beds are easiest to fall asleep in. I know which people will wake up if you breathe too loudly. I know which person will claim they “weren’t talking” at two in the morning while very clearly talking. And I know that there is no magical law preventing someone from leaving their belongings absolutely everywhere. (There should be. I’ve checked. Apparently the Ministry has failed us again.)
Your dorm will become one of those places where you can walk in exhausted, throw your bag down, collapse onto your bed and immediately hear: “Oh! You’re back!” Followed by a thirty-minute conversation you absolutely did not have the energy for. You will complain. You will secretly enjoy it. That’s Ravenclaw.
THE RAVENCLAW PERSONALITY
Here’s the thing nobody tells you: There isn’t one. We’re curious. We’re weird. We’re competitive. We’re often lost in our thoughts. We’re kind. We’re argumentative. We’re creative. We’re sarcastic. We’re enthusiastic. We’re painfully enthusiastic. We’re occasionally so determined to prove a point that we forget there was never actually a point to begin with.
You might be the Ravenclaw who knows everything about magical history. Or the Ravenclaw who knows everything about Quidditch. Or the Ravenclaw who can identify twelve different species of magical birds by their call. Or the Ravenclaw who has somehow memorised every secret passage in the castle.Or the Ravenclaw who simply likes sitting somewhere quiet and drawing. You don’t have to fit the stereotype. In fact, please don’t.
THINGS YOU WILL LEARN
After a while, Ravenclaw teaches you some very important things. You learn that being clever doesn’t mean always knowing the answer. You learn that asking questions is not embarrassing. You learn that being wrong is occasionally the fastest way to learn something.
You learn that arguing with another Ravenclaw is a dangerous sport. You learn that never to say “I bet you can’t…” unless you are prepared for someone to spend the next four hours proving that they absolutely can. You learn that a quiet common room is a myth. And eventually, you learn the most important Ravenclaw skill of all: Knowing when to stop researching and actually go to bed.
Nobody has mastered that one yet.
SO, WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE AN EAGLE?
It doesn’t mean you’re the smartest person in the room. It means you’re willing to wonder.
It means you’re willing to learn. It means you can look at something everyone else has accepted and go: “Hang on. But why?” It means you can be curious without being ashamed of it. It means you can be completely fascinated by something ridiculous. It means you can spend an afternoon discussing something nobody else cares about and still come away having made a friend. And it means that somewhere along the way, this strange tower full of books, beds, homework, arguments, laughter, late-night conversations and suspiciously disappearing snacks starts feeling like home.
I’ve been here for six years. I’ve watched people arrive terrified and leave confident. I’ve watched first-years discover their favourite corner of the common room. I’ve watched friendships begin over homework. I’ve watched arguments begin over absolutely nothing.
I’ve watched people change. And I’ve changed too. That’s probably the best thing about Ravenclaw. You’re never really finished learning who you are.
So if you’ve just been sorted into Ravenclaw, congratulations.
Find your dorm. Find your people. Find your favourite chair. Find someone who knows where the snacks are. Welcome to the Eagles’ nest.
If you didn’t, chances are you’ll make a Ravenclaw friend soon anyway.
– Violette Twiggs, Ravenclaw’s curious, quick-witted – or trying to, occasionally sarcastic sixth-year Quidditch Captain, Owl Post reporter, professional overthinker, enthusiastic collector of unnecessary facts and firm believer that asking “why?” is usually how the fun starts.
P.S. Yes, there is absolutely a correct way to arrange the cushions on the sofa. Many have tried, very few successfully. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.