My hands were shaking as I climbed onto the train and looked around. There was so much noise, and everyone already seemed acquainted.

"Dean, I told you, I'm fine." Another first year said, pulling away from an older boy. They continued an argument in their American accents.

A pretty girl with black hair brushed past me, calling after a blonde boy. "You are such an idiot, Arthur!"

"To Harry, from Clara, XXX. Your father is obviously alive, because of the fresh alcohol stains on his trunk, but he's been given it to you, which means it's not being used by your father anymore. Why not? Because it's a gift from Clara, who's a long-standing romantic attachment given the age of the trunk and the three kisses; she's definitely not your mother, because you shows all the signs of having a long-since split family, which means it's a stepmother, and she's obviously gone. If she left him, he'd keep it. If he kicked her out, well, he'd get rid of her stuff—give it to you, for instance."

My head was hurting by the end of this little speech from a gangly dark-haired boy, given to a much shorter blonde boy carrying the trunk in question.

"THEO!"

I looked up at my name and saw Eva waving at me from inside one of the compartments. She beckoned me over to her, and I picked my way around a ginger Scottish girl who was dragging a boy along behind her with a sharp "Rory!" and made my way to her.

"Merlin's beard, Theo, I thought you'd gotten trampled for sure." She said. "Come on in; it's almost empty except for this Muggleborn bloke and a rather talkative painting that's going up in the school this year."

The boy in question was eyeing the painting suspiciously through a curtain of medium length hair.

"Trust me, you never really get used to it." I told him. My father's house had always sported the moving paintings and photographs that were commonplace in the Wizarding world, while at my mother's house the pictures stayed the same.

He looked up. "I'm Colin Caraway. You?"

"Theodora Miller. Call me Theo; Eve does. We grew up together. I'm a Halfblood, Mum kicked Dad out when she found out, but apparently I'm magic enough to be here. You're a Muggleborn?"

"Yep, resident Mudblood, that's me."

"Hello Theodora!" One of the men in the painting said, waving cheerfully. "My name is Sir Michael Sevenson, a knight errant; this is my squire, Fisk. Are you a first year at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah… Um, pleasure to meet you both. What's your story?"

"'Tis one of great adventures and amusing mishaps," Michael said.

"And a whole lot of stupidity," Fisk said in the background. "Seriously, it's unbelievable."

"We have time," I said, sitting down in front of the painting.

X-x-X-x-X

The groundskeeper, Mr. Rhys Williams, led us to the huge wooden doors, and his wife unlocked them for us to pour into the huge entrance hall.

"I'm Professor Song," A woman with curly blonde hair said as she swept into the room with a flutter of a green cloak, carrying a stool, "The deputy headmistress here. You will proceed to the front of the Great Hall and wait for your name to be called. Once it is, step forward and sit on the stool; I'll place the Sorting Hat upon your head and it will call out your House."

"Excuse me, River." The dark-haired girl from the train said. "Will you be calling me as Le Fay or Pendragon?"

"Le Fay."

"Oh, good." The blonde boy, Arthur, said quietly. She stomped backwards onto his foot.

"Come along," Song said, opening the doors to the Great Hall.

There were tons of people sitting silently, watching us all. "What if I'm a Squib?" I hissed to Eva.

She rolled her eyes. "What if you aren't?"

Before I could point out the fact that this was a terrible argument, the Hat began to sing.

I don't even remember the Sorting Hat's song. Something about time and fate and bonds never lost—I was too busy trying not to be ill.

"Adler, Irene."

An extraordinarily good-looking girl sauntered up to the stool and sat down carefully. The hat had barely reached her head when it called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Baxter, Freya."

A pretty girl with secondhand robes walked over next. "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Caraway, Colin."

"Good luck!" I hissed to him.

He nodded thanks with a, "Yo."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Colin went to sit down with the quiet intellectuals, looking unsurprised, and greeted them casually.

"Never would've guessed that one," Eva whispered as someone named Estella Cigam was put into Slytherin after a very long deliberation on hat's part.

"Cormac, Eva."

"Merlin's pants…" She muttered.

I hugged her and then shoved her along to sit on the stool. After a few moments in which I crossed my fingers and prayed she'd be in my house, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

She stood up and heaved a sigh of relief, setting the hat back down. Her entire family had been in Hufflepuff, and they were all really nice people, but her little brothers would never have let live it down had she been Sorted elsewhere.

A nervous looking boy named Lancelot Du Lac joined her a moment later, and then someone named William Ealdor was called up.

"Oh no," His small dark-haired friend breathed.

I smiled sympathetically. "You next?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Theo."

"Merlin."

"Good luck."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

William went to sit by Eva and Lancelot, flashing Merlin a thumbs up as he went.

"Emrys, Merlin."

The hat barely brushed his dark hair when—"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Finnegan, Tarquinia" became a Gryffindor after a fierce whispered argument with the hat. Morguase Gorlois was almost immediately a Slytherin.

Then came the gangly boy from the train, who was still standing with the blonde. "Holmes, Sherlock."

"Not Ravenclaw," He mouthed silently.

I wondered what was wrong with Ravenclaw—I'd always heard from my father that if I couldn't make it into Gryffindor (like him), Ravenclaw was the next best thing—as he was eventually sorted into Slytherin.

Molly Hooper, a mousy girl who was literally shaking as her name was called, became a Ravenclaw herself, along with Martha Jones. They quickly turned to conversation with one another in the sea of bronze and blue.

Then the girl, Morgana, who'd asked the question of her last name was called forward, and I gulped as I remembered that she was Le Fay, and I'm Miller. "SLYTHERIN!"

She glanced around at the Headmaster as she stood up—I looked too and saw him lost in consternation. My letter had said Uther Pendragon was the headmaster; was she his daughter? Stepdaughter?

As I studied him, I missed Professor Song calling my name, and only noticed when a young professor wearing a suit and tie (very Muggle articles of clothing, mind) caught my eye and nodded to the stool.

"Oh!" I said, and Professor Song rolled her eyes.

I rushed over to sit down amid the laughter of the other students, grinning good-naturedly. Eva did an exaggerated facepalm, and Colin was laughing hysterically with the quiet Ravenclaws.

Then I was distracted by a whispering in my head. "Oh, aren't you the enigma? Where to put you, where to put you… Cleverer than most, but willing to help. Not afraid of danger, but of failure—so very ambitious… Best be RAVENCLAW!"

I stood up then, I suppose, but hardly remember anything of the walk to the table where I sat on the bench beside Colin. He high-fived me. "Longest yet! What did you say?"

"Nothing." I replied quietly. "He just talked."

"Really? We had a conversation."

"Sh!" A slightly overweight boy said sharply.

"Who's being sorted?" I asked the girl beside me, Martha Jones. "I can't see—too short."

"Gwaine Moon is a Gryffindor, and Sebastian Moran is still—"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Slytherin," She completed.

"Moriarty, James."

A pale boy made his way to the chair, and the hat hadn't even touched his head when it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" for him as well.

Next was an auburn girl named Donna Noble, and after a moment she was made a Gryffindor.

"Pendragon, Arthur" was the blonde boy, apparently the headmaster's son, and he was a Gryffindor too. In fact, the next girl—the ginger Scot from the train, Amelia Pond—was a Gryffindor too.

Oddly enough, the next four people were Hufflepuffs: Kitty Riley, Mickey Smith, Guinevere Thompson, and Rose Tyler.

"Watson, John!"

This was the short blonde boy.

"That's the bloke who was with—oh, what was his name—Sherlock! Sherlock Holmes." I whispered to Colin.

The overweight Ravenclaw who'd shushed me looked up at the blonde with a sudden interest. "He was with Sherlock?" He asked me.

"Yeah, they sat together, Sherlock was figuring stuff out about him based on his trunk." Then something clicked. "Oh! You're the reason he didn't want to be in Ravenclaw! Are you family?"

"He's my brother. My name is Mycroft Holmes."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Williams, Rory." Professor Song continued, pausing to smile at this boy.

"RAVENCLAW!"

We all clapped for him as he made his way over to our table. He sat down beside me. "Hi." Rory whispered, looking over at the Scottish girl from the train, who was already laughing with another Gryffindor girl.

"I'm Theo, this is Colin. My best friend's in Hufflepuff—is Amelia a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," He said. "I knew she'd be in a different House. I thought for sure I'd be a Hufflepuff, but I always knew she'd be a Gryffindor."

"Winchester, Sam."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Professor Song rolled up the parchment and returned to the staff table.

Sam sat between Molly and Mycroft, introducing himself quickly before falling silent for the headmaster.