The sorting hat was placed upon Dave's head, and it sat there for quite some time, an awkward silence settling in the room.

Now, before anyone thinks we are rushing ahead, let me clear something up. The date is the fifth of September, 2005. We are somewhere in the great expanse known as the United Kingdom. And there is a boy, only eleven years old, being watched by hundreds of students, wearing shades, a calm expression, and a hat that will ultimately shape his future and what he will become. This is just an ordinary day for one of the Striders. No, really. And Dave, the younger, would certainly play it off as cool. So unspectacular he could fall asleep to the soothing lullabies that damn hat was making with its frayed edges as a fabricfied violin.

That is, if he wasn't sweating bullets.

See, Dave had high expectations for himself. Bro was in Slytherin, and while bets had been made on the other houses by all of his friends and even Bro himself, Dave had so desperately wanted to get into Slytherin. He felt like he would be the very best there, shooting down all those pureblood disgraces down with his irony and sick fires. And well, Bro was already there. A tag team of Striders. A duo forged in the flames of awesome. That had to be what was going to happen. Slytherin Striders.

He had all the qualities of a great Slytherin, too! He was cunning, and sly, and witty, and fast, and-

"You're not ambitious enough."

That hat was whispering to him. Whispering to him about his future, that he was not going to make it where he needed to be. He stopped breathing, his heart ceased beating, and from behind dark shades, he looked up to the headwear, about to flip his shit and tables and sort himself right into Slytherin. He was. And there was nothing that was going to stop him.

"I'm a soft hat, Strider, you'll have to forgive me for not flipping like a hard table might."

How in the hell was this fucking pointy wizard hat reading his mind? Magic was not an answer. This was ridiculous.

"Strider, you do not have the ambition to be a Slytherin. How could I sort you there and feel you were in the right place?" The hat chuckled, and if Dave could have melted, the deed would have already been done.

"I just want to be in the same house as Bro, okay hat. So how about you shout out to the greenies over there, and I'll go sit next to him, and you can get that next kid behind me that looks like he's gonna wet himself in fucking anxiety over this sorting crap. I know where I belong."

"Ah, but I know that's not where you could be."

There was a deathly pause, and Dave did not like the lack of windbag head fashion speaking. He inhaled, ready for a war with the hat, but the sorter just chuckled.

"I can tell what sort of person you are, young Strider, and don't try thinking that I can't. How ironic would it be if the clone of Strider the Elder landed in the house deemed opposite? Would it be hilarious if I sent you to Gryffindor? You're brave enough to go there, now aren't you?

"And what if I sent you to Hufflepuff, hmm? They're loyal and patient and typically cool-headed, aren't they? Isn't that something you fancy yourself to be? A good friend and a calm individual?"

Dave was perspiring again, finding this business rather nerve-racking and not sweet in the slightest. If only he could set some sick fires to prove to this damn hat that he was worthy, that he was ready to go blazing into the Slytherin house like a fucking Molotov Cocktail with a flamethrower. He was meant to be there, he knew it. He had to be with Bro, because Bro would never forgive him if he didn't make it in to-

"Young Strider, I almost sorted your predecessor into Ravenclaw."

"What?"

Oh hell no, this hat did not just try swaying him over to be a bird. No. Not going to happen.

"You understand, Dave, that you could settle into Ravenclaw happily. That your intellect and way with words are true gifts, and that your pursuit of irony would be welcomed easily. You are a young man of different tastes, just like Bro is. You have wit and speed to match it. Do you know what it would be like to find a sparring partner amongst them? The Ravenclaws would give you more than you could imagine."

"Did Bro fall for this?"

"Obviously not, considering where he's sitting."

Dave couldn't help but snicker. Leave it to Bro to outsmart just about everyone, and everyTHING. That was the Strider way, to be the coolest coolkid you could be.

"Listen, Ravenclaw... Ravenclaw seems like a sweet place, really. But I belong over there in Snakeland. Where you're not letting me get to! I will get over there next to Bro. I..."

He faltered, his voice cracking. What if he didn't make it over there? What if he sat separately from Bro for a whole year? Sure, he wanted to be different and his own person, but that was for more ironic purposes. This was not to be split from his family, to be sorted into another house... Bro said they had all been Slytherins. All of them, Slytherins. And he was about to be goddamn squawker. No. He wasn't going to be one, and he was going to sit right next to his brother. And the hat was going to say so.

"I have to."

"You would do well in Ravenclaw, Strider. I know you would."

"But I am not going to be happy anywhere else but next to Bro. And you know that."

"Your friends are all in different houses, too. Could that not sway you?"

"Please, Egbert can stand to have a good rival. Isn't that what best friends are for? The dude can handle himself over there. I don't want either of the girls stealing my limelight either. Dave is an ironic one-man show. A show that needs to be up in Salazar's grill, okay? John's chilling with Godric, Rose with the birds, and Jade's hanging with whatever the hell a Hufflepuff is. I don't even know... Just sort me elsewhere to complete the set, okay? We're meant to be separate."

"You're not entirely convincing, Strider. You're not as selfish as you would like to believe."

"Man, I know. But... I'm not going to take no for an answer, Sorter. Now, shout out whatever house you think I'd be the bomb in, and I'll go sit there and break into the Slytherin lair later. Sound like a deal?"

Both boy and hat smirked, and there was a long silence, where everyone's eyes seemed to rest on him. This was it. This is what he'd been waiting for since Bro first went away. His whole life was about to change, and veer into a certain course, and this would be it. If he ended up in Ravenclaw, he couldn't be too mad. Rose could be, but not him. He was prepared for anything that hat said. Even. Even Hufflepuff. He was ready to go. Time to make some other kid piss themselves, hat. Let's get going so he can be placed with the birds or whatever it felt like doing and-

"SLYTHERIN!"

Dave almost took off his shades in disbelief to look at the hat. There was a roar of applause from the table to the far left, and a few hollers from a stupid dumb Gryffindor. Dave stood up, and waved to everyone, oh so coolly, and sat down next to Bro, where a seat had been made. He took it, and smirked. Everyone was patting him on the back, and Bro shook his hand.

"Yo, Dave. That was hella impressive. The hat was on your head for two seconds and then it sorted you. You must really have a Slytherin heart or something."

The younger Strider's eyes went wide with surprise, but the shades hid that from view. Two seconds? Pardon him for being frank, but that shit was not two seconds. It was more like a fucking eternity dragged out like Gone with the Wind. Two seconds? Someone had a messed up view of time, really. Or it was one of Bro's iconic ironic statements, maybe? Yeah, that was it. Dave turned away to see the next fool get sorted, smirking, but he could feel that swell of pride in him.

Bro smiled, a genuine smile, and ruffled his sibling's blond hair. "Good job, lil' man. I knew you were meant to be here."