In My Own Little World
Disclaimer: I own not of Misa nor the world I've decided to write of.
NOTE: Thoughts of all characters will be referred to as thoughts, but will also appear as normal parts of the story without any kind of speaker tag. The sorting hat's thoughts will appear like dialog. To Misa, thoughts are a way of talking, but I won't have thoughts in dialog, as that would make things very confusing. She's [somewhat] aware that humans can't hear her mind.
Misa stared at the fire, watching it intently. She always remembered it to be warm, yet it looked so cold. It danced around, as though trying to warm itself, shrieking whenever it landed on a cold spot.
The fussy wizards argued right outside the room, so Misa entertained herself by watching the fire. However, it bored her soon enough, and she shifted her attention to the wizards. Instead of listening to the lies she heard through the door, she shifted through their emotions and thoughts.
What are we going to do with her? She's much too young to attend Hogwarts! They almost immediately dismissed Dumbledore's idea that she be in seventh year, on account of her appearing to be so young. Some wanted to send her home, but Dumbledore was very insistent that she stay.
They also thought of a hat. A hat that would refuse to sort her, apparently. She knew nothing about any hat or how she would be sorted. Instantly, more than a few minds jumped to other instances of early sortings, with only one instance having been sorted before the hat sang.
Lost in one memory, Misa found herself snapping back to the rest of the minds at the revelation of a new idea. She would be tested on first through seventh year knowledge, and depending on how she did, they would place her in the appropriate year. Dumbledore seemed to be the one who thought of it, though she couldn't be sure, as his mind stayed closed off to her.
The door opened, and Dumbledore swept in, trailed by four other wizards. Two smiled, one sneered, and the last was undecided.
Dumbledore spoke for them, "Hello again. I've discussed things with my colleagues, and we've come to a conclusion. But first, I believe introductions are in order."
A particularly short man stepped forward. "Hello, I am-"
"Filius Flitwick," Misa said, standing. She bowed once before turning her attention to the rest, leaving Flitwick spluttering some sort of query or argument.
"Pomona Sprout, Minerva McGonagall." Misa bowed to each as she said their names, ignoring the mental shocks of surprise. She frowned at the dour professor, but brightened as she collected the last name from Flitwick. "Severus Snape." Said professor's mood perked at this, and so did hers, even though his mind refused to reveal the reason.
"My name is Misa Amane. Pleased to meet you!"
Misa flashed a smile, then turned to Dumbledore. "I'll take the test now, if that helps."
Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled. She suspected he found her amusing, having shaken off the shock of the first time.
"We haven't got a specialized test ready for you, so we'll have to use the OWL test we're planning on using this year."
Dumbledore waved his wand, and a thick scroll appeared in his hands. He handed it to Misa, who seemed to have no problem holding it. She set it on Dumbledore's desk, careful not to shake the wood, eyeing a bundle of colorful quills perched precariously on a corner.
Dumbledore turned, the edge of his robe like gentle waves reaching for the door. The rest of the professors scurried along behind him soon after.
Misa listened to the thoughts and emotions of the professors until they were too far away to be a bother. She turned her attention to the scroll in front of her and looked over the first few questions. A smile spread over her face as she recognized all of them from an old scroll she once found in the Shrieking Shack.
She lifted a quill and dipped in the ink pot.
"That was certainly quick," Dumbledore chuckled, looking up from his soup.
Misa beamed at Dumbledore. The test had barely lasted her two hours. If it was that easy, then the rest of the year could be spent exploring and having fun.
Disbelief exploded in Misa's head. The professors made it obvious where the thoughts came from, with their food frozen halfway to their dropped jaws.
Snape recovered first, managing to appear calm. "Impossible. She can't have finished the entire thing in two hours. She must have left over half of them blank!"
Misa pouted. "I answered all of them!"
With a wave of a wand, the scroll disappeared. With another wave of a wand, a lump of old rags appeared in front of the headmaster. "Either way, I believe Miss Amane needs to be sorted."
Instantaneously, all thoughts of the test were swept away, replaced by memories and thoughts of some sort of hat. Mental snoring emanated from the mound of rags.
Well, go on, put the hat on.
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but closed it and adopted a puzzled expression when Misa popped the hat right on her head. The teachers closed their mouths as well, yet that didn't matter to Misa. Excited thoughts filled her head, one barely touching on the fact she put the hat on before leaping to memories.
"What a bubbly personality you have! It's sad your fiance found that an annoyance."
Fiance? She had a fiance?
"Rem and Ryuk? Interesting. A model? Good for you!"
Who? Or what? Who was thinking this? It was like they were talking to another person.
"Ah, this is something I can work with. That was brave of you, to risk your identity, and possibly your life, to find this ~~~~."
This what? What did it say? It seemed like the voices she usually ignored intensified at the end of that sentence.
"Excuse me, Dumbledore-san."
Dumbledore-san? This girl is Japanese? Why is she so far from her native country? (2)
Misa ignored the other professors and asked, "Is there anyone else in this room?"
Dumbledore answered, "No, it's just us."
Misa hated having to trust anything spoken, but he would have to make do with what he told her. So where were these new thoughts coming from. She made a quick check over the thoughts now and the thoughts earlier. Dumbledore and Snape remained as silent as ever, and the rest of the professors fussed over memories of past sortings. So the thoughts had to come from the last sentient being,-
"You were very loyal to Light, even cutting your lifespan in half -twice!- for him. That was also brave of you, as you had no idea how much longer you had."
-the hat.
"You still have quite a long time yet still to live, so no need to worry. I must say, you acted quite recklessly in your reign as the Second ~~~~, almost revealing yourself several times."
However, that still left the thoughts the hat spouted. Who was it talking to?
"Not much brains in that cute head-oh, you're welcome, it is a very cute head-, so Ravenclaw is out. Slytherin, too, in case you were wondering."
Maybe it was a recording? No, no, that couldn't be it; the professors each had different experiences with the hat. Maybe after so many years it had gone senile?
"Not much motivation to work. I suppose that means Hufflepuff isn't for you. Your loyalty might have won you over, but the object of your love is gone."
She was betting on the latter.
"GRIFFINDOR!"
At this word the hat opened what seemed to be a mouth and shouted. An air of displeasure oozed from Snape, while McGonagall practically glowed with the opposite emotion.
Dumbledore smiled and stood. "Now that's out of the way, I do believe Miss Amane needs her wand. Professor McGonagall, you can take our beautiful sand(1) to Diagon Alley."
"Miss Amane, have you ever travelled by Floo before?"
(2) I'm not sure if I want to have Misa say -san in the first place. It would certainly explain why I'm calling them by their last names instead of first names, and she is Japanese. She knows enough of the culture of wizards, but to her, adding honorifics and bowing is polite and common curtesy.
(1) Beautiful sand is the English translation of Misa.
I'm still iffy on what book I want to set this story in. Anyone want to suggest a book? It has to be either the first, second, third, or fifth. Fourth, sixth, and seventh are out due to personal preference, inability to work with the story, and having not read it (respectably).