Chapter 2-- Sorting!
Robin clenched his jaw as he moved down the steps towards the Great Hall. The robes swishing around his legs were maddeningly confining, catching on his legs with each step he took. But the alternative was worse, he admitted with a shudder. They had insisted on robes, and if he did not take the modern student's robes he could have a set from an older time-- which would, indeed, mean that his legs wouldn't be bound-- but the bizarrely wide-shouldered garment that ended in a stiff wave out just under his hips and had long tight sleeves would have made him look utterly ridiculous. Even more so than this. Wally had taken it, cheerfully, delighted as always to make a spectacle of himself, and somehow managed not to make it look entirely wrong. Robin thought maybe it was just that Wally was so totally confident that nobody could fail to like him that he could carry off just about anything.
He stalked into the Great Hall, Wally bouncing at his side like an eager puppy, and let his eyes move over the students, all between eleven and eighteen, according to the headmaster, all dressed in the same black robes, though each had a patch on his chest, marking which house they were to be a part of. The whole concept was ridiculous, though it was becoming harder and harder to refute the idea that this was, somehow, reality. It was lasting too long to be a dream, and the details were too consistent to be somehow made up. He was actually in a school in Britain that taught magic. Unable to go home because some evil wizard was at war with them and international travel was curtailed. And being told that neither he nor Wally had enough magic that they would have received letters to attend a magical school themselves, they did both have a thread of talent and could -- and would -- therefore join the students until something more could be worked out.
So he was to be a student in a subject he had been told straight off he would never excel at -- would likely never be able to become ever competent at -- in uncomfortable, bizarre-looking clothing, in a culture that should not, in a logical world, actually exist, with the single member of his team most likely to aggravate him to an early grave. Robin was not happy. The stares of several hundred robed magic students did nothing to improve his mood. Although most of them were actually staring at Wally-- and, more specifically, his legs. He rolled his eyes as he saw one boy lick his lips and Wally wink at him, loving the attention.
"Ah, you're here," the headmaster said cheerfully, rising. "Attention please, everyone!" He waited for the silence which gradually came, and said, "Excellent! As you have seen, we have a pair of students joining us for a time. Please welcome Robin Milner and Kid Gliston."
Robin gritted his teeth through the pause, his loss of the argument over the necessity of last names smarting. And those particular names seemed so obviously fake, since only the headmaster's sick sense of humor would have chosen them.
"They will be joining you as sixth years, but have not had the advantage of a magical education, so may need some assistance in getting up to speed."
Wally snickered at the word choice, and Robin shot him a stern look.
"And since they have not, of course, been sorted, this seems the ideal time to do so. Professor McGonagall, if you will?"
The tall, stern-looking lady, whom they had met last night stepped forward, set a stool down in the center of the floor, a battered hat atop it, and called out, "Robin Milner, approach."
He stepped forward, refusing to show any nervousness, and tripped on his long robes. A titter moved through the room, though he caught himself before falling, and he felt his face warm with embarrassment.
"Please sit on the stool and put on the hat, Mr. Milner."
Reluctantly he obeyed, feeling ridiculous as he perched on the stool and put the stupid hat on.
"Not so stupid, thank you," an indignant voice whispered directly into his ear. Both ears, actually, and Robin stiffened. "Now let's just have a look to see where you ought to go, shall we?"
"I ought to go home," he snapped back, keeping his tone quiet and his lips still to prevent himself from looking more a fool than he already did.
A chuckle answered him. "Feeling a mite homesick? Don't worry-- many feel the same way when they arrive."
A muscle in Robin's cheek jumped. "I am not homesick. I'm simply needed at home and don't have time for this insanity."
"Yes, well, since you're stuck here, let's see exactly where you'll be stuck, shall we?" the hat murmured, and Robin blinked as memories from his life started passing behind his eyes.
"Get out of my mind," he ordered, biting each word furiously short.
"I can't if I'm to do my job," the hat replied. "Relax, do. No harm will come to you."
Robin's nostril's flared, he clenched his jaw, closed his eyes to concentrate, and thought with as much focus and detail as he could about explosions, the light blinding, the sound deafening, the blast a sickening force against the body, the acrid smoke burning the nose and mouth. "Merlin!" the hat yelped, actually audibly, judging by the sudden silence beyond as everyone fell completely silent. "Erm, excuse me," it added, then continued at its more common whisper, tone indignant, "That was completely uncalled for!"
"I told you to get out of my mind," he whispered back smugly.
"And I told you that I have a job to do," the hat said.
"Ask me questions and I'll answer-- but stay the hell out of my mind!"
"Yes, well. I don't think questions shall be necessary. I've seen -- and experienced, I might add -- quite enough to know where you'll best fit. Gryffindor!" it shouted at the top of its nonexistent lungs, leaving Robin's ears ringing at the sudden sound.
He glared at the hat as he took it off, and it glared back, which was disconcerting in and of itself. Turning his glare to the headmaster, he waited.
Expression still vague and good-natured, blue eyes still sparkling demonically, the headmaster grinned. "Always good to keep the hat on its brim, as it were. Off to the Gryffindor table, Mr. Milner." He waved an arm towards a long table filled with people with red and gold badges, and Robin obediently went towards them and sat in an empty seat, turning to glare balefully at the hat, which Wally was now putting on.
A delighted smile immediately lit Wally's face. "Awesome!" he said aloud, apparently completely oblivious to his audience.
He laughed. "Well, that's Robin for you. No, no, I wouldn't do that. In fact-- memories? Oh cool! There's this one I've been trying to remember more clearly, could you...?" His grin widened at the apparent acquiescence. "Okay, it was maybe a year ago, summer night, me and this girl, don't remember her name but she had this amazing black hair and her legs--" He broke off. "That! Yeah, that's totally the one!" He paused. "Wow, she's even more gorgeous than I remembered. Huh? Oh-- well she was all clingy and stuff. Made me crazy, and the body just wasn't worth the aggravation. Yeah. Oh I know!"
"Excuse me," the headmaster interrupted the one-sided conversation. "I wonder if we might move on to the Sorting?"
"Oh, sorry!" Wally said. "So tell me about the houses again?" A long pause, then he said, "Well that's easy."
"Gryffindor!" the hat called out, much less loudly this time.
"Duh," Wally said cheerfully. "I mean, come on-- red and gold, anyone?" He crossed his red-clad legs, kicking one bright yellow boot lightly, and made no sign of leaving the stool. "Ooh! I have another one. Okay, this one was blonde, with the most amazing body--"
McGonagall turned a shocked gaze to the headmaster, who cleared his throat. "Mr. Gliston, I'm very much afraid you'll have to return the hat to Professor McGonagall now."
He sighed. "Yeah okay. Oh. My. God. That's her. Isn't she-- Yeah, I mean those t--"
He blinked as the hat was snatched off his head and turned his innocent gaze to the deputy headmistress.
"That is quite enough Mr. Gliston," she said tartly.
He shrugged and rose from the stool. "Fine, fine. We can finish later, huh, Hat?"
"Looking forward to it," the hat called back cheerfully as it was borne away under McGonagall's arm. Wally grinned and moved to the Gryffindor table, dropping into the seat next to Robin and grinning around at everyone. "Hey, guys! So, yeah, You can call me Kid Flash if you want. Or Flash. Or Kid. Gliston-- not so much. And I'm betting Robin, where, hasn't introduced himself yet."
Robin shot him a glare.
"What did you do to the hat?" a girl across the table was the first to break the silence, her face framed by bushy brown hair and her eyes intent.
Robin shrugged.
"I've never heard of it calling out like that before, and I think I would have. It's never been mentioned in Hogwarts--"
"A History," the two boys flanking her chimed in, rolling their eyes. "Give it a rest, Hermione," one of them, a lanky redhead, finished. "I'm Ron Weasley," he added. "These here are my mates, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."
Robin nodded a terse greeting, and Wally took over the conversation, demanding to know everything about the school, magic, them, the house, the point system, the hat, the professors-- everything, actually.