Me: Hey, me again. Chapter two here! Yay! Sorting time! Whoo!

Rebbie: Yeah… whoo…

Me: Oh shut up and go die in a hole.

Rebbie: I can't do that. Then you'd be lonely.

Me: …. It's so true…

Rebbie: Yep! Onwards!

Max's POV

"Max, are we all going to be in the same house?"

"I don't know Nudge."

"Max, do you think they'll accept us?"

"I don't know Nudge."

"Max, do you think the teachers are nice?"

"I. Don't. Know. Nudge."

"Max, do you think we're safe here?"

"For the last time, I don't know!"

For the last hour, Nudge had been asking me every question that popped into her head, terrified of what was going to happen when we walked through the dining hall doors to be sorted. I wanted to reassure her, but I had no answers for any of her questions. This was truly something we would just have to wait and see to find out. I knew as much as she did, and while I was doing my best to remain calm and patient, I was anxious and scared. What if we all got separated into different houses? What if the kids were mean to Nudge or Iggy? Fang and I could handle ourselves, but Nudge was sensitive and Iggy was blind. What if we were too far behind in our studies? There were so many things that could go wrong the second we stepped through those huge doors, and I was torn between wanting it to be over and never wanting it to happen.

It seemed like forever before a tall, stern looking woman came through the doors and gave us all a look over. She wore emerald robes and had square little glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, with her hair up in a tight bun. She was staring us down with piercing eyes, but she didn't seem disapproving. In fact, thanks to Fang's naturally stoic demeanor, she seemed almost intrigued.

"I'm Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house. If you are ready, I will take you to be sorted now. Please line up in order of youngest to oldest." Even her voice sounded stern.

Nudge, shaking, stood in front of Professor McGonagall, and for once uttered not a word. Fang led Iggy to behind her, and then stood behind him, with myself behind Fang. Angel and Gazzy stood on either side of me, holding my hands.

When she deemed us ready, the professor led us through the big doors and into a hall, where more people than I had ever seen in my entire life were sitting. Were we getting sorted in front of all of them? Oh my god…

Professor McGonagall led us to the front of the room where a stool was sitting on a platform, the dusty hat from Dumbledore's office on top of it.

Max, I think the hat sorts you.

Ange, you can't be serious. That has to be a violation of at least ten health codes.

I don't know, Max… I think… I think I can hear it.

I was both totally grossed out, and amazed. A live hat. This was truly magic.

At the head of the room sat what I assumed to be the teachers, for in the middle at the largest chair was Dumbledore himself. When we reached the platform, he stood, calling attention to himself.

"As I am sure you have noticed, we are receiving new students today. Three of them, Ms. Maximum Ride, Mr. Fang Ride, and Mr. Iggy Ride, will all be fourth years here. Ms. Nudge Ride will be a second year. I ask you to show them respect and compassion as they adjust. The two younger ones will be staying within the school for shelter purposes, and therefore require just as much care and respect as your new classmates. Their stories are their own, and I will not tolerate any rude behavior towards them. Now let us discover which houses will be welcoming our students." He told the dining hall, who's attention was captured. As soon as he was done speaking, and sat down again however, there were miniscule whisperings that could be heard.

"Nudge Ride." Professor McGonagall called, and Nudge gave me a worried glance. I urged her forward, and she took a few hesitant steps before sitting down on the stool. The hat was barely on her head before it shouted "Gryffindor!"

The second table in on the left cheered as Nudge jumped up and ran to it, sitting down beside a friendly looking girl and a red-headed boy. Professor McGonagall called Iggy, and Fang told him how many steps to go and where to sit, and he found it without too much of a problem. It went down nearly the same as Nudge, who jumped up to direct him to a seat.

When Fang stepped up, I couldn't help it. I immediately though he was going to get separated to a different house. Slytherin just seemed like it fit him so much better. You could tell everyone in the hall was thinking it too, and the thought made my heart race. I couldn't lose a member of my Flock, and especially not Fang, to another house!

So when the hat shouted Gryffindor, I almost didn't believe it. But when Nudge jumped up and hugged him, I let out a sigh of relief. Now it was just me, and at the rate we were going, I was sure the hat would choose Gryffindor for me too.

So, confidently, or at least in appearance, I strode to the stool and took a seat. The hat was placed on my head, and a voice started talking in my ear.

"You're an interesting one. Yes, brave, and very chivalrous. You are loyal, and true, and there is much intelligence inside you. I can tell you have much nerve, and sarcasm. Gryffindor would be wonderful to a witch like you. Yet, I wonder about your other traits. Cunning, and fearsome. You have great abilities. You are powerful. And you have great blood. You would sacrifice yourself, but you also protect yourself at any cost. You would marvel, grow, and blossom in Slytherin. So where shall I put you?"

I wanted to go to Gryffindor so badly, but a little voice in the back of my head was preventing my whole heart from devoting itself to Gryffindor.

"Yes, even you are conflicted. How shall we solve this? I know! But I must speak with Dumbledore. This has never been done."

The hat was removed from my head and given to Dumbledore, who listened to the hat intently. I just sat there awkwardly on the stool while everybody stared at me.

Max, is there a problem?

No idea, Ange, no idea.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up and called a Harry Potter and a Draco Malfoy to the platform.

An annoyed looking boy with slicked, extremely white hair arrived first, despite his table being farther away. Following him was a boy with black hair and glasses, who gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Yes. Well it seems we have something out of the ordinary. The sorting hat has reached a dilemma." Pause for dramatic effect. The whole cafeteria erupted in whispers. Well done. "It does not know which house to sort Ms. Ride into. It seems she is equally suitable for both Gryffindor, and Slytherin, a case so odd that the hat and I have come to an agreement. Ms. Ride will spend two weeks in either house, guided by both Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, and then the hat will sort her again, based on which house she seems more suited for from her experiences. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I believe this is alright with the both of you?" The boy with the glasses nodded, and it shifted his hair to reveal a lightening shaped scar. Weird. The white haired boy was glaring at me.

"Very well. She will start in Gryffindor. Mr. Potter, I place her in your hands." Dumbledore sat back down and I hopped off the stool and walked up to the two boys.

"Hey. I'm Max."

Glasses boy stuck out his hand, which I took. "Harry. It's good to know I'm not the only one the hat has had difficulty with." I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Turning to who I assumed to be Draco, I said hi again. "The name's Draco Malfoy. And just so you know, don't think we're going to be pals. If the hat considered you for Gryffindor, you are already an enemy."

I glared at him and prepared a whole line of insults, but Harry guided me to the Gryffindor table. "Ignore him. I do."

The red-headed boy beside Nudge sniggered. "Yeah right Harry. You toss just as many charms his way as he does ours."

I sat down beside Fang and glanced around the table. There was an odd assortment of people here, ranging from about eleven years old to about seventeen. They all wore the same robe, but you could just tell each of them came from very different backgrounds.

"So, what brings you to Hogwarts." The red head asked. The girl beside him glared.

"Ron! Dumbledore said not to ask them that."

"Oh come on, Hermione. You know you're just as curious as I am." Ron retorted, then turned back to us. "So, what's your story?"

I glanced at the Flock, then back at the three pairs of eyes that were eagerly staring at us, although Hermione had hit Ron over the head. Should we tell them, at least something? I mean, we had to have at least some story to go by on why we were here. Come to think of it, they were in that class that we barged in on, so they at least knew of us being in the forest. But how much was too much?

"Well, we were adopted, all of us. Then our adopted parents died in a fire that destroyed our house, so we just sort of took to the streets. The police began questioning, and we wanted to stay together, so we ran. We ended up in the forest, where I encountered the barrier, and here we are." I explained shortly, shrugging. It was convincing, semi-true, and vague. The best sort of lie there is.

Hermione continued to stare at me, and I could tell she was only half-convinced. Ron and Harry, however, gave me sympathetic smiles.

"Welcome to the club. Everyone here has a pity story of some sort." Ron told us, though he said it a bit cheerfully.

"Then what's yours?" Fang asked quietly, and I agreed with his unspoken statement. There wasn't anything they could say that could possibly make our situation look less pitiful.

"Well, being new and all, I s'ppose you wouldn't know." Leaning in, Ron began to whisper. Hermione rolled her eyes. "A few years back, there was a dark lord. Did a whole lot a killing and dark arts and really powerful stuff. There wasn't a witch or wizard that survived him. However, he went to try and kill Harry over here, and it backfired. Little baby Harry walked away with a scar, and you-know-who ran off. Most think he's dead, and some don't. Nobody knows what happened. Harry here's famous for it."

"Thanks for that Ron, really." Harry muttered sarcastically.

Well, I do admit, that just about tied with our predicament.

"Impressive!" Gazzy cheered. Harry smiled a small smile, looking a bit modest. I understood completely.

"What about you, Ron?" Angel piped up from beside me. Ron began stuttering and the tips of his ears turned pink. Ah, so he embarrasses easily. I tucked that away for future reference.

"Ron's the youngest of six brothers, with a younger sister as well. Hand me downs galore. Malfoy has quite a fun time with the Weasley bunch. It's mostly because Ron's dad works for the Ministry of Magic, and sometimes his father encounters Malfoy's father." Hermione informed us.

"We're used to hand me downs. I mean, there are six of us. Orphans and all, you get used to what you have… Wait, you mean there's a Ministry of Magic? Like, wait, is there a whole world for just wizards? I'm so confused! Is there like a president… well I guess it would be a Minister, huh, since it's a ministry… that runs you guys? That's awesome! Does the guy in charge of like, England or what not know? Does he run all of wizardry or just London and such? Oh my god this is so cool! It's like another dimension! I feel like I'm living inside a video game, or a book!" Nudge blabbered, and our three new friends stared wide eyed at her.

"Er, I don't think I quite followed that." Harry said hesitantly.

"Don't worry; we don't most of the time either." Iggy informed him.

"So Hermione, what's your pity story?" Gazzy asked.

"I'm muggle-born." Hermione said proudly, though I could faintly hear disgust in her voice.

"Muggle?" Fang questioned.

"Weren't you guys told anything? A muggle is a non-magic person. I was born of two non-magic people, so therefore I'm muggle-born." Hermione explained.

I nodded, like it all made sense, which it totally didn't. "And that's a problem because…"

"Because muggle-borns are looked down upon as not being real witches or wizards, since they don't come of pure lineage. Slytherins particularly like to pick on them, calling them foul names like mudblood, since nearly all Slytherins are pure blood." Harry finished explaining.

"Ahh I get it now. So are you both pure blood?" I asked.

"I am. But I'm often called a blood-traitor since I associate with people like Hermione." Ron said.

"I'm not. My mother was muggle-born. I'm a half-blood." Harry told us.

I began rubbing my temple. This was a ton of information. Did they just like, know this when they were born? I'd feel extremely overwhelmed if I was born having to walk two worlds. Though I supposed they spend most of their time in the wizard world, since that's probably where they feel more comfortable. I mean, mean magic is kind of frowned upon in normal society…

Though, all this new information had me wondering. What sort of witch was I? Was Jeb a wizard? What about Mom? Or was I muggle-born? If you can really consider us… born. Why would we not have magic until now? And people kept telling me I was powerful, but was I really?

And more importantly, were we safe here? Were these witches and wizards trust worthy, especially those Slytherins? My trust was rapidly decreasing in that Malfoy character. And what about our wings? We couldn't keep them hidden for long. What would their reactions be?

I could only hold my breath, cross my fingers, and hope for the best right now. We had food, shelter, and protection. What more could I ask for?

Me: Chapter two done! I know it was kind of boring, but hey, they needed to get to know each other. It'll get more fun from here on out.

Rebbie: Sure it will.

Me: Reviews!