The Sorting Rag

Disclaimer: I don't own this, because if I did, Harry wouldn't wind up with Ginny. Any reviewers who flame must make Apollo a sandwich.

AN/ This chapter is dedicated to MandaPanda33, in sympathy of having to take a road test in a rental car. Good luck on it.

"Wow," Roxy breathed, looking around as we stepped into the entrance hall.

"This is awesome," Apollo said, as Azure agreed.

"Holy shit, this is only the entrance hall, can you imagine what the rest of the school is like?" I asked them

"If you will kindly refrain from such coarse language, Miss Wells, that will be appreciated," McGonagall, who was leading us through the castle, told me, as I smiled sheepishly.

"So, what happens to us?" Azure asked the strict transfiguration teacher.

"You four will wait outside to hall until you are called, and then you will come in to be sorted. And no, I shall not tell you how that is to be, you have to wait just like everyone else," McGonagall told us, forestalling our question. After over a month of teaching us, we got to know each other really well.

Later…

"I am bored!" Apollo said as we lounged in front of the giant oak doors that lead to the Great Hall.

"Yeah, this is boring," I said, just before I heard something from beyond the thick doors.

"And allow me to introduce our newest students that will be joining our fifth year!"

"Guess that's our cue," Roxy chirped up, excited, and just a bit nervous.

In we went, to have hundreds of people staring at us. There were four tables, and one that was raised at the front. We could see an old man with a long, flowing silver beard standing with his arms outstretched, welcoming us. We saw a teacher with greasy black hair, a long nose, and black eyes glaring at us, and McGonagall standing beside a stool with what appeared to be a dirty rag on it. The old man, Dumbledore, then said "Welcome, you will now be sorted by the sorting hat into which house you truly belong. Professor McGonagall, if you could?"

"Come up when your name is called. Broek, Azure!"

Azure went up to the stool, as I whispered to Apollo "It's a freaking rag. We're being sorted into our houses by a rag!"

Apollo didn't seem to hear me as the rag called "Slytherin!"

The table with students with green on their uniforms politely clapped. Even though we agreed to see for ourselves before judging, I just hope Azure's careful.

"Irwin, Roxanne!"

Roxy walked up to the rag and put it on. Mere seconds passed before it yelled "Ravenclaw!"

"Knight, Apollo!"

"Good luck, buddy," I say to him as he bounces past, some people snickering or laughing at his enthusiasm.

"Hufflepuff!" the rag shouted. Then it was my turn.

"Wells, Christina!"

I slowly walked towards McGonagall, wondering where I would go.

As I put on the rag that I refused to acknowledge as a hat, I heard a voice inside my head. Hmm, I feel insulted, rag indeed.

WTF, I went insane just by putting on a rag!

Interesting, you have an innate ability to communicate to spirits, but I suppose you already know that, novice necromancer.

Great, I'm insane, the voice knows that I'm a novice necromancer, and I have a freaking dirty rag on my head, just great.

You are aware that I am that dirty rag, aren't you?

Nice, ruin the first panic attack I've had since I was six, thanks for ruining the novelty. Just for that, I will continue to call you a dirty rag.

There is no way to reason with you, is there?

Nope I thought, mentally popping the 'p'. I then started to think of the song 'I've got a Lovely Bunch of coconuts'

Please, stop.

Nope. Just sort me, and be glad it's not some horror like 'Barbie World'. Gah, now I'm mentally scared just by thinking the name.

Okay, then, I think I know what house to sort you into.

Good.

"Gryffindor!" the rag finally called, and I tore it off my head, and practically sprinted to the red and gold table that were cheering their heads off.

"Yes, one of you made it!" Ron was saying, as I gave him a half-hearted glare. I didn't like how he seemed to think my friends were inferior, but I was relieved to be out of the spotlight.

"So, did the sorting hat try to put you in Slytherin or something? What took so long?" Hermione asked, as I noticed Harry, who was opposite me, suddenly look a bit shifty.

"Nah, it was just offended that I kept calling it a rag," I told them, and I heard and saw a pair of red-headed twins choke on their food. Wait, food appeared out of nowhere? I really need to start paying attention to these things.

"You kept calling it a rag? Fred, why didn't we think of that?" one of them asked the other.

"I also started singing 'I've got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts' from Monty Python in my head," I informed them, as Hermione and a few other people started cracking up.

"Let me guess, a muggle thing?" Ron asked Harry, who was sniggering.

"Yeah, Monty Python is a muggle comedian, you could say."

"His movies are epically hilarious. I wish we had electricity so I could show you guys one or more of his movies, or play just any muggle music," I finished wistfully, thinking of my useless iPod.

"Maybe, dear brother of mine, we could make the new girl's dream come true," one of the twins said.

"If you guys can make a laptop work in Hogwarts, I swear I will use any powers at my disposal at your service," I tell them.

"Oi, George, I don't think we introduced ourselves. My name is Fred, and this is George."

"I thought I was Fred."

"No, I'm Fred, you're George."

"Not again," Hermione sighed.

"What?" I asked.

"They always try to annoy people by making sure no one knows which one of them is which," was the sniffy reply.

"I think they're funny," I told her. "So, are they related to Ron?"

"Yeah, they're Ron's older brothers," Harry told me.

"Uh, this may sound stupid, but Ron and Ginny are siblings, right?" I asked, as Harry and Hermione nodded, Ron seeming to be too engaged in eating to notice.

"So, where're you from?" A sandy-haired boy asked me, as I saw Harry, Hermione and Ron lean in to hear.

"Canada. I originally come from Calgary, but I stayed in Winnipeg a long time as well."

"Is it true that Canadians are obsessed over hockey?" a smaller boy asked me.

"I'm not sure about magic, but most people are hockey fans. It's like what Quidditch is to you guys."

"Really? It's that popular?" Hermione seemed interested.

"Well, yes, it is. It is one of the national sports," I informed them.

"What's the other one?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

"It's called lacrosse. It's a sport where you use sticks that have a net on one end. You have to get the ball, about the size of, say, an apple, and get it into the other teams net. You can throw the ball by launching it with your stick, or run down the field with it. Like hockey, however, hitting is for the most part allowed."

"Wow, anyone else notice that Canadians like violence?" joked a black boy down the table.

"Hey, we can't help it if none of you Brits ever really decide to deck it out," I laughed at the expressions on their faces. "I'm joking, I noticed that too."

"Do you like to play any sports?" Harry asked me.

"Not really. I've played in gym class in school, but never seriously," I told them.

"Do you like to do anything besides controlling zombies?" Hermione asked, cocking an eyebrow, as everyone around us shut up to listen.

"Well, I can play an instrument, I like to read fantasy, and I love listening to music. I estimate about…two days before depression from lack of iPod sets in."

"What's an iPod?" Ron asked.

Harry spared me from answering, "It's a music player. You can get songs and play them. By the way, what model?"

"It's a 3rd generation Nano. I put it in my trunk, since I can't use it here," I started pouting, not noticing the look that Harry gave to Hermione, or her nodding.

At that point in time, the dinner disappeared, and I swear I heard Apollo whine over at the next table before desserts appeared.

"Holy shit!" I said, having failed to notice that dinner had arrived the same way. The people who were with us in the compartment just smiled, remembering the post incident at the station, except Hermione, who frowned at my choice of words. I just stuck my tongue pout at her childishly before digging in.

After, Dumbledore stood up, and spread out his arms like it was his only desire to see us all there. "To our new students, welcome, and to our returning students, welcome back! Another year is ahead of us, and I wish that you'll all fill your heads with knowledge. I would like to welcome some new additions to our staff this year. This year, we have Professor Grubbly-Plank as a temporary step-in for Care of Magical Creatures until Professor Hagrid returns from his extended holidays. We also have Professor Umbridge as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, and I hope you will welcome them both. Please see your Heads of House about Quiddi"-

"Hem hem," the new defence teacher, Umbridge, had done a false cough, and stood up. She was short, so it took a while for people to realise why Dumbledore had stopped talking.

"She looks like an overgrown toad," I said, just as Harry said "That woman was at my hearing."

"Hearing? What the hell did you do, steal something? Assault and kill someone?" I asked, with just a bit of sarcasm at the end, but before he could respond, Hermione shushed us. After that, there was nothing to do but to stare off into space as the toad woman started a long speech in a creepy high voice that didn't suit her. It was only the scraping of benches that woke me from my daydreams.

"Come on, Chris, as a Prefect, I have to show the first years to the common room, and since you're new…" Hermione trailed off. In the background, I could hear Ron calling the first years midgets.

"Okay, okay," I muttered as she lead me and all the Gryffindor first years out of the Great Hall, and up a marble staircase. I basically sleepwalked until we came to a moving portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress. The only reason why I wasn't surprised by the portraits was that I had my freak-out about them in Diagon Ally.

"Password?" She asked. Hermione answered with "Caput Draconis."

"Whoa, you guys really like the red and gold, don't you?" I asked her as I looked around.

"The dormitories are upstairs, boys on the left, and girls on the right," Hermione told the new students, and lead me up to my now dorm that I would now share with the rest of the fifth years.

"Well, home sweet home, right?" I looked around the room. I have a feeling that I would soon be really sick of the colour red in a few weeks, if not days.

"Goodnight Hermione," I told my newfound friend as we got to bed.

"Goodnight, Chris," came the groggy response.