Hi! Sorting time!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed! It really makes my day when I get to see one of the notification emails for that. :)

I don't have all of the next chapter written yet, and I have some tests next week, so the next chapter may be slightly delayed. I will do my best to get it out next weekend though.

Here we go!

*0*0*0*

Guardians of Hogwarts

Book 1: The Sorting

Gamora had never thought of herself as a shy person. When in Thanos's clutches, she had done whatever was necessary to survive and to complete her mission, no matter how uncomfortable or dirty it had made her feel.

Now though, standing in the Great Hall with so many more students than she had been expecting, she suddenly felt very small.

The older years had grown quieter when the first years entered, but soon their voices picked up new whispers. Gamora, with her elfish blood, couldn't help but hear them.

"I heard that Potter's there somewhere."

"Who's the green one?"

"Is that a raccoon?"

"Where's Harry Potter? I want to see him!"

"Bloody hell, somebody's been giving that boy bulk-up potions.."

"How many muggleborns this year, do ya reckon?"

"I bet Potter's in Gryffindor…"

Gamora glanced forward towards the green-eyed boy who seemed to be pointedly ignoring the whispers. She knew what he had done, thanks to Thanos, but never had she imagined him so… quiet. She had expected someone privileged and smug, but Harry wasn't trying to stand out. On the contrary, he was ducking his head and distracting himself with Hermione's constant word flow (did that girl even have a filter?), trying to avoid the searching looks people sent at him.

The boy at her side spoke, "Bloody hell, now I feel even worse for Harry. I can already hear the rumors forming and we haven't even been here for ten minutes."

Gamora grimaced, "It will only get worse." She predicted and Peter nodded, sharing his own grimace.

She examined him out of the corner of her eye. To Gamora, trusting others was not natural, not after the decimation of her people and Thanos, but Peter had defended them all. Yes, it was only from a big-headed idiot pureblood who Gamora could've murdered in dozens of ways without any proof of it being her, but Peter had stood up for them.

He had treated Gamora and Rocket like actual people.

It wasn't enough to earn her entire trust, but Gamora was willing to give him a shot.

Gamora jolted back to reality as all of the first years came to a halt. Rocket's voice, which had been trying to explain metaphors to Drax, came to an abrupt end as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of them all. On top of the stool was a truly ancient (and filthy) pointed wizard's hat.

She knew what was coming, but that didn't stop her from jolting a bit when the hat moved, opening its brim-mouth and began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in SLytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Gamora barely suppressed a snort and she could hear Rocket's snickers behind her. Sorting Hat? More like Propaganda Hat for whatever the Hogwarts people wanted you to think about the Houses. Thanks to her upbringing, Gamora knew far more history than she had ever wanted to, and she knew that any wizard from any House could go dark. It was merely finding the breaking point.

The half-elf stilled for a moment. Did she even have a last name on that sheet of names? She had always simply gone by Gamora, though sometimes last names were drawn from the names of the parents…

Her body went cold. Please do not have me recorded as Thanos's daughter…!

Gamora could barely breathe through her panic and a dark voice in her conscious, sounding like Thanos, sneered at her weakness. 'Panic attacks, weak. I believed I raised you better, daughter.'

Gamora grit her teeth and fought back the panic. She nearly broke Peter's arm when he touched her arm gently, a worried look in her eyes. "You alright?"

"Fine." She hissed through her teeth, her eyes fixed on McGonagall. "Finnegan, Seamus," was the next to earn a House, this time in Gryffindor. Gamora hadn't been keeping track, but now the girl wished she had been.

Then, the impossible happened.

"Galonlithe, Gamora!"

Her heart had frozen in her chest. That name… It was an old, elfish name, one she hadn't heard in use since her very early childhood.

Rocket shoved her from behind and Gamora jerked, quickly walking forward to the Hat. She sat, and the hat quickly dropped over her eyes.

Sitting in the dark of the hat, Gamora felt like an idiot. She could hear some vague humming, but nothing distinct.

'Hello?'

She could almost feel the Hat snap back to her, and resisted a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sorry, young elf. It's been a long time since I've seen a mind as complicated as yours."

'Complicated?'

"Hmm, yes. Elfish minds tend to be difficult to decipher. You are rather cunning and intelligent, and undoubtedly brave. However, when I look deeper, I can feel your great sense of compassion and… I have a feeling that when you give your trust to something, your loyalty will not easily be broken…. Do you have a preference, child? You could go many ways."

Gamora felt stunned that the Hat was asking her. She had never put thought into what House she'd be in. She had simply assumed that she'd go to Slytherin, where the other dark witches and wizards in the making went. But now that she had a choice, she realized that she didn't want to be among peers who would constantly try to return her to Thanos. She wanted somewhere to belong.

"So that's your choice, eh? Though I think you'll find your place in a certain group, I definitely know where to put you. It better be-" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Gamora felt her jaw drop a bit. Hufflepuff? She had never dreamt of Hufflepuff as her House (though, granted, she had never really dreamed of attending Hogwarts in the first place…).

As she removed the Hat and looked towards the table with the yellow students, she was surprised to see the brilliant smiles on their faces as they applauded her.

Gamora gave a small, hopeful smile.

Maybe the Hat wasn't full of crap. Maybe.

*0*0*0*

Hermione couldn't stop bouncing on her toes. She knew it was immature and stupid, but she was so excited. And terrified.

She could belong here! She could have friends and people might actually like her…!

Well, at least it couldn't be any worse than her last couple years at the muggle elementary school, right?

And she might even have found someone who read as much as she did! The raccoon-boy (how exactly did he become a raccoon in the first place? Was it a 'pureblood' thing? If so, she was so glad she was a muggleborn!), Rocket, had actually debated with her without insulting her! Hermione couldn't help the joy that filled her heart at that.

Peter had bantered with her, Harry had listened to her, Neville had smiled at her, and Rocket had debated with her.

And not a single one had insulted her or her intelligence.

She might have a chance to have real friends.

Hermione was terrified that they would turn out like everyone in elementary school, but she had steeled herself and was going to try anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Hermione watched the green-elf-girl go up to the Hat. She sat up there for a long few minutes, before the Hat yelled out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The muggle-born witch watched Gamora go down towards the cheering table as her own name was called. "Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione charged up to the stool, excitement and terror warring within her and resulting in a great deal of impatience to be sorted. She placed the Hat on her head forcefully and resisted a jump as an amused voice whispered through her mind, "Excited, child? It's been a while since I've seen a mind as bright as yours. Hmm, yes, you have the mind of an Eagle, but a Lion's heart. Which would you prefer dear? In Ravenclaw, you would be happy and have the opportunity to retreat from conflict, but in Gryffindor, you would truly make a difference in a harsh future, standing strong with your true friends and allies."

Hermione resisted the urge to chew her lip in suspense at the choice, but she knew her answer. 'I wish to choose the path with true friends. I am not afraid to stand up for what's right.'

The Hat's voice almost sounded proud, "I know. Therefore, you shall be in-" "-GRYFFINDOR!"

A giant grin split Hermione's face as she took off the Hat and moved towards the cheering table. She glanced back at the others and saw that the red-haired boy looked disgruntled, but Peter was clapping and Rocket was giving her double thumbs up. A look at the Hufflepuff table showed her Gamora clapping politely and smiling at her.

Hermione felt warm. Even if she didn't have them in her House, she felt in her bones that they wouldn't abandon her. She had friends now. Maybe even those 'true friends' the Hat was talking about…

*0*0*0*

Harry felt queasy. Two of his new friends had been Sorted already, but it hadn't settled his nerves. What if he didn't fit into any House? Would the Hat just tell them to send him back? He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys!

Peter must've seen Harry's stiff posture, as the blonde boy gently shoulder bumped Harry and whispered, "Relax, we'll be fine. Really. Even if we're in different Houses, I'm not going to ditch you, and whatever Houses have us will be glad to have us."

Harry mustered up a smile, though he felt it probably looked more like a grimace. He was pretty sure he couldn't do this; the Hat was going to proclaim that to the entire Hall and he was going to be sent from Hogwarts in shame…

Peter nudged him harder. "Relax." The boy ordered.

Harry tried to squash his nerves as Peter suggested and focused on the Sortings.

He watched Neville race to Gryffindor, almost taking the hat with him, and saw Draco Malfoy stalk towards the stool with the hat, a smug grin on his face.

Seconds later, the pale boy was sorted into Slytherin, and he strut down to the cheering table.

There couldn't be many more until it was Harry's turn now… There was a lump in his throat, preventing him from speaking or tearing his thoughts away from their nervous chatter.

Moon, Nott, Parkinson, Patil, another Patil… There couldn't be many more-

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry felt his stomach lurch as he finally, finally, heard his name. With a shove from Peter, he stumbled forward, unable to avoid the whispers that had started up around him.

"The Harry Potter?"

"She really said Potter?"

It was almost a relief to let the Hat slide down over his eyes and block out the rest of the Hall, most who were craning to try to get a glimpse of him (or, rather, his scar, he was willing to bet).

Harry nearly jumped as a new whisper curled its way into his head. "Hmm… Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. Lots of talent and a nice thirst to prove yourself and to protect your new friends… But where to put you?"

Harry grimaced. He thought about the different Houses, the qualities Peter had described. He didn't really think he fit any of them, but if there was one he would rather avoid…

'Um… can you hear me?'

He 'heard' the Hat chuckle. "Of course. I'm in your head, you know."

'Could you not put me in Slytherin? I'd rather not deal with Malfoy all the time…'

The Hat chuckled again. "I can almost see where you're coming from. Don't mention it to others, but his mind is vile and rank with prejudice. But Slytherin isn't all like that, and it could help you become great, you know."

'I'd rather not have to watch for him stabbing me in the back at every step, thanks.'

Harry felt the Hat give its consent and then hum to itself. "In that case, I think I know where I should put you. It better be-" "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Hall erupted into cheers as Professor McGonagall removed the Hat and Harry smiled, quickly walking down towards the celebrating table. Hermione was nearly bouncing with joy, and Harry slid into the seat across from her with a grin.

Looking at his new House, Harry could almost believe that he belonged here. And after he caught a glimpse of Peter shooting him thumbs up, Drax clapping enthusiastically, and Ron jumping up and down, Harry decided that while Gryffindor House might become his new family, he wasn't going to give up his new friends, even if they were in different Houses.

*0*0*0*

Peter wasn't actually paying all that much attention to the Sorting. Oh, he was paying close attention to where his new friends went (Harry being a Gryffindor he had called, but Gamora a Hufflepuff? He was surprised at that one), but for the rest he sort of tuning them out.

The Hat's Sorting song was a lot more interesting to contemplate.

Peter abruptly returned to awareness when, just after Harry, Professor McGonagall read, "Quill, Peter!"

For a second, Peter's feet were trapped on the ground, his breath caught in his throat, but then he lurched forward and the world blurred out around him.

He could imagine his mother sitting here, waiting for the Hat, and it filled him with pride to be following in her footsteps.

The Hat slid down around his head, dropping him into blackness.

"Hmm. Hello there, you do have an active mind, don't you? Recording and storing all the information you can, just in case you can use it later… But a loyal heart and a brave soul as well. Hmmm…"

Peter grinned brightly. 'Aww, thanks, you're too kind. By the way, I loved the Sorting Song!'

He felt the Hat twitch in surprise. "Why, thank you. You are one of the first Hogwarts students to actually complement the Song that I spend an entire year composing."

'It was very catchy and very cleverly worded. Putting in warnings and predictions, while rhyming too! Though, I still prefer Muggle music.'

The Hat hummed in agreement. "There is something about Muggle music that just escalates it pasts Magical music… Maybe it's how it is all created by the Muggle's own hands? No wand or magic added, just pure from the musician.."

Peter grinned and nodded fiercely. 'Yeah, and the Muggles are more creative about adding in different instruments and using those same instruments to make completely different sounds! Have you heard "Escape"? The Pina Colada Song?'

The Hat sent an affirmation, and with a silent agreement, both Peter and the Hat verbally burst into song.

"IF YOU LIKE PINA COLADAS, AND GETTING CAUGHT IN THE RAIN. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO YOGA, IF YOU HAVE HALF-A-BRAIN…"

After a rousing rendition of the chorus, Peter tilted the Hat up, and gazed out at the silent, speechless Hall. Nearly the entire Hall of students and teachers had their jaws dropped, staring at him and the Hat, though Peter could see Harry barely containing a laugh and Hermione was very red in the face. Gamora was hiding her face in her hands, while Rocket was just cracking up, roaring with laughter, next to a very confused looking Drax.

Peter let the Hat drop back down over his face and cheekily thought, 'I think we forgot about something…'

"Oh, yes, the Sorting! …You distracted me on purpose, didn't you?"

'Who, little old me? Course not. I was just applauding your excellent singing skills…'

The Hat chuckled, "I know EXACTLY where you should go. Hopefully you can teach them how to follow the old way, not this rubbish, purity nonsense they're following now. It must be-" "SLYTHERIN!"

Peter felt McGonagall remove the Hat and he turned to give it a big smile before he strolled towards the green-and-silver table. Malfoy was staring at him open mouthed in horror and shock. Almost immediately after, his face twisted into a cold, ugly expression of fury.

"Careful, your face'll freeze like that." Peter said mildly, grinning at his fellow first years. He waved to Harry, who waved back. He glanced at his friends, and they all were cheering for him happily (though Rocket was still wiping tears of laughter from his eyes), except for Ron, who was red faced and… angry?

'Ooh, yeah. Slytherins are supposed to be evil in his book…' Peter gave a shrug and turned to a few of the more palatable of the new Slytherins to start talking to them.

*0*0*0*

Rocket had been in stitches over Quill's Sorting. First he spent a stupidly long time under the Hat, where even the teachers had begun murmuring worriedly, and then he and the stupid Hat burst into song! An absolutely ridiculous Muggle song, that was so completely out of place in the grandeur of the wizarding hall.

Rocket loved it.

Quill had put them all off balance, so when "Raccoon, Rocket!" was called, it took the masses a minute to notice, and by then, Rocket was at the stool.

He wasn't running. He was just walking quickly so he could be Sorted and have it proven to them all that he did count as human – well, human enough to get a House, to be counted a wizard by the Hat.

Obviously not running from the whispers that he could already hear circling the Hall.

The Hat barely covered Rocket's eyes, as it was held mostly aloft by Rocket's fluffy ears.

Rocket twitched his ears, allowing the Hat to fall a bit farther, muting most of his hearing. And he sat there in the darkness of the Hat.

Waiting.

…. Still waiting.

…

…..still…. waiting…

His claws clenched, his heart pounding wildly. Maybe he had been wrong after all. Maybe he was too twisted, too deformed to ever be a real wizard. Oh, who was he kidding, this was an exercise in futility. His magic, one of the only things he had ever had faith in, was a joke. ''M just a bloody freakin' raccoon, just a freaky animal who can talk and has delusions of being human…'

"Hm, I didn't realize you had that much self-disgust."

Rocket verbally yelped, his tail twitching madly. 'You can hear me!' he mentally blurted out, before recovering, 'What was the big idea, takin' so long? Tryin' to give me a bloody heart attack?'

"My apologies, but your mind is rather difficult to read, thanks to your condition, and I was attempting to focus on figuring out what House you belong to."

'…and? You gonna give me an answer, or what?'

The Hat sighed verbally, and Rocket could almost feel it rolling its eyes (if it could…? The Hat's eyes were just indents of the Hat… so how would that work?). "Well, you're certainly brash enough to be with the Lions, but you would never be at home there. You have the skills, but not the soul of the Snakes, so that blocks that option." The Hat chuckled, "You are quite a challenge Mr… Raccoon, as you prefer to go by now?"

With a growl, Rocket demanded, 'You gonna give me a House or what?'

"I was getting there – you need to learn a bit of patience. But you are impatient to know, to learn, to fill your mind with books and knowledge so you'll never be so trapped or foolish again, correct? I know exactly where you should go, and it'll be the House of the Wise –" "RAVENCLAW!"

McGonagall lifted the Hat off Rocket's head, and the raccoon-boy leaped off the stool, landing on his hind paws on the slippery stones. There was no applause for his Sorting. The Hall just stared, silent, until one 'brave' (more likely foolish) soul spoke up, "Professors… That's a raccoon. An animal. He can't possibly be a wizard or Sorted into a House."

Rocket, his hackles raised and his fur puffed out, snarled before any of the teachers could speak, "I am not an animal and I have every right to be here, you miserable glob of hormones, idiocy, and shit!"

The boy stood in anger, spluttering, but Rocket had already moved on from him. Gamora had caught Rocket's eye. She was giving him her best death glare (and, having learned from Thanos, it was slightly terrifying, not that Rocket would ever admit that) at him and he belatedly realized that he might be making a bit of a scene.

Grumbling, Rocket strode to his new table, leaping neatly onto the next seat. He ignored the other first years staring at him and shifting away, and just looked expectantly at the teachers' table.

One last beat of silence rang, before McGonagall blinked, cleared her throat, and called out the next name.

*0*0*0*

"Shafiq, Drax!"

Drax stood fluidly, but then awkwardly tried to squeeze between the other first years. They were tiny and puny and he didn't want to accidently squash one with his enhanced strength. He had already accidently injured Ron, and that wasn't even including trying to get to the platform itself. Squeezing in among all those people and trying not to just knock them all out of his way had been very difficult.

His father had been that way once, with people parting before him as he walked.

But not since the incident.

Now his father was different. He barely moved anymore, despite the house elves constantly encouraging him.

But that wasn't important now.

Drax moved up to the stool, sitting gingerly on the stool. His vision became black as the Hat dropped down.

"Ah, a Shafiq. I like Shafiqs, you're always so straightforward. Your family has been a column of righteousness in the magical society for centuries."

'My family is not made of columns.' Drax blinked in the darkness of the Hat.

It chuckled. "I know, don't worry. Now, where do you belong…? Hm… You are brave, without a question, but if I dig deeper – ah, yes. That sense of righteousness and need for justice. You don't want to just be brave. You want to fight for a cause."

'For my family.' He confirmed.

"Yes, but you don't know all of your family yet," The Hat muttered. Drax furrowed his brow, beginning to ask a question before being cut off by the Hat. "Yes, I know exactly where you belong, the only House that could help you find your family. It better be-" "-HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hat was removed hurriedly by McGonagall, and Drax numbly moved towards the cheering yellow-and-black table. He had not truly wondered about what House he would be in, but he knew his father had blithely assumed that it would be Gryffindor, like himself. Instead, he was in Hufflepuff, like his mother.

Drax smiled.

He couldn't think of a better tribute to his mother.

He slid into the seat next to the green-skinned girl, Gamora. She smiled at him, giving him a respectful nod. Drax returned the gesture as the last few first years were sorted into Houses (including a rather triumphant Ron who was quickly sent to the Gryffindor table).

Soon though, the entire Hall was hushed as the Headmaster rose. His robes were an almost violent shade of purple and glinted with bright sparkles imbued in the cloth.

"Welcome, welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Drax blinked, confused, up at the front table. He looked at Gamora. "I do not understand the meaning of his words."

Gamora gave a helpless shrug. "I don't think anyone did. His mind seems like a hive of Cornish Pixies." Another Hufflepuff looked at them, aghast, but Gamora seemed to ignore them. She instead simply reached past them, a silent challenge in her movements, and grabbed a plate of vegetables. "Carrot?" She asked Drax politely, chomping down on one with surprisingly white teeth.

Drax accepted the platter and began to dish food onto his own plate before examining their Headmaster with a closer eye. "I see no Pixies living in his head."

Gamora snorted. "It's an expression." She took a deep breath after polishing off her carrot, "I lived near to a hive of them when I was younger and the little monsters were buzzing in all directions all the time."

Drax paused, listening carefully, before giving a short nod and returning to his food, not asking Gamora for more information, and he saw her nod of appreciation.

*0*0*0*

I hope you guys all like it! It was a ton of fun to write.

Review please!

See ya,

Scales