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The long awaited chapter- Sorting! PS you guys, 1900 views! Amazing 3 We're so close to 2000! Thanks you guys so very much!


"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,"

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

"… Well, she looks better than she does in the movies, that's for sure." Ten's mumbles were once again nipped in the bud by Eleven's handy walloping elbow. Thankfully, the stern witch didn't have seemed to have heard.

The procession of first years flowed discordantly across the flagstones of the Entrance Hall, in a sort of ragtag mess. It was clear that one, or all Doctor would have loved to stay there for a longer instance, but they were already ushered an empty chamber off of it.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into you houses." Until then, the Doctor/s hadn't exactly been paying too much to whatever Professor McGonagall had been saying. They perked up now, exchanging looks.

While the Transfiguration Professor continued on, the three were holding a silent argument cross discussion through eye contact. Despite them all practically being the same person, it wasn't actually going that well and there were some misunderstandings that weren't voiced.

"-I hope you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Maybe he was just imagining it, but did her gaze linger on them for just a moment after the others? Ten silently gulped, hoping his hair wasn't the cause. As it were, Eleven was secretly thankful that the others had wrestled him into a proper tie, not that he'd admit it. Still, he should do something about it as soon as possible…

As soon as she left the first years burst into muted conversation. The Time Lords took this chance to have a conversation. Or, another argument, only verbal this time.

"How are we going to do anything when we're sorted into different houses?"

"I would first worry about if we are, you know."

"Oh come on, Ears! We all know we are."

Eleven led off, prompting Nine's dry tones.

"There's always free periods, after class and stuff, right? I'm sure we'll be fine." Ten interrupted the two. Eleven threw his predecessor a withering glare.

"Say that again when everyone in your house lynch you for never shutting up." The end of his sentence was punctuated with screams. Lightning fast out of habit, the Doctors' heads whipped around, seeking out the source of commotion.

The ghosts had arrived, floating through the walls as if they weren't even there. In the spectral department, they ranked fairly high in the ghostly. Cyberghosts had nothing on these things.

"-I say! What are you all doing here?"

There was a beat where nobody answered. Then, a voice spoke up.

"I would say it's because we got off the Hogwarts Express and took the boats here. Actually, then we followed Hagrid and Professor McGonagall here."

It was Ten, who did not look abashed in the slightest. Everybody in the room stared at him, and he still didn't look bothered.

The Fat Friar laughed heartily, beaming from ear to ear. A few other chuckles from the other ghost sounded as well.

"New students, then! About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Well, yes. I suppose we are. Exciting, now that I think about it!"

There was a chortle from the ghost. "Well, then. Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

The conversation could have surely carried on longer, but the Professor McGonagall swept into the room and shooed them off. "Now form a line, and follow me."

This time they weren't so lucky as to stick together. The following hustling around dislodged them from their positions, and one lost sight of the others, as went the other way round as well.

The stream of first years flooded out into the Entrance Hall, and into the Great Hall.

If not for the amazing amount of self-control each iteration of the Doctor possessed, they may have just stopped right there and held up the line. Then again, there was a constant pace to be kept…

The line eventually settled, and the Doctor/s turned to whatever interested them most, which actually turned out to be the translucent ceiling above them.

It was a miracle then and there that none of them actually had the thought of redecorating the TARDIS interior of something similar- seeing galaxies and asteroids and planets, even the Time Vortex around them as they travelled, but then again, it would get very disorientating after a while.

There was silence from the first years. Professor McGonagall placed a hat on a stool in front of them. A moment passed in absolute stillness.

Then the Hat opened near the brim like a jagged tear, not unlike the cracks that haunted Eleven, and it began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty…"


"-For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

There was great applause, amongst which were the relieved whispers of many a first year, the three Time Lords not included, although they did clap in varying levels of enthusiasm.

'Unfortunate' as it was, the trio's last names were found in the latter half of the alphabet, and so, had to wait through minutes of eleven years trying on the hat and be sent off.

There went one, there went another, another, oh look-

"Noble, John!"

Ten almost didn't quite catch his name being called, but blinked, realised and dashed forward with some apologies to take his place on the stool. It was with belated horror that he also realised that the Hat would be now privy to his memories, unless his shields were capable of shutting it out from-

Quite the worrier, aren't you? I can see them all here- My, you aren't an ordinary child, are you? Whatever are you doing here?

-his memories.

Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. The Hat seemed to laugh, only very quietly.

I really hope I can trust you.

My, ah, lips, are sealed. But enough about me, this is your sorting, after all! Enjoy it, why don't you?

I guess so. Reluctance on the Doctor's end.

Now, what have we got here… Oho! I can see you really aren't from here, are you? Gallifrey, Gallifrey, funny that- Ah, well. That's a story for another time. And, you're not alone!

I mean, technically, I am… We are essentially the same person.

Oh shush- I'm still going to sort you where you're going. I can worry about them when it's their turn.

Huh. Well then, great and illustrious Hat, where am I to be staying? Mind, I've got some ideas of my own, but you've been doing this longer than I have, so you must have some idea, right?

Very funny, you. The question of the matter is this. Where would you like to go?

Me? W-what? Why are you asking me? I thought you chose for them?

That's just it, isn't it? You fit well almost everywhere. Gryffindor would gladly have you. Selfless, brave, and rushing into danger at every corner. My, my, the sparks you'd make.

That's not true, The Doctor countered the Hat, frowning slightly under the brim. I run away. I don't really think I'm that brave. You've got me on the danger part, but that's-

I'm not done, am I? So be quiet for once, goodness knows people will appreciate it.

And that certainly shut him right up, at least, for now.

Hufflepuff would also be glad to have you, I see. What's this- many fair chances offered, none taken- for three months, even? Ah, but somehow, I don't think that's where you'll find your calling.

Oh. I didn't really want to let down the Fat Friar, but I guess it really is up to you.

You still have a choice, have you not? And who said you could talk? Well, we're only halfway there, you know.

You could be great in Slytherin. The waves you could make! Get those lazy purebloods off their arses, certainly. All these clever plans, Sally Sparrow and the Angels? A Year-That-Never-Was? I sense a nice heap of ambition here as well. The Time Lord Victorious, eh?

Don't. Don't go there. Whatever you do…just don't. I don't want to talk about it. I've left that behind. It was a mistake. One I'll never make again.

Hmf. The hat sounded disappointed, but carried on nonetheless. Shame. I suppose you know what's next then?

Ravenclaw, isn't it?

Correct. The house of the clever, the logical and those of wit. Those who think and invent, see outside social constructs. Of course, I only say this as this would be a marvellous fit for you, and I have no shame in saying so.

When you put it like that, I have to agree.

I predict you'll change it drastically, if you so choose. There was a time where those 'claws would do something other than read all day. Those were the days, I tell you-

Hat, you're rambling. What do I do?

I bet you're the life of the party. It's not like you can say anything, can you? Anyway, Ravenclaw. They're eccentric enough for you.

Am I not too much?

No, you're fine. It's getting to be quite a long time. Oh, a word of advice, watch out for the others in your house year. You probably know this already, but when they get competitive, they get competitive. Besides, you're interesting. I'm looking forward to your other selves, but, I'll have to send you on your way to-

"RAVENCLAW!"

What-! Hat, you said I had a choice!

I lied. Now, off you go! Don't waste my time!

Ten peeled the Hat away from his head, looking a bit dazedly at the shell-shocked occupation of Hogwarts. His internal time sense fluctuated for a second, but spat out an approximation. Five minutes and thirteen seconds. He set the Hat down awkwardly on the stool and made his way over to the Ravenclaw table. It was only then on his walk down did the applause kick in at full force.

He slid into an empty spot and abruptly thunked his head onto the table. Dear Rassilon that was tiring. And if that was any indication, he had lots of questions coming his way…


Eleven was the next incarnation to go. He, admittedly, had been somewhat surprised when his younger self was sorted to Ravenclaw, but upon reflection, found it all quite a logical choice.

However, the wait was not appreciated. This was the first actual 'Hatstall' in over fifty years. Of course, it had to happen to him, or, a version of him.

Idly, he began to categorise who would be going, descending down the ranks until he got to himself-

"Pond-Song, John!"

Well. What a coincidence.

Ignoring the murmurs through the hall at having two first years named the same, Eleven stumbled his way up to the stool, and with none too much enthusiasm, dropped the hat over his head. Well, this is boring. Isn't there supposed to be a thing?

And what thing would that be? Don't shout. Can't you give an old hat a break?

Oh! Good! It's nice to meet you. Where am I going?

Don't get impatient with me. Goodness, I liked your younger one better.

Whuh? Him? But then that means-

I can see your memories, yadda yadda, I'm not telling them to anybody, yada yada, trust me. He did.

We're-

The same person. Yes, I got that the first time around. Not Ravenclaw for you, though. You're not that much of a booky type. You have the intellect for it, but it's not for you.

Oh. Well, I can't say I was hoping for it, but, you've been doing this longer.

Alright, alright. What do you think of Gryffindor? I've said this to him, but your opinion is counted as well.

Not opposed to it, if that's what you're wondering. But is that really what you think of me?

Stubborn, righteous, do gooder-ing, house? Very you. Lots of courage, I see here, but… maybe there's somewhere else for you.

Are you thinking of-

Hufflepuff? Yes. If there's anything you have, it's loyalty, in spades. Amelia Pond, and you'd change someone's life for a chance to save her. Honestly, jumping into your own timestream to save Clara?

I'd rather you didn't actually talk about those, thanks.

The Hat grumbled. What's the point of the Sorting if you can't talk about strong points? Well, you'd better be off.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table in question cheered and clapped as their newest addition took off the hat and set it down on the stool. He made his way over to the table, somewhat distractedly.

This was certainly a new experience.


If anything, the line seemed to crawl on even longer after Harry Potter was sorted.

Realistically, there was only a short amount of time to Nine's Sorting, except it seemed to drag on forever.

Finally, "Smith, John!" was called out, and completely oblivious to the mutters that yet again, there was another John, he made his way to the front of the thinning crowd of first years and took his place on the stool.

Another one! So you're the last one, eh? Good riddance.

The Hat, I presume?

Correct. Now, where shall I put you? Slytherin? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? Or Gryffindor?

You're the Hat. You tell me.

Hah! The Hat scoffed. Don't get mouthy with me. Courage aplenty, I see. Oh, there's smarts alright, but you are a man of action, aren't you?

Can you get on with it? Irritation flashed from the Doctor.

Insolence isn't just limited to one, I see. You've seen your fair share of horrors, haven't you? Always the hero, brave and kindly. You'll go far, as long as you can keep your tongue straight. Somehow, I doubt that'll happen though.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

With that proclamation, the hall filled with applause. Nine set the hat back down on its stool, giving it a dark look.

The Hat had seen into his memories, hadn't it? And those of himselves in the future as well…

But this was not the time to think about it. Nine settled into a space next to some other first years, of which, he noted, was the oh-so-famous Harry Potter. Well. This could be interesting.


Sorry if it doesn't seem as good. Be sure to tell me what you think of my decisions, however cliche they are ^^;.