Well it would probably have made more sense to do Roxanne next, but I just kept thinking about Lorcan. Well, I guess it's less predictable this way. Thanks to those who reviewed; they mean a lot to me, especially in my current state.

Lorcan and Lysander are Luna's sons for anyone who doesn't know, and I decided to follow the trend and make them twins, though I don't know if that's cannon. Lydia Longbottom is my own creation though, and Neville's youngest daughter.

12 – Lorcan

It's sort of anti-climatic. Actually standing here, in this hall, dripping water onto the floor, isn't as amazing as I'd built it up to be. Don't get me wrong, the hall itself is pretty impressive – and the ceiling, with the dark clouds and the flashes of brilliant lightening is amazing – but after all the years of hearing about everyone else coming here, it just seems a bit of a letdown, that's all.

I'm not sure what I expected. Fireworks and drum rolls and singing dragons. Actually, that was sort of how I imagined it when I was younger. A lot younger. But now, I'm just stood here, freezing and wet – it rained constantly from about five o clock this morning, so we got soaked getting from the house to the car, from the car to the station, and from the train to the castle itself. So I'm creating a nice big puddle on the floor, my socks feel like they're made of water, I'm colder than I've ever been in my life, and so tired that the wet, solid floor is looking like a pretty good place to nap.

I hardly got any sleep last night. Not out of nerves – not really, anyway – but just because my insomnia's come back. It comes out to play every few weeks, so I get to lay wide awake most of the night, then spend all day tired. I slept a little on the train, but Lysander kept wanting to talk. Why he couldn't have just talked with Lydia and left me to sleep, I'll never know.

So. My big awesome first day at Hogwarts doesn't feel that big or that awesome at all. But still; I'll be able to go to bed soon.

Zander's watching the sorting intently, as though fascinated by the whole process. Like it's a surprise? I don't know how many times we've heard about this from The Family.

Not that The Family are actually mine and Zander's – or even Lydia's. Not technically, not biologically. But you wouldn't know that to look at us all. Somehow my mum, and Neville, got adopted into the Weasley family. We're like honorary cousins, I guess, and we even call Molly "Grandma" like all the others. I'm not sure when that started – it's just always been that way. They're not too fussed who they let into the big family – I guess they hardly notice a couple extras – and we've never felt like we don't belong there. It's really cool, actually, 'cause the only biological family we've got is our mum's dad. That's it – dad was an only child, and his parents died forever ago.

And sometimes, I really wonder how the Weasley can be so open and accepting. They practically just have complete strangers to dinner, with no questions asked. After all they've been through, you'd think they'd be bitter and cynical.

But they're not, and I think that shows a lot of strength.

If you got by the – technically wrong – assumption that we're part of the Weasley family, we're the last ones to be sorted. Lily and Hugo got here last year – it really sucks that they're in the year above us, though Lily keeps telling us we'll all hang out outside lessons. They're all their at the Gryffindor table – another obstacle in our lifelong friendship, because I highly doubt I'll be there myself. Again, Hugo said that doesn't matter; look at Rose, Al and Scorpius Malfoy, he said, friends even though Scorpius is in Slytherin. I tried to protest a little more – "Scorpius is in their year, though" – but Lily hit my arm and told me to shut up. Gotta pick your battles.

But I can see them all, and it is a comfort. Well, I say them all; Teddy, Vee and Monique have all left now. But the rest of them are there, and it helps to know I'm not alone in this.

I know that sounds stupid when I've got my brother and one of my best friends beside me, but there's something about having older people – family – here.

And once one of them – Hugo – notices me looking over, they all do, and I get smiles and waves from the lot of them. It makes me smile, and relax, despite the soaking state of my socks.

I wonder how mum will handle us being gone. She was really worried about us leaving, and I think she considered keeping us at home. I know for a fact that James promised to look out for us. I guess he's sort of used to doing that, what with Al and Lily and Rose and Hugo. Still, it's cool to have a surrogate big brother – even Lysander's half an hour younger than I am.

The sorting's moving really slowly. Everyone else has this look of absolute dread, but I just want to sit down. And be warm and dry and asleep, but for now sitting down is good enough.

Still, we're pretty early on in the alphabet, so I guess I'm standing a little while longer.

I thought I'd feel all grown up standing here. I always thought everyone else was all grown up when they came here – except Lily and Hugo, just because they've never seemed any older than us – they all seemed taller and almost like adults. But I don't feel any different – I'm still a short, scrawny kid with funny coloured hair.

It just adds to the whole let-down feeling, to be honest.

Lydia catches my eye, offers me a smile of her own, tinted with nerves. It's strange to see, actually, because Lydia's generally a very laid back sort of person, and usually happy. (The optimism kind of annoys me sometimes, but I love her anyway.)

"Not long now." She whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. I nod, because I can't whisper without everyone within six feet hearing me, and I figure people won't appreciate me ruining the atmosphere.

I guess she assumed I was nervous, too, because she grips my hand.

Now, let me take a moment to point out that there is nothing – that is absolutely nothing – between Lydie and me. People sometimes assume there is (with me and everyone else) because she always hugs or holds hands or random stuff like that, but that's not just me, it's pretty much everyone. I guess it goes with her relaxed nature or something. But me and her are like brother and sister; I've known her my whole life.

Or her whole life, I guess, because she's like six months younger than me.

She released my hand then, though, and it took me a second to realise it's because we've reached the Ls.

I'd've offered her a good luck smile, but she wasn't looking at me. Instead she walked straight ahead, and let the hat fall over her eyes.

A couple of minutes later, she went to go sit at the Ravenclaw table. She looks both surprised and pleased; though her brother and sister are both at the Gryffindor table.

Just me and Zander now, then. Once when we were younger I convinced him there was a monster under his bed, that would come out and eat him. He was terrified, spent most of the night wide awake, and then burst into tears when something fell off of the shelf in our room. And I don't just mean shocked tears that last a few seconds, I mean proper crying, wailing and screaming and sobbing for about half an hour.

Mum wasn't very impressed, and strangely enough she decided we should stop sharing a bedroom. Couple weeks later, I was packed off to the attic.

See how I did that there – made it sound really horrible? Actually, the attic room is great; bigger than the bedroom we shared – which is now, of course, just Zander's – with a circle window and sloping ceiling. Of course, I made a big deal of it, kept going on about how I was being sent off to the attic because Zander's gullible. But I love the room, really.

And if Zander was terrified for a week, I got no enjoyment out of that whatsoever. Or the grounding I ended up with. It was hardly my fault though; you'd think at eight he'd grow out of believing in monsters.

Or mum's stories, but let's not get into that one. It's not an easy topic.

Besides, the sorting's moving on pretty quick now; we're actually nearly there. Who's going to be first, me or Zand? It'll be me, won't it? My first name's alphabetically first. Great.

I guess that suits us. I was born first, and I'm the leader. And I'm the one who knows what's real and what isn't.

OK, maybe I still have a little resentment left over. We argued about it all again last week, you see. Because my stupid brother believes all the stuff mum tells us, our bedtime stories and everything. Weird creatures with weirder names. It was bad enough when I realised Lysander believed it all (I was eight, and I actually think that was the motivation behind the monster-under-the-bed incident) but to find out that mum actually believed in them all, too, and that she was even looking for some of them...well, let's just say in makes things awkward. And sure, she's found creatures that no one thought were real, and plants, and stuff, but...

Sometimes I feel sort of like an outsider, you know? When mum and Zander are talking about these stupid animals that I don't believe in. Even dad isn't on my side – he's kind of in the middle, a maybe-they-do, maybe-they-don't kind of opinion.

But it doesn't bother me that much. Honest. And me and Zander get on pretty well mostly.

Ooh, my name's almost up, I think. Wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...

"Lorcan Scamander."

There I am. Again, this feels anti-climactic, too – walking over, sitting down, and everything going black.

I wonder if Zander's still scared of the dark...

Hmm. Interesting.

I didn't jump. I know that's a weird thing to be proud of, probably, but not jumping when someone talks inside your head must be something impressive, right?

I assume so, anyway. I don't think it's ever happened to me before.

"Ah...my brother being scared of the dark?" It was a guess, OK? How am I supposed to know what it means? He means. She means...? Sounds like a guy...

No, Lorcan. You are interesting.

"Oh. Uh...thanks?"

You're very welcome. I remember your mother.

"Um..."

I don't believe I met your father, though, did I?

"No, he was, uh, taught at home."

That explains it. I see a lot of your mother here, Lorcan. You're a lot alike.

"Not really. Zander – uh, my brother, Lysander – he's more like her. I'm not even a little bit like her, really."

You're more alike her than you realise. Perhaps in a less obvious way than your brother?

"Um...I guess..."

You can trust me, Lorcan. Your qualities are a lot like your mother's. Loyal, brave, and smart.

"I...thank you." I don't know what else to say – the hat just complimented me and my mum, right?

In your mother, the sorting was easier. Her brains were her strongest quality, so Ravenclaw was for her.

"And me...?"

I can see, Lorcan, that you very much want Gryffindor. But can I ask you why?

"I...well...The Family's all there. And Lily and Hugo...But I'm not a Gryffindor, am I?"

No, Lorcan, I'm afraid you're not. And I'm sure you'll understand that yours are the wrong reasons to choose a house.

"Guess that's why you get to make the decision, huh?"

That would be correct. I'm sorry if you're disappointed.

"I'm not. Not really. I guess. And Lydia isn't in Gryffindor, either. We'll be OK. I guess."

A word of advice, Lorcan? When you know the answer to something don't doubt it.

"Ah...OK. Sure."

Well, good luck.

"Than – wait – are we done?"

Yes. RAVENCLAW!

The hat was pulled of my head – hey, Ravenclaw, smart enough to take off hats – and I stood shakily. Ravenclaw. What do you know – I'm practically a genius!

I shoot Lysander grin, then send one over to the Gryffindor table. The Family's cheering me, so I guess it doesn't matter to them that I'm not walking over to them. I sit next to Lydia, who hugs me tightly. It's really only then that I realise that she must have been terrified over here, all alone.

This doesn't feel anti-climatic, or boring, or anything. Even though I'm still tired and wet and cold, this feels right.