Chapter 29: I'm Blue
"That was totally wicked!" Ron exclaimed, nothing short of celebratory. "Did you see Malfoy's face?! He looked positively green!"
There was a pleased-sounding purr, and Sans spotted a fluffy orange ball of fur curled up comfortably beside Hermione; so there was a cat in here, too. Turning yellow lantern-like eyes on the disguised skeleton, the cat gave him a curious sniff.
Sirius stepped between them with a doggy smile and a wag of his tail, and that seemed enough for the feline to judge Sans as being alright.
Things went quiet.
"You're not wearing your slippers," Hermione noted, for want of anything else to say.
Sans rocked back on his heels, then sat on the floor with his back against the door. Indeed, he was already wearing his full Hogwarts uniform, shoes included.
"in this weather, water you thinking?" He grinned. "to be honest, i was downpour not wearing shoes at all, but remus wouldn't let me go barefoot."
Hermione didn't seem to catch the puns, though Ron snorted in amusement. She sent her friend a slightly confused look, unsure what the joke was, and noticed that even Neville was trying not to grin. Unwilling to ask about what was so amusing, she instead turned the conversation to school.
Somewhere in the midst of their chatting about classes and professors, the topic turned to the incoming first years and, as a consequence, to Sans.
"So," Harry started, his mannerisms indicating that this was a question he had been sitting on for quite some time: "What house do you think you'll end up in?"
Sans leaned his head back to get a better look at the four kids, but didn't really bother getting up from his slumped spot on the floor. "what're the options again? it's like… snake, lion, bird, or badger, right?"
To be honest, he only half paid attention as Hermione gave him the rundown of the different houses. All the vague things he'd heard about the sorting suggested that he wouldn't really get to choose anyway, so he figured he'd get the details on whatever house he ended up in after being sorted there. Knowing colors, mascots, and at least one adjective was enough for Sans.
"Bet you he'll be in Gryffindor." Ron said it like it was something obvious.
Harry seemed to agree. "No bet, Ron. That's a given."
His expression didn't change very much, but Sans looked away out the window and his eyes might have dimmed ever so slightly. Personally, and perhaps somewhat uncharitably, Sans very much doubted that he would end up in the house of bravery.
And the Gryffindor colors were red and gold, which… well, he'd rather not surround himself with that.
Sirius nodded, and huffed a bark of agreement.
"Really?" asked Hermione, with the surprised air of one who disagrees quite completely. "I, personally, would guess Hufflepuff."
"Hufflepuff?" Harry sounded skeptical.
"Of course!" she replied. "Between courage, ambition, academics, and loyalty, I rather think loyalty stands out in his case."
Sans felt his smile hallow out, becoming brittle and fake, but he kept it firmly in place. He looked to the ceiling of the compartment, and, with a deliberately lazy speed, let his eyes slide shut.
Ron was clearly unconvinced, and tried to go about voicing that without spilling the beans to Neville about escaped criminals and vigilante justice against Death Eaters.
"But you know what he— I mean, back then, he—" Clearly struggling to find examples that could be shared in present company, he shifted gears. "Neville! What house do you think he'll end up in?"
Startled to be so suddenly brought into the conversation, the boy took a moment to process the question and go over what little he knew of Sans. There wasn't much to review, given they had only met a few hours before, but some things stood out to him. Neville nodded to himself. "Ravenclaw."
Harry looked as if that option hadn't even occurred to him.
"Come off it!" Ron scoffed, waving to where Sans looked to be falling asleep upright. "Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? Does that look like a hardworking academic to you?"
Hermione huffed. "Well, alright then. I'll change my vote." Before the redhead could even crack a smug smile, she finished, "I'll go with Ravenclaw, too."
That startled a laugh out of Harry, sent Ron spluttering, and Neville looked vaguely pleased that she agreed with him.
As the conversation began to move past potential house placements—for which Sans was grateful—it turned to the Quidditch World Cup. That topic coming up was probably inevitable, though Sans was less grateful about that. At least it was entertaining watching Harry and Ron try to avoid certain topics. They focused exclusively on what happened during the game itself—chatting about impressive flying and points scored and completely ignoring the rather more significant event that happened hours after the game had ended.
"Gran didn't want to go," Neville said, and he looked a strange mixture of disappointed and relieved. "I guess that was a good thing, in the end. Did… did that really happen?"
Ron quite deliberately pretended to misunderstand. "The Wronski Feint? Yeah, it was—"
Hermione smacked his shoulder. "You know what he meant, Ron. Are you trying to be funny?" She said 'funny', but she clearly meant 'obvious about the fact that something fishy is going on'. "Yes. It did really happen."
"i was there, too," Sans added, unconcerned, as if the whole thing had very little to do with him. "front row seats, in fact."
The remark earned him a reproachful look from Hermione, who likely didn't appreciate his relaxed attitude given his involvement should probably be kept under wraps.
"Are you alright?" Neville sounded rather alarmed.
"it's been days, don't worry."
The fact that it wasn't a definite answer was, apparently, not very reassuring. Met with six pairs of worried eyes—that would be Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, the dog, and the cat—Sans felt something tight and warm settle in his ribcage.
"i'm fine," he said, shrugging. "maybe just a little… tired, ya know?"
Maybe there was something in his voice that he wasn't hearing, because that didn't seem to make them less worried either.
With a slight frown, Hermione suggested, "Maybe you should go back to your compartment, get some rest there instead of sitting on the floor here."
"kicking me out, i see."
"No, I just—!"
Harry, seeing her falter, stepped in and offered Sans a hand up. "Yep! Kicking you out, can't have you stay here. We're much too noisy for naps, you see."
Pulled to his feet, the disguised skeleton was somewhat baffled by their insistence that he get back to his compartment and sleep. The usual comment on his sleeping habits was to try and keep him awake, after all, and certainly didn't encourage him to take naps.
Harry offered to walk with them, but Neville waved him down; he would be leaving, too, after all.
And so, in short order, the three of them were all standing in the corridor with the door shut behind them. Neville really needn't have left with them, but he seemed a worrying sort and probably wanted to make sure Sans got back safe and sound. As for Sirius, he looked a little less than pleased to be leaving so soon, but leave he did—leading the way with another worried look up at his friend.
When they walked into their compartment, Luna didn't so much as look up from her magazine. She did, however, greet them.
In a manner of speaking.
"Neville should sit by me."
Having just been about to nervously suggest that very thing, Neville blinked at her in surprise.
Luna turned a page of her magazine. "Then Sans can lie down."
"i really don't think—"
She looked up at him, smiling. "Then you can take a nap."
Her tone was as airy as usual, but brooked no argument. Neville took his spot beside the surprisingly assertive girl, so, with no other choice, Sans just shrugged and flopped down on his designated seat. Sirius curled up on the floor, one still-worried eye watching his friend.
"honestly, i'm fine."
The dog snorted, and one didn't need to be able to speak doggish to understand the distinct 'you better be' communicated in his concerned gaze.
=X=X=X=
The rest of the train ride passed fairly quickly, and Sans did almost drift off once or twice: he must have been more tired than he thought. When they finally arrived at their destination, Luna and Neville had to head off to wherever the upperclassmen went, apparently confident that Sans would know where to go.
He did not.
Luckily, though, somebody was shouting over the rain and the general din, gathering up the other first year students at one end of the train platform. Sans, being significantly shorter than the rest of the crowd, couldn't see who it was until the push of other people all but shoved him into the person in question. He looked up.
And up.
And up.
And decided that Hagrid—since this must be he—was every bit as gigantic as Sirius and Remus had said when they were debriefing him on some of what to expect. The incredibly tall and broad man smiled down at him.
"From what I see, yeh must be the last one," he said, voice gruff but undeniably friendly. "This way, then. Mind yer step, now!"
Sans moved with the rest of the crowd, following Hagrid along a very dark, very steep path through a dense forest. Even with the leafy canopy overhead, rain had turned the ground to treacherous mud that pulled at shoes and threatened to slip out from underfoot in turns.
Sirius—despite his best effort—was becoming an absolute mess of dirt, water, and leaves.
And then, emerging from the trees onto the shore of a broad lake, they had their first look at Hogwarts.
Or, well… the other first years got their first look at Hogwarts. Sans had, of course, already seen the castle back at the start of summer. He had to admit, though, perched as it was on top of a mountain with the storm as a dramatic backdrop, the castle cut an impressive figure.
The rain felt as if it was falling harder than ever. Sans surreptitiously gathered some of the water in a cup of blue magic and hosed Sirius down, taking advantage of the other students' distraction. The dog shook vigorously, dislodging even more mud, and Sans kept the mess from hitting anyone else.
"Right then," Hagrid waved toward the lake, where a small fleet of boats were tied up to a dock that looked like it had been put together at the last minute. "No more'n four in each, and hold tight!"
There was a chorus of dismayed noises—some even a little scared—as the first years collectively realized that, yes, they were going to be crossing the lake in this weather.
Sans got in a boat with two of his fellow students, both of them looking nervous but ecstatic despite the pouring rain. One was a boy with mousy brown hair, and he seemed unable to sit still: eagerly bouncing in place and chattering non-stop. The young blond girl sitting beside him was demonstrating rather remarkable patience, as she hadn't yet smacked the boy for risking tipping them out of the boat.
Still on the ramshackle dock, Sirius snuffled at the lip of the boat doubtfully. He tested it with one paw, not liking how he couldn't hold it steady while trying to board.
"either get in by yourself," Sans said in a teasing threat, "or i'll be forced to take matters into my own hands."
Sirius shot him the look that deserved, but finally decided he could made the jump: then, claws skittering off the damp wood, he almost didn't. Nobody noticed the slight hint of blue or the way, for one split-second, gravity didn't seem to affect the rain-damp golden retriever.
Or, for that matter, how the whole boat became slightly tinted to keep it from capsizing.
They did notice the sudden tipsy-turvy motion, however—boy and girl both scrambling for a handhold along the edge of the boat with exclamations of surprise. The dog flopped to the bottom, all four legs deciding they'd rather not try and keep him standing if the floor was going to wobble so much. Sans chuckled at his friend's expense.
When things stopped rocking, the other two occupants of the boat finally noticed their fellow passengers.
"Oh, I'm sorry, uhm…" The girl tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear in what was probably an anxious tick. "Hi. My name's Laura Madley."
Having failed to find a good handhold when the boat had rocked, the boy had fallen to the bottom and was now nose-to-nose with Sirius. So, of course, the first thing he said was: "Hello, doggy."
Sirius replied with a soft woof.
The boy sat up, trying to wipe some of the mud from his trip to the bottom of the boat off his face. He had limited success, but the rain at least helped with that. "I'm Dennis Creevey."
"sans," he introduced himself. "and this is paddy."
Further conversation was interrupted by Hagrid, shouting over the rain and water. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but, whatever it was, it resulted in the boats surging forward all at once.
The lake was choppy, wind and storm pulling up worryingly tall waves that splashed a spray of cold water into their faces. They all might be thoroughly soaked by the rain already, but the prospect of falling overboard really wasn't appealing. Everyone held tight to their seats.
Or at least, almost everyone did; Dennis was too fascinated by the castle and would have fallen in completely if Sans hadn't caught the distracted boy by the back of his shirt and hauled him back.
It was a relief when the boats carried them through a curtain of damp vines and into a tunnel that led under the school itself, and an even greater relief to leave the boats behind altogether.
Laura was squeezing the water out of her frazzling braid when she noticed. "How'd you dry your hair so fast, Sans?"
He blinked, then went a bit cross-eyed looking at the fluff of white hair that hung in front of his face. Sure enough, without rainfall actively falling on his head to push it flat, his hair had returned to looking as it always did: flyaway and bone dry.
"uh, trade secret," he replied, not having a better answer for her. His clothes were still dripping wet, of course.
She just smiled and shook her head at that, still-wet braid whipping drops of water across the stone floor.
Hagrid led the way up some stairs that ended at a huge oak door, and he knocked on it thrice. It was opened by a tall, strict-looking witch.
"Here they are, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said. "Safe n' sound."
The stern professor looked over the sopping wet crowd; she gave Sirius—or rather, Paddy, the golden retriever—a curious look, but didn't comment. Instead she pulled her wand from her robes and waved it over the group.
"Ventus," she intoned. Hot air swept past the damp students, drying out their soaked robes.
Sans noticed the warm oranges and yellows streaking through the magic of her spell, even if it didn't visibly have a color.
The first years followed Professor McGonagall into the entrance hall, a space lit inefficiently by torches along the walls, and then into a small side room.
"Welcome to Hogwarts."
She then proceeded to explain some details about the sorting, the different houses, house-points, and other stuff Sans didn't much care about. He was thoroughly distracted, actually, probing thoughtfully at the veins of magic flowing through the castle's very walls. It was fascinating.
In fact, he hadn't even noticed that the professor had left until he heard exclamations of surprise from some of the other students and looked up from the flagged stone floor under his feet.
There were ghosts.
Not like Napstablook, but still definitely ghosts.
The silvery figures drifted through the walls, floating overhead and chatting to each other in a way completely detached from the amazed students below them. Or seemingly detached, anyway; Sans was fairly certain, based on their semi-transparent expressions, that they were dropping those subtle warnings and factoids about the school on purpose. He rather thought the whole thing looked rehearsed.
A squat old monk and a man bedecked in clothes outside the current century drifted through the wall, arguing about another specter—an apparent trouble maker—named Peeves.
Professor McGonagall returned shortly, and the ghosts floated away. She made quick work getting all the first years to line up, then led the way out of the waiting room and through the impressive double doors on the other side of the hall.
Sans was, admittedly, very impressed.
Not by the numerous students and professors, nor the colorful draperies hanging down over the four long tables. Not the shiny gold dishes waiting to be piled high with food. Not even Professor McGonagall, standing at the front of the hall with a list of names beside a stool wearing a very old hat.
No, what impressed him was the complex magic built into the masonry overhead.
Dark clouds, mirroring those looming in the sky outside, filled the space where the ceiling should be. Floating candles cast dramatic light on the underside of the illusory storm—the false rain glittered as if fell, then simply vanished before it could even reach the top of the banners. A flash of lightning streaked across the ceiling; a moment later, he could hear the distant rumble from outside.
Then the hat started singing, which drew Sans's attention away from the enchantment on the ceiling. Most of the song covered things he already knew, but the penultimate line had him frowning.
"what does it mean," he mused, "when it says it will 'look inside your mind'?"
Laura, who happened to be standing next to him, shrugged. Down by his feet, Sirius gave a snort that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
"When I call out your name," Professor McGonagall said, addressing the first years, "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your house, you will go and sit at the appropriate table."
And so the sorting began.
"Ackerley, Stewart!"
He shook the whole time he was being sorted, twitching anxiously and fiddling with the hem of his robes as everyone waited for the hat to do whatever the hat was going to do to sort him.
"RAVENCLAW!"
There was applause, and the newly-sorted first year hurried off to join his new housemates. There had been no talking, just hat on and then sorted; the line in the song was perfectly literal.
"Baddock, Malcolm!" called Professor McGonagall.
A ridiculously tall eleven-year-old boy walked forward to take his turn under the hat; his stride was long and seemingly full of confidence, but anyone adept at reading body-language could tell the kid was as nervous as the first one, just better at hiding it. The boy's hands were balled into fists, and still Sans could see that they were trembling.
"SLYTHERIN!"
There was noticeably less cheering for him, so Sans took it upon himself to clap as loud as he could. And shot a glare in the direction of red and gold when he heard a mocking hiss.
Dennis Creevey went to Gryffindor, which, based on his grin, was exactly where he'd wanted to go.
The crowd of first years began thinning as students were sorted away into their respective houses. As child after child went up to the stool, Sans couldn't help but wonder just what memories the hat would be able to pull from his head. It was an unsettling thought.
Laura ended up in Hufflepuff.
There were only five more first years waiting now, Sans included. Then one went to Gryffindor and another to Slytherin, and there were only three left waiting.
"Quirke, Orla."
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Skelton, Sans," called Professor McGonagall.
"welp. that'd be me," he said, walking forward with Sirius trotting at his heels.
As he stepped forward, he heard a bit of a commotion at the table decked out in green and silver. Glancing that way, Sans saw somebody rather familiar staring back in open (then swiftly closed) shock. He pointed a pair of finger guns at Cassius—who looked vaguely confused and affronted by the gesture—and then turned back to the matter at hand.
Sans sat down on the little three-legged stool, and McGonagall plopped the old hat down on his head. It slid down rather farther than it should, squishing the hair of his glamour over his eye sockets and effectively blinding him.
He waited. A minute passed.
Nothing happened.
After waiting another three minutes—Sans prided himself on being very patient—he was pretty sure something should have happened.
"uhh…"
The hat on his head twitched, as if startled, and then a voice near his temple whispered, "Oh my, how peculiar. Very peculiar, indeed."
"that's exactly what i wanted to hear from an apparently semi-sentient fashion disaster," Sans murmured in response, a little peeved. He already stood out enough, and would have preferred his sorting to be as average as possible.
There was a low laugh—reminiscent of flags blowing in a gentle wind—then the voice, while still quiet, became noticeably more playful. "How rude! I'll have you know I'm the height of stylish head-wear."
"well, aren't you just the most sarcastic hat in the world."
"I suppose I'll take that as a compliment," the hat replied, sounding rather smug.
"good," said Sans, smiling.
The brim of the hat twisted in what might have been the clothing equivalent of an eye roll. "I'm afraid I've allowed myself to veer quite off track. As much as I'm enjoying this unusual chat, we really do have a bit of a problem."
"having trouble getting in my head, are ya?"
That earned him a disgruntled-sounding hum; the hat was probably embarrassed or ashamed that he had been set upon a student he couldn't sort.
This was a huge relief, and something Sans had been somewhat hoping for.
"well," he began, as nonchalant as ever, "if you're gonna read a brain, you first need a brain to read."
"What, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"
Sans shrugged, and was very careful to pitch his voice as low as possible so that nobody else could overhear, "you see, strictly speaking, i don't have a brain."
"I see. Yes, that would… Wait." If the hat had eyes, they would have gone very wide. Loudly, forgetting all the careful whispering they had been doing, it exclaimed, "WHAT?!"
Sans winced. "easy on the volume there, hatty."
"You don't sound like a liar," the hat said, back to secretive whispers.
"that's because i'm not."
"Then what are you?"
"a new first-year you still need to deal with, obviously." He leaned back slightly on the stool, tilting his head up and wondering just how long he had been sitting there in front of the entire school. He imagined that the last student waiting to be sorted was just growing more and more anxious as this dragged on.
"I suppose you have a point." The hat went silent for a moment, thinking, then asked, "So. Which house do you think you belong in?"
"really? you'll just let me choose?"
Huffing, clearly unable to come up with any alternative, the hat grumbled, "I don't have many options at this point."
Faced with this unforeseen (but kind of foreseen) opportunity, a part of him couldn't help but regret his lack of attention during the train ride: discussion had, at one point, turned to the various differences between the houses. Another, bigger part of him still thought the idea of dividing students by trait was silly.
Sans lifted the brim of the hat slightly, looking at each table in turn.
"i do like the color blue," he mused, as if nothing else particularly mattered.
Beside him, Sirius gave a decidedly dissenting sniff; of course he would have wanted to go to Gryffindor, which was coincidentally the one house Sans would refuse to choose for himself.
"You are an odd one," the hat sighed, in as much as a hat could sigh. "But at this point that's as good an argument as any for RAVENCLAW!"
The last word, as had been done with the other students, was shouted out into the Great Hall.
"nice talking with ya," Sans said, taking off the hat. It replied with a snide farewell.
He was already a few steps from the stool when people seemed to remember that they usually clapped at this point. It was as if the watching students and professors needed to process and catch up, gears spinning but not clicking together for a moment.
Sans glanced over everyone in the hall as he headed toward the table in blue. Harry and Ron looked slightly put out by his sorting—and therefore their lost bet—while both Hermione and Neville were smiling. At the green table, Cassius was clapping politely even as he struggled to keep the stupefaction off his face.
With a slightly pouty golden retriever trailing after him, Sans managed to claim a spot with the blues next to the only person in his new school house that he actually knew.
"Hello again," Luna greeted, a welcoming if somewhat unfocused smile on her face.
"it's been so long," joked Sans. "i was worried you might have forgotten me."
She tilted her head, long blond hair falling over her shoulder. "I hope you're not feeling too blue about ending up here."
It was a pun, for sure, but presented with such a straight-faced and oblivious tone that Sans still found himself second guessing. He grinned.
Author's Note:
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.
I'm blue, da ba dee da ba die!
OKAY. SO. BIG NEWS.
You might remember how a few chapters ago, I mentioned that I have freakin' amazing news to share? Well, Now I can tell you. Brace yourselves.
A user by the name of DangerPuff has DRAWN A COMIC BASED ON THIS FANFIC! It's amazing and beautifully drawn and you should immediately check it out. I curse the fact that I can't just add a link here! You can find it easily at the end of the fanfic posted on Ao3, or with a quick google search (probably). I'll add a copy-past link to my profile, too.
BUT AGAIN, AND I CANNOT SAY THIS ENOUGH: Thank you so much, DangerPuff!
Plus, I also got some fanart from InsertSomthinAwesome over on deviantART. It's got Remus, Sirius, Sans, Toriel, Flowey, Papyrus, and Frisk! Thank you so much, I love it! This, too, I shall link on my profile page.
And all this just in time, too! Happy Second Birthday, Under the Veil!
Anyway, back to business.
About this chapter—specifically, about the fact that the hat can't read his mind. You may recall that the Horcrux snarfed out some of Sans's memories during their confrontation, and that is because the locket was looking through his SOUL. The hat is charmed to read minds, and so it looks through someone's brain. Sans is smart, definitely alive, but he just doesn't have a brain.
I hope this little twist to how sorting a skeleton would work was as fun for you to read as it was for me to think up and write!
Also, I think Hermione is a pretty literal person… and probably not great at wordplay. I mean, she calls her group for house-elf liberation S.P.E.W. for goodness sake! That word does not inspire trust, in my opinion.
(Wow, this was a long and exciting author's note. And also a long chapter. Phew.)
Updates on the first of the month.
Thank you so much for all of the reviews, favorites, follows, and even just taking the time to read. (And also thanks for the fanart, I still can't believe people draw fanart of this story!)
See ya on the flipside, everyone!
