McGonagall lifted the hat, pushing me gently towards the far right table when I didn't move.
"Go on," she said, pushing again lightly.
I stumbled my way over to the green table, was I back at my own Sorting? How had I been sorted into Slytherin?
I scanned the table in front of me, looking for familiar faces. Would I see Reggie again?
Stunned, I turned towards the Gryffindor table, my eyes zooming across the table. There, he was there, with his big glasses and messy hair! "James!" I shouted, waving frantically.
A hand gripped me from behind and pulled me onto the bench. "What are you doing?!" somebody hissed, as everyone around me muttered with distate.
"Who are you?" A rat-faced boy that could only be a Nott asked, his face pinched.
"Sirius Black," I announced boldly.
The boys next to me laughed.
"Good one, Pritchard. Graham, isn't it?" A boy with white blonde hair and Narcissa's face said, holding his hand out from across the table.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he introduced as we shook hands, "Mother has all your Mother's books."
"In America, they pronounce it as 'gram'." A tall boy with imperious dark eyes said next to me.
"What?" the Malfoy boy turned, curling his upper lip at this random fact.
"Graham. We say 'Grayam', and in America they say 'gram', they have 'gram' crackers. Did they name them after you?" Blaise asked curiously.
"'Course they did!" I said with a grin, "I'm well known over there."
"'Course you are!" Blaise agreed brightly.
Dumbledore called for everyone's attention to start the Feast. I tried to make eye contact, and waved high above my head to catch his attention, but he barely graced me with a smile as he looked over the room.
Maybe he was waiting for a private meeting after the feast. It wouldn't do to let everyone know the Veil reincarnates people into eleven year olds, I suppose.
A giant roast turkey appeared in front of me as the Feast started. I took a small plate, though I wasn't hungry, to try and think undisturbed.
I wasn't back at my own Sorting, though there were familiar faces here, this was clearly Narcissa's child. That meant it was Harry at the Gryffindor table, not James as I had thought.
I stuffed a roast potato into my mouth, maybe it would fill the aching hole that suddenly filled my stomach.
"So your Mother is Jodie Pritchard, then?" Nott asked, his face carefully not sneering now.
Carefully, around my potato, I said, "I'm not here to talk about my family."
A few people snorted laughs around me.
"If only everyone thought like that, Pritchard." An upper year that looked like a Selwyn called down.
Malfoy went slightly pink.
"Who are the Professors?" I asked the table, hoping to distract them from my family. I have no idea who my family are. Jodie, an author, apparently.
I knew Jodie at school. Pretty girl, always daydreaming or in the Forest. A Hufflepuff. But that would hardly help me here.
"Snape, you know, of course," the boy next to me began, pointing his butter knife in Snape's direction. A grim dark wave washed over me, looking up at his greasy face.
I hoped fervently there'd be a way back to my own body, going through Hogwarts with Snivellus as my head of house seemed a worse punishment than the Kiss.
Perhaps that was exactly what the veil had done. Punishment, re-doing life but as the enemy, I thought philosophically as I speared a carrot.
The boy continued, introducing the Professors, McGongagall, Flitwick, Sprout...
"Not foregetting that oaf, Hagrid!" Malfoy said, pointing. "A half-breed, isn't that right, Zabini?"
The boy next to me nodded, his face tight, as Malfoy's two goons laughed. Some mixed blood in his family, perhaps?
"and you've heard about the tournament, this year, haven't you?" Malfoy continued. "The Triwizard Tournament." he said with a loud whisper, as if it was privileged information.
"Oh, is that this year?" I asked breezily, "so where's Moody, then?"
"Moody?" he curled his lip, "Probably in St. Mungo's after attacking his furniture again."
I laughed along with them. "I thought he was teaching this year?"
The table around me went quiet.
"Surely Dumbledore isn't mad enough to hire a senile ex-auror." Nott said guilely.
The table remained quiet as they digested it. He was definitely mad enough.
Soon enough, the tables were cleared of the remnants of the feast and Dumbledore stood to make his announcements. The table hummed with excitement, but it was the only one that did.
Clearly the others weren't in the know about the Tournament yet. I would have to find a way to warn Harry and Dumbledore.
"So!" said Dumbleodre, smiling around at everybody. "I must ask once more for your attention..." he began. I tuned out, looking around to see if Harry recognised me. I waved over, trying to catch his eye.
He looked puzzled and did a small wave back. Hermione slapped his arm down, tutting.
The doors banged open with a huge rumble of thunder and lightning, revealing Mad-Eye Moody.
"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore announced, "Professor Moody."
I applauded lightly, but nobody else did.
Malfoy hissed at me, "How did you know that?!"
I winked at him and shrugged easily. The table murmured around me, along with the rest of the hall.
"Who's the impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Nott asked, whilst everyone discussed who would be putting their name in.
"It's the Goblet of Fire," I said knowledgeably, "An ancient artifact they've used since the beginning."
Malfoy nodded appreciably. Everyone likes a good ancient artifact, especially the ones that still have power.
"Well?" Zabini asked, as we were herded along to the dungeons, "Who'll be champion?"
I considered my options, and decided to just go for it.
"Well, firstly," I said importantly, "Hogwarts win." The group around me cheered, of course we do.
"Viktor Krum for Durmstrang." I said, to get their attention. The crowd had a lot to say about that, apparently it wasn't well known that he was still a Durmstrang student.
I let the crowd quieten down before carrying on, "Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, a part-Veela," I said with a wink at Zabini.
He only raised his eyebrow. Maybe an eleven year old winking wasn't as charming as I thought.
"and for Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked, the crowd hanging on to see what we had to say.
"Cedric Diggory," I started, and before they could voice their disagreements, I said "and Harry Potter."
The crowd really disagreed about both of those choices. A Hufflepuff and Potter? Outrageous.
A Prefect showed us up to the Dorm, and I left them to their heated discussion of more appropriate Champions.
I crept out of the common room after it had gone quiet. I need to go and see James.
My feet took me up to Gryffindor Tower without me paying attention. I had walked these halls for seven years, every nook, every cranny. It was home.
I patted a suit of armor as I walked past. Some things were here before me, would be here after me. Were here after me. Was still here. I confused myself, pondering existence.
If I wasn't in my own body, how was I still me? If my body dies, am I not dead?
I'm not a philosopher, and the thoughts made my head spin. Or maybe that was the moving staircase. It's hard to say.
I put my green tie in my pocket, that'd never get past the portrait.
I tapped on the frame of the Fat Lady, waking her up. "Excuse me miss," I said, with big tears in my eyes.
She looked me up and down, and swung open.
The Common Room wasn't empty, but they aren't a suspicious lot, Gryffindors. I strode to the boys' staircase like I belonged, and opened the fourth years dorm.
"Who are you?" a blonde boy asked.
Maybe it's not the fourth years dorm anymore, I thought, a little bit late.
"Er, I'm Graham," I whispered tearfully, "I'm homesick and looking for my cousin Ron."
The boy blinked and patted me on the back, "I'm Colin," he said good-naturedly, leading me up to Ron's dorm.
He knocked once, and opened the door, "Ron? I've brought your cousin to see you, he's homesick." Colin said, looking brightly into the dorm as if waiting for a prize.
"Thank you!" I said cheerfully, and pushed him out of the door.
"You're not my cousin." Ron frowned at me.
"Are you sure?" I shrugged as I walked into the room. "Harry, I've got to tell you something."
They looked at me, puzzled. "I'm Padfoot. I'm Snuffles. I'm Sirius Black."
The other boys in the room gasped, a round, chubby boy jogged over to the door.
"Wait!" Harry and Ron shouted at the portly boy.
"Sorry, Neville," Ron said, walking the boy back over to his bed, "he is my cousin, that's just a joke we play, he's just like Fred and George, really."
"Are you polyjuiced?" Harry whispered.
"No, I'm reincarnated!" I almost shrieked.
"Bellatrix knocked me through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries, and now I'm this boy!" I hysterically whispered, my voice pitching high like I was asking a question.
"They use the Veil instead of the Dementors Kiss sometimes," Ron explained with wide eyes.