...

so it begins.

"Who's Harry Potter?!" Cedric exclaims, making Brianna blink, "He's only the person who defeated You-Know-Who!"

"You-Know-Who..?"

"Yeah! Although, he was just a baby when he did it, but he still did it, so he's super famous! He saved the wizarding world!" Cedric rambles energetically.

"Uhm, who-who's You-Know-Who?"

Cedric pauses. "Right, you're a Muggleborn. Sorry, uh, he's basically this criminal who was trying to take over the world. He believed that only purebloods should exist and that muggles are useless and stuff, so he went to try to kill all the muggles and muggleborns. Nobody ever says his name. You just don't," he explains.

Brianna hums. "I-I see..." She observes the boy, who was nervously clutching the stool. He's only a boy, she thinks, a kid like me.


"Welcome to Slyth—"

Stef glares at the boy who spoke to her. "'Welcome to Slytherin, bla bla bla'— I don't care about whatever recruitment pitch you got for me, babe," she mutters stiffly.

"Aggressive. I am Blaise—"

"And I couldn't care less," interrupts Stef bluntly. "I just want my fuckin' food, dude."

Blaise raises a brow. "You're vulgar," he states distastefully.

"And you're still talking." She finally looks at the boy with an irritated expression. "You don't seem to be understanding me. Shut up."

"It's idiotic to brush off a useful resource."

"Hun, if I were smart, I'd be in Ravenclaw," she smiles cruelly, "and if you were useful, I'd care about you." She pauses. "Oh, and no offence."

"That's still offensive," he points out.

"The truth hurts, sweetheart." Stef turns to face Dumbledore, who had gotten to his feet.

"Welcome," he says, "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!

"Thank you!"

As the crowd cheers, Stef blanches. "He crazy."

Blaise looks at Stef oddly. "He's the most powerful wizard in the world."

"Doesn't mean he ain't crazy."


"Giraffe," a brunet boy spits, "you're too tall. You're a giraffe. It's freaky."

Caleb stared at the boy blankly.

"And you're hair," a different boy with green eyes says, "it's disgusting."

"Way too long."

"He needs a haircut." The green-eyed one tilts his head. "Why isn't he saying anything?"

"Oh, don't tell me he's a coward!" The first boy rolls his eyes. "You aren't a coward, are you?"

"Yeah, you're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"Wimps don't belong in Gryffindor." The brunet smiles at him cruelly. "What's your name, coward?"

Caleb doesn't say anything.

A third boy jumps in. "Hey, back off him, will you?" This boy was older than them, at least sixteen, with red hair.

The green-eyed boy keeps quiet, but the other ignores him.

"Hey, giraffe, what's your name?"

"Leave him alone," states the redhead.

The idiot quiets down.

Caleb shoots a fake smile at the brunet. "You were brought up in a competitive family, weren't you? Orphaned, most likely, and you have multiple siblings who bully and boss you, causing you to have issues with authority, and take out your rage and insecurity at being...weak? On other people.

"And you," Caleb says, addressing the other bully, "you're just tagging along, aren't you? You two have known each other since before Hogwarts-neighbours? Childhood friends? You're bullied around by the insecure imbecile, so you just do what he says. Likely partially because of your loyalty. You'd have done better in Hufflepuff, I bet. But, the other boy got sorted before you, right? So you asked to be in the same house as him?

"Am I wrong?"

The two boys stare at him.

The insecure idiot shakes his head. "No, Eric helps me because he likes me. He has fun with me. And my sisters aren't the bosses of me, I can do whatever I want. They can't boss me around, they're girls," he sneers.

Caleb raises a brow. "Wow. I'm not gonna even bother to point out the sexism in that sentence; it's so blatantly wrong that even a blind man could see it."

The redhead glares at the insecure, idiot sexist before him. "My mother would beat you for saying that. She's the strongest man I know."

The lackey butts in. "Mike, we should stop."

"Eric," the sexist boy- Mike- says. "Shut it."

"Your friend's the smart one, I'd bet," the redhead quips.

Mike glowers.

"Mike, please, don't," Eric pleads.

"Fine."

"Move," the redhead demands."

"What?"

"Move. Get out of my sight."

Eric sighs. "Mikey, please. Leave it."

Mike growls before getting to his feet, retreating with a forceful stride. Eric smiles apologetically, before scurrying after his friend.

The redhead sighs. "Was that harsh?"

Caleb blinked. "Are you talking to me?"

The older boy barked a laugh. "Yeah, who else?"

The blonde pauses. "I dunno, an imaginary friend?"

"As if." The teen chuckles. "Name's Charlie. Charlie Weasley. What about you?"

"Caleb Dempsey."

Charlie grins. "Well, nice to meet you, kid. Tell me if those bigots bother you again; I'll sic my little brothers onto them."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. My little twin brothers are bloody devils, I'd say. Wherever they go, chaos follows. Or, rather, they are chaos." He chuckles. "Little pranksters they are."

"Ah. I have a little sister."

"So do I! How old is she?"

"Well, more like I'm going to have a little sister. It'll be a while yet, though."

"Ooh, exciting. Well, mine's almost your age. She'll be attending Hogwarts next year."

"So," Caleb says. "What year are you? Clearly not a first year.

Charlie smiles. "Clearly not. I'm in my last year, actually. I'll be gone after this one."

"Huh. What are you going to do after?"

"Dragonology. Hands down."

Caleb blinks slowly. "...Dragons. Not a lot of people have the guts to do that!" Caleb grins. "My favourite is the Chinese Fireball! They're pretty clever," he gushes. His smile falls off his face. "Ah...but, didja know that the mortality rate for dragonologists is pretty high?"

"Yeah, I do. Did plenty of research a while back. Started an apprenticeship in summer. I'll be going back after I graduate."

"Back where?"

"Romania."

"Huh. I have no clue where that is."

Charlie beams. "Pretty far, I'll tell you that."


"Oh, you're awake."

London blinks. "Who are you."

"Madame Pomfrey, the matron." The woman sat next to him. "I had to magically induce a state of unconsciousness so you would calm down. Is there some type of medical condition you have that we're unaware of?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's mundane, barely an issue," he lies easily.

"Oh, do you take me for an idiot? Even if most of wizarding kind ignores muggle discoveries, I do check in from time to time. I'm well aware that it's a...mental illness, was it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What could I do to aide you? That episode was part of it, correct? How can we avoid this happening again?"

"I can handle it, ma'am," London states coolly. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself," he lies once more.

"I understand that you are independent, Klement, but please-" the woman stops herself, sighing. "You know what? Fine. However, could we speak about the other condition you've informed us of, the one regarding your-"

"With all due respect- which is none, by the way- back off."

London then resolutely shut his mouth.


Charlie and Caleb chatted until the prefect, Percy, took the first years away.

Caleb ended up sharing a room with the two bullies from before- Mike and...Eric, was it?

"Yeah..." Eric smiles hesitantly. "If you really want to, you can call me Rob. Eric is my middle name."

Caleb raises his eyebrows skeptically. "And people just call you by your middle name?"

"Uh...yeah?"

"Okay." Caleb shrugs.

"Hey, Giraffe." Mike scowls. "My friends call me Mike. You call me Michael."

"Sure thing, Michael."

"Alright, Dumb-sey."

"Ah. Dempsey, Dumb-sey, I get it. Very funny. Much wow," the blond deadpans.

Michael glares at him before sharply turning and unpacking.

"Don't mind him," says Eric. "He's not really that mean. He's just hurt."

"I know. Doesn't mean I gotta like it."

"Can you please just- just give him a chance?"

"It's not like you were exactly discour-"

"Dumb-sey, you bugging Er?" Michael questions sharply. "You cross him, you cross me, we clear?"

Caleb puts his hands up placatingly. "Crystal."


Stef stares blankly at the gossiping girls in front of her.

"My name's Marcia Strobel, minor Pureblood," one of the girls says. She was gorgeous. Her hair was a pale blonde, parted in the middle and pulled back into twin braids. Her eyes were stormy gray, framed by long lashes. She had milky white skin, and an aristocratic air to her. She smiles prettily. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances."

"I'm Min Choi," a cute girl chirps with a vague lilt. She was a small Asian girl, with wide doll-like eyes and porcelain skin. Her ebony hair was pulled back into a tight elegant braid. "I'm a Halfblood," she adds quietly as if sharing a secret.

"Hello, I am Simone Horowitz," a quiet girl with a no-nonsense aura speaks. She had golden blonde hair and blue eyes, framed by square glasses. Her fair skin was speckled with freckles, and her mouth tilted downwards in a frown. "Pureblood of the House of Horowitz."

They all look to Stef.

"Uh..." Stef blinks. "Stef. McKendrick."

Simone raises a brow. "What of your blood status?"

Stef's eyes narrow. "What of it?"

The ocean-eyed girl frowns.

"Now, I suppose that status doesn't take much imperative at the moment, now does it?" Marcia interjects smoothly. "May I propose that we state our strengths?"

Min blinks, fidgeting with the green sheets of her bed. "Why?"

"Is it not obvious?" Simone says, crossing her arms. "She wants to see if it'd be worth allying with us."

Marcia smiles elegantly. "Of course. I commend your observational skills, Simone. With the Gryffindors set against us by principle, and the other houses distrusting us, the only truly reliable and possible comrades left are those of this house."

"As much as I despise working with teams, I believe you're correct."

"Well, I don't trust you," Stef states bluntly. She pauses, weighing her options. "I'm good at messing with people- screwing with their heads, sabotage."

Marcia beams- well, she smiles in a pleased manner. "I'm talented at creating connections. I have a fairly well social network for my age, and a reliable security web if necessary."

Simone closes her eyes. "I'm adequate at support and trickery, if necessary. I must say that I am adept at research."

"Well," Min trails off thoughtfully. "I'm good at making friends! And, maybe misleading them-on accident, of course."

"So," Stef says, "We got an asshole, a suck-up, a nerd, and a con." The rebellious girl shrugs. "Not bad."

"Must you word it in such a vulgar manner?" Simone questions irritably.

"To be honest? Yes."


"Hiya! I'm Maisy, and this is Tamsin! It's nice to meetcha!"

The girl, Maisy, smiles cheerily at Brianna.

"Um," Brianna starts shyly, "I-I'm Brianna..."

"Maisy, you're scaring the kid," reprimands a different girl, Tamsin. She had curly rust-coloured hair, kept out of her eyes by a hairclip. Her eyes were brown like amber, and she had scars all over her pale face. She had a patch of white medical tape on her cheek and a bandaid on her nose.

"Shut it, Tammy!" Maisy pouts. She had straight strawberry blonde hair which went to her chin, and glasses framed her chocolate eyes. "Why didja call her 'kid'? She's the same age as us!"

Tamsin rolls her eyes. She then sticks her hand out towards Brianna. "I'm Tamsin Brett. Let it be known that Maisy Collins may be an idiot, but she's a nice idiot, so give her a chance."

Brianna smiles hesitantly. "Okay," she says as she shakes Tamsin's hand.

"I hope we become good friends."


London closes his eyes as he ascends up the stairs.

"I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'm delighted to welcome you to RAVENCLAW HOUSE. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb. The windows of our common room look down at the school grounds. No other house in the school has such stunning views.

"Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else – and so do we. Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don't need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted knocker. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a question, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier has kept out everyone but Ravenclaws for nearly a thousand years—"

London stares blankly at the space beside the Prefect's head. He stifles a yawn inconspicuously.

"-I think that's nearly everything. Oh yes, our house ghost is the Grey Lady. The rest of the school thinks she never speaks, but she'll talk to Ravenclaws. She's particularly useful if you're lost, or you've mislaid something.

"I'm sure you'll have a good night. Our dormitories are in turrets off the main tower; the sound of the wind whistling around the windows is very relaxing.

"And once again: well done on becoming a member of the cleverest, quirkiest and most interesting house at Hogwarts."

London thinks about how Ravenclaw may react to his display during the sorting. He'd better brace himself for the worst.

"Thank you, Prefect," London says politely. "Please take care of me."

The Prefect nods and knocks on the Ravenclaw knocker.

"The more you take, the more you leave behind."

The Prefect opens his mouth—

"Footsteps," London states dully and the door swings open. He makes his way in easily, as most of the first years stop to stare and whisper. "The dormitories are behind the statue, correct?"

"Yes. Girls are to the left, boys to the right."

London's jaw twitches.


A/N: I sincerely apologize for the distinct lack of interesting things happening. It'll all pick up soon, I swear!

Also, I sorta just copied the Pottermore welcome thing and edited some stuff out so it wasn't so lengthy.

Edit: Decided to merge chapters together.