Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters and settings belong to J.K.Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Diggory, Cedric
I could see the hall's reaction straight away. The Slytherin's didn't seem to care and they were almost laughing- especially the deatheaters, well, the ones I thought were deatheaters. Children of them anyway.
The Ravenclaws and Gryffindor's were both reacting in the same way. A slight indifference mixed with partial disgust and the rest made up of whatever personal emotions they were feeling. The Hufflepuff's all seemed to be in a mood with me already. They would probably be in even more of a mood later on after they had actually heard the sorting.
"Diggory, Cedric."
Okay then. Hurry up. Which house are you going to be in then?
Excuse me?
I said 'which house are you going to be in then?'
I think that you are the thing that is supposed to decide that, not me.
Yeah, well...
Yeah? Well?
It's not always like that you see...
It should always be like that. What is the point of you being here if you are not even going to do what you are supposed to do? You might just as well, pick a strip of paper from a hat.
OI! There's no need for language like that young man.
Language like what?
Like... That.
I'm sorry, I am not really understanding you at this moment.
Stop being a smart-arse.
Why should I?
Look- I am very good at my job.
Job? Do they pay you for this? Maybe you should be looking for a new vocation. 'His voice was becoming more sarcastic with each comment. Now I was starting to really get annoyed.'
Look you...
You seem to say the word 'look' a lot. Maybe you should be an optician, come to the hat optician, stick me on your head and I'll ask you to decide what is wrong with your eyesight.
Oi...
Or a policeman- Oi- stop, yes you there, I think that you have some explaining to do mister. Stick me on your head and tell me what you have done wrong- I can't really be bothered to find out myself.
That's gone far enough...
Or a councillor. Now, I know that you have some deep emotional problems here. Maybe you should talk to me about them and then analyse them yourself.
Your father...
Huh?
Ha- your father, quidditch, urrm, NEWTS, OWLS, your house. How's that for a physiological profile!
That's what they do for criminals.
Yeah- and, by the way, that's how you are. If whinging was a punishable offence then let me tell you sonny, they would reinstate the death penalty just to get some peace.
What do you know. 'Now he was just plain sneering at me.'
Now, I don't know what your problem is... Oh yes I do... Your over-enthusiastic father, not getting into a quidditch team, not doing well in your NEWTS or OWLS and your family not accepting your wanted house. That's why you wanted to make me choose. It won't work, just to let you know.
What won't?
Your plan to make me put you in a different house. You do belong where you already chose. It will be quite strange as well- I don't think that they had someone who will stand out for ages.
What do you mean by that!
Oh don't act all defensive again- it just makes your face look funny. Look- we all know where you want to go so why not put you in there and save us both some time.
Fine then.
I do suppose that they have the worst quidditch team- you know that I know that you know that you'll get in there. Good house to pick, you'll outshine anyone in it without having to try, mind you, anyone would.
Hang on a minute, I could get into a different house's quidditch team!?
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
I could see them glaring at me already. I don't know why- I had told them the truth. I think that he would have preferred to be in a different house- if he had thought that he would be able to stand out in it. Mind you... Parents.
I think that the hall was getting a bit grouchy with me again. Which was why I chose the next sorting that I did. I think that it was the wrong one giving the circumstances though- It was one of the most literally uncomfortable sortings that I had done for a lone while.
Professor Sprout.
A/N: Sorry if I went a bit overboard on the '...' And '-' Next chapter should be up soon.