A/N I just wanted to give another thank you to everyone, especially the reviewers. The truth is that I feel obligated to make some kind of comment to let all of you know that I am paying attention to all of your reviews. I should also note that Harry Potter finally makes an appearance in this story. As another aside, Grizabella asked about accents. I talked to a friend who has a vague knowledge of the subject. (He has lived in the US for several years.) His experience with his family is that Malcolm's will always have an American accent, although it may soften. He would, however, quickly pick up on the local idioms, unlike Hal or Lois who are already set in their speech patterns. It also makes you wonder that I would continue to think about something like this.


CHAPTER TWELVE: THE SORTING


"Reese, wake up," a voice said. "You're at the school."

Reese woke up and found himself in the back of a car, looking out the open window at a vaguely familiar man.

"Where am I?"

"Glen Levitt Academy," Hector Filch said. "Your luggage has been stored for you and you are still in time to eat."

"Cool," Reese said, "This is just like magic. Do you have a Great Hall?"

Headmaster Filch gave him an amused looked. "We do. It is called the cafeteria. I admit it doesn't sound like magic, but it does the job."

Reese's fantasy dissolved as he realized that he was not only attending a regular school, he would also be staying there after classes left out. It was going to be like terminal detention.


*

Professor McGonagall called out the first name, Euan Abercrombie, and Anthony watched in amazed delight as the Hat shouted out "Gryffindor." Euan took his seat at the end of the table but made it a point to look for Anthony and wave.

"How does the Sorting Hat work?"

Amber answered. "It looks into your head , then decides which of the houses is best for you."

"Does one house ever get more students than another? All of your tables seem equally full."

"Every year there are forty new students, twenty boys and twenty girls. Five boys and five girls go to each house. It always seems to work out. I know that my first year we only had thirty nine students, but Malcolm showed up suddenly. I always wondered if he was expected."

[She's right. I never noticed that.]

Anthony grinned at Malcolm. "And that is why Fred and George had practice doing something that never happened before."

"See that girl with the red hair?" Malcolm pointed. "She's their sister, Ginny. On the train she found out I could do magic, and they ended up making me stay."

They looked up as Mitchell's name was call. Anthony was upset that he went to Hufflepuff, but from the way they reacted at that table, it was obvious that he already had friends there. Jenny followed him onto the stool, but followed Euan to the Gryffindor table.

"There's Dewey," Dennis called out when Malcolm's brother walked up to the sorting hat. "We should hope for the best."

"It's no use," Malcolm said. "They already agreed to let him stay."

"We can still hope," Amber replied.

*

Dewey watched with trepidation as one by one the students in front of him were sorted. Finally his name was called and he walked forward quickly and sat down. The hat was placed over his head and he heard a soft voice speak.

"Yes. You're the one that they keep talking about."

"I know you can read my mind and all that but I wanted . . ."

"There's always the question of which house to put you in ."

" . . . to ask if you could put me in . . ."

"Or is it a question of how ratty a hat I am?"

"Excuse me?" Dewey asked.

"Maybe I do need a good cleaning but not by that arrogant human. Caustic, Indeed."

"Are you listening to me? I'm trying to ask you a question."

"I know what's best for him. A taste of his own medicine. That's what is needed."

"What are you talking about?"

"SLYTHERIN," the Sorting Hat called out.

"Are you crazy?" Dewey asked.

"You're an ambitious young boy. You'll do well. Move along now."

The hat came off of his head, and Dewey looked up in surprise.

"Go ahead," McGonagall encouraged, and Dewey stood up and walked over to the Slytherin table to scattered applause.

"Welcome to Slytherin," the head boy said, holding out his hand. "Draco told us you were his cousin, and it seems the rumors about you were true."

"What rumors."

The head boy looked surprised. "Surely, you knew. Draco tried to tell us two years ago that your family was pureblood but we thought he was joking. But the proof is that you are here.. Only purebloods are ever put in Slytherin."

"Oh," Dewey said, and sat down as though it was perfectly normal. "When do we eat?"

*

"I guess the rumors were true," Hermione said casually as Dewey walked to his house table."

"That he and Malcolm are purebloods," Harry asked with amusement. "What do you think, Ron."

"Dad was telling the truth," Ron said sadly as his young friend went to his enemies house.

"About what? " Harry and Hermione asked.

Ginny laughed. "My brother was hoping that Dewey would be put in Gryffindor, but it seems that blood is thicker than water."

Hermione understood. "Dewey is Malfoy's lowlife cousin?"

"NO," Ron said angrily, "Malcolm is."

"It's for the best, Ron." Harry consoled his friend. "And now we have a friend in Slytherin, to help the houses stick together."

"You're right, I suppose. I'm too hungry to argue about it anyway."

*

"Yes!" Malcolm shouted as he and EJ high-fived.

"They put him in the wrong house," Dennis said in surprise. "He was supposed to be put in Gryffindor."

"But he wasn't," EJ happily pointed out. "He's better off in Slytherin."

"But I liked him," Dennis complained.

"Don't worry," Malcolm assured him. "Dewey will be around more than you want."

Anthony smirked. "Listening to you talk makes me happy that I'm an only child."

"Go ahead," Malcolm laughed. "Make me jealous."

Anthony became serious. "That last boy also went to Slytherin," he commented as Matthew Zeller's name was called. "That would mean that Zeller . . ."

"Yeah, Fred told me. His family always goes to . . ."

[That last boy made it five for Slytherin.]

" . . . how many boys have been put in Gryffindor?"

Everyone in the group watched intently as the Sorting Hat was placed on Matthew Zeller's head.

*

Mathew Zeller smirked at Rose Zeller as his name was called. "Now I'll be rid of you and your friends and be with my own kind."

"Good Luck," Rose said, knowing it annoyed him, but he refused to show any sign he heard.

Matthew sat on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. A soft voice spoke inside his head.

"I can see it all. It's here in your head. And, uh, oh my, Slytherin would be, um, nice but . . . You're a brave boy. Off to Gryffindor with you."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"GRYFFINDOR," the Hat shouted.

The hat was lifted off his head, and Matthew looked up at McGonagall. "There's something wrong with that hat," he protested.

"Is that so?" McGonagall said. "Go over to the Gryffindor table for now. We'll deal with the problem later."

"But . . ."

"But we are all hungry. We'll eat first, then we will deal with any problems."

Matthew's stomach rumbled on cue and he readily agreed.

"Congratulations," Rose said as he walked by.

"Why, thank you, Rose. And Good Luck to you." Matthew smiled when Rose frowned at his words. At least he would be in a good mood when he sat down.

"Matt," Fred called as the boy went to sit down. "Sit with us. We need to talk to you about something."

"I plan on being in this house until the end of the meal," Matthew said angrily.

"That," George said emphatically, "is why we want to talk to you."

*

"Food," Malcolm said appreciatively, as did half the students in the hall.

Anthony gaped as the multitude of dishes appeared suddenly on the table, but moments late he was grabbing bits of this and that and filling his plate.

"Do you eat like this everyday?"

"Mhrhmph," a half dozen voices answered.

*

"You need your vegetables," The cook said.

"I was asking about desert," Reese answered.

"I can see your plate from here. If you're not hungry enough to finish what's on your plate, you're not hungry enough for desert."

"But the mashed potatoes taste terrible," Reese complained. "And I like mashed potatoes."

The cook frowned. "Those are mashed turnips."

"Turnips?" Reese frowned back. "You are a cruel woman."

*

"You claim you were supposed to be in Slytherin," Fred explained.

"Obviously," Matthew retorted.

"Of course it's obvious, Fred," George told his brother with a wink. "The Zellers are well known purebloods. They always go to Slytherin. And they supported You-Know-Who all along."

"We did not," Matthew said indignantly. "You-Know-Who didn't want supporters. He wanted followers. Father told me how those Death Eaters would talk to him about giving his 'undying loyalty.' The Zellers serve no one (the boy smirked) unless they pay for the pleasure."

"You see, George," Fred replied. "That's why Matt was put in Gryffindor. The hat wants the houses to stick together, but the Slytherins won't do it."

"I understand," George admitted. "So it puts the good Slytherins in different houses instead. Do you agree, Matt?"

"My name is Matthew," the boy insisted. "And why would I be put in the wrong house deliberately?"

"Because the hat knows," George whispered. "HE's back. Just ask Harry Potter."

"I've read the Daily Prophet," Matthew said sarcastically. "That Potter is a borderline nutter."

"Maybe," Fred told him. "You could talk to Malcolm. He was there. He saw."

"You're lying."

"Fine. When you're done eating we'll walk you over to the Slytherin table and trade you for one of their first years."

Matthew gave an evil grin. "Like Malcolm's brother?"

"And you know he's also Draco Malfoy's cousin?"

Matthew paused as doubt entered his mind. Maybe something was wrong. That muggle appeared on the train and even said so. He was put in the wrong house. And now these two scheming twins were trying to convince him that Voldemort had returned. But Matthew was ambitious and he knew how to handle any situation, even one he didn't expect.

"What do you want from me?"

Fred and George smiled. "We want you to stay and become our good friend."

Matthew smiled as the territory suddenly became familiar. "And what is in it for me?"

"Money?" Fred offered.

"I've plenty. You can't have enough."

"A new reputation?" George suggested. "You made a very poor first one to almost everybody."

"Not for a Slytherin with my breeding."

"Perhaps I can help," Lee Jordan offered. "Matthew, your father has leases on several properties in Diagon Alley and Fred and George are looking to open up a shop after they graduate. Having you as a friend would help them, especially since you and the Weasleys have the same attitude towards You-Know-Who."

Matthew snorted. "But he's gone, everyone says so."

"I don't. The Weasleys don't. Harry Potter doesn't."

"But the Daily Prophet does and the Minister does and . . .ohhh."

"What?" three voices whispered.

"Someone said something to father recently that is rather interesting in view of what you have told me. A business associate asked him if he knew where he stood." Matthew paused for effect. "I don't believe you, but I'm not calling any of you a liar. I'll leave that matter open. Now, back to business. What business are you planning on conducting?" He remembered the incident on the train. "And do I need to ask that question?"

"It's a Joke Shop," George said. "With our own creations."

Matthew's eyes grew wide with anticipation as George handed him a sample. "What does it do?"

"There's the rub," Fred explained. "We know what it's supposed to do. But we haven't been able to field test any of them."

"Them? As in more than one concoction? Then you'll need volunteers." Matthew thought quickly as he thought about numbers. "I'll talk to the other first years. I can get them to agree but you have to be able to pay."

"We can," Fred assured him.

"But," George added, "you have everyone hating you. How are you going to get them to agree with anything you suggest."

"That will be easy," Matthew prevaricated. "I was only acting that way because I was sure I was going to end up in Slytherin. I wanted to guarantee that I fit in properly. Imagine my surprise, and joy, to discover that the Sorting Hat freed me from the yoke forced upon be by my father."

"And you expect them to believe that?"

"I'll be following that line with your offer for their services. Everyone loves money. Now, how much are we talking about?"

"First," Fred asked seriously, "What are you getting out of this."

Matthew Zeller smiled widely. "The first friends that I ever made at Hogwarts are opening up a joke shop. That is what I am getting out of this."

"Impeccable logic for an eleven year old," George said to Fred, them turned back to Matthew. "Now, dear friend, let's get back to business."

*

Anthony screamed.

"You're not supposed to be here," Sir Nicholas said as he eyed the muggle boy.

"He's a guest," Dennis said. "Anthony, this is our house ghost, Nearly, um, Sir Nicholas."

"I hope you enjoy your visit," Sir Nicholas said as he tipped his head. Anthony could only be grateful that he had nothing in his mouth at the time.

"My pleasure, Sir," the boy mumbled, unsure of how to talk to a ghost.

"That is what I like about this group of students," Sir Nicholas said. "They always know how to express themselves courteously. Unlike some of the older students."

[I'm guessing somebody said something. Sir Nicholas can be touchy about certain subjects.]

Anthony became used to the ghost and even managed to ask a few questions. Sir Nicholas enjoyed the attention and floated around the group until the end of desert. When Dumbledore rose to speak, the ghost excused himself and floated out of the way.

"Forbidden Forest?" Anthony asked as he listened to the short speech.

"Too many Werewolves and Giant Spiders," Colin explained. "And the Centaurs live there, as well. They're not very fond of humans."

"And what are the Dark Arts?"

"Evil Wizards," Dennis said, as everyone gave a quick glance at Malcolm.

"Are you an evil Wizard, Malcolm."

"No, but I met one a few months ago."

"What was he like?"

"Evil is a very good description. If I wanted to give a better description, I'd say very evil. Don't worry. It's not something you have to deal with."

Anthony nodded. The world of magic was not that different from his own world.

"Hem, Hem." The words filtered through the conversation and everyone turned to see a short fat pink lady at the teachers table.

[She looks familiar. I think I've seen her before.]

"That's the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Malcolm explained.

After listening for a short time, Anthony admitted, "She does sound like a teacher, and not one of the good ones. Just listen to her and nod your head and you'll pass with flying colors."

"Muggles have teachers like that?" Amber asked.

"Apparently, and so do we," EJ said, but he wasn't smiling.

"I can handle her," Malcolm smiled. "It'll be easy."

[I'll have to let Mom and Dad know. I have a plan.]

"I don't know," Amber said. "She doesn't sound very friendly."

"All it takes to control someone like that is to make them trust you completely."

"That leaves you out," EJ said and everyone laughed.

*

"Hey. Hey, you lot. Midgets," Ron called out.

"Is he your brother?" Matthew asked.

"That's our baby brother," Fred explained.

"Is he trying to be liked less than I am?"

Matthew joined the first years, including a mildly surprised Euan Abercrombie. "Isn't this wonderful," Matthew said. "I had prepared my self so hard for Slytherin, I never realized I had a choice."

"That was an act?" Euan said in disbelief.

"I don't believe it either," Jenny said from behind them.

"If I was sitting at that other table, I would have fit right in," Matthew said. "Fred and George helped me understand my luck."

"You're happy about being in Gryffindor?" Two voices asked.

"Why shouldn't I be. I can be myself instead of father's little puppet." Matthew paused and put his hand to his black eye. With a smile he asked, "Do I owe either of you an apology for the way I acted?"

Euan smirked. "We'll call it even."

"Thanks. I did overact on the train. I think I'll keep this as reminder to be myself instead of what people think I should be."

Euan arched an eyebrow at Jenny, who shrugged her shoulders.

*

Albus Dumbledore signaled for Malcolm to bring Anthony to the teacher's table once the feast was over. They waited for the tables to clear then walked up to the headmaster.

"Did you enjoy your visit?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was an experience I will never forget."

"Hem, Hem."

Dumbledore smiled at Professor Umbridge. "Anthony, this is our newest Professor for the Defense of the Dark Arts."

"Yes, Sir. I heard your announcement, earlier. It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Umbridge."

"I'm sure it would seem that way. Professor Dumbledore tells me that you are a muggle." "Yes Professor."

Umbridge drew her wand. "This won't hurt at all, young man. Don't be afraid. You'll awaken with fresh unmagical memories in the morning."

Albus held up his hand. "My apologies, Professor Umbridge, but we need Anthony to remember what he has witnessed here. He will be performing an important task for us at his own school. You may have heard of Malcolm?"

"He's that reckless Animagus. I know about him."

[Finally, a positive reference. I was getting tired of being called a lowlife.]

Albus smiled. "His brother, Reese, is a student at Anthony's school, and they have already formed a close bond of friendship."

[I didn't know that. And from the look on Anthony's face, neither did he.]

Albus continued. "Reese does tend to be rambunctious at times, and Anthony has agreed to help keep an eye on him."

[Just reread my last line.]

"That doesn't sound proper but I will take your word for it," Umbridge said carefully, then added in a firm voice, "until the Ministry tells me otherwise."

Albus smiled and dismissed the two boys, sending Malcolm off to his room and sending Anthony off with Argus Filch. He then firmly, but politely, ushered Professor Umbridge in the other direction.

*

Professor McGonagall walked into the common room and sent someone to the first years dorm for Matthew Zeller. The boy came down the stairs, followed by a couple of his curious dorm mates.

"I have talked with Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore. They both agree that something was wrong with the Sorting Hat. If you will come with me, I will escort you to your proper house.

Matthew Zeller was at a loss for words. He had carefully laid out a persona that would endear him to the Slytherins who's trust he needed, only to have the Sorting Hat send him to a different house. With masterful skill, he had diffused much of the anger against him, and formed a new persona of a wide-eyed youth with a controlling father who was on his own for the first time in his life. If he went with Professor McGonagall, everyone would know he was a conniving two-faced liar who would say anything to get what he wanted. His choice was obvious.

"But I've already made friends here." He looked back to see one of the boys, Euan, nodding his head.

Professor McGonagall looked at him in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me that you want to stay?"

"Please," Matthew said. If nothing else, he wanted to stay to find out why Euan had backed him up since there was nothing in it for him.

"Very well. I will inform the headmaster."

When McGonagall left, Zeller turned to the other boy. "Why did you do that?"

"Why did you tell her you wanted to stay?" Euan smiled. "I know you, Zeller. You are a schemer and a liar, but you said you wanted to stay. I'm giving you a chance to prove you deserve it. Don't let me down."

"And what's in it for you?"

"I helped a friend," Euan said, and went back upstairs.

Matthew went to bed that night wondering what kind of mess he had landed himself in.