The next morning, Cecelia woke Benton and they walked to the Great Hall, Benton lagging behind as if she didn't quite know what was going on.

"Harry," Cecelia said, sitting down next to him, "Do you know where Shia is?"

"Shia?" said Harry blankly.

"Remember. The boy who didn't want to be in Slytherin."

"Oh, yeah. No, I don't know where he is." Cecelia looked around for a moment, thinking.

"Do you have a way of finding out where he is?" Harry wondered for a moment if he should…

"Yes, I do."

"Ok, then. Find out." Harry took a moment to realize that she meant right then.

"Ok. Follow me to the Gryffindor common room." Harry ran out of the Great Hall and Cecelia and Benton, who now seemed more awake, jumped after him.

They stopped in front of a painting of a very fat lady in a pink dress and Harry said, "Cedric Diggory." That password had been Harry's idea. Finally, after more than two years, it was starting not to hurt as much to think about Cedric.

The painting swung forward to reveal a circular hole in the wall.

"Wait here," said Harry. He ran up to his dormitory and got the Marauder's Map out of his trunk. He ran back down the spiral staircase, but just before he reached the common room, he stopped and pulled out his wand and, tapping the map, said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," thinking it wasn't true.

"Ok," said Harry, closing the portrait hole behind him, "I know where he is. Follow me." According to the map, Shia Zachary was in a classroom on the third floor. Harry walked as quickly as possible toward the pacing dot, half trying to hide the map from Cecelia and Benton. However, it soon became apparent that neither of them cared about the map, or how Harry knew where to look for Shia.

Harry opened the door without hesitation. Cecelia and Benton followed him into the room, and there they found the skinny, blonde boy who had cried over his house placement. He looked at them as if they had come to tell him what his future would be. He looked on the brink of more desperate tears. Cecelia stepped forward and Shia moved toward her. She held out her arms and he moved into them.

"I don't know what I'm going to do!" He cried, "I researched the four houses before I came. My father looked at my notes and said I would undoubtedly end up in Slytherin. I told him I did not want to be in Slytherin. He said instincts of self-preservation were in my blood, and if I didn't get into Slytherin, he'd test my self-preservation abilities with his belt." Harry made an indignant noise. "My dad isn't even a wizard! Hogwarts is supposed to be my thing! But my dad just has to make it his and he has to make me do it his way." Cecelia moved so she could look at his face.

"So. You're in Slytherin. What would happen if your dad found out?"

"He would gloat. And he would use the fact that he was right as an excuse to abuse me a little more."

"But you'd rather not be in Slytherin."

"That's right." Shia scowled. "But I don't want to be in Hufflepuff. I know what Professor McGonagall said I could be in Hufflepuff. It's because Helga Hufflepuff was the least discriminating of the four founders of Hogwarts. Slytherin was the most discriminating. But it wasn't a problem until he tried to make the whole school, and not just his own house, meet his standards," Shia said disgustedly.

"I guess it really doesn't matter which house I'm in, as long as it's not Slytherin."

"What did the Sorting Hat say to you?" said Harry, stepping forward. Shia looked at him in confusion.

"It didn't say anything. It just shouted 'Slytherin'. Cecelia looked at Harry. Benton stared in between them, idly talking in the scene.

"The Sorting Hat talked to me before it decided," Harry explained, "It said I would do well in Slytherin, but I told it I didn't want to be in Slytherin, so it put me in Gryffindor." Shia looked excited.

"Did the Sorting Hat say anything to you?" he asked Cecelia. He also looked awkwardly at Benton, wondering if she was paying attention.

"We weren't Sorted," said Benton, as though in her sleep, "We're not really students." She looked directly at Shia. "We just live here with Albus Dumbledore."

"Oh. Well, if…if I tell the Sorting Hat that I don't want to be in Slytherin, it might put me somewhere else, right?"

"Yes," said Cecelia, standing up. "So, let's go to Albus Dumbledore's office. That's where the Sorting Hat lives." Cecelia led the way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Banana Bread." Cecelia felt Shia's jolt of surprise. They stepped onto the moving staircase and Cecelia knocked on the door at the top. Professor Dumbledore threw the door open. He looked slightly confused.

"Hello! What can I help you with?"

"Shia wants to use the Sorting Hat again," said Benton, staring at the floor.

"Ah. Well, come in." Cecelia walked in with Shia and Harry followed. Benton stood in the doorway for a moment, and when the others turned to look at her, she said, "I'm going to go…." There was a moment of silence in which everyone wondered what was up with her.

"She's probably just feeling detached from the world again," said Harry.

"No," said Cecelia, "She's leaving for some purpose. I'll ask her about it later."

Shia was reaching tentatively for the Sorting Hat. Harry walked over, picked it up, and put it on Shia's head.

"Oh," said the hat aloud, "I see I was mistaken before…. You certainly don't belong in Slytherin. That would be like throwing someone who can't swim to the sharks. But if not Slytherin, it'll just have to be Hufflepuff." Shia made movements of protest. "Don't let that get you down, young friend! You'll have all the same opportunities for learning and I know you'll have some excellent friends to help you along the way," it said, indicating Harry and Cecelia.

Harry looked around just then and saw Dumbledore sitting in a chair on the other side of the office, watching them with that familiar twinkle behind his glasses.

"Sir," said Harry as he moved toward Dumbledore, "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Many students have been unhappy with their house assignments. Most of them got used to it, but a few have been allowed to switch." Dumbledore looked back to Shia and Harry turned around, too. Shia was holding the hat, unsure of what to do. Harry went to take the hat from him but Cecelia got there first. She gently lifted the hat from Shia's hands and placed it not exactly where it had been before.

"Why don't you put it on?" said Shia. Cecelia stopped. What would be the good of being Sorted?

"Remember what you said? That it doesn't matter what house you're in, as long as it's not Slytherin? Well, I think it doesn't matter at all. I already know what kind of person I am. I don't need the hat to tell me. And I don't care to join a Quidditch team or become a prefect, so being in a house would be pointless."

"Then why do I have to be in a house?"

"Let us hope," said Dumbledore, approaching them, "That before your time at this school is over, this practice of sorting students into houses will be abandoned."

"I remember the Sorting Hat saying we shouldn't do it!" said Harry excitedly.

"Yes. And now, you, Harry and Shia, should get to your classes. Here are your schedules." He handed them each a piece of parchment. "Cecelia…"

"See you later!" said Cecelia, with a friendly, left-handed salute. And the three of them left Dumbledore to whatever he would do.


Harry, Cecelia, and Shia walked down to the entrance hall. Cecelia and Harry turned toward the passage that lead to Potions class. As she reached the passage, Cecelia turned to watch Shia leave through the front doors. But he wasn't there. He was back at the foot of the marble staircase, looking apprehensively in their direction.

"What's wrong, Shia?" said Cecelia, walking back toward him.

"I—I don't know where to go."

Cecelia left to help Shia find his Herbology class, and Harry continued onto Potions. He found Benton sitting in front of the door to the dungeon classroom.

"A castle is such a silly place to have a school," she said, "To live even." She stood up. "Where is Cecelia?"

"She's with Shia. Benton, where are your parents?" Benton was quiet, as if the question were a difficult one.

"I can't answer that question."

"Why not?" asked Harry, surprised.

"My parents are dead."

"At least they're not insane," said Harry, thinking of the Longbottoms.

"Uh…what?"

"Well, wouldn't it be worse if your parents were alive, but thoroughly insane?"

"I don't know."

"Ok. Look, I've got to go to class," said Harry, gesturing towards the classroom.

"I'll go with you, incase the teacher wants to be mad at you for being late. I can tell him…you were with Dumbledore." Harry raised his eyebrows at the small, defenseless thirteen year old girl.

"I don't think he'll care what you have to say." But Benton seemed determined to go, so Harry pushed the door open, and a great many people looked up as they entered.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, "Where have you been?"

"Where, indeed?" inquired Snape.

"I've been in Professor Dumbledore's office," said Harry, looking at Snape defiantly.

"Take your seat," said Snape, looking disappointed.

"Why were you in Professor Dumbledore's office?" asked Hermione as Harry and Benton sat down at her and Ron's table. Harry told them what had happened.

"Justin will be glad to hear it," said Neville.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Shia is Justin's cousin. He was very worried about him. I heard him talking about it this morning at breakfast." Harry frowned.

"I didn't hear anything."

"It was after you left."

"Work on your potion, Harry!" said Benton, tugging on Harry's sleeve. Harry looked up and saw Snape coming menacingly his way, and bent quickly over his cauldron. After a few minutes, he looked over at Neville, remembering his conversation with Benton. Her parents were dead…. Harry felt a kinship to Benton, and this new information had stiffened his resolve. He was going to find out what was going on with Benton.