The Hogwarts Express juddered and Bagsy Beetlehorn, tripping over her own feet, thudded against a compartment door. August had flown by faster than Bagsy had liked, and she was already on her way to school.

'Watch it!' An annoyed student yelled out at Bagsy, whose belongings had tumbled to the floor.

'S-sorry!' Bagsy spluttered, dropping sharply to her knees and collecting her upended luggage, chirping pet rats and textbooks, old pages having spilled out of them and crowding the thin passageway. She'd barely begun gathering her possessions when a voice caught her off guard.

'Wingardium Leviosa.' Papers, clothes and rats alike rose into the air around Bagsy, whose eyes widened. 'We haven't arrived at Hogwarts yet and someone has already become a nuisance,' the voice scoffed.

Bagsy got to her feet, dusting her trousers before grabbing a handrail, determined not to fall a second time. 'Thank you!' she breathed. An East Asian girl with pale skin, who was a head taller than Bagsy, stared down with icy brown eyes that inspected her with the contempt of a crow. Long, straight black hair reached down the girl's back so that when she sharply looked Bagsy up and down it swished behind her.

'You're blocking the way,' the girl stated.

Bagsy turned hurriedly and saw an annoyed group of what she assumed were Gryffindors, if her sister's information about the house system was correct, tapping their feet impatiently. One bared his teeth. 'Right! Sorry!' Bagsy squeaked, ducking into the nearest empty compartment. She'd been searching for one and cursed that it had taken a tumble to find it. The purpose of finding an empty compartment was to avoid social mishaps, not cause them.

Bagsy's things floated in through the open door and arranged themselves neatly on one of the seats, the luggage closing with a pop around her newly folded clothes. The girl, who put her own luggage on the seat opposite, slid the door shut as the Gryffindors walked past with a grunt or two. Bagsy swallowed, twiddled her thumbs and sat down next to her bag, peeping inside to check everything was there.

'I didn't steal anything,' the other girl snapped, taking her own seat and crossing her legs and arms. Her eyes narrowed. 'You're welcome.'

Bagsy flushed. 'Thank you!' she blurted instinctually, despite already having thanked her.

'You have some interesting stuff.' The sleek-haired girl, flicking her wand this way and that as she spoke, indicated the suitcase at Bagsy's side.

'It's my sister's old potions stuff from when she was at Hogwarts.' Bagsy opened the case and fished out the delicate components of her sister's potion making kit. It looked ancient, was rusted in places and had glass vials in odd shapes and colours. 'I only got it off of her because I traded her my new broomstick.'

Looking Bagsy up and down with her icy brown eyes, the other girl finally seemed to deem her interesting enough to introduce herself to. 'I'm Mezrielda Glint,' she said stiffly, as though introductions came rarely to her.

Bagsy blinked, a thousand tiny potion making pieces balanced in her arms, before extending her hand to Mezrielda. 'Bagsy Beetle-'

'Arresto Momentum!' Mezrielda's wand snapped towards the falling potion kit. A few pieces survived the impact with the help of the spell, but the vials splintered across the floor. 'For merlin's sake…' Mezrielda sighed.

Bagsy shrunk in on herself. 'Sorry…'

'Don't be sorry, be less stupid,' Mezrielda snapped. She put her hands on her hips and stared at Bagsy expectantly. 'Well, go on, then.'

'Go on what?'

'Fix them.'

Bagsy grimaced, 'Uh, sure…' She searched her robe, folded next to her, for her hornbeam wand. Finding it, she pointed it stiffly down at the shattered vials and scrunched up her face, willing with all her might for the items to mend themselves. Nothing happened.

'Reparo,' Mezrielda grumbled. The vial pieces jittered across the floor and back together and Bagsy went to gather them. 'I think I better had, don't you?' Mezrielda's voice was harsh. Bagsy bit her tongue and nodded. Once Mezrielda had carefully examined each piece and returned it to Bagsy's bag she sat back down. 'Your name?' Bagsy got the sense Mezrielda was bored with her already.

'B-Bagsy Beetlehorn,' she managed, looking down at her lap. There was silence for a long time, and she turned out the window and miserably watched the landscape pass by. She didn't want this. Her sister had informed her, when she wasn't shooting insults her way, that Hogwarts had too many students, too much noise and far too little time for personal endeavours. Bagsy had been content with shutting herself in her room to mess around with potions, safe in isolation, but now she had to leave her beloved cocoon and socialise. It was a necessary evil to learn magic, but not one she had to like.

Lamenting on her homesickness cut into the journey time so considerably that when Mezrielda's voice broke through Bagsy's thoughts the sky was beginning to darken.

'You're thinking about something.'

Bagsy supposed she could navigate a short conversation. 'Yes. My home.'

Bagsy saw Mezrielda's interest evaporate. 'Great.'

'I miss it.'

'Most people do,' Mezrielda was looking out the window now, too. For all her social ineptitude, Bagsy knew bitterness when she saw it.

'Not you?'

Mezrielda sneered. 'Not in the slightest. Hogwarts is a place to grow into adulthood, to better the rotted world our predecessor left us and to fix the mistakes of our elders and corrupt predecessor. It is not for shrinking back towards childhood.'

Bagsy laughed, and Mezrielda looked positively stunned. 'We're just eleven years old,' she pointed out.

Mezrielda scowled. 'I can un-mend your potions kit if I want.'

'But you won't.' Bagsy's laughter was beginning to die down. She hadn't expected to meet someone like Mezrielda. Most people were pleasant, boring, normal and loud. They made little sense, rarely said what they thought, and judged silently, with quiet distaste. Mezrielda, however, seemed like her sister and Bagsy happily realized she knew just how to handle her.

'Regrettably, I don't know that spell yet,' Mezrielda huffed.

'You don't need a spell to break stuff,' Bagsy shot back.

Mezrielda tilted her head in thought. 'You're right.'

Bagsy watched as Mezrielda settled her head against the window, then thought better of it as the train jostled, shooting the wall a glare as if it had personally offended her. 'How'd you do those spells?' Bagsy asked at last, the question had been bubbling up inside of her since the first had been cast. When Mezrielda had donned her school robes they were the plain black of a first years', like Bagsy's.

Mezrielda shrugged. 'Can't everyone?'

'I can't.'

'You're clearly not a good witch to gauge average competency,' Mezrielda shot back.

Bagsy furrowed her brow. 'What?'

'Have you not ears?'

'Sure, but I have no clue what those words mean.'

Mezrielda snorted. 'Of course, you wouldn't.'

Bagsy felt righteousness flare within her that only showed its face when her sister was calling her names. 'Maybe I don't care if I'm not good with words.'

'Maybe I do!' Mezrielda's voice was raised.

'Why?'

Mezrielda paused, leant forward in her seat, her cold eyes fixed on Bagsy's face. A smile broke out on her features. 'Good question,' she admitted, reclining back in her seat and laying her hands neatly in her lap. 'I suppose I hold others to too high a standard. I forget, not everyone is as gifted as I.'

'Modest as well as pretentious,' Bagsy arched an eyebrow.

'Now who's using big words?'

Bagsy let out a laugh.

The conversation drifted comfortably from one subject to the next and Bagsy felt a little more at home with a consistent set of insults and jibes sent her way. It was like sitting around the dinner table and fighting over the remains of the Dumplings and Dollops take-away.

Bagsy couldn't help the weight of disappointment when Mezrielda asked her what house she intended to be in.

'Well… I…' Bagsy trailed off. This was the one thing she and her sister had disagreed upon. It was clear to Bagsy that the houses didn't matter. She had no intention of partaking in house activities, or making small talk with her dorm mates, so what difference did it make? Bontie had strongly disagreed; Ravenclaw was clearly superior, in her eyes, as they were the most intelligent, according to her, and the most likely to listen to reason, even if they were still insufferable. 'Honestly, I don't care.'

Mezrielda looked impressed. 'First person I've met who agrees with me.'

'What? You mean, you don't care, either?' Bagsy asked in disbelief.

Mezrielda shrugged. 'I don't get along with anyone anyway, so it doesn't matter where I get sorted.' A pensive look crossed her face. 'Though, I have to admit, I'm not too keen on Hufflepuff. They feel fake to me.'

Bagsy nodded her head, understanding completely. 'All smiles and sweet talk, but only to your face.'

Mezrielda smirked. 'Precisely!'

The disappointment from earlier forgotten, Bagsy Beetlehorn bought some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Ghost floss, gorging on her sugary snacks until the train pulled to a stop at Hogsmeade station. Mezrielda, turning her nose up at the 'childish food', only got herself a small pumpkin juice which she sipped demurely until their arrival.

Steam rose around them as the two first years stepped off, burdened with their luggage. Bagsy had to stop several times to recover dropped items and Mezrielda chided her the entire walk to the boats.

'My sister said our stuff would be taken to our rooms for us…' Bagsy moaned as they approached the shore. One antique-looking wizard with an orange and brown coat had slowly walked them to the vessels and watched with misty eyes as they boarded.

'I heard so, too,' Mezrielda murmured, glancing around, puzzled. Besides the antique wizard no other teachers were present. 'Odd.'

When it was Bagsy's turn to step onto a boat it took her a few seconds to build up the courage. The rocking of the boat nearly sent her headfirst into the shallows but Mezrielda, with a disapproving grunt, grabbed her shoulders and steadied her.

'How recently did you learn to walk?' she hissed, stepping into the boat after her and sitting to her side.

Bagsy shrugged. 'Probably the same time you learnt your manners.'

Hogwarts castle, a black phantom against the night sky, loomed ahead of them. Bagsy shivered from more than cold as the yawning mouth of the cliff face below the building swallowed them whole.

'Students remain here, please,' the old wizard instructed in a quiet voice as the first years who, having successfully alighted into the castle, crowded onto the steps before two giant wooden doors. 'Leave your luggage in an organized fashion, if you wouldn't mind...'

Bagsy could hear the mutterings of people beyond the giant doors. 'You got a spell to hear what's going on in there?' she asked, nodding at the door as the old man shuffled towards it. Mezrielda didn't respond, which Bagsy took as a no, and a grin spread across her face. 'Well, well, well… looks like Miss Perfect-'

'Shut it if you want to keep your tongue,' Mezrielda shot back at her.

'WELCOME TO HOGWARTS!' a booming voice thrust itself at the first years. Bagsy let out a yelp of fear as the gargantuan doors flung open with a bang and a large hall revealed itself. Mezrielda didn't hesitate, barging past students to get into the room, whilst Bagsy hung back, terrified of the loud noise and large number of eyes staring back at her through the open doorway. The rest of the first years, Bagsy unwillingly included, followed Mezrielda, making their way through the doors which slowly closed behind them.

Four long tables lined the room and something hot and sticky landed on Bagsy's shoulder. She glanced up to see countless candles floating mid-air and beyond them the night sky. Bagsy gaped up at the stars, and then at a small wooden stool positioned in front of the teachers' table, and finally at the gathered four houses.

'Allthorn, Arice.' A young man with a goatee, square glasses and dark hair beamed down at them, reading names from a scroll. His voice projected loudly, and he sounded alive with excitement. It was his voice who'd nearly shocked Bagsy into a ghost, she realised.

Arice, presumably, walked forward and sat on the stool. The man placed an old hat on the boy's head and, when it yelled quite unexpectedly with a following roar from the Gryffindor table, Bagsy jumped nearly out of her skin.

'Alden, Tod.'

A tall boy with a confident smirk waltzed over to the stool and sat down. The hat took a little longer with him, and Bagsy assured herself the yelling had ended, and was horribly shocked when the hat screeched out again.

'Slytherin!'

Cheers and fists slamming on wood sounded in the great hall and Bagsy covered her ears. If Hogwarts was always this loud, she may as well board the next train home. From the chatter she heard behind her, whatever this hat was, people were calling it the sorting hat. That was enough for Bagsy to guess what it did.

All too soon it was her name being called.

'Beetlehorn, Bagsyllia.' A few chuckles sounded at her name and Bagsy, hunched over and staring at the floor, walked stiffly to the stool. Her foot caught on one of the steps and her heart seemed to fall out of time with her body as she fell, but she heard someone whisper arresto momentum from behind and felt her body slow. With a few extra seconds to react Bagsy, stumbling, regained her balance and carefully reached the stool, sitting down.

The hall disappeared as the hat descended over her eyes and she couldn't help a squeak of surprise as darkness engulfed her. A second squeak escaped her when a voice filled the void she now found herself in.

'Bagsyllia Beetlehorn. What a silly name… Yes, you hate it, don't you?'

'It's not that bad…' Bagsy thought indignantly, even if the hat had been correct.

'I see… happy with your lot, then? Yes… I can see that your lot is quite a lot indeed, in ways you don't even know yet. Your lot could even become other people's lot, but I won't talk on what you're not ready to understand.'

Bagsy, confused beyond words, and guessing this thing could read her thoughts, fought them back. She didn't like the idea of anyone poking into her mind and spouting nonsense in response. In squashing her thoughts down, she discovered that she didn't want to be put in Hufflepuff. Where this new preference had appeared from, she had no clue, but either way, she wanted this new feeling kept out of the hands of this… thing.

'Content to work. Not one for people… A recluse… But I see a deep care there, as well. A quiet selflessness. Many thoughts given to the feelings and hardships of others. A nosiness, perhaps? Oh, but then cowardice in spades. Spades and spades and spades of the stuff. And…' The voice was quiet for a second. The sorting hat was approaching its decision.

Fearing her thoughts were making the hat's choice harder and so would make the whole ordeal longer, Bagsy fought her desire against being sorted into Hufflepuff into the depths of her mind.

'And a talent unlike any I've seen… a dedication to new ideas and a mind for it, too. It's a clear one, yes. A bit unorthodox, but I've no qualms in placing you in…' Bagsy felt a momentary regret. '…HUFFLEPUFF!'

The Hufflepuff table cheered as the hat was pulled from her head and light seeped back into her vision. She felt overwhelmed by the warm colours of the grand room and the clashing noises of the other students and her stomach sank as she made her way to the Hufflepuff table, her black robes magically changing to the Hufflepuff colours. She couldn't help noticing the betrayed glare of Mezrielda as she passed her. Feeling ashamed, Bagsy averted her eyes.

Some older students patted her on the back in congratulations as she sat in an empty space on the bench. Bagsy hunched over, giving small nods of appreciation but failing to meet their eyes.

When the hat was eventually placed on Mezrielda Glint's head the hall fell silent and Bagsy looked up, watching for what felt like forever. Even the young man who had been administering the hat and calling names looked perplexed as well, as if such a prolonged quiet were abnormal.

Finally, what felt like ten minutes later, the hat called out. Bagsy's stomach sank only further when, with a deliberate look in the opposite direction of her, Mezrielda strode to the Slytherin table.