A rather hastily concocted chapter and I'm not overly enthusiastic about how it came out. I hope someone likes it...

Title: Unit

Katie Bell had always felt as if she didn't belong.

There were several contributing factors that all lead to that same conclusion. Katie had worked it down to about five.

Firstly, her father was a Muggle and her mother a witch, which meant Katie was a half-blood and not really a part of either society. She acted like a Muggle when she went to see her father's family and acted like a witch when they visited her mother's.

She wore robes when she came in to work with her mum at the Ministry and wore jeans and t-shirts during the rest of the time because they almost always lived in Muggle neighborhoods. She read Muggle books and watched Muggle cinema and couldn't talk about it around wizards because they didn't understand. Her mother cooked and cleaned house with her wand and Katie couldn't mention that to Muggles because then she would be arrested.

Secondly, her father had been the victim of what he called contingent employment, which meant he moved where there was a job and then moved again when there was another job. Katie could remember living in seven different houses, apartments, and cottages in the first eleven years of her existence.

Thirdly, her father had insisted she become enrolled in a public school system. She had attended four different primary schools since the September after she turned five. She had had fifteen different teachers and met two-hundred and eighteen students that had been her classmates. Often times they moved during the summer so that, if she happened to become acquainted well enough with one of her peers, a promise to write was forgotten in the shuffle.

Fourthly, her Irish twin, Maria, whom was ten months older than Katie but would be in the same year at Hogwarts always seemed to usurp her in everything. Maria (a surefire Ravenclaw) was smarter than Katie. Maria (blond, thin, and tall) was prettier than Katie. Maria (who had kept in touch with several people from the different schools the sisters had attended) was friendlier than Katie. And Maria (the more athletic) was better at Quidditch than Katie – even though Maria didn't like Quidditch nearly as much as Katie did. Katie bordering on worshiped Quidditch.

Fifthly, Katie simply believed herself to be an outcast. It couldn't be helped when she would rather read than gossip. She would rather sit quietly by herself and think than play games. She would rather play Quidditch than shop for clothes. She was gawky and awkward and didn't know how to talk to people. She didn't have much in common with any of the other girls she had met. She didn't have much in common with anyone.

Secretly Katie hated it all. She hated being half-blood. She hated contingent employment. She hated primary school. She hated not liking the things other children her age liked. Sometimes she even hated Maria…but usually not for very long.

That was why she looked forward to Hogwarts. She looked forward to being able to stay in one place for the majority of the year – and stay there for seven years straight. She looked forward to having the same teachers and classmates. She looked forward to being sorted into a House where the other children would have similar interests as her. She looked forward to being sorted into different Houses than Maria (they couldn't be in the same). Most of all she looked forward to the infinitesimal possibility of finally, actually, miraculously belonging.

She mounted the Hogwarts Express more nervously than she had anticipated. She pulled away from her mother's arms and felt her dad's whiskered jaw against her cheek with a surprising amount of tears. She was positively shaking in fear and couldn't understand it, because she hadn't anything to be afraid of. This was what she wanted. This was where she belonged –

Maria ran off to sit with the first group of first-years she encountered. Katie wandered the corridor in abject uncertainty looking for someone to sit with. The sisters had made a pact not to sit with each other. Finally, after years of being her only playmate by compulsion, Maria could experience a bit of freedom.

Katie looked in on the students in the compartments she passed. She wondered what their names were, what they enjoyed doing, and if possibly they might be future friends. She searched for faces that looked promising, perhaps a head bent over an open book or Quidditch magazine. She bypassed compartments that already looked full or exceptionally rowdy. She didn't want to intrude.

Finally she came upon a compartment that only had two people within it and, having mustered as much courage as she could, she knocked on the glass to be let in. She was admitted and introductions were made.

They were both girls. Sally had blond hair and Ursula had brown. They were both first years. Sally had three older sisters, all of whom had been Hufflepuffs and Ursula had an older brother who had been a Ravenclaw. They talked about Diagon alley and a little boutique where they had both gotten dress robes the year before. They stayed until lunch and then went out to explore. Katie waited for them to return but they never did.

Katie wished for all the world that Bell wasn't so near the top of the alphabet. There were only four other first-years called before Katie. She didn't like being so in the front. It called so much more attention to her.

The hat spoke to her, which was not altogether unexpected because her mother had well-prepared her. It still made Katie jump, though, because it was much louder than she expected, much closer, as if he spoke directly into her ear. It sifted through her thoughts in a way that was not particularly comfortable.

"You shouldn't be at all surprised. It is your head I'm on."

Are you a Legilimence?

"It isn't the first time I've been asked it, but no. I am a reflection of your inner being, moreover not an external penetrator."

Oh.

"You don't get it, do you?"

Not really but Maria probably will.

"Ah yes, your sister. Older, smarter, prettier, and friendlier. If what I'm reading here is correct your sister is quite the charmer."

Not really.

"It was sarcasm, my dear. Of course I already knew that. My, my, what a façade you have built up."

Says a hat that lives through peoples' thoughts. I could say the same to you.

"Touché. Ravenclaw, perhaps?"

Maria's getting into Ravenclaw.

"I wasn't aware you were a seer, as well."

I recognize that as sarcasm.

"Fast learner, are you? Snarky little – Slytherin?"

I'm half-blood.

"You'd be surprised how many half-bloods get into there. I would know. They really aren't as bad as they all make out to be. You'd fit right in with your masks."

Katie tried not to think anything, but it was hard, as she'd never tried to shut down her brain before.

"It's harder for girls than boys, you know," said the hat understandably. "Did you know that boys literally have a box labeled 'nothing' in which they can delve their minds? I've visited it many times."

Oh?

"Indeed. So not Slytherin?"

Only as a last resort, I suppose.

"If you insist. Hufflepuff?"

Only as a later resort. That's where all the leftovers go.

There was the sound like the crumpling of newspaper and Katie wondered if perhaps the hat was laughing.

Haven't you got anywhere that I fit? Somewhere that you noticed right away?

"Well you've run me nearly out of options. You're quite neutral, aren't you? Very well…Gryffindor?"

I'm not brave.

"What is bravery? Certainly not the absence of cowardice. Do you know you told me that?"

You didn't think it up yourself?

"I've never had an original thought in my life, my dear. No, it was Albus Dumbledore – who was admittedly not as original at the age of eleven as he is now."

Oh?

"You certainly aren't much of a conversationalist. Anyway, he was trying to convince me not to put him in Ravenclaw."

It worked?

"I'm very easily swayed. After all, it isn't I who makes the final decision."

It isn't?

"I've already told you I'm merely an echo of your mind. My decision – in essence – is yours."

Before Katie had a chance to reply the hat continued, "So tell me about Gryffindor."

Even if courage is as you say – not the absence of fear –

"Don't paraphrase. It was cowardice."

What's the difference?

"Not much, really, but I can only relate to you what was the original thought."

Well anyway, I'm still not suited for Gryffindor. There are other things that matter, too. Pride and – whatever else there was.

"What is humility? Certainly not the absence of pride."

Who thought that one up?

"You did."

Me?

"Yes, you. There you go, catch it now? But we keep going off topic – tell me more about Gryffindor."

There's not much else. I just don't think I'd fit in.

"Who's to say what fits in –"

If you tell me I thought that up I'll take you off my head.

"Well if you'd stop contradicting me I might have sorted you from the start."

I don't think I've ever been admonished by a hat before.

"It is your thoughts, remember."

Katie didn't know how to respond to that, but felt uncomfortably as if she'd been one-upped by an inanimate object – or by herself, and she didn't know which was worse.

Do you normally share other people's thoughts with students? Thought Katie, like you told me what Dumbledore had told you?

"With a certain amount of age and a certain amount of fame comes a certain amount of public domain," said the hat.

So you won't tell Maria anything that you've said to me or I've said to you?

"Not at least until you're of age and a star Chaser on the Applebee Arrows."

Katie had almost forgotten it could read her mind. She blushed at the thought of all the other things that were hiding up there.

"Not to worry, nothing too shocking, my dear. But who is Christopher Dodger?"

Shut it. Besides, if you're telling the truth than you already know.

"True, true. Is he really all that attractive?"

Get on with it, please.

"That's right. We should. So, where to put you –"

So far we've decided not in Ravenclaw, not in Hufflepuff, not in Slytherin, and not –

"Not so fast. I'm still in charge here."

But you said I was the one who decided.

"Even so, I can sometimes sift through the layers and folds of your mind much better than any eleven-year-old child."

Oh. Then as it looks like I don't fit anywhere I'll give you free rein.

"Finally! I'm glad this conversation is coming to an end. I get at least one of you tiresome minds every year."

I'm sorry.

"Don't be. You can't help it – and I don't suppose the others can either. Amusingly they usually all end up in – GRYFFINDOR!"

That night in the dormitory Katie asked the other girls if any of them enjoyed Quidditch. All of them had said no, and stifled their giggles at the stack of Muggle fiction Katie unloaded from her trunk.

The next morning Katie woke to find all the other girls had already left. She dressed quietly and ate at the end of the table by herself. She got to her first class before even the teacher arrived and read the first chapter in the text book.

By the end of that first week, Katie tried to ignore that fact that her most in-depth conversation had taken place with a hat.

It wasn't a very promising beginning.

Katie attended Gryffindor Quidditch trials, not to try-out, but just to watch. She hid mid-flight up the bleachers and watched as the crowd of Gryffindor hopefuls were sorted through and discarded.

The team consisted of three seventh-years, Seeker, and two Chasers, and a very attractive fourth-year who was Keeper. They found a second-year girl as Chaser and two second-year boys as Beaters – who were twins and had red hair. It was a fair team.

Half-way through trials the captain noticed her and asked if she'd come to try-out. Katie felt her face go red. Her tongue got caught behind her teeth and all she could do was shake her head. It made her feel dizzy.

Someone said, "Merlin, Charlie, she's just a first year. Of course she hasn't."

The captain shrugged and walked away and Katie was glad no one else looked at her for the rest of the afternoon.

Katie kept to herself, studied mostly, and made friends with the books in the library. She wrote home once a week and occasional met Maria by the lake. Sometimes she ate meals with the girls in her dormitory and sometimes she ate alone.

She answered questions quietly during lessons, but made a point not to raise her hand in classes they shared with Ravenclaw.

She went back to her parents for summer holiday and found herself living in yet another flat, in an unfamiliar neighborhood, and with unrecognizable neighbors.

One night while she was washing the dishes her mum came in to ask her if there was any friend from Hogwarts she'd like over for a weekend, as Maria had already asked to have someone. Katie shook her head, no, and said all her friends were busy. One was in France, one had to work on the farm, another lived with her grandmother over the summer.

Her mum told Katie not to hesitate to ask if she changed her mind.

Katie debated with herself for weeks. First-years never got on the team but Katie wasn't a first-year anymore. Maria wasn't trying-out but Maria didn't care about Quidditch. First-years weren't allowed broomsticks but there weren't any rules like that pertaining to second-years. She wasn't good. Maybe she was good enough. It would be so embarrassing if she didn't make it. What if she made a terrible mistake? What if everyone laughed at her? What if she didn't make the right impression?

What if she made friends?

She decided she would sit in the bleachers, as she did the year before. If anyone asked her, if anyone took any notice of her, then maybe she would try-out. She made a point not to bring her broom, because she didn't want to be disappointed when no one looked her way.

There were five people on the team from the year before. There were only two places left. Seven people showed up. Katie watched as one by one were put through the paces. She could tell the captain wasn't impressed (the handsome fourth-year Keeper who was now a fifth-year).

She waited for someone who was truly good to sweep into the air and away with the competition. She waited for the captain to shout, "Alright. You're Chaser." But it didn't happen. Eventually each person had trailed away and the team collected in a disappointed huddle. Katie stood to leave.

"Hey!" shouted one of the other Chasers on the team, a girl with dark skin and hair, "You play Quidditch?"

Katie turned, wanting to see who the girl was shouting to. All five of the team members were looking at Katie.

Katie felt herself go red. Her tongue was stuck behind her teeth. Half-way through shaking her head her brain screamed at her what are you doing, you bloody idiot? Of course you play Quidditch!

Katie almost nodded her head but settled for a shrug. Noncommittal was safe.

"You come to try-out?" said the captain.

Katie almost shrugged. She nodded her head.

"Why didn't you come forward before?" said one of the Beaters, one of the twins with red hair and a wide grin.

Katie swallowed.

"What's your name?" said the captain.

"Katie," her voice wafted across the air, faintly so that she could hardly hear it. "Katie Bell."

"Well," said the captain, "do you have a broom?"

"Not with me," said Katie.

"Why didn't you bring it with you?" said the other Beater, the other twin with red hair and a wide grin.

The Chaser who had spoken before stepped forward and thrust her broomstick into Katie's hand, "Here, take mine."

Katie swept her eyes passed the five team members. She felt her hands shaking and blood rushing to her head. She felt dizzy.

The Chaser holding the broom was smiling encouragingly, daringly.

Katie grasped hold.

It was to Alicia and Angelina that Katie opened up for the first and only time about her sorting. She told them how the Sorting Hat had run through all the other houses before deciding on Gryffindor. Katie explained that that had made her feel even more that she didn't belong anywhere.

Alicia and Angelina had looked at each other and then back to her.

"Honestly, Katie, I'd say it was the only way around," said Angelina.

"Yes," Alicia agreed, "it seems to me that means you'd belong just about anywhere."

Author's note: Katie's conversation with the Sorting Hat came out a whole lot more, well, I'm sure 'intellectual' isn't the right word, because it probably isn't, but it was a bit more meandering than I first intended.