Diss the Claim: We don't own you! We don't want you! GO AWAY!
Story: BEGIN!
"The sky is IN the ceiling," Lydia repeated for the umpteenth time.
"Lydia, it's a charm," Katharine reiterated with the slightest hint of irritation; read: gritted teeth and a vein attempting to escape her forehead.
"No, but it's there!" Lydia protested, "Not outside!"
"Are you ready for the troll?" A familiar looking red head grinned maliciously at Lydia.
"Hi Katharine," George waved as Lydia shot off a scathing reply.
"Hey George," Katharine moved between their fighting siblings in a passive aggressive attempt to get them to knock it off.
"Ickle firstiekins!" A stout, pug nosed ghost like thing called, a nonsensical not-so-welcoming poetic verse followed.
"Peeves!" A severe looking teacher yelled, "Get out of here! You know you're banned from the Great Hall! First years, follow me for the sorting. Neat single file lines, all of you. I don't tolerate disorderly conduct." She then looked straight at Lydia and Fred, "Separate at once!"
Fred and Lydia lowered their hands from each other's necks slowly. They were immediately dragged in opposite directions by their respective twins, but, to their displeasure, they ended up next to each other in line, behind their pleasantly chatting siblings.
The following walk through the Great Hall resulted in several attempted trippings, a few stumbles, and many muttered curses.
"Now, when I call your name, sit on this stool, and the Sorting Hat will sort you," the fierce seeming witch directed curtly.
"I wanted to sing," the Hat mumbled dejectedly.
"Hat? You said troll!" Lydia kicked Fred in the shins as Katharine' breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"Brown, Owen," The woman read off a long scroll, adjusting her glasses as she looked up expectantly.
A scruffy looking boy as unremarkable as his name scurried up to the stool and plopped down with an audible thud. The hat fell down over his eyes and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" with barely a pause. He scuttled off to the yellow table which burst into applause.
"Bulstrode, Margaret!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
This went on in a similar manner for several other students, until finally, "Gray, Katharine"
The hat had barely touched her head when it yelled "RAVENCLAW" out to the hall, causing Katharine to jump even after preparing herself for the volume of the sorting hat's voice. Lydia clapped obnoxiously and wolf whistled along with George and Fred. Lydia quickly stopped. Oddly, Marcus Flint was applauding with more energy than he'd shown previously. Almost...
Triumphantly...
"Gray, Lydia!" The professor called.
Lydia strode fearlessly up and hopped unceremoniously onto the stool. The hat seemed mildly irritated as it ruminated on Lydia's fate. At least for the next seven years. One could only imagine that Lydia was being difficult. After another moment of careful thought the hat shouted "Slytherin!" Its voice had a strangely frustrated tone.
The Slytherin table burst into polite applause with the notable exception of Marcus Flint, who appeared as iif someone had kicked his puppy. Unfortunately for Lydia's continued health and Flint's sanity, the first open seat Lydia saw was directly across from him. The other Slytherins greeted Lydia and then everyone returned their attention to the Sorting. Marcus Flint skillfully averted his eyes from Lydia and tried very hard to disguise his displeasure at the current seating arrangements.