A/N: Long A/N, feel free to scroll past it.
So, first things first, since I had to re-upload both of my favorite chapters because of forgetting: J. probably has better things to do with her time then publish poorly written fanfictions (to be fair, she probably also has better things to do than read them, so I doubt she'd complain if I didn't disclaimer-it.)
Second, I'm sorry. Both for the time (I realize it's been about four months) and for the quality (it was always going to be the in-between chapter, so I tried to make it more interesting, and it just became long and pointless, and with the time it already took me, I didn't want to take any more time.)
Third, I came up with a crazy idea (sarcasm); if I want more reviews, maybe I should try actually replying to reviews (I know, crazy).
Athena's phoenix: I'm glad you like it. And I don't think they'll openly come out, because I hope to keep it pretty canon, but maybe a few people will find out.
Maskless Masquerade: "like a crackfic but somehow not irreverent and it is cohesive" is now how I phrase the tone I'm aiming for. And thank you.
1sunfun: Glad you think so.
Goofcheese: I want to, too. Let's just hope I can come up with the how.
epsi10n: Thank you, I'm hoping to do the first five years (of course, at this rate I'll be dead by the time I get to 3)
TwentyRings: Thank you. I'm really glad you think so.
So... onto the actual story. Underline is straight from the book, Italics is normally thought, Bold is clicks, and underline italics is the hat talking.
"The first years, Professor McGonagall," the huge man (half-giant?) calls.
"Thank you, Hagrid," the stern-looking woman replied.
Dare you to grab the toad, Vince clicks.
I'm not stealing the poor boy's toad, I reply.
Don't you want to know what kind it is? He replies, trying to be subtle about his smirk.
No, but you do. Ok, so I do. A little. But he wants to more.
I already know. I remember what it looks like.
That's what he says, but I've known Vince since he was three months old. He's smirking, but it's a tiny bit forced, and he's touching his lips. Plus, he shifted his weight towards me. So he's lying. But he's got to remember what it looks like. He was staring at it like it was his life and joy. So he doesn't recognize it. It's a weird one. Why didn't he say so?
Liar.
I'll grab it if you wham into him.
Reverse?
Nope.
...Fine. Damn.
...Fine. Victory!
Not that I'm grabbing, I could care less which job I have. It's that he's whamming. If we're gonna pull this off, Greg'll have to be aggressive. So we get into positions. I try to get in front of him, while Greg gets to the side opposite to the toad. Then he freezes. Don't panic don't panic don't panic! We have to be able to pull this stuff off!
Just do it.
The floor.
What? Just wham him!
The floor has scratches.
So?
Something was dragged across it!
You're just trying to not-
Why would someone drag something at a school for magic? Levitation is a first year spell.
Who cares? Just hit him!
Everyone stops suddenly, and I bump into some boy with red hair. Weasley? Right? Oh, well.
Everyone stops suddenly, and I bump into some boy with blond hair. Malfoy! Really? Oh, shit!
He spins and sneers.
"Watch where you're going, Crabbe."
At first, I want to correct him, but then I remember that it's our fault he's got us mixed up.
Next, I'm about to ask him to calm down, when I remember that he thinks he's in charge.
So I nod and look to Vince. It's hard not to be a bit interested in the ghosts, though. I've never actually seen a ghost before. I know about them, of course. But it's still a bit strange to see the pale, translucent spirits. The one on the right was a... Monk? Friar?
"My dear friar, haven't we given peeves all the chances he deserves?"
Square aid each meeting. Vince clicks.
What?
His order. Square aid each meeting.
When the bloody hell did Vince learn religious orders in Chinese? Let's try to figure this out... Fāng jì gè huì... not made up based on sounds...
What if we try reverse-engineering it? He's not wearing a scapular and his habit's either gray or white... it's hard to tell... So that narrows it down to Augustinian Recollects or Franciscans...
Prove it.
The clothes makes it Àogǔsīdīng Huíyì or Fāng jì gè huì.
So it means Franciscans.
Why not Augustinian recollects? I click the new word, hoping I get it right. If it was wrong, he doesn't comment.
The were founded in 1500's in Spain. I doubt the Puffs went 600 years without a house ghost, he clicks, smirking.
Dang. I hate it when Vince gets a logic problem before me. I try paying attention to distract myself. The friar had just told us to join the Puffs. I look at the ghost next to him.
On his neck sits a ruff. I smile.
On the stool sits a hat. I frown.
Ivan was being serious? I mean, Greg said he looked serious, and he can normally tell, but I assumed he had missed some sarcasm. They actually use a hat to sort us? It's not a questionnaire or a spell or just go to whatever house you want?
The hat starts singing.
Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
but don't judge on what you see,
If Ivan can be believed, we'll get called up one at a time, put on the hat for a second to five or more minutes, and have our houses called out. Will we be able trick it into taking each other's names? Of course, most people wouldn't notice if we switched for a day. But Crabbe's early enough in the alphabet that someone'll still be paying attention.
There's nothing hidden in your head
the Sorting Hat can't see.
Crap. The Sorting Hat seems pretty egotistical. I doubt it'll appreciate us trying to pull one over on it.
Who goes up first? Hopefully, Greg can figure the hat out.
Who goes up first? Hopefully, Vince can figure his letters out.
Well, which comes first in the alphabet, C or G? A B-
I mean, who goes up for Crabbe?
I think about it for a moment.
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
and unafraid of toil
Teresa and Myron managed to talk the hat into letting them into Slytherin, even though both of them are really more of Gryffindors minus some of the morals. So clearly it can be persuaded. On the other hand, better safe than sorry. But which is safe? Risk getting caught by the hat, and potentially everyone as a result, or getting caught by Malfoy?
Where those of wit and learning
will always find their kind.
Is it trickable?
Yes, but
Then you go up for Crabbe, Vincent.
So put me on,
Don't be afraid!
But
Do it
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a thinking cap
But what if it calls us out?
He's not responding. He's just not responding.
I won't respond. I just put my hands down to my sides.
"Abbott, Hannah"
Vince
This is really the only way to handle Greg
Vince, this is a bad idea
"Hufflepuff"
You kind of have to push him into it.
When she calls your name, you go up.
"Gryffindor!"
It's for the best. He'll thank me later.
"Brocklehurst, Mandy"
I know what you're trying to do.
"Ravenclaw"
It's not going to work. I know you're planning to wait me out, but I won't go up for you.
"Slytherin"
Yeah, right.
"Crabbe, Vincent" Neither of us budges.
"Crabbe, Vincent" None of them budges.
After a moment, I call the name again. "Crabbe, Vincent?" Good Merlin, neither Franjo nor Ivan were the sharpest tool in the shed, but both of them knew their names! " ?"
A pale boy, if looks are to be believed, nudges a very large boy next to him who starts to move slowly towards the hat.
Number 25 nudges Number 15, and he slowly starts to move towards me.
But aren't we only on Number 8?
Well, well, well. Is this going to be a thing?
What?
First time anyone ever went up for another was two years ago. Now, it's happened twice in three years. I certainly hope the pattern continues; life can get incredibly boring on a shelf. The song isn't even part of my job description.
Who else did it?
Now you don't want me talking about your sorting, do you? Another thing that happens less often than you'd think. Almost no one bugs me for gossip about older siblings, or asks how old Dumbledore is.
No... Then it finally occurs to him to question the voice in his head, even if he doesn't put his thoughts into words.
I'm the Sorting Hat. Now we move on to the part where I do my job? Please say no. I don't want to go back to my shelf before I absolutely must. But he makes no objection.
Time to poke around in the old memory bank.
Let's see... not Gryffindor, you're braver than you give yourself credit for, I see a 9-year-old Number 15, terrified, but sneaking out of his room to read some books in a muggle library in the dead of night, but you still don't have the nerve for Gryffindor. 8-year-old Number 15 backing down from a fight with Number 8 over a prank involving two cats, bubble juice, a muggle battery, and three kilograms of every flavor beans.
You're loyal and willing to work, I see a 7-year-old struggling to memorize a story to read to his best friend after a mishap with dizzying drapht dosage put him in a coma, but still not Hufflepuff: you only follow the rules, but because of a need for order, never an interest in fair play. It's hard to ignore 10-year-old Number 15 stealing his neighbor's bird bath because it "threw off the color balance" of the neighborhood.
So that leaves Ravenclaw or Slytherin. You've certainly got the skills for Ravenclaw; you're definitely smart, reasonably creative. You've got the drive to answer questions. I see a seven-year-old Number 15 staying up for a week to get through an Arithmancy textbook. On the other hand, you areresourceful and clever. Finding patterns, especially in people, is as Slytherin as it is Ravenclaw. And there are a hundred examples of him finding ways to get out of his room.
In all honesty, I'd feel comfortable with either. But he has a favorite, so I go with it.
In the end, it's behaviors, not abilities, that matter.
Well, I can't go around telling people I care about their opinions, can I? People wouldn't try and emulate the traits.
"Slytherin!"
"Slytherin!"
Thank Merlin. I was terrified I'd wreck our plans by getting sent to Ravenclaw.
I stumble clumsily as I can manage down the steps and over to the Slytherin table. I'm only the second Slytherin, but I've meet Mandy Bulstrode and would rather not sit anywhere near her. But am I required to? Is it an informal rule? Or am I allowed to sit anywhere in our corner? How did they sit in the other tables? I wasn't paying attention. As I look over to check, the cheering dies down and I hear clicking. I glance over and see Vince.
Sit. Sit. Sit.
It's been a solid 30 seconds since I was sent to Slytherin.
Some of the other kids are snickering, and an older kid gestures to our table, assuming I didn't know the tables yet. Thank Merlin for big and dumb.
I wonder if anyone will question my being sorted into Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff. Still would have been better than Ravenclaw, but...
Of course, technically speaking, I haven't been sent to Slytherin, either; Vince was. But he should be able to avoid Ravenclaw, and there's no way he'll get shipped to Hufflepuff. What about Gryffindor? Oh, Merlin.
I will die laughing if Vince gets sent to Gryffindor.
I will die if I get sent to Gryffindor.
There was never any doubt that the plan would be complicated. It took forever to plan out. I'd solve a problem and another would arise.
Me snapping and running off to the library in the middle of class? Hide pages of books everywhere.
Greg getting sent to Ravenclaw? He just talked his way out of it.
Needing to go to the library eventually? Library closes at 10. It'll be empty by 11.
Hat calling us out? Send Greg first, the hat'll like him better.
Greg can't act? Have him keep his mouth closed and look away.
My siblings? Ivan dropped out (thank merlin) and Alexander graduated
His siblings? Teresa dropped out, too, and we talked Mr. Goyle into sending Myron to Durmstrang for 3rd year.
We had it all worked out.
But now this idiot hat-
You're not exactly earning brownie points.
You're not seriously considering Gryffindor.
You're seriously not changing my mind. You're impulsive, brave,-
Chivalrous?
And I suppose you think you'd do better in Slytherin?
Would I do better in Slytherin?
He would do better in Slytherin.
It was obvious immediately. For one thing, simply the reason that he wants to be in Slytherin guarantees admittance.
He doesn't belong in Hufflepuff, with his astounding lack of patience, nor Ravenclaw, learning is his tool and way to keep busy, nor really Gryffindor. Contrary to popular decision, a thrill addiction alone does not a Gryffindor make.
But he was the other student who switched. And I was running ahead of schedule. I'm not going back to the shelf before I have to.
But now I'm getting back on time. No point in delaying the inevitable.
Two hours later, I'm on a dusty shelf for a year.
Two hours later, I'm starting to question the necessity of the plan for the year. We could just sit here and let our housemates entertain us.
Take Blaise Zabini, for example. I think he's enjoying poking Draco (that's Malfoy's first name) with verbal sticks. Twice so far he's implied that the Malfoys don't have enough money, and Malfoy keeps bringing up Mrs. Zabini's... marital record. Seriously, though.
Why's he poking the bear?
Greg gets sociology better.
Dominance fight.
They're not dogs.
Same thought process.
So what'll happen? He responds so quick he must have thought this through a while ago.
Depends on who's smarter. Friend options, and thus threat of social starvation, is the closest thing either of them has to power to force each other's hand. If Malfoy is, he'll claim the four unclaimed members of the house for his circle, and force Fire -Blaze? Blaise?- to submit or take the social hit. If Blaise is, he'll claim the others, and they'll have equal power.
This should be fun.
This should be easy.
Instead, my housemates are rebelling! I mean, not Crabbe or Goyle, obviously, and Pansy's coming along well. But still! I knew Zabini might be a problem, but I didn't expect my other classmates to pay him any attention!
And Theodore's actually listening to him. I can't believe it. Moron. Tracy and Daphne, too. Even Millicent's looking undecided, and she's been Pansy's best friend since they were 5.
And while me and Blaise may be equal in numbers, I can't help but feel that, unbelievable as it is, he might actually have the better picks. Pansy's fine, and Millicent will be if she has the brains to come over here. But Crabbe and Goyle aren't friends or even minions so much bodies. They add to my count, but not the the quality.
Oh, well. It shouldn't take them too long to realize they're better off with me.
I'm still considering my problem when Dumbledore begins a speech. Forbidden Forest... pain of death... calling us horses... Like I expected, he's a loon.
"Pick your favorite tune," Joy.
"Pick your favorite tune," Crap.
Is he trying to say that we're all going to sing the same song differently? Yes he is; the song's started. Most the Slytherin's aren't singing, thank Merlin, but it's still easily heard from here. I glance over to Greg. He's shaking enough that I'm nervous Malfoy might notice.
You okay?
He doesn't reply.
Greg, the oranges. One, two, three, four, five...
It's fairly obvious he's still upset, but he calms down counting oranges enough that Draco won't notice. How long is this going to last? Most of the class seems to be more than halfway done, but what about the stranglers?
Eventually the school's mostly over. In fact, only two kids are left (red hair: Weasleys, maybe?), singing it at a funeral chant rate. Weren't those the two Dumbledore basically called out during the speech?
To do: establish communication.
So... reviews appreciated, hope you liked it more than I did, I'll try to get the next chapter up by Easter.