Rise of the Alchemists: Chapter 2 – The Sorting
Writing belongs to NovaMagma at deviantart and Pinktwirls at
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Not me. I'm not cool enough.
[author's note: the 19 years later epilogue occurs between chapter 1 and chapter 2.]
The train, being an object and having a distinct lack of coherent thought, did not help at all in the easing of Albus's nerves. The rattling cars against tracks thudding in his ears and the ringing voices of the dozens of passengers were pounding in Al's head so hard he thought he would pop. The turbulence wrestled with Al's stomach, and he was about to make the worst first impression on his fellow students he possibly could by being sick in the middle of the isle when his cousin, Rose, showed up as his savior.
"Al?" She called out, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. Albus nearly skyrocketed out of his shoes in surprise, but quickly relaxed when he realized who she was.
Rose was the same age as Albus, though the two were practically nothing alike. They both had freckles from their Weasley side, but Rose's hair was bright red, and Al's was jet black, and their personalities were drastically different. Rose was compulsive, overconfident, and somewhat tactless, though she made up for this with textbook smarts. Albus was shy and withdrawn, and had greater expectations for himself than he thought he could achieve. He was also very detail and organization oriented, a trait which Rose could use a little more of. Rose's hazel eyes seemed to stand out in the strange lighting of the rocking train, and the ambient noise nearly drowned out Al's next statement.
"Blimey, you scared me, Rose," He complained. "What do you need?" Rose crossed her arms and glared at her cousin.
"Well I can understand if you don't want me around, but I have the empty compartment, and if you don't want to share it you don't have to." She turned away from Al, feigning offense.
After a great deal of stuttering and apologies from Albus, Rose laughed and led the way to her compartment. The two of them navigated around the chaotic wreck of students filling the car up with fireworks and dungbombs, and as soon as they reached their compartment, they slammed the door shut and waited for the outside noise to lessen.
"Jeez," Rose complained as they situated themselves into the cushioned seats. "I can't believe how crowded it is in the isles. You'd think there'd be a supervisor or something...Al, are you all right?"
As soon as they had left the chaotic hallway of the train, Albus had reverted to his wrecked state of anxiety. He didn't hear Rose calling his name until she had repeated it about four times.
"Wha? Sorry...I..." He trailed off. Rose, having known her cousin for long enough, knew that he wasn't very in control of his emotions.
"Spill it." Rose pushed. "What's eating you?" That was all it took for Albus to crack. Before she knew it, Albus started pouring out everything to her, and didn't give her much reaction time.
"What if no one likes me? What if I fail all my classes? What if people compare me to my dad? What if someone throws me off the Astronomy tower?"
"Al, that's hardly a plausibility."
When Albus didn't answer, and Rose decided she didn't care enough anymore to delve deeper. Their conversation was about to fall into silence had it not been for Albus's desperation to get his mind off the upcoming year.
"What sort of wand do you have?" He asked.
Rose smiled knowingly, and said, "Ash and dragon heartstring. You?"
"Hawthorn and unicorn hair." He responded. "I wonder what the materials mean. Don't they have some weird significance?"
"Yeah..." Rose started, struggling to remember. "The wood and cores reflect our personalities I think. And stuff like if our wand isn't bendy, you're a stubborn person. Things like that."
"Hm." Albus pondered. "I wonder what hawthorn and unicorn hair is supposed to be."
Their conversation maintained like that for a while, talking about the weather and other things no one cared about. The food trolley came and went, and though Albus didn't have anything else to eat, he didn't think that his stomach would be able to handle the candy the trolley had to offer.
Suddenly, the door to the compartment burst open, and Al's older brother, James, came charging in.
"Hey, what's up?" James asked the two of them, and without waiting for an answer, plopped down in the empty space beside Rose. James and Albus looked much alike, as they had both inherited their father's–and grandfather's–features; they each had jet-black hair and glasses, (though James's hair was untidy and Al's was very neat), but Albus was a bit more lanky than James, and James had his mother's brown eyes instead of his father's green ones. "Excited to be going to Hogwarts?" James asked his brother slyly.
"James, please just go away." Al pleaded. "Nothing you have to say right now will help anything."
"But what about how worried you were earlier?" James feigned concern over his little brother, his brown eyes alight with mischief. "About being placed in..." He added the last word in a whisper. "Slytherin?"
Albus glared at James, willing him to shut up. His worst fear, ever since he had been a small boy, was to be placed in Slytherin, the worst of the four Hogwarts houses. Every house had certain attributes it valued in its members, and your house placement was defined by your personality type. Gryffindor, home to all of Albus and Rose's families, valued bravery and chivalry (the standard hero qualities.) Ravenclaw took in students of academic potential, those who strived to learn. Hufflepuff valued acceptance, justice, and loyalty.
Slytherin had a reputation for being the most evil of the houses.
The Slytherin house values were not evil in themselves; ambition, cunning, leadership, and pride were the attributes that Slytherin cherished. But there was never a bad wizard that didn't come out of Slytherin, because the qualities Slytherin possessed could be easily abused. Slytherin and Gryffindor rivaled each other, and since every member of Al's family came out of Gryffindor, being in Slytherin was something he feared a great deal. It was, after all, the house that had birthed the most evil wizard of all, Lord Voldemort.
"Oh, so what if he's put in Slytherin?" Rose brushed James off in her matter-of-fact voice, reaching for another one of her textbooks to read through (a habit most likely adopted from her bookworm mother.) "Slytherin isn't all that bad. A lot of great wizards came from Slytherin. Regulas Black, Severus Snape, Hilbert Hrothingdale..."
"But you can't deny that Slytherin is evil." James cut her off. "Just look at Voldy. And have you even heard Dad's stories about Draco Malfoy?"
"But he turned out all right in the end..." Rose continued to protest, but James continued to ignore her, his attention focused on frightening Albus.
"I hear Draco's son is here as a first year this year. Scorpius Malfoy. I'd watch out for him if I were you." James winked, then left the compartment, leaving Albus sick to his stomach.
There was a long, empty silence, which took Albus a few minutes to break.
"You don't think I'll be sorted to Slytherin do you?!"
Rose sighed, and looked up from her book. "I thought you already went over this with Uncle Harry."
"But still..."
"Hey," She said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "What are you gonna name your owl?"
The cousins looked over at Al's sleek, black owl, whose cage was resting on the ground next to them. He was a very smart looking creature, and his feathers were very nicely groomed.
"I'm not sure." Albus said. "Dad named his first owl after someone in his history textbook. Maybe I could find a name like that."
"What about someone from a chocolate frog card?" Rose suggested. "It could even be someone ridiculous like that witch that got abducted by pixies."
"Yeah." Albus rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna name my owl after a pixie abducted witch."
"Well, the chocolate frog thing wasn't a bad idea." Rose pouted. "You brought your collection with you, right? Shuffle them, and whatever you pick will be his name."
Albus grudgingly agreed, it wasn't a bad idea. He reached into his trunk and withdrew all the chocolate frogs cards he owned (he had every single one except Wendolin the Weird.) He shuffled them up, closed his eyes, and withdrew a card.
"Oh great." He said.
"What?"
"I got Paracelsus."
"So?"
"His full name was Auroleus Phillipus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim. Which one am I supposed to pick?"
"Oh just pick Hohenheim and be done with it."
Albus sighed, and nodded. He took a piece of spell-o-tape from his trunk and taped the card to the top of Hohenheim's cage.
"I'm putting down the full name in the pet registration when they ask for it." Al complained, though he was inwardly very amused at the entire situation. Hohenheim hooted happily.
It was well past nightfall before they reached Hogsmead station, but reach Hogsmead they finally did. All dressed up in their fancy clothes, the students tumbled out of the train like an overflowing goblet. The older students went to the carriages that pulled them towards the school, but the first years always received the more dramatic approach of a boat ride towards the castle.
"Firs' years, firs' years, come wi' me! Yeah, tha's right, all o' ya." Boomed out a familiar voice for Al and Rose.
"Hagrid!" they called out to their half giant friend. Hagrid was a tall, bulky man, with an enormous mess of gray hair and beard covering most of his face. He waved to the two cousins, as he beckoned for the group of first years to follow him to the docks.
"How've you been, Hagrid?" Rose asked as she jogged along side him to keep up with his pace.
"Good as always." Hagrid responded gleefully. "We got a new litter o' cerberus pups, an' they sure'r a handful." The half giant chortled, and Al exchanged a meaningful glance with Rose. Hagrid had a reputation for raising dangerous creatures for his Magical Creatures class to take care of. "I was thinkin' o' teachin' my seventh years how ter train 'em. The minis'ry says if they're raised right, they should be able ter stay at the school."
"Well, that's fantastic!" Rose said kindly, but her smile looked more like a grimace. Luckily, Hagrid didn't seem to notice.
"Three ter a boat, all o' ya!" Hagrid boomed as the students reached the docs. The first years acted much like very confused sheep; none of them seemed capable of sentience, and they were not able to properly situate themselves in the boats. Amidst the crowds of confused people Hagrid managed to make some progress in pairing them all up, but as he didn't bother to check who he picked up and placed where, he grabbed Rose right away from Albus and placed her in another boat.
"Rose! Rose, wait, gah, excuse me, Rose! Don't leave me here!" He called out in dismay. He wouldn't be left alone, he couldn't, he would just have to get Rose out of that boat...
Rose herself didn't much see the point of Al's worry, and since it would be a hassle to get out of the boat and try to get back with him, she just shrugged apologetically as her rowboat floated away. The next thing Albus knew was Hagrid grabbing him and plopping him down in a boat with a skinny, platinum-blond haired boy (though the color couldn't be seen in the dark) and a bulky red-haired fellow who looked as though he could be at least a fourth year by his size.
The red-haired fellow and the skinny boy spent so much time arguing over the oars and how to get moving that by the time they were afloat, the entire party was minutes ahead of them. Fortunately, the boat rides generally didn't last long. In fact, Hogwarts Castle was just around the corner of the lake.
The sight of it was certainly something to behold. It was the height of at least ten normal sized castles, and the glowing light from the windows gave it a mystical look that could never be described with the words I write to you today.
"Would you look at that." The red haired fellow admired, nearly dropped his oar in the water just from the sight of it.
"I would if I could." The skinny boy complained. "I can't see around your head."
The red haired fellow turned around to face the boy, anger clear in his movements.
"What did say about my head?" The fellow asked.
"I didn't say anything about your head," The boy replied incredulously. "I just said I couldn't get a good view–"
"All righty then, maybe this will help your vision!" The fellow yelled, and nailed the boy with a rather hard right hook to the face. The boy fell right off the boat into the water.
"Whoa!" Al yelled, as the rowboat rocked back and forth. "Hey, you all right?" He called out to the overboard passenger.
The boy surfaced again, moaning in pain, clutching his cheek. Al tried to reach for him, but he leaned too far for the rocking boat to handle, and both Albus and the red haired fellow went toppling into the water, flipping their boat over in the process.
"Well that's perfect!" The fellow complained over the water flooding into his mouth. "Now what do we do? Everyone else is already ahead of us! They can't come back to help."
"Isn't it obvious?" The platinum haired bow drawled. "We swim. What else? I doubt we'll be able to flip the boat back over."
"I'm gonna leave my robe behind." Albus yelled out, as he struggled to tread water over the weight of his clothing. "You two should do the same if you want to get out of this lake before we freeze to death."
The three waterlogged first years tossed their robes on the overturned boat and proceeded to swim towards the shore of the school. The red haired fellow made it out first since he had the strongest arms and legs, and without even sparing the other two a glance he continued on to the school entrance.
Al made it next, and leaned over to help the skinny boy out of the water. The boy muttered his thanks as he attempted to empty the water out of his shoes.
"Think we'll ever get our robes back?" The boy asked.
"Yeah, one of the teachers should be able to use a summoning charm." Albus explained, looking out down at the white polo shirt he had just ruined with lake water. "C'mon, I don't want to miss the House Sorting." The boy nodded, and they trudged along the grounds towards the entrance of the school.
"What house are you hoping to get in?" The boy asked as they battled against their dripping clothing to walk towards the castle.
"Wherever the hat places me I suppose." Albus sighed, not wanting to go into the topic any further. "You?"
The boy seemed to have a similar mindset. "As long as they let me in the school, I couldn't care less." Albus laughed, and the boy gave a nervous chuckle. The two continued with small talk until they reached the entrance hall with the rest of the first years.
"You two!" A curt voice called out as they gathered with the other first years. The voice belonged to the headmaster of the school, Professor Ernest Macmillan, the former prefect of Hufflepuff during Harry Potter's time. He was a tall man of stout build, and had the airs of someone who had just transferred out of a desk job.
Macmillan pushed his way through the students to meet the boys as they came in. "I wondered why Duffel was the only one who came in sopping. What sort of trouble have you two been getting in to?" Albus and the boy shared a glance, before Professor Macmillan kept speaking. "Oh, never mind, here." With a jab of his wand, their clothes were dried and their robes returned to their bodies. "Get in line, and stay out of trouble please."
They were only happy to oblige as the door to the Great Hall opened to let the first years in. Albus couldn't help but gape at the ceiling, which had been bewitched to look like the weather outside. The stars and moon lit up the hall as much as the floating candles did.
The hall was separated into four tables, one for each house. Each student bore the colors of their respective houses, Slytherin and Hufflepuff on the far ends, and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in the middle.
Albus barely had a moment to wonder if the floating candles dripped wax on the students heads before the Sorting Ceremony started. On a stool in the front of the table of professors sat a very tattered and worn pointed hat. Albus knew enough about Hogwarts to know that this hat was known as the Sorting Hat, and contained fragments of the minds of each of Hogwart's founders. When a student placed the hat on their head, it would read the student's mind and place them in their houses in accordance to their personality.
The Sorting Hat itself spoke through a small tear in its fabric, and before they knew it, the hat burst into what was clearly a well practiced poem.
"Here students come, once a year,
To hear a judgement they all do fear.
All these students that do come this way
will forever reminisce this day,
To hear what the Sorting Hat will say,
before he will fall into decay.
So where will you be, My good dear chaps?
Well, why not try the Sorting Hat?
Gryffindor, brave and loyal? Hufflepuff, who fears no toil? Ravenclaw, who is sharp at wit?
Or Slytherin, who let few permit?
Well well well, now we shall see,
Where the Sorting Hat does say you'll be!"
The students gave a good natured clap, though the first years were more perplexed than anything. Professor Macmillan brought up a very long roll of parchment, straightened with it in his fingers, and began to read names from it.
"Allen, Gunner!" An arrogant looking first year from the crowd stepped forward and placed the hat on his head. The sorting hat didn't move for a few seconds, then shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
A shout of applause erupted from the hall as Allen went to join his fellow Hufflepuffs, looking pleased with himself. The headmaster called out many more names, and as the group of first years began to grow smaller and smaller, Albus's nerves built up higher and higher.
Some of the students being called wore the hat for only a short few seconds before their house being called. Others sat on the stool for minutes at a time, waiting for a decision (Duffel, the red haired fellow from the boat, had the sorting hat on his head for nearly four minutes before finally being announced as a Gryffindor.) What defined the decisions? The ones that were only there for a few seconds, was that really enough time to choose a house off those mere few seconds? How long would it take for Albus? What if his decision was made too fast, and he was stuck in an awful house forever?
"Hey," A voice from next to him whispered. Albus jumped. It was the skinny, blond boy who fell out of the boat. Albus had nearly forgotten about him. The boy continued. "I never did get your name. What was it?"
"Oh! Er..." Albus looked around to make sure he wasn't drawing attention to himself. "Albus. Albus Potter. You can call me Al."
The boy blinked in furious surprise. "You're kidding! Harry Potter's son?"
Albus nodded, reluctantly. That was the reaction he got from most people after learning who he was. It created an expectation Albus felt he needed to look up to, and he didn't like it much. "Anyway, what's your name?" Al asked, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.
"Well...I'm..." The boy started, but didn't finish, because Professor Macmillan interrupted him before he could answer.
"Malfoy, Scorpius!" Albus looked up in curiosity. Malfoy was the name of his father's greatest school rival. However, his interest in the name tripled when he realized who the name actually belonged to.
The skinny boy Albus had almost made friends with walked up to the stool, giving Albus an apologetic look on his way up.
"No way." Albus whispered to himself. Did he just make friends with Scorpius Malfoy? The Scorpius Malfoy that was the son of Draco Malfoy, the infamous rival of Harry Potter?
The sorting hat stayed upon Scorpius's head for a full twenty seconds before finally shouting out, "SLYTHERIN!"
Albus's stomach sunk. If he was sorted into Slytherin, that must mean Scorpius was just another arrogant brat, like the rest of his house. But he had seemed perfectly nice before...
Macmillan continued to scroll through the list of names. He went through Nack, Nelson, Nottingham, Olbrick, O'Brian, and various other O and P names before finally landing on Potter.
"Potter, Albus!" He shouted to the room. Al gulped, ran up to the stool, and nearly knocked it over because he was shaking so much. Professor Macmillan placed the tattered hat upon his head, and it began to speak into his mind.
"Potter? As in Harry Potter? Well now, where should we put you? Actually, you don't seem to have much of a personality at all, besides being a bit whiny."
"What does that mean!"
"Calm down, it just means you'll be a little more difficult. You don't seem to have any specific yearn for knowledge, so that rules Ravenclaw out. No particular sense of loyalty or justice, so I can't really recommend Hufflepuff. Your family line would dictate Gryffindor, you are a Weasley after all. But you don't seem quite suited for that role. Actually, from what I see you would be best suited in Slytherin."
Albus's heart skipped a beat. Slytherin? THE Slytherin? The evil Slytherin that would turn him into a bloodsucking monster? His head began to spin and burn out.
"But...but my dad said that you would take my choice into account!"
"You never said you had anything against Slytherin. Besides, the only trait I'm getting from you is a Slytherin trait."
"What trait is that!?"
"Family pride. You are very proud of your family. You want to live up to their expectations. In fact, that's all you really seem to care about. Living up to your family name."
Albus paused and considered this. The hat did have a point; he was very proud of his family. His parents had fought against Lord Voldemort himself, all his grandparents also did the same. The hat seemed to be impatient, however, so it hustled the conversation along.
"So, Slytherin it is then?"
"Wait, I'm not so sure–"
""Oh, lighten up. You'll be fine."
"SLYTHERIN!"
Albus's heart stopped.
He couldn't move.
Think. Breathe. All he knew was that he had just been placed in Slytherin.
Slytherin.
SLYTHERIN.
The great hall didn't move either. None of them had been particularly interested in Albus. James Potter was a third year at the school, so the novelty of having Harry Potter's son at Hogwarts has somewhat died off at that point. But something like this was unthinkable.
The son of Harry Potter placed in Slytherin? Immediately, whispers started. Was Albus Potter evil? Why else would he be placed in Slytherin? Was he adopted? What was wrong with him? The teachers, though they didn't show it, wondered the same thing.
The applause was no different from anyone else's applause. Albus stood up and sat down at the Slytherin table like anyone else. He got thumps on the back like all the other first years did. Congratulations like all the other first years.
"Congrats, mate." A voice called out. Albus hardly noticed through his trance.
"Huh...wuh..."
"I said congratulations on making Slytherin. It's the best of the houses, you know." Albus looked up. It appeared to be the school prefect sitting next to him.
"Henry Nott." The prefect said, shaking Albus's hand. Albus blinked in surprise.
"Wasn't your father...a...um..."
"Death eater?" Nott said. He nodded apologetically. "Yeah. Theodore Nott. My Grandfather was too. So I guess we should be rivals, parent-wise." Albus must have looked freaked out, because Nott added, "I'm nothing like them though. My dad was arrested when I was a toddler, so he's never been much of an influence. Besides," He added. "Being who you are, where you are, you'll run into a lot of people like me while you're at school."
"Who and where...?" Albus asked, though he knew the answer.
"Harry Potter's son. In Slytherin house." Nott explained. "Most of us are perfectly nice people, don't worry. Besides, we take care of our own, we Slytherins. You'll be fine. If you ever run into trouble, don't be afraid to ask one of us." Nott gave Al a hearty thump on the back, and turned back to the sorting.
Albus fell back into his trance, not paying much attention to the sorting until Nott elbowed him in the ribs.
"Hey, what was that–"
"That's your cousin up next, isn't it?" Nott asked Albus. Al looked up. That was indeed Rose up at the stool. Macmillan placed the hat on her head, and the hall fell into silence, just like it did for all the other first years.
The wait wasn't long, considering, but it felt like longer to Albus. Eventually, the sorting hat opened its mouth and called out, "RAVENCLAW!" The hall burst into applause, and Rose went happily to join her new classmates.
"That's interesting." A sixth year Slytherin whispered out from across the table. "She's the first Weasley in a while not to be sorted into Gryffindor. Even the headmaster was a Gryffindor too."
"Must have come from her Granger side. The one that works at law enforcement. My dad's told me about her before." Said Scorpius, who happened to be sitting next to the sixth year. Albus jumped a bit when he noticed him. "Lotta people say she should have been sorted into Ravenclaw, but the hat put her in Gryffindor instead." Albus nodded. When he thought about it, Rose had just as much Weasley in her as Al and James, but since she possessed the surname, it must have come as a minor shock to most people.
It didn't take long for the sorting to come to an end. The final first year, Fritz Zuerst, was sorted into Ravenclaw, and with that, the feast started.
His father had warned him about this, but nothing could truly prepare him for the shock of having an entire plate of deliciously mouthwatering food appear right in front of him. In fact, he almost fell backwards off his bench. But the food was delicious.
By the end of dinner, he was already feeling more comfortable with the house he had been placed in, (though it was still a bit disconcerting.) The Bloody Baron–the ghost of the Slytherin house–had sat himself down in between Scorpius and the sixth year who spoke earlier (who had been identified as Patrick Turken) and Albus managed to have a civil conversation with him without passing out in the middle of it. He even brought himself to laugh nervously at a few of the Baron's jokes.
The other Slytherins at the table were very aware of Al's obvious terror, and though they all found this very amusing, none of them said anything. In fact, they were too intrigued by having the son of Harry Potter with them at all that they didn't have much capacity left for making fun of him. They were all simply curious as to who he'd turn out to be.
When the end of the feast came, the plates cleared themselves and the now food-stuffed students turned to the headmaster as he prepared to speak.
"I, on behalf of all my other teachers here at Hogwarts, would very much like to welcome you to the upcoming year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Now, before you all go to your dormitories, I would like to say a few things. I'll try to keep it brief though and leave the finer details to your prefects," He made an appreciative gesture to the few students in the crowd who bore that badge of honor, "as I'm sure the older students should know everything well enough by now not to hear it again!" (A voice from the crowd that sounded suspiciously like James Potter's shouted "hear hear!" from the Gryffindor table.)
Macmillan continued on in an extremely pompous manner, "First of all, the basic school rules. Don't go wandering into the Forbidden Forest, as it is off limits. So if you get run over by centaurs, don't come crying to me. Please remember no magic is allowed in corridors or in the library. School uniforms will be worn at all times on weekdays. I would also strongly advise you to stay away from all Weasley products should you wish to maintain a clean record." (this last rule was met with a collective groan from the students, and even the Headmaster did look a bit regretful.)
"One last thing. I do believe you all remember Mr Filch, our caretaker? Last year was Mr Filch's last year at Hogwarts, the poor bloke has finally gone into retirement!" (This news brought on tremendous applause from the Great Hall. Even the teachers looked relieved.) "If any of you wish to retain some ounce of the fellow's school spirit, we have retained a list of his banned items on the door to the teacher's lounge." ("I hear someone used a permanent sticking charm on that thing to keep it from coming off," Turken commented.)
"Well, I won't keep you any longer, I will leave the rest up to your prefects! Get a good night's rest, and your schedules will be handed out at breakfast tomorrow, so don't be late! Good night everyone!"
The Great Hall erupted into a flurry of noise and chatter as the prefects tried to find all their first years, and the rest of the students tried to do nothing more than race to their dormitories as fast as they could. Albus seemed to shrink down amidst the crowd, as he wasn't very tall to begin with, before finally catching Nott's eye and racing after him. Once the Great Hall had emptied a bit, the first year Slytherins gathered with Nott and followed him down towards the dungeons through the grand staircase.
"You doing all right?" Someone asked Albus from behind. Albus spun around to see who it was, and it was Scorpius, who looked almost as nervous as Al felt. Al nodded weakly, his legs a strange mix between lead and jelly.
"I'd rather walk with a semi familiar face than be totally alone." Scorpius admitted. Albus nodded again, gratefully.
"You know," Albus started. "I bet us two could compare some awesome stories about our parents. It would be cool to see the other perspectives."
Scorpius laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet."
And thus the unlikeliest of friendships was born.