The greatest of thanks to RavenRoset, the inspiration for Brooklyn, for helping me revise and rewrite this chapter. Without her input, this chapter would be way worse than it is now!

Sitting in the Great Hall before the Sorting, I wasn't feeling hungry. After all of the Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Cauldron Cakes on the Hogwarts Express, I was nearly stuffed. Already I'd broken one of my mother's wishes: filling myself with candy was definitely not eating a well-rounded meal.

The line of first-years paraded in, led by the Deputy Headmaster (I'd been pleased to find out that the new Deputy was Professor Fourier, as that meant my two favorite teachers ruled the school). Professor Fourier smiled and winked at us all as he steered the Sortees up to the very front of the room, in front of the professors' table. Then he pulled two things from seemingly thin air: a small three-legged stool and a raggedy wizard's hat that everyone recognized as the Sorting Hat.

Professor Fourier had not even withdrawn his hand from the brim of the hat when it opened its mouth wide. Expecting a song, we were all shocked when it opened its mouth to mutter words that grew as the Hat shared.

"In the brightest light, even a shadow can be seen.

Do not trust who might seem trustworthy….

Do not believe a liar nor run with the trickster!-"

With a flick of Headmaster Damien's wand, all of the doors slammed shut in unison. The hat zoomed to the tall man's hand, and he silenced it with another muttered spell. Then he stepped forward and tossed the Sorting Hat carelessly to the side. Everyone gasped at the disrespectful action.

"From now on," he shouted, "I suggest you do not listen to that old, possibly crazy, Sorting Hat." His piercing blue eyes were so kind and cheerful with a distant hint of a feral sharpness. "It will Sort you into your Houses and nothing more. As the new ruler of Hogwarts School, this I declare." His smile was savage and cruel.

Everyone was frozen, staring at him, and he impatiently glared at us. "I will kill anyone who is disloyal to me."

We all stayed frozen, until he waved his hand to dismiss the moment. "I'm just joking with you."

He smiled harshly and flicked his wrist- and the scruffy, ancient hat flew back into his hand. "Now, Hat," he ordered. "Sort them… and we can continue with this momentous occasion."

He threw the Sorting Hat to Professor Fourier, who carefully caught it. Cautiously, nervously, the Potions teacher unrolled a scroll with his free hand and said in a voice that quaked just the right amount, "When I call your name, please come sit upon the stool and I will place the hat upon your head… Abernathy, Thaddeus."

A small, frightened African-American boy crept forward and perched lightly on the stool, which rocked a bit.

"Hufflepuff," the Hat said without any of its usual vigor. Thaddeus Abernathy edged away to sit at the yellow-and-black table, and no one applauded for fear of being yelled at… or worse, killed.

"Alberts, Ivory."

"Ravenclaw."

I smiled at Ivory Alberts as she tiptoed up and took a seat a few feet down the Ravenclaw table from me. She was tall for her age and had a dainty face framed in wavy white-blond locks.

"Auteberry, Brayden."

"Gryffindor."

The names started to speed by. Bartram, Tabitha… Gryffindor. Bellamy, Cameron… Slytherin. Bennett, Lilianna… Ravenclaw. Boyce, Dean… Slytherin. I kept my eyes fixed on Headmaster Damien as he ran his hands through his mussed black hair, making it messier and growing more agitated with every second that passed. It was obvious that he was getting impatient and wanted the Sorting to be over.

I recognized only one Sortee. Zola Greene was the younger sister of my arch-nemesis from the previous year, Will Greene. I knew Will adored her and probably expected her to be in Ravenclaw along with him.

"Greene, Zola."

Little Zola climbed the steps. When she had turned away from Headmaster Damien to sit on the drool, she flashed Will- who was sitting a few seats up from me- a quick, glancing smile.

"Slytherin."

"What?" I heard Will gasp. It was the only word in the silent hall. I held my breath, but Headmaster Damien didn't seem to have noticed. Instead, he motioned for Professor Fourier to call the next name.

"Guire, Daisy."

"Gryffindor."

Headley, Linette… Slytherin. Hewitt, Lionel… Hufflepuff. Hobbes, Lenore… Gryffindor. Huddleson, Whitney… Ravenclaw.

"Overton, Chrissy" had just been Sorted into Hufflepuff when Headmaster Damien yowled, "Stop!" He came down and picked his way down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. He passed so close to me that the edge of his robes brushed a stray curl on the back of my head. My body was frozen, but I turned my head to see him standing in front of Eli Lupin. He was a kind boy, prone to stuttering, with a permanently red face and brilliant white hair. Only… his hair wasn't white. It was turquoise. I cocked my head in confusion. Had he gotten in the way of a bad Color-Changing Charm over the summer? Or had he dyed it?

Headmaster Damien picked up a lock of Eli's short hair and rubbed it between his fingers. "Dye your hair over the summer, did you, son?"

"N- er- yes," Eli stammered. His face was an even brighter red than normal.

"Hm. Carry on," Headmaster Damien ordered Professor Fourier, dropping Eli's hair and making his way back to the dais. On the way, he stopped and conferred with Professor Fourier, and after that the Sorting picked up its pace. Pemberton, Stanley- Gryffindor! Penny, Sinclair- Slytherin! Queshire, Gilbert- Ravenclaw! Rains, Digby- Slytherin!

I exchanged a quick glance with Brooklyn, who was sitting a little ways up the Slytherin table. That was weird.

Finally, the list of names ended with Avelyn York, who joined us at the Ravenclaw table. Headmaster Damien stood and glared at Professor Fourier. "Finally," he intoned. "I'm starving. Don't let that happen next year." His laughter that followed the statement seemed lighthearted but there was something unsettling about it.

I shuddered at the thought of dealing with this new Headmaster Damien for a whole year… or more.

"We should get this feast started!" Headmaster Damien called, knocking on the table and standing, holding his arms out to gesture to each table. "And only the finest."

Then the plates in front of us filled with delicacies, savory pies and tarts and soufflés, potatoes and greens and puddings. Everyone except Headmaster Damien seemed to have lost their appetite.

Headmaster Damien glared at us. "What are you waiting for?" he invited, but suddenly his tone was more cunning and commanding than friendly. "Eat!"

So we ate. Everyone suddenly discovered their appetites- even I found myself hungry- and loaded their plates with food. I ate methodically, mechanically shoveling soufflé and salad into my mouth and chewing. The food wasn't bland, in fact it was quite delicious, but I barely tasted it. My mind was spinning horribly and all I could think was, Maybe it's a dream. Maybe I'm asleep in my bed at home and I'll wake up and none of this has happened…

This thought remained in my head as we finished. Headmaster Damien was full and so ordered us to go back to our dormitories, limited talking allowed.

In the hallway I could see Brooklyn struggling to make contact with me, waving wildly and mouthing something. Her effort didn't last long as she was swept away by crowd of Slytherin second years with Leja leading the charge.

We stumbled down corridors and up stairs, and I burst into the fourth-year Ravenclaw girls' dormitory for the first time. My trunk was there, and I unpacked quickly as my dorm-mates straggled in. First, as I folded my clothes and put them in drawers, Polly Lider. Then Lanie Kelling as I lined up my books by my bed, followed closely by her best friend and the former Ravenclaw Quidditch Keeper Shawnee Haven. Millie Thresher, the most popular Ravenclaw girl in the year, slumped in with her best friend, Helen MacDougal. The final Ravenclaw fourth-year girl came in while I was getting ready for bed. Lynne Turnip was French and had transferred from Beauxbatons in our second year. When she spoke quietly, I could still hear a touch of a French accent. "How have you all been?"

"Shh," Helen whispered nervously. "Do you want him to hear us?"

"This is the girls' dormitory," Lynne whispered back. "He can't."

"Let's just go to bed," Millie sighed softly. And as we lay in the dark, the silky light of the moon filtering in through the windows, the thought came to my mind again. Maybe it's all… just a… dream…

So school's getting out and chances are I'll write a lot over the summer. I might be taking a couple breaks to work on my other stories, though, so hopefully this can hold you guys for a little while?

Also, any ideas/reviews/critique will be appreciated!

~atrfla