...

Rodrick couldn't help himself in stealing glances towards his compartment neighbor. Particularly because she didn't seem to have any problems in interacting with him.

Or, perhaps the better way to put it would be her been in his presence. Which, really, threw him for a loop given near every, if not all of the muggles in his orphanage seemed to have a problem with so much as staring at him. The ones he had made an effort to speak to himself would make more of an attempt to avoid him, and even when they didn't, they tended to disappear out of his life anyway. Adults looking to adopt someone almost always favored the ones that didn't shun him. Which didn't exactly end well for him, all things considered.

A fact his grandfather had put down to his magical nature; muggles didn't fit well with wizards, it came on a subconscious level. That, along with the fact he himself hadn't quite truly believed most of what the man had said until he'd received his first letter.

Presumably, his grandfather must have been so truly confused at his complete disregard for his reality for all of those years. Even if he agreed with the need of keeping a low-profile. Not that he could've actually provided any proof, given his current living arrangements.

Still, despite the fact his grandfather had known he'd doubt every word he'd heard from him, it hadn't stopped the man from being completely honest with him.

Particularly about the kind of man he'd been before his imprisonment.

When he'd first learned of his family name and the history associated with it, he'd felt ashamed of himself for even trying to interact with muggles; though not for the usual 'Pureblood' reasons. Rather for the fact that the only family that he did in fact have or could've had would've also been disappointed in him.

It wasn't a pleasant thought. His grandfather certainly never disagreed with it.

At any rate, according to the man, or at the very least how he'd taken what he'd been told, he had figured all pureblood families to be somewhat alike.

The only pureblood he'd known of before the castle had sent one to oversee his introduction to the magical world, was his grandfather. And even that was an assumption, given said man had never bothered to teach him about the rest of his family history.

Which in effect was part of the main reason he was bemused with the girl next to him; her family was filled with purebloods, yet they didn't seem to react with revulsion when they'd learned he was an orphan. The likelihood of an orphan being pureblood was small, if not non-existent. Yet despite that, they were open with him, and the girl had even put in an effort to find him on the train.

It was strange, but in a comforting way, he might finally have a friend.

...

He was currently following a giant of a, admittedly very burly (and hairy), man.

Daphne Greengrass was, to his surprise, still flanking him.

The giant man leading them on the other hand had the bushiest beard he'd ever seen covering his neck and, somehow, even longer hair that reached the back of his head. With a torch in one hand, despite the load of good it probably did, a magic spell would've been much more efficient, he was currently leading them and the rest of their year towards the castle.

Reaching what looked to be a river; the man pointed towards some rowboats they were expected to use.

Before moving an inch further, Rodrick suddenly found himself been pulled to a stop by Daphne.

"Hold on a minute," She whispered, her eyes set behind them, the girl looking and waiting for someone else.

Before he could reply, he suddenly found himself staring at a fuzz of hair running directly towards them. The girl immediately giving Daphne a hug and a scrutinizing look towards him.

''Tracey Davis' the name!'' The new girl introduced herself, a single thumb pointing towards her chest, her expression filled with a look of wonder and excitement. She was a redhead with very curly looking hair, with black eyes to go with it.

Still, Davis wasn't a name he knew of; He'd studied as much on magical families as he could after he'd received the letters practically a year ago, with him been less than two weeks away from his own twelfth birthday.

''Nice to meet you, mines Rodrick,'' He gave off a static reply, his attention turned away towards the rowboats the rest of their year was preparing to jump on.

Hearing an amused snort from Daphne. His lips, for whatever reason, tugged upwards at that.

''Rude, isn't he?'' Mused the girl. While Tracey let out a chuckle as she made to follow him onto the boat.

...

Rodrick had imagined what the castle would look like a countless number of times, particularly when he'd read about it, but he certainly wasn't ready for the sight awaiting him.

The castle was as big as it was old, sprawling so broad and high he couldn't frame it all into his vision. With towers so high they were almost piling on top of each other, vying to pierce the sky first.

Rodrick had been left speechless and practically unable to take his eyes off the view for the rest of the boat trip, all the way to the massive doors, drinking in every detail he could, trying and failing to compare it to what was written.

Walking through the castle gate towards a large, well-decorated, staircase. The designs on the walls leading towards it could practically tell a story to the naked eye. Creatures of all kinds filtered throughout the drawings, with wizards and witches, children at that, taking the center stage of most of the walls surrounding them. Every so often, his eyes caught the sight of one particular magical design moving elsewhere, disappearing out of sight as it turned a literal corner.

He couldn't help but wonder just how someone could make a near-sentient two-dimensional drawing that could somehow traverse from one spot of space to another, corners and dead-ends practically ignored.

The trio, however, soon enough found themselves at the back of the rest of the students. Ahead of them at the top was a witch in every sense of the word.

''Who is that?'' Rodrick turned to Daphne as he let out his question. Earning a look of surprise in response as the girl focused on the person in question.

''Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor,'' Tracey Davis however was the one that answered, staring at the witch with a look of awe as she did.

He almost couldn't help his snort as he stared at said face; she seemed to make it with everything around her. Daphne didn't seem to find it as funny if her irritated look suggested anything.

Or maybe that was due to his own reaction?

The professor eventually started to speak, ''Welcome to Hogwarts; School of witchcraft and wizardry. In a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.''

Rodrick suddenly felt the first hints of unease at that; he had expected the sorting, but he had hoped it would be private.

To be sorted in front of so many people, simply put, unnerved him. 'What if' scenarios of it going wrong immediately filled his head. Daphne having noticed his unease tugged at his sleeve and gave him a reassuring smile.

It didn't help, but he pretended to calm down all the same. The action was enough to placate her as she focused back on the professor herself.

The body of students promptly followed the professor into the main hall.

There were four large rows of tables filled up by students, at the front of the hall was the fifth table on top of a dais. One that was filled with professors on one side, all staring down at the students. In the middle was a seat covered by a...

'It can't be...' He couldn't help the thought as his eyes fell on a wrinkled hat on top of the singular chair set dead in the middle between the rows of students and teachers.

A few moments later his fears were confirmed; they were all going to be sorted by a wrinkled hat.

Rodrick looked about ready to leave the hall at the thought, his feet backstepping the slightest.

The headmaster started to give a speech, but Rodrick simply couldn't focus, his brain going into overdrive in trying to figure a way out of this. The hat would know his family and if it suddenly decided to spill that out... Well, he didn't know what would happen, nor did he want to find out.

Reaching said hat, their future professor walking a few steps further towards it. He watched as the aged woman promptly took out a very large scroll. Her eyes momentarily glancing through said list- albeit freezing for but a single moment. Her expression twisting into, what he presumed was bewilderment before straightening up as she called out the first name.

The sorting ceremony had begun.

...

It wasn't long before more than half of the students had been sorted, the next name to come up was the girl from the train; that had come up to them on some sort of hunt for a frog, Hermione Granger.

The hat had spent quite a bit of time, likely the most amount when compared to everyone else, before it settled on Gryffindor, the girl's eyes lighting up before she made her way over to the table.

The next to follow was Malfoy, the loudmouth who had interrupted everyone else on the staircase. Not that he'd paid him much attention then.

Of all the students he'd gotten a glimpse of so far, he was the only that fit into the whole pureblood idea he'd learned off from his grandfather.

Particularly the bigotted kind. Which, really...

At least his grandfather was right about one thing!

The hat, on the other hand, didn't even touch his head, out of fear of corruption maybe? Before it quickly threw him into Slytherin. Which really hurt his hope for his future house. Provided he got that far.

Greengrass was next, and as predicted she was off to Slytherin, with a smile on her face. As she passed him, he almost couldn't help the wink he gave off. One that, for whatever reason, earned him an exasperated expression in return. And frankly, it was rather amusing to witness and even somewhat helped calm his own nerves!

The ginger could've been trolley criminal was next; the hat for a moment seemed to enjoy tormenting him, judging by the boy's face, before pushing him towards his family members in Gryffindor. After a couple of strangers were put through, Tracey's turn came up, and like Daphne, before her, it didn't take long before she was also put into Slytherin.

'Curious,' The girl didn't seem like she belonged there, or was it done merely because the girl had thought been with her friend would make it easier? Which brought the better question out; did the hat take into account what the students wanted? It had certainly given off that vibe when it was Harry Potters turn, and hadn't that been a surprise?

And here he'd thought the Boy-Who-Lived was the Weasley's, as he'd learned the red-head family was called, infidelity child!

He was so glad he'd yet to speak with either of them. and judging by the sorting, he likely wasn't going to.

Still, almost everyone expected him in Gryffindor, which hadn't made it a surprise to see him in fact go there.

Before long, everyone else had been sorted. The professor having finally called out his name albeit after once again staring at said name in clear confusion, and as he suspected they seemed to have no knowledge of his family name.

The headmaster seemed to, well, react to the fact the standing professor had only called out a single name.

Reaching the hat, a small part him hopeful it also wouldn't know of his family name, Rodrick promptly found himself taken back the moment he put it on.

'...I haven't the slightest idea.'

'What?'

'How curious, every attempt at your mind comes back empty-handed.'

'Again, wha-oh, oh! Right. Almost forgot about that..! Uhh, sorry, but- I mean, you could ask me some questions? I am not sure you'll actually be able to read my mind!' He could practically feel his embarrassment (and relief) as he remembered another aspect his grandfather had 'bestowed' upon him.

'Is that right? Well then, it makes this far easier! The ability to hide your mind certainly qualifies you for-' The hat echoed out into his own head, the words immediately causing him to pause on his own thoughts as it called out-

"Slytherin!"

...

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