And desires
"GRYFFINDOR!!"
I ripped the hat off my head and passed it to McGonagall. She gave me a wide smile in return, reminding me that she was Gryffindor's head of house. My new head of house. I smiled back at her and hurried to the last table on the left amidst raucous applause. Kenneth Towler, from Cedric's compartment, got to his feet and whistled enthusiastically for me. I smiled, waved at him briefly, and accepted the seat he opened up for me. Coincidentally, it was also far away from the red-haired prefect from the train and the twins that had accosted us.
As I sat, I checked on Amy. She still looked scared, so I gave her a quick thumbs up. She didn't relax completely, but she didn't look ready to bolt anymore. Good.
Kenneth raised his empty glass in my direction. "Welcome to Gryffindor, house of the brave."
"And stuff."
"And stuff, stuffing, etc... It's been awhile since we last won the cup but who knows? Maybe this'll be the year. It's also been awhile since there's been a hatstall. You had us all worried there."
"A hatstall?
"When the hat takes a long time choosing, just like that. You were definitely up there for more than five minutes."
"Oh." I paused to applaud politely as Wayne Hopkins was sorted into Hufflepuff. I spotted Cedric clapping on the table furthest from me. "It was considering all four of the houses, to be honest."
"Wow, that's unusual. The hat actually considered Ravenclaw for me, but just for a moment." He said, and I shrugged as the sorting continued.
I finished tagging everybody in the hall, taking more care to be discreet now that the threat of a mind-reading hat blowing my cover was no longer looming over me. Of course, it could still screw us, but I had a feeling it wouldn't. And Amy still had to put it on too. I spelt 'looks okay' with some ants on her palm, letter by letter, as her turn crept up. Neville Longbottom, the boy from the train, was surprisingly sorted into Gryffindor after hatstalling like me. But confirming Cedric's predictions, Draco Malfoy became a Slytherin. The hat wasn't on his head more than a second or two. It wasn't much longer before a set of twins, that were curiously Sorted into different houses, finished their turns and McGonagall announced: "Potter, Amy!"
Like a switch had been thrown, whispering filled the hall. People craned their necks to better see Amy or, I suspected, her scar. Besides me, Kenneth nudged me, asking me if I knew her. I kept my eyes trained on Amy. She still looked afraid but now she was also resolute. I remembered seeing that expression on her face before. I had seen it briefly at the bank and, not so long ago, when she'd taken my hand and climbed onto Sirius behind me. I clenched my fists on my thighs when she shoved the hat on her head and the tension in the room skyrocketed.
But it was over in an instant.
"GRYFFINDOR!!" bellowed the hat.
The table around me erupted into a ruckus, cheering, clapping and yelling. I joined them, relieved at the outcome. Not only had nothing suspicious happened, we had also ended up in the same house. Even people at the other tables applauded enthusiastically, except those seated at Slytherin, where there was only the occasional polite clapping. I'd already picked up on the rivalry between the snake house and the lion house but this seemed like something more. I couldn't read the mood from the whole table but before they'd been excited. Hopeful? Now the mood veered far more towards anger and disappointment.
My musings were interrupted by Amy, who slumped down on the seat next to me. "Congratulations." I offered, but it was lost among all the cheer that the table was directing at
her. In the middle of the older teens, our eleven year old selves looked small and easily overrun. Still, it calmed down rather quickly, since McGonagall was glaring daggers at the whole table.
Amy stiffened as somebody gave her a last slap on the back and turned to me, softly so that only I could hear. "Thanks. I guess. I'm starting to regret it, honestly." I tilted my head and she whispered to me. "I feel like we got sorted into the place with the highest concentration of jocks."
I gave Gryffindor's table a once over. "And class clowns."
She snorted. "True. But hey, at least we're in this together."
The sorting didn't last much longer, there were only a few students left. The red-haired boy that had run away in the train, a Ronald Weasley, was also sorted into Gryffindor, joining his brothers. The Weasley family had six sons, Kenneth explained to us, all Gryffindors. For the old magical families, apparently the house you were sorted into was in the blood, or so superstition said. We were both, however, more of the opinion that children were just raised in a way that made them want to be in a certain house, taught to value certain traits over others.
The sorting complete, McGonagall took away the hat and the stool. The headmaster stood and the hall quieted. Albus Dumbledore was more of a wizard than any magic user I'd seen to date. He looked like Gandalf with his long silver hair and beard, and he commanded the hall's entire attention with his sheer presence. I could tell he was powerful, but his smile of pride, of grandfatherly affection even, reminded me of Santa Claus. He just had a trustworthy air about him.
"Welcome." Dumbledore looked down on the students gathered and opened his arms wide. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you and tuck in!"
I had been so focused on him that I almost missed the actual banquet appearing out of nowhere. Suddenly, the table that had only possessed golden cutlery also boasted an enormous quantity of food and drink served in equally golden platters and bowls.
"Did he just… conjure all of this from thin air?" Wondered Amy as she looked suspiciously but greedily at a delicious looking roast beef.
"No way." Kenneth answered her, leaning forward to grab a plate of sausages. "You can't eat conjured food. Gawp's Law, you'll learn it in Transfiguration. Speaking of which, I also wouldn't recommend transfigured food, unless you really trust the transfigurer's skills. The food is actually prepared down in the kitchens and the actual magic is transporting it up here."
"Is that what he did?" I asked.
"I… don't think so?" Kenneth paused. "No, can't be. Dumbledore isn't even present at every lunch and dinner. The plates must be charmed to appear and disappear according to some signal."
Around the table, the conversation circulated. Tales about what people had done during summer, plans and complaints for and about the new school year, a few academic topics and, with the new first years, introductions. One horror story circulated about Neville who, we learned to our horror, had been thrown out of a window by his uncle to find out whether Neville had magic when he was just a little boy. I noticed with interest that our new classmates were of varied origins, and that the girls seemed of an amenable sort. It didn't look like I was going to have problems within Gryffindor, at least. On the contrary, I was warned about going into the dungeons alone or trusting the Slytherins with anything important, because finding 'a decent snake' was akin to finding a needle in a haystack.
The House ghost, Sir Nicholas Mimsy the Nearly Headless, came by to welcome us to Gryffindor, drawing more attention to Amy again. Shortly after he'd left, I detected Amy trying hiding a wince. I had a spider move from under her robes to the skin of her ankle. She started violently and snapped her head towards me. I sent her a questioning look. Amy shook her head. "Nothing," she said, rubbing her forehead, "It's just been a long day."
I decided to leave it at that, for now. That hadn't been just a normal headache.
Dinner was filling, but very heavy. Far heavier than what I was used to eat. It wasn't that the foods were greasy or such, but there was an overabundance of meats and other products that had to be more traditionally British or even Scottish. There was barely any fish, though I was assured that wasn't always the case, and the salads left something to be desired. The main drink was also pumpkin juice, though they did have water and other juices, of which I settled for grape juice. Nonetheless, the food was great, very well cooked and seemingly unending. Despite my renewed metabolism, I was full after one good serving. In the meanwhile, Amy had demolished two and half plates full of food with an ease that her thin frame didn't convey. And this was after having spent the whole afternoon sleeping and snacking on a multitude of sweets and pastries. I had my theories about that too.
The platters with main courses had slowly been replaced by deserts and as the dinner wound down, around nine and a half in the evening, Dumbledore once again rose and clapped his hands. The leftover food disappeared much in the same way it had appeared and the hall fell silent.
"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years, note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils." His eyes twinkled with mirth and he turned just very slightly to the Gryffindor table. "And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Then his countenance turned serious, his voice a whisper that carried into every ear, magic or not, I couldn't tell. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
There were a few scattered laughs, but they were the exceptions. The teachers who hadn't lost their smiles were faking them now, and the older students looked uncomfortable and some even scared. A few murmurs broke the now stifling silence. Across from us, an elder girl commented on how odd and weird this was, even for the old wizard. Amy meet my eyes, pale and I nodded, my own mind whirring.
Dumbledore than called for the school song, but I tuned it out, only mechanically following along.
An idea had taken a hold of my mind. Assuming we were indeed in an illusion of some sort, controlled or designed by an intelligence of some sort… the headmaster's warning was a blatant red flag. An unusual event, some unscripted change to the world as it was presented? No, not unscripted. Before, I was thinking of the script, of the template that Hogwarts was built around, as based on a normal school. I assumed that our enemies would introduce or change elements to confuse and harm us. This event could just be the start of it.
But, what if it was part of the script all along? What if the underlying foundation of the illusion wasn't static, but flowing? Like a book, an adventure in a fantastic boarding school… or a game?
Powers were quirky, so there was no reason it couldn't be a possibility. It was Über and Leet's style… but with psychological twists right up Jack's alley. Just a glimmer of hope that we could free ourselves.
We just had to beat this 'game', first.
*
Oh, another difficult one…. Mmmm….
Well, you sound rather sure, are you sure that's what you want? Perhaps another house would fit you better. In Hufflepuff, you could make life-long friends; in Slytherin, you could be....
I see, I see. Well, if you insist so much, then I suppose that the best house for you could just be-
. And having an in with a future major player in the wizarding society might as well be the philosopher's stone for reporters. 
