Sorting Dragons

Sorting Dragons

In all its long centuries of use, the Hogwarts Sorting Hat had never been worn by the likes of the Drabon children. Or so they called themselves among wizarding folk.

True, just a few years previously, the Hat had been quite surprised to discover the magical school's very first werewolf attendee, Remus Lupin. He in himself was a complete novelty to the Hat's beloved home. But then, Godric's old Hat did not share the prejudices and fears that most wizards held against werewolves; as it was able to gaze right into Lupin's very mind and soul, the well-worn piece of apparel (ironically) had wisdom enough to recognize that there was nothing evil or dreadful about the boy's true self. Remus, it could see, possessed great intelligence and bravery, along with one of the kindest hearts the Hat had encountered at Hogwarts.

But the Drabons were an entirely different sort of phenomenon. The Hat had at least heard about werewolves before. However, as it felt itself gently placed onto the head of the first of the Drabons (a girl called Maeve, with determined-looking green eyes and curly brown hair that tickled the Hat's brim) the Sorting Hat immediately became aware of a mental ripple within Maeve's consciousness that startled it into an uncharacteristic silence for several moments. Could this girl really be...?

Maeve shifted slightly on the stool after a bit, and then the Hat was brought back to itself when it heard her inquire, Are you going to talk in my head? Is that how you work?

Er... yes, yes--hello, it greeted her in a slightly embarrassed manner. After all, it prided itself on having the first and the last word with all of the students in their turn. But it had to admit, I was just stunned for a minute when I saw... well, are you really from another world?

A wave of unease moved through the girl's head. The shrewd Hat knew at once that this was an affirmative answer. Besides, there was nothing she could hide from it now that it sat upon her head. The Sorting Hat twitched with glee, now completely intrigued. It almost felt as if its seams would split.

Let's see here... it murmured as it began to probe further into her memories. You are nearly thirteen years old--beginning Hogwarts a year late, I see. ... Ah, held back by your grandfather until your twin cousins were old enough to begin school with you. Why exactly would he do that? You seem quite intelligent and independent to me.

Maeve shrugged before replying, I guess Grandfather wanted to make sure I had, um, others who are like me for company. We keep quite a few secrets from the people of this world. The high-society pureblood wizards think we are "their kind" and so they treat us respectfully and invite us to their parties. My grandfather's always preferred living an upper-crust lifestyle, as we do back home in Hitholos. He wants to make sure the almighty pureblood wizards don't find out anything... unusual about us.

I see. You are imposters of a sort, said the Hat. And your grandfather believes there is strength in numbers. He extends quite an iron grip over his family--a formidable patriarch, this Korbin. As for your parents... It paused, searching an adjacent area of her mind. Then, Oh dear, it said quietly. You poor child. Cursed into complete apathy not long ago. Hardly fit to take care of any offspring, and you've got two small siblings who will have to be raised mostly by your aunt and uncle. Dreadful time you've had these past few years.

But the girl called Maeve seemed to have raised an emotional barrier against the pain brought on by her parents' state. It's not that bad, she insisted. I can take care of myself now; I don't need them to look after me. Rhiannon always visits, and now that Grandfather has an estate here in England with plenty of servants to watch us when we're not at Hogwarts... we get along just fine.

The Hat was silent for another moment. I see the beginnings of a strong will in you, it said at last. It could serve you well, but don't let it master you. I see you and your cousin Rhiannon are very close. She needs you, but you also need her.

I suppose, Maeve responded. She is a very good friend.

Your strongest bond is with her, the Hat confirmed. And I shall be Sorting her in a few minutes, shan't I? It took a moment to gaze over at the crowd of first-year students who were clustered anxiously in front of Maeve on her stool, rather restlessly awaiting their turns, and this made it remember something. There were still dozens of them to go; the Hat had only reached the "D" names, and there was a whole lot of alphabet left.

How much time had it been conversing with Maeve already, anyway? The Hat was not sure if it had ever taken this long before to Sort a student. Glancing next at the long tables of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, it noticed that many of them had begun to squirm in their seats. Here and there, young faces showed expressions of extreme boredom, restlessness, curiosity, and even resentment. Several of the Slytherins were scowling, it realized.

Ah, let the snakes hiss at me all they like. The Hat was not about to pronounce Maeve's House assignment until it had probed her fascinating mind and history as much as it could. You would think Rowena had created me, it chuckled to itself.

All right, Maeve Drabon, it said, returning to converse with her psyche once more, let's see what else I can discover about you before Professor McGonagall snatches me right off your head. I would like to know more about Hitholos, and... and Drabon isn't really your last name at all, I see!

No; it's a shortening of Dragonborn, the girl replied. Grandfather thinks our real surname would cause the wizards to ask too many questions, and so he turned it into something that sounds French, in my opinion.

You speak a smattering of French, the Hat discovered. You and your cousins studied at a Muggle primary school, I see. But as for the name Dragonborn... It just had to know, had to have its suspicions confirmed. And soon they were. Yes, a very literally descriptive name! You are descended from shape-shifting dragons!

The Hat took a few more moments to soak in this new revelation. It had just received its second large surprise of the day--indeed, of its entire existence--and felt quite overwhelmed. First a werewolf, and now it seems that Hogwarts has enrolled three more magical creatures, it thought to itself. Magical beings, that is. This girl isn't exactly the same kind of dragon we have here on planet Earth. For one thing, as a female she cannot take reptilian form; she is physically an ordinary girl, although her kind may live to be several hundreds of years old.

To Maeve it continued, Well, well, well. You are a most fascinating new student, Miss "Drabon." A draconian descendent from a different dimension. What will Dumbledore ask me to Sort next? A vegetarian vampire?

The girl chuckled politely inside her head, but the Hat could tell she was growing impatient to be Sorted and be on her way. Are you ever going to choose a House for me? she asked.

I suppose I ought to make my pronouncement before Dumbledore himself stands up and tells me to get on with it, the Sorting Hat replied. I have already chosen your House, by the way. As I've been delving through your memories, I have observed a great many things about you, Maeve. It has taken true bravery to face a lot of the trials you have had to endure so far in your young life. You value courage, honor, and loyal friendships more than anything else, as did my creator, Godric Gryffindor. I believe he would be proud to accept you into his House. And so I wish you every success as I place you in...

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted for the hearing of all.

There was a rather relieved smattering of applause from the ranks of students awaiting their dinner at the four long tables. As Maeve lifted the Hat from her head and placed it back onto the stool, it felt wistful to have parted ways with her intriguing mind. But there's always the next Dragonborn, it remembered as it watched Maeve take a seat next to Sirius Black and his little gang, who were now in their seventh and final year. And there was Remus Lupin, prefect, politely welcoming his newest fellow Gryffindor.

Then the Great Hall fell silent once again, and Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and read the next name off her list. "Drabon, Neil."

A boy with reddish-brown hair and glasses stepped forward. The Hat barely had time to catch the intelligent gleam in his blue-green eyes before it was brusquely scooped up and settled carefully onto the small head. This one means business, it thought to itself.

Well, young master Drabon, it greeted the boy, I have already met your cousin, and now I am pleased to make your acquaintance.

Neil's consciousness rippled with a touch of surprise at the voice in his head, but his brain quickly adjusted to accept what he was hearing. Er, hello, he said. So this is how you work.

Yes, I can read and speak in your mind, the Hat confirmed. And what a keen mind you have. I believe you shall be an easy placement for me to make. But first I would like to do a bit more searching.

Now the boy was puzzled. Searching for what?

The Hat chuckled. Searching through your past, your memories. I know what you and your family are.

Well... I guess you would, wouldn't you, Neil responded wisely, seeing as how you've already been on Maeve's head. In fact, I bet that's why you were taking so long with her--trying to find out as much as you could about us?

Quite right, said the Hat. My compliments on your perceptiveness.

A surge of pride rushed through the boy. He admitted, I'd be very interested, myself, in your place.

That you would; you have a strong thirst for knowledge. I might as well tell you now that I am going to place you in Ravenclaw.

The House "for those who have a ready mind," Neil quoted from the Sorting Hat's song of earlier.

Indeed. And now, let me explore your ready mind and see if I can learn some more about Hitholos.

The Hat took its time once again, but it did not linger as long as it had with Maeve. Neil proved a good source of knowledge about the Otherworld from which the Dragonborns hailed. Its history, geography, and political structuring, its customs and different people groups... this young Dragonborn had already studied his home world thoroughly. It seemed the boy was constantly reading in his spare time. Yes, definitely Ravenclaw material, the Hat thought.

Before making its decision public, it took a few more moments to examine the boy's personal life. His father, Donovan, was the younger of Korbin Dragonborn's two sons, and a quiet and steady man. Neil's mother was named Ariadne, and she was a vivacious and affectionate woman whom Neil loved dearly.

Last came the boy's twin sister, Rhiannon. Though he was only ten minutes her elder, the Hat observed with amusement, Neil often treated her as though she were ten years younger. The Hat could see that the boy had good enough intentions, but a brilliant head tended to become a swollen head, and Neil apparently felt it his duty to protect and to watch over his sister at all times--and this often involved keeping her out of mischief, as she loved to pull pranks with Maeve.

Those two lasses are going to be a handful for their professors, I expect, it thought, searching the crowd of still-waiting first years for Neil's twin. Ah, there she stood--same reddish-brown hair and pale skin, but without glasses. She had small, pixie-like features that were currently twisted into a nervous sort of expression; her dark brown eyes were fixed upon her brother.

I can see that your sister is rather anxiously awaiting her turn, it told Neil. It was a pleasure to pick your brain, and now I wish you luck as I Sort you into...

"RAVENCLAW!" it declared to the Hall at large.

Goodbye, thought Neil as he lifted the Hat off his head and carefully replaced it on the stool. It watched as he, too, joined the ranks at his new House table to a mildly enthusiastic round of applause.

It was time for Professor McGonagall to read the third and last Drabon name from her list. "Drabon, Rhiannon," she called.

The girl stumbled slightly as she came forward, glancing over her shoulder as if uncomfortable with all of those gazes upon her. Timidly she picked up the Sorting Hat and slipped it over her eyes, and the Hat felt a surge of relief pass through her as the rest of the Hall disappeared from her view.

This girl's mind was quite a different place from her two relatives'. At first it seemed a confused bundle of emotions until the Hat delved further, past these, to discover a calm and logical center. The sharp contrast in mental levels threw the Hat off for a moment, and it realized that Sorting Rhiannon would take a bit of time.

Good evening, Miss Dragonborn, it greeted her, using her real last name to provoke a reaction.

Sure enough, surprise registered, and she started to ask, How did you know my...? Then she stopped. Wait a minute. I bet you found out from my brother and my cousin.

Right you are, the Hat replied. Clever one, too, aren't you?

You mean clever like Neil? she asked, sounding slightly disbelieving.

I should say so, the Hat confirmed. It probed a little, then added, Yes, I can tell that you possess an equally strong intelligence that could serve you well in Ravenclaw... except that you do not seem to rely upon your wits as much as he does. Or study nearly as hard. Hmmm.

If it was possible for brainwaves to exude sheepishness, Rhiannon's now did so. I keep up with my schoolwork as much as I need to, she defended. But I'm not about to bury myself in books at the expense of having fun.

The Hat chuckled. Yes, I see. Actually, a lot of Ravenclaws do coast by on their natural abilities without putting in very much time at the library. Still, I hesitate to send you straight there, due to your somewhat... eclectic nature.

It fell silent then, concentrating on weighing and balancing the girl's various character traits to see which might tip the scales in favor of a particular House. There was little suited toward Slytherin in her--thank goodness it could rule that one out. As for Hufflepuff, well, the girl was quite kind, compassionate, and loyal to her friends, but not quite so hard-working or steady. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw now vied for the decision.

She does live by a code of honor and integrity, and she has bravely faced her share of intimidating situations, it learned. Not as many as Maeve has, and she has been much more sheltered thus far. Still, she could fit into Gryffindor well enough. What to do, what to do...?

Rhiannon sat patiently for a while, humming a little tune in her head, while the Hat groped around for a tie-breaker. Finally the girl could rein in her curiosity no longer and inquired, What exactly are you doing now in my head? Have you got lost among the neurons and synapses?

Somewhat taken aback, but nonetheless amused, the Hat tutted and responded, You aren't making this easy for me, you know. If you hadn't got so many layers to peel back and search through, I could have had you on your way by now. Incidentally, did you know that females are usually the ones who present me with this problem?

It doesn't surprise me. I always knew boys were a lot more simple-minded, she giggled.

Even growing up with a brother like yours? The Hat would have raised an eyebrow if it had had one.

Rhiannon snorted. He doesn't count--and he's always been his own strange case, anyway.

How do you know he doesn't think the same about you? the Hat teased.

Oh, I'll bet he does, she answered good-naturedly. I'd be disappointed if not. But tell me, since you've just been on his head--is Neil's mind a scary place or what?

Now the Hat couldn't help but chuckle. No scarier than yours, it replied. And now, young Rhiannon, I must reach a decision about your House placement before the night is over and the feast goes cold. Which is it to be--Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?

Do you mean that you're going to let me choose? Rhiannon queried, sounding incredulous.

I have occasionally allowed students to decide a tie-breaker, yes, the Hat said.

Wow. Excellent, the girl thought with a grin. So I can tell you whether I'm going to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Well... I don't know a whole lot about what it's like to be in any of the four Houses, but I can tell you that I wish to go to Gryffindor because you've already sent Maeve there. It would be wonderful to have my cousin as a roommate and a classmate. So please send me to be with her.

As you wish, the Hat consented. But just as it was about to open its slit of a mouth and declare this decision to the entire Great Hall, Rhiannon quickly interrupted with one last question.

Wait a minute, she said; there's one more thing I have to know. Does Maeve think I'm...? She hesitated, as if unsure how to phrase the question. The Hat waited, and finally she settled on the more general, What does Maeve really think about me? Please, will you tell me? she asked apprehensively.

The Hat turned serious. That is a rather private issue, young miss, and one that I do not feel I should discuss with you, on principle. Everyone is entitled to his or her own completely private thoughts and feelings. Do not mistake me--I am not saying that Maeve is having bad thoughts or feelings about you. It is just that I am honor-bound not to reveal such information as you request.

I understand, the girl said contritely. I guess I'll have to accept my own observations at face value.

You are one for analyzing everything. Are you sure I shouldn't place you in Ravenclaw?

No, please--I would dearly like to be with Maeve.

And not with Neil, your own brother?

Rhiannon shrugged. Well, I'll probably be in some classes with him, anyway, and I imagine we'll see each other around the castle quite a bit. Besides, being in separate Houses will give me a break from his constant vigilance, which sometimes gets on my nerves.

I see, the Hat smiled inwardly. Very well. I expect you shall be a great companion for your cousin, as she shall be for you. I wish you well in--

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And then the Hat was lifted from the last of the Drabon children's heads.

The rest of its evening was not nearly so interesting; but then, the Hat hadn't expected it to be. After it had finished Sorting the rest of the new first years, Professor McGonagall carried it back to Headmaster Dumbledore's office, as had been her duty for the last several years.

"Thank you, old friend," she told it while setting it upon a cozy, cushioned shelf. "But next time would you please try to keep the ceremony shorter than two hours?"

"Minerva, Minerva," it chuckled. "If only you could have seen what I have just seen inside some of those new students' heads. Particularly... well, would I be correct in assuming that Albus has confided in you regarding the, er, situation of the Drabons?"

McGonagall nodded. "He has told me several interesting things about them, although I am still rather confused about the nature of their magical abilities. He says they should be able to perform wizarding spells with magic wands--and probably excel in their studies. I just hope that they can fit in with their peers well enough, and that those two girls who have joined my House will not require excessive disciplinary action."

"Time will tell," the Hat said obscurely, enjoying its private knowledge of the girls' mischievous habits and deciding not to let McGonagall catch premature wind of such things. After all, privacy is privacy.

When McGonagall had left it alone again, the Hat settled down for a snooze in its comfortable little niche. It was awakened an hour or so later when Dumbledore returned to his office to sort out a few things before heading off to bed himself.

"Good show this evening... if a bit lengthy," the headmaster greeted it, his azure eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

"Thank you, Albus. And let me just say, I was quite surprised at a few certain new students you've accepted this year. I believe you know exactly which three to whom I am referring."

"Indeed." Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, indeed, the Drabon family... my most peculiar acquaintances, I must say. And judging from the amount of time I observed you spending on each of their heads, I would guess that you were exploring certain peculiarities in their minds as well."

"You know me well by now, Albus," the Hat conceded. "I couldn't help myself--I had to examine their fascinating young minds as much as I could."

"Of course you did. And I hope those minds are sharp and ready to begin their training at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I believe they are. You will not be disappointed in them, Albus. And I shall be very interested in hearing about the future endeavors and escapades of these children at our school."

Again Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "So shall I," he told the Hat. "So shall I."