George & Annie: an Unofficial Biography

Chapter 52: Sorting

September 1, 2009

Art had lain awake for nearly an hour, staring at the tropical fish swimming about on the ceiling. He glanced at the clock for the thirty-forth time since he woke up.

Today I am ten years, ten months old. 10.83 years old. 120 months old. 3,895.25 days old. 93,485.5 hours old, he said to himself, his mind running through the familiar calculations like water running through a riverbed.

"Are you awake?" his brother asked him from the next bed, interrupting him.

"Of course."

"I think I hear Mum in the kitchen," he said.

Art sniffed the air. "Smells like pancakes."

Fred sat up and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. "She's making us our favorite this morning."

"To say goodbye," Art added.

He hopped out of bed and began to dress. It was nearly as exciting as Christmas, he reckoned. He'd been looking forward to this morning in much the same way, counting down the days. And just like the last few days before a holiday, time had seemed to creep by at a snail's pace for the last week.

He opened the trunk that sat at the foot of his bed once more, rifling through the neatly arranged contents, confirming again that everything that was required, necessary, or wanted was in its proper place. It was. There was never any doubt, really. He had been packed for two days already.

Downstairs, Mum had made a huge breakfast of her special pancakes. He wondered if he would miss it much: seeing her every morning before school, eating breakfast and supper at home with his little sisters, sleeping in his own bed. While the food he had eaten at Hogwarts over the years had always tasted very good - for he had eaten lunch there nearly every day for five years - it was almost, but not quite as delicious as Mum's. He imagined his younger Weasley and Potter cousins might feel differently in the future, however, when it was their turn to start at school. Aunt Ginny's and Uncle Harry's cooking was certainly edible, and Aunt Fleur had her better dishes, but Aunt Hermione's was just plain gross, in his opinion. No wonder Hugo was such a pip-squeak.

The stack of pancakes on his plate was now gone, and his stomach was feeling comfortably stuffed. Art glanced around the table at his family while he sat sipping orange juice. Dad was reading the morning's paper, as usual. Joey was making a mess with syrup spread nose to chin and ear to ear, and would likely have to be changed again before they left. Janie was reading a book. The little girls had no idea what was happening today, and likely wouldn't care too much if they did, he figured.

Mum was smiling at all of them, but he sensed she was not exactly happy about today. Putting on a brave face, that's what it was called: what his mother was doing. Even though she had never once said it aloud where Art could hear her, he knew she was not thrilled about sending any of her children away from her to live at Hogwarts. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

But then again, what mother would be? Mums were like that, weren't they? Always wanted to pretend their kids were babies forever.

Merrie was sitting next to him, sniffling occasionally. She really doesn't want us to leave, he reckoned. Art felt a small pang of sympathy for his favorite little sister. I'll really miss her, too, he thought. And then he belched.

Now, as a typical ten-year-old's brain is often like to do, his mind switched gears. However, unlike a typical ten-year-old, he began to ponder the chemical composition of the gasses contained in the belch.... Whether or not any of them were flammable.... How the flash points of said gasses compared to that of petrol.... How small, controlled explosions (sort of like belches) propelled a car's engine.... How they would be driving almost 170 miles today in their own car....

Once everyone was finished eating, it was time to load their trunks into the Toyota. Fred and Art grunted and pushed and pulled and heaved the things down the stairs, out the door, down the pathway and into the garage. Their dad was waiting for them there, and opened the rear door of the car.

"Tell me again why we can't just locomotor them, Dad?" Art asked, huffing with the effort while his father smiled at him.

"You think I got to locomotor my trunk to school?" his father said jokingly.

"Probably not," Art said, affecting an exaggerated sigh and rolling his eyes, clearly indicating how lame he thought this excuse was.

"But you weren't a genius, like us," joked Fred, grinning broadly.

"Smart-ass trumps clever any day of the week, son," he laughed. "And nobody beats me there." Then he reached into his pocket, winking at them. "Don't tell your mum...." The trunks hopped themselves into the car.

Everybody piled in and they started off by seven a.m. in order to make it to the train station on time. Art and his brother sat in the back seat on either side of Merrie. They spent the first part of the trip telling her jokes and funny stories to try to cheer her up. She would giggle at first, then sigh again each time, as if every story they told her reminded her of how much she would miss them when they were gone. They tried playing some road games instead, like Bury Your Cows and Road Sign Alphabet and Slugbug. Without having to say anything to each other, Fred and Art let Merrie win every time.

Art's younger sisters were sitting in the middle row, still in car seats. Joey got obnoxiously whiney about halfway through the three-hour-plus trip, so she got a "special" lollipop from Dad. Five minutes later she was fast asleep, and she napped the rest of the way into London. It made Art smile, remembering how he was nearly eight before he figured out that Dad had always slipped a sleeping potion into the sweets he doled out to them on road trips.

Looking out the window now, Art could see things begin looking busier. There were more cars on the road, houses were closer together, buildings getting taller. It was not the first time he'd been to London, but it was the first time he was on his way to Kings Cross Station.

He glanced at the wristwatch Mum and Dad had given him on his first day of school, five years ago. 10:05 a.m. Less than an hour to go!

They finally arrived at the large, busy station. His dad parked the car in the car park deep underground next to the station, then gave them muggle coins to go fetch two trolleys for the trunks. Art became a bit distracted by the trolley vending machine, fascinated by the buttons and the note acceptor. He got down on his hands and knees to examine the cart release mechanism in action while Fred fed his money into the machine. Once they got both carts free, they raced each other back to car, nearly crashing into a van trying to exit. Art and his brother tugged and wrestled their trunks onto the trolleys, then the family took the lift into the station.

Kings Cross Station was almost as busy as he remembered the airport being back when they were four. Muggles were rushing about everywhere. Real muggle trains were waiting on tracks in every direction he looked. Art now fervently wished they had left the house even earlier, so he could spend more time exploring this amazing place! He was looking longingly at the trains on tracks nine and ten when his father began to speak to them.

"Watch these kids in front of you, now," he said, indicating two second-year Hufflepuffs Art recognized by sight but not by name. "See how you must take it at a good clip? Then remember to clear out of the way so you don't get run over by whoever's coming behind. You two go through it first, and we'll be there in another minute."

His father paused, looking carefully about them to make sure no one was paying attention who shouldn't be. "Now... GO!"

Art pushed the heavy cart with all his might, and quickly got up to speed. He felt a thrill of excitement as the wall loomed larger and larger in front of him. He tucked his head down, glancing at his watch one last time: 10:45 a.m. - nearly there! He heard an odd sort of whooshing sound as he passed through the space between the atoms of the wall, then loud gushes of steam being released by the steam train on the track that had just appeared next to him.

Art stood frozen in place, amazed, attempting to process what had just happened to him. I have just passed through solid matter... because I wanted to!

"ARGH!" he cried out in pain three seconds later when Fred crashed his cart into his heels because he forgot to keep moving.

"Watch where you're going, bloody git!" Art yelled.

"Why the hell did you stop, moron?" Fred yelled back.

"Open your goddamn eyes!"

"Move your stupid ass out of the way!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

Then Dad brought Mum and his sisters through the barricade. He began to chuckle once he saw them bickering, immediately assuming - correctly - what had happened.

"Ten-fifty, boys. Get your trunks on the train, you lot," he said.

Merrie was openly weeping now, hugging Art and his brother, making them promise to write her all the time. Even Mum was getting a bit teary, but at least she wasn't making a production of it. One hug and kiss for each of them, then she handed them a box. "It's a little something to tide you over until you get to school. Promise to share it, you two," she said softly, tousling first Art's hair, then Fred's.

"Mum!" they each protested, ducking away.

Then Dad patted them on the shoulder, and handed them a galleon each. "Get yourself something from the trolley," he told them. "And please swear you will write back to Merrie, tomorrow morning at the latest."

The brothers nodded, promising to do their best and try to behave and stay safe and write often and blah blah blah. They were finally rescued from the goodbyes that seemed as if they would never come to an end when Teddy Lupin came dashing up to them.

"Fred! Art!" he cried, an elated look on his face. This was to be his first year at school, and the three of them had been talking about it all summer long. They had made detailed plans for a year full of fun and adventures, now that the three best friends would be living together at school, far removed from any parental glares.

The clock on the wall said it was 10:55. It was time to board the train and find a place to sit. Art's heart was racing, and he couldn't stop smiling in his excitement.

"Let's find a compartment," offered Fred, and the three boys climbed aboard the famous scarlet steam train.

As the train began to move, they leaned out the window to wave for a minute at the people they were leaving behind on the platform. Art noticed Dad had now picked Merrie up and was patting her back, trying to comfort her sobs. Mum and Teddy's grandmother were waving back, arms about each other's waists, sad smiles on their faces. Joey and Janie were jumping up and down, screaming and waving and laughing at the spectacle.

The three of them sat back into their seats.

"What did your mum pack for you?" asked Teddy, nodding to indicate the box on the seat next to Art.

Art shrugged, then opened the box. "Mmm! Looks like chocolate chip cookies, banana muffins and strawberry scones," he answered, pulling out a cookie.

"Share!" demanded Teddy, holding out his hand as Fred reached in and drew out a scone. Teddy liked to imagine that since he was older than the twins, he could boss them around.

"Earn it," laughed Art through a mouthful of cookie.

"Impress us," added Fred, dangling the scone in front of their friend.

Teddy pretended to sneeze, and two dark green, squirming tentacles began growing out of his nostrils, reaching toward the box.

"Wicked!" cheered the twins in unison, holding out the box and offering a reward. Art reckoned one of the best things about Teddy was that he was a Metamorphmagus, just like his mother had been, or so they'd been told. And despite the fact that his dirty-streaky blonde hair always looked shaggy and unkempt, no matter how recently it had been trimmed; and his bushy, mad-scientist-like eyebrows looked utterly out of place on his eleven-year-old face; and whenever he laughed really hard it sounded disturbingly like a howl, Teddy was not a werewolf like his father.

Teddy grabbed a muffin and began to eat it, once he sniffed the tentacles back up into his nose.

For first hour or so of the voyage, it was just the three of them. Teddy asked loads of questions about the castle and the grounds, every one of them asked and answered five times before over the summer, but once more Art and Fred shared their knowledge enthusiastically with their oldest and dearest friend.

"So, will we have any classes together, at all?" Teddy asked, slightly hopeful.

"Nah, mate," Fred replied gently, while Art shook his head. Even though the three boys were the same age, all riding the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and tonight would be Sorted into houses, Art and Fred were first years in residence terms only. Academically, the twins were considered fifth years in all subjects but charms, and Flitwick was now meeting with them privately for lessons in advanced charm theory once a week. While Teddy would be spending his time this year learning to use his new wand for the first time, Fred and Art would be preparing themselves to take OWLs in June.

Just then there was a knock on the compartment door. The twins looked up and waved in a tall boy.

"There you are! I've been looking up and down this bloody train for you!" exclaimed Henry Babbitt, a fifth year Ravenclaw and friend of the twins. Art noticed he was wearing a "River and Wrackspurt" t-shirt; apparently he was a fan of his father's muggle music show on the wireless. Somehow his dad's identity as co-host was still a secret, although pretty much everyone knew "River" was Roxy's dad, Lee Jordan. Art's father had been rather surprised to learn how popular the two of them, and their show, currently were on campus.

"Good summer, Henry?" asked Art.

Henry nodded. "You?"

"Excellent. Dad and Mum took us to India," Art said.

"Cool," said Henry, sounding impressed. "Did you finish the runes translation for Babbling?" he asked, flopping down on the empty seat next to Teddy.

Art nodded, but Fred answered, "Nearly... I'll do the last paragraph later today."

"Beast of a thing, wasn't it?" Henry moaned.

"Oh, yeah," Art agreed out of politeness. He had thought it was no big deal, but didn't like the look on people's faces when he contradicted them about things like that. He glanced at his brother, who looked back at him with a slight smile. The only reason Fred hadn't finished was that he was even more of a homework procrastinator than Art.

"I'm Ted," Teddy added, offering his hand to the newcomer.

"Hey," said Henry in friendly greeting, shaking it. "You a first year?"

Teddy nodded.

"Thought I didn't recognize you," commented Henry, who then turned back to the twins. "Which house do you think you'll Sort into?" he asked, bubbling with curiosity now that Teddy had offered him a perfect segue into the subject he was most interested in.

"Gryffindor, most likely," Fred replied, rehashing a conversation he and Art had had at least a hundred times before. "The whole family's been Gryffindors for generations...."

"But it could be any of them, couldn't it?" asked Henry, sounding as if he was still trying to keep hope alive.

Art realized it was a strange and unique situation he and his brother found themselves in. Fred and Art were already well known throughout the student body at Hogwarts, having attended classes for the last five years, but were only now going to be Sorted into one of the houses themselves. And it seemed that, because of their reputation for being clever, their fellow students must be figuring that opportunities for earning house points abounded if Art and his brother became their housemates. Added to the fact that they were well-liked in general, the Weasley twins found themselves in the position of being quite desirable commodities amongst their schoolmates. No other first years were being approached by older students, or asked a similar question. Art was somewhat pleased, but equally made uncomfortable by this fact.

Art shrugged. "Sure. But Dad would do his nut if we got put in Slytherin, that's for sure," he said.

"Probably disown us," agreed Fred, nodding.

"Make things a bit awkward at holidays, wouldn't it?" added Art.

"What's so bad about Slytherin?" asked Teddy, trying to join the conversation.

"Oh, nothing, really," assured Art, sincerely. "I know lots of them, and they're fine, for the most part. Maybe a bit... self-centered? A few of them, anyway. But Dad... well, let's say he's just a bit prejudiced."

His brother Fred added a loud, "Ha!" at this understatement. "Dad has a real doxy up his ass about Slytherin."

All four boys laughed at the crude humor.

"Have you seen Padraig?" Fred asked Henry, referring to another fifth year Ravenclaw boy they were friends with.

Henry smiled. "Er... yeah. But don't bother him at the moment... he's busy."

"Did he leave the translation to the last minute as well?" asked Art.

Henry laughed, shaking his head. "Not busy with homework. Busy with Radha Singh."

The twins looked quizzically at Henry.

Henry rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I forget you two are only eleven."

"Ten, actually," Art corrected him, out of habit. They would not turn eleven until Halloween, in two months' time.

"Whatever. You'll figure it out in a few years," he said, chuckling, as he rose to leave. "See you later...."

Now that Teddy had his friends' attention once more, he began asking them about the different Hogwarts houses. The twins explained to their friend the various pros and cons of each house: the locations and attributes of the dorms and Common rooms - for they had often been invited to study with their classmates from all four houses - as well as the unifying characteristics for each one.

"But isn't that boring - if everyone in your house is the same as you?" Teddy asked.

"Well, just because all the Hufflepuffs are determined, and Ravenclaws are clever, doesn't mean there aren't loads of differences between individual people. You're not guaranteed to like everyone in your own house, and there's no reason you can't be best mates with someone from another house," argued Fred.

"Yeah," agreed Art. "You just might have a few more things in common with your housemates, personality-wise," he added. "And that could be a good thing or a bad thing, I suppose. I mean, if you believe that all Slytherins are power-hungry megalomaniacs, then it would be easy to imagine they all hate each other for being the same way. But I find, actually, that while they may not be best mates, they all usually scratch each other's backs, if you get my meaning. Quite an old boys' club, the Slytherin house. One of the most extensive professional networking societies there is."

Teddy's brow furrowed as he tried to understand what his friends were trying to explain to him. He didn't really know what they meant about Slytherins, and had no idea what the word networking meant, but wasn't feeling in the mood to ask at the moment.

Two more students, girls this time, invited themselves into the compartment. Teddy found himself frozen into muteness, intimidated by the fifteen-year-old girls who casually sat next to him as he scooted over toward the outside window.

"Did you hear there's to be a new Muggle Studies professor this term?" one of the girls asked.

Art and Fred looked at each other, shrugged, then shook their heads, looking back at the girls.

"My Dad told me.... He's on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, you know," the other girl added.

Art and Fred rolled their eyes, as if that particular tidbit of information had been mentioned rather frequently before, then nodded wearily.

"Get on with it, Lydia," urged the first girl, pursing her lips in impatience.

"Right, well... apparently, some half-blood witch named Nimue Prewitt got herself hired for the job...."

Art and Fred both looked at Lydia with narrowed eyes.

"Some half-blood, you say?" Fred asked quietly.

"Why would anyone's bloodline matter?" Art growled, glaring at the girl.

"Oh, it doesn't! Of course not! I mean...."

"Merlin's eyebrows, Lydia! How stupid can you be?" the second girl chastised her gossipy companion.

Lydia was flustered. "I didn't mean anything by it! I swear!"

Art continued to glare at Lydia, but Fred decided to assume it was an innocent slip of the tongue, and let the matter go. "Prewitt, huh? Our Granny's maiden name was Prewitt..." he mused.

"Oh, maybe you're related?" Lydia asked in a desperately casual tone of voice, hoping the conversation could be salvaged.

"Probably," he said. "I mean, our family's so big, we're related to most people by now, I expect," he said with a smile.

"This a relative?" the second girl asked, nodding toward the boy cowering next to her.

"Nah, this is our mate, Ted Lupin. Ted, this is Lydia Windsor and Elise Clevenger, fifth year Hufflepuffs."

"Hi," the girls said in unison, looking at him.

Teddy swallowed and choked out a somewhat garbled greeting, making them smile.

"Lupin.... Where have I heard that name before?" Lydia asked.

Teddy shrugged. His face was beginning to shine with nervous perspiration, and his irises were fluctuating randomly through a rainbow of hues.

Elise leaned over and whispered something into Lydia's ear. The boys watched as Lydia's expression changed from haughty curiosity to sincere sympathy.

"Oh," she said with a sad note in her voice. "You poor thing," she said softly as she patted Teddy's knee.

Art suspected Elise just reminded Lydia of the fact that Teddy's parents names were to be found inscribed on the memorial monument on school grounds. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin had fought and died at the Battle of Hogwarts, along with Art's Uncle Fred. He looked at his friend quizzically. Teddy was frozen stiff, staring at the girl's hand on his knee as if it were a venomous snake about to strike.

"Well, we better get back to the Prefect's car," said Elise.

"Yeah.... Hope you guys get Sorted into Hufflepuff!" said Lydia by way of goodbye.

After the door closed behind them, Fred spoke up. "Ted, dude.... You've really got to loosen up around girls, mate!" he joked.

"They're everywhere, man," Art teased. "Nearly fifty percent of the population, people reckon...."

Teddy smirked. "Very funny. You guys are hilarious."

"Seriously, Ted. You don't get all freaked out with our girls at home," Fred continued, referring to the raft of his female siblings and cousins they all grew up with together at the school.

"That's different," Teddy argued.

"How d'you mean?" asked Art.

"I dunno. It just is!" he replied, testily. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Like what?"

"Flobberworms, for all I care," he barked.

"Maybe it's for the best you clam up around girls, if all you can think of to talk about is flobberworms," teased Fred.

"Not really your best foot forward, is it?" added Art, wrinkling his nose.

Teddy launched himself at his friends, wrestling with them until he had Fred in a headlock.

"A little help here!" Fred called out to his twin, chuckling but unable to escape.

Art was laughing so hard he was not capable of answering, much less coming to the aid of his brother. He fell off the seat instead, landing on the floor of the car with a loud thud.

"Say it!" commanded Teddy with a smile, forcing Fred to bend nearly in half.

"I give!" Fred gasped.

Teddy released him, then shoved him forcefully into the seat cushions once more. Just then, a little old dear toddled by pushing a cart loaded with treats. "The trolley!" all three of them cried at once and leaped out of the compartment.

Art and his brother bought a sampling of nearly everything, including some sweets from their dad's shop. Art bought one of his favorites: Weasley's Real Bubble Gum. The car filled up with iridescent, everlasting orbs as all three boys blew bubbles while they chewed.

As the afternoon wore on, the twins dug out their books and began to study. Teddy was left with nothing to do but absentmindedly skewer a few of the remaining bubbles with his wand when they floated within reach, so he stared out the window and watched the scenery flash by.

When the sun had finally set, the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station. Like all the rest of the students from third years on up, twins knew the town quite well. Their father had been taking them back and forth, to and from school for years. Every morning, they'd arrived via the Floo Network to the shop on High Street, then walked up the road together. Dad would wave goodbye to them at the gate in the mornings, watching to make sure they actually got to school. Then, when lessons were over for the day, they'd dash back down the lane and into the shop, where Dad had set aside a table in the back room for them to do their homework. As they got a bit older, they would often spend more time in the school library or studying with friends, but would always report back to the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Hogsmeade branch in time to head home with Dad for supper.

But tonight, like all the other first years, they'd be crossing the lake by boat. As Fred and Art exited the train and milled around in the confusion of the station, lots of older students greeted them on their way to board the carriages.

"Firs' years this way!" a deep voice boomed out from nearby, startling a few of the new students, including Teddy.

"Hagrid!" the twins cried together. Art threw an arm around Teddy's shoulder and pulled him along as they ran up to greet their old friend.

"Hello, Art! Hello, Fred! Who've yeh brought wi' yeh this year?" he asked cheerily as all the other first years turned and look, wondering who these three boys were and why they rated personal attention from the towering Hogwarts professor and groundskeeper.

"This is our mate, Ted Lupin, Hagrid," Art explained. He reckoned that Hagrid would likely know Teddy's parents, just like he knew nearly every one of the magical families of Hogwarts' students. He further hoped that a little of the extra attention paid to them could be shared with Teddy, and might cheer him a little. Art sensed his friend was beginning to chafe from it, a bit.

"Lupin, eh? It's very nice to meet you, young Ted. I knew your mum and dad, I did. Excellent wizards, your parents," Hagrid said kindly.

Teddy's eyes were large as saucers, but he smiled at the gigantic man addressing him. "M-my dad used to be a professor here, a long time ago," he stuttered.

"Aye, he was. Jus' about the best Defense Against the Dark Arts perfessor we ever had here at Hogwarts, and we've certainly had a lot of 'em over the years," agreed Hagrid with a smile. Then he turned away from the boys and directed all the first year students to begin boarding the boats that would carry them across the lake and into the castle.

Art gripped the edge of the boat tightly as he watched the glittering castle looming closer before them. He had dreamt of this moment for more than five years, ever since Aunt Hermione had given him the Hogwarts: a History book. His heart was nearly in his throat with excitement. He looked over to his twin brother, and saw an expression of enrapt excitement on his face as well. Fred smiled back at him.

Once inside, they were met by Professor Sinistra, who explained the Sorting process for the muggle-borns amongst them - everyone else already knew and were impatient to get going already. Then she led them into the Great Hall. Once she began reading their names, Art quickly realized he and Fred would likely be the very last to be Sorted due to their surname. His mind began to wander once more, looking around him.

He'd been here before, for lunch of course, and study sessions with classmates, but never at night. It was beautiful: candles floating above them, tables decorated with fancy table service, the enchanted starry sky above. He was reminded for a moment about the one his father had made for their room at home.

"Theodore Lupin," called the teacher, snatching Art's attention back to the stage.

Art and Fred watched as the witch placed the tatty-looking, yet ancient and wise Sorting Hat onto Teddy's head. Art could see his friend's eyes flashing nervously through an inhuman palette of colors. It almost looked like they were swirling, the colors were changing so fast now.

"Gryffindor!" shouted the hat. The Gryffindor table applauded politely. Teddy looked pleased as he hopped off the stool and joined his new housemates.

Art noted that as the crowd of first years began to thin around them, most of the eyes in the room were directed at him and his twin. Students at every table were looking at him, whispering amongst each other, nodding their heads toward him. A few that met his eye would smile encouragingly, wave, or mouth, "Good Luck!" One bloke close by even gave him a thumbs-up sign and said, "Think Hufflepuff!"

If Art had been either a paranoid or shy person, he would have been in perfect hell. As it was, the pressure was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He knew it was a time-honored tradition for Sorting to happen this way, but he couldn't help wishing it could be done in a slightly less public manner. A broom closet would be preferable at the moment.

"Weasley, Arthur."

Finally. It would be over in a moment, he thought, as he walked confidently up to the stool. Professor Sinistra sat the Sorting Hat gently on his head.

"Hmm," sighed a quiet voice from inside the dark brim. Art knew he was the only one who could hear the hat at the moment, and listened with fascinated interest as it began to do its work.

It dismissed Hufflepuff right away. "You have the ability to work hard," the hat assured him, "but are seldom put to the test. Your presence would serve to discourage your housemates rather than inspire them...."

Slytherin was eliminated next. "Ah, yes.... You have ambition, but not for power.... No point corrupting your purer instincts," it explained. "Save your questing nature for the pursuit of knowledge, rather than influence...."

"An incredible mind... a noble heart.... Gryffindor or Ravenclaw? Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?" it kept repeating, puzzling over the issue. "Which is dearest... heart or mind?"

Art's brain answered for him, without a second's thought: mind.

"Very well then..." the hat chuckled into his ear. "Ravenclaw!" the hat bellowed to the crowd.

Thunderous cheers erupted then from the Ravenclaw table as Art's new housemates stood to welcome him. He received a few hesitant smiles but otherwise sportsmanlike applause and claps on the back from disappointed Hufflepuffs as he made his way to the table.

"There's still one more of 'em," he heard a Slytherin girl mutter loudly to her neighbor as he sat down.

Art looked over at the Gryffindor table to find Teddy, who had a crestfallen look on his face, apparently disappointed they would not be rooming together after all. He offered his friend a sympathetic smile. Next, he glanced back up to the front of the room, beyond the stool at the staff table behind it. Professor Flitwick looked ecstatic. Professor Longbottom looked shocked but was smiling all the same. Headmistress McGonagall was smiling ruefully and clapping with the rest of the room.

Art winked encouragement to Fred, the very last kid to be Sorted, as he strode up to the stage. It was a similarly lengthy examination, as the room held its breath, with Art becoming more panicked with each silent, passing moment. He had never thought about the possibility they might not be rooming together until that very moment.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat cried out once more, then fell silent for another year.

Groans of dashed hopes came from the other three tables, but they were barely audible over the screams of exultation from Ravenclaw. Both twins were hugged and patted and hands shaken by all their new housemates until they were nearly dizzy. Art even felt his cheek kissed by some unidentified girl. It was hard not to feel elated from so much adulation.

The feeling dissipated only slightly throughout the enormous feast that suddenly appeared before them. Art and Fred spent the meal getting to know the other first-year Ravenclaws, committing their names to memory by making a point of introducing them to all the older students who came by to congratulate the twins.

On the way out of the Great Hall, Art glanced over to the Gryffindor table once more, waving goodbye to Teddy. He noticed with relief that Teddy seemed a bit happier now; perhaps he had made a few new friends over dinner.

"See you tomorrow," called Art to his best mate.

"At breakfast," added Fred, smiling as well.

"Sure. See you tomorrow," replied Teddy, with a half-smile as they followed their respective Prefects out the door.

*

"Oh, Merrie... look what came for you today," sang Annie, watching her daughter's eyes light up in delight as she waved the morning's owl post in front of her.

"My letter!" she squealed, dashing up to her and snatching it from Annie's hands.

"Why don't you read it to us?" asked George, happy for his little girl and relieved her big brothers came through on their promise. He heaped a pile of diced fruit onto his plate as she tore open the envelope.

"Okay, Daddy," she said, and began to read aloud.

September 2, 2009

Dear Mum & Dad & Merrie & Janie & Joey,

The train trip was brilliant! Merrie, you will love it - lots of pretty farms with loads of cows and sheep to see. Take the east side - I only saw one cemetery.

And the boat ride across the lake was excellent as well. Fred reckons he saw the squid, but I think he imagined it.

Hogwarts Castle sure looks amazing at night, all lit up from inside.

Teddy Sorted into Gryffindor. He seems pretty happy about it.

And now for the news you've been waiting for. Tell Granny to get out her blue merino yarn for our jumpers this year: both of us are Ravenclaws now.

Write back soon Merrie and tell us all the news from home. See you at Christmas!

Love,

Art & Fred

"Wow," sighed Merrie with a dreamy smile on her face.

"Where's Art and Fred?" asked Joey for the hundredth time.

"At Hogwarts," answered Merrie and Annie in unison.

Annie walked over to stand below the girls' bedroom. "Janie! You should be dressed and down here by now!" she called up, then turned back to the breakfast table.

"George?" she asked, alarmed by the fact that he sat frozen in his seat, a strawberry speared on his fork held motionless in midair.

"Not in Gryffindor?" he mumbled quietly; a stunned, puzzled look on his face.

"No, that was Teddy who Sorted into Gryffindor. The boys are in Ravenclaw," she said, repeating the information contained in the letter. She had been educated ad nauseam about the four Hogwarts houses over the past summer by the twins. "What's wrong?"

"Not in Gryffindor..." he repeated, as if the information was just beginning to sink in. "I'll be damned.... Not in Gryffindor?!"

"Do you have a reset button somewhere?" Annie teased, gently guiding his fork-wielding hand to put the strawberry in his mouth. "I thought you said it didn't matter?"

George chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "You're right. It doesn't really. It's just that... well, I guess I just assumed... since all the rest of us, for ages now.... Ravenclaw? Really?"

"That's what they said," Annie replied, beginning to giggle.

"You think this is funny?" he said, smiling.

"Isn't it?" she asked.

"Being Sorted into a house isn't a joking matter," he scolded her.

"But your reaction is," she scolded back. "Aren't the Ravenclaws supposed to be the clever ones?"

"Brains aren't everything," he retorted.

"That doesn't carry much weight, coming as it does from someone with absolutely none," she teased back.

"Like you would know brains if they bit you on the..."

"Oops. Sorry, Mummy," cried Joey as the sound of cereal and milk splattering on the floor interrupted the adults.

"That's all right, Joey," laughed Annie as she dashed for a dish towel to clear up the mess. "You just saved Daddy from letting his mouth get him into trouble again!"