Chapter 4: Thought out loud!

Uh, sure! "Yeah..." I say, acting like it was some painful memory.

"So is your grandfather really a Grand Chancellor or whatever?" Ron asks, trying to break the awkward silence.

Hermione giggles, "No, Ron, that's from an American Muggle movie."

Ron looks confused. I get the sense he looks that way a lot. "What?"

"I was messing with him," I say with a smile. "I've dealt with bullies like him before, you just gotta keep them off balance, not let them get to you."

"Well it was bloody brilliant, I say," Harry interjects.

"Yeah, I doubt you'll end up in Slytherin, though it might be funny to know you're messing with him all the time," Ron says.

"Well you stood up to Malfoy, which means you'd likely fit in as a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff, but you also silently conjured that bubble gum, which by the way is probably NEWT-level spellwork, so you'd probably fit in as a Ravenclaw, too," Hermione says, thinking out loud.

"Well, what about what I want?"

"Well...you'll see soon enough," Hermione says, waving off the question. 

"I wonder if you'll ride the boats with the First Years or the carriages with the rest of us? Probably the boats, since they take those to let the rest of us get there first."

"Does she think out loud all the time?" I whisper to Harry.

"Best to let her finish when she does," he says with a smile. "She might get angry."

"Anyway, we should change. Here's a spare set of Neville's, he's another Gryffindor."

~~~~~~

Turns out I had to ride the boats in the pouring rain. So that was fun, though at least I got to meet Hagrid. I wondered how that was going to work out with the camera tricks and all, but turns out he really is an enormous Robbie Coltrane. I tell him I sat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione so he immediately takes a liking to me.

So here I stand amongst a throng of sopping wet, diminutive First Years.

"Are you...are you related to that guy?" one asks in a high-pitched squeak. 

"You're both huge!" I'm surprised to see that it's a boy. 

Or at least appears to be.

"No, I just ate a couple other First Years on the way here," I say in my deepest voice.

Several of them snicker, but more of them back away even further.

I sigh. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, I'm a Fourth Year transferring from the United States, and since I don't have a House, I'm gonna be Sorted with you." I look at the frightened boy who asked the question. 

"Which House do you think you'll be in?"

"G-Gryffindor I hope...my brother's there..."

Some kids laughed. "Did you forget you have to be brave for that?"

The boy's face turns beet red, so I feel I need to say something to make it up to him.

"Bravery doesn't mean fearlessness. And ganging up on somebody isn't brave either. In fact, being brave means being afraid to do something, but doing it anyway." 

Wow, I'm pretty terrible at talking to kids, that sounded pretty condescending. 

Even though the whispers don't stop, the little boy stands up straighter after that, which makes me feel better about scaring most of them.

"First years," a clear, Scottish-accented voice rings out, "you may come with me now to be Sorted." Her gaze snaps to me. 

"Mr. Lerner, as a transfer you will be Sorted last." She spins briskly around and enters the Great Hall.

As we enter I gawk just as much as the First Years at the floating candles, the stormy ceiling reflecting the weather outside, and just the general sensation of being in such a magical place. 

Maybe I'm just projecting, but it seems like I feel the magic thrumming all around me, and I can almost hear it underneath the din of hurried, post-vacation, catch-up conversations. 

Sure I'd seen this on a screen before, but it is pretty damn impressive in person.

Some movement in my peripheral vision draws my eyes to the table next to me, where Hermione waves at me with a brilliant smile. 

I can't help but return both gestures, with a nod toward Harry and Ron. 

A glance to the other side and I see Draco glaring at me, as if I was the one who put gum in his hair. I guess I did, but he shouldn't know that, and I didn't mean to do it. Oh well.

"Creevy, Dennis," Professor McGonagall announces, and the squeaky boy from earlier climbs the steps toward the Sorting Hat.

Ah, that makes sense now.

I don't recognize any of the other names, and before I know it, Professor McGonagall has stopped calling names, and I'm standing there alone with whispers starting to spring up around me. 

I look at her, but she is looking up at the head table. I follow her gaze to find Professor Dumbledore apparently studying me intently. 

Suddenly it hits me: I'm about to go under the Sorting Hat, who is going to be in my head. It's going to find out what I know! And Dumbledore's eyes are on mine, too. Legilimency! He wouldn't use it on me, would he? I look away, just in case, back to the Sorting Hat, and then back to McGonagall.

I avoid looking back at the headmaster, and I'm relieved when he continues the Sorting a moment later. With a scrape of his chair, the aged headmaster silences the Hall. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we welcome the first of several opportunities this coming year to comfort ourselves admirably in front of outsiders. Mr. Lerner here has transferred to Hogwarts, and shall be joining the Fourth Years upon his Sorting. Professor McGonagall, if you please."

"Lerner, Bud," she says, inviting me to the stool as she had all First Years.