Sorting Selection

The teenager stops before boarding the wagon; her Muggle clothes are perfectly chosen, her dark hair delicately descends on her shoulders, a black leather outfit consisting of a black jacket with a horizontal cut and pants that fit the curves of her legs enhancing that impressive figure. In both ears rest some fine pieces of jewelry, precious gold rectangles that tinkle in the dim light of that platform.

Her eyes, containing the sparkle of an entire sea, her eyebrows? Impeccable, her lips? Tinted with a peachy pink and for this occasion a soft mist of sweet and fresh fragrance decorates her bare neck. Before climbing that step, Elania looks to his right, dozens of families are saying goodbye to their children before they board the Hogwarts express, but it is among those groups of strangers where she sees her.

She smiles, her blue orbs clashing with emeralds like the green grass fields of the Scottish lands that rise on the cliffs against the rough sea lapping over the rocks. A soft bow, as elegant as it is precise, of the kind that is only taught at the Palace and which she has cultivated with surprising naturalness since she was too young.

She then unhurriedly enters the train. Her trunk floats gently over the floor and accompanies each step she takes in those elevated shoes that make her almost five feet tall. She walks on, quickly discarding the first carriages, "too full", so she advances towards the locomotive head, where she finds one of the four compartments completely empty.

There she settles in, leaving his beige leather trunk under the seats. The interior of each compartment has two seats that fit two people on each side, four in total. There is a large glass window that bathes the interior in light "or would if it wasn't still in the station", above it is another smaller, rectangular one that can be opened to let air in and at the moment it is open. Slowly Elania slides the door open before sitting down and not long after the bustle inside the vehicle becomes more noticeable until the unmistakable sound of pressurised steam escaping from the engine starts the journey.

Soon her peace is disturbed by a kind old lady, wearing a uniform of a grey colour, but bright and neat, dragging a cart that looks almost too heavy, some would say that perhaps it was a monster left there so that no student would leave the express halfway, but to her it just looked like a sweet old lady. Slowly she kocks with her knuckles and slides the door to open it gently.

-Excuse me, young lady.

-Don't worry, it's all right. -She replies with that well-measured smile of hers.

-Would you like any sweets? I have pumpkin pies, beans of all flavours, and even chocolate frogs.

-No, thank you. -The old lady smiles and turns to the opposite side to call the other compartment. -Wait.

-Yes? Do you want anything, dear?

-Do you have any of today's newspapers? I'll take any, as long as it's current affairs. -asks the French woman.

-A newspaper? Yes, of course, they hardly ever ask for them. The Daily Prophet? -she asks, looking at her sideways as she rummages through the compartments. -Where did I put it? -she says before laughing softly. -Here you go.

-How much is it?

-Five knuts. -At which the brunette takes out a silver coin and holds it out to him.

-Keep the change.

The sweet old woman smiles and nods before, gently, closing the door before rapping her knuckles on the next compartment. Elania first decides to pull down that curtain over the sliding door that allows her to see inside the compartment, though not entirely. Then she leans back against the window and the light coming through it, crosses her legs and turns that newspaper to look at the front page and begins to read, going over that front page and that front page image of the crime scene that the article narrates.

"A NEW VICTIM OF MUGGLE HATRED

At about two o'clock yesterday morning, August 31st, a terrible cold-blooded murder took place, resulting in the death of James Paton, a forty-two year old wizard. Describes as a Londoner without a cause and famously known for being a reputed historian of magic. The killer, Anthon Turner, was an unrelated Muggle who frequented the same bar as James that night.

Although the Ministry has been reluctant to share information or offer any statement of fact, I have been able to speak to the owner of the venue where the two were last seen.

'Anthon was a regular, he drank a lot but never chatted to anyone, his daughter is a witch, sometimes he mentioned her between drinks. That night a woman came up to him, I thought it might be her; she looked like his daughter, I don't know, but they didn't stay long' says the barman 'as soon as they arrived, poor Jame took off and they went after him. If only I had known what was going to happen I would have stopped him'.

Although the Ministry of Magic claims that the situation is under control, don't be fooled by Granger's words; things are not under control. A macabre graffiti 'Death to all wizards' was found at the scene of the crime sritting in the victim's blood and the subject is currently being held at the British police station.

This is a matter for the magical world, and while the magical secrecy statute seems to remain intact for the time being, this is yet another sign that the minister is either incompetent with her people or too naive to deal with Muggles. This brings to thirty-six the number of tragedies that wizards have had to suffer at the hands of Muggles in the last year, and while we at the Prophet will not be the ones to stir up tensions, there are already rumours that something needs to be done where others are unwilling or unable to do so.

We want not only to make public our disagreement with these measures but to remember those who have left us because of the irresponsibility of a minister who advocates cordiality and reason when we; our families, our loved ones, are increasingly at risk.

How much longer will we have to look the other way? How many more deaths will be brought about by the empty words of a minister whose time has, perhaps, run out?

[For more information, see pages 18-23 inside the volume.]

-Elailah Scott. "

The journey proceeds as normally as expected; the more time passes, the calmer the carriages become. The London skyline soon left behind and replaced by the coarse, green scenery free of almost all contact with humanity. Although the reading is interesting, and Elania has made a mental note of the name of the journalist on the front page, she's much more interested in the breakdown inside.

A few more names are mentioned there and anyone with a modicum of reading comprehension would be able to see a problem that almost seems more imminent with each passing day; thirty-six murders, accidental some, perhaps, and others far more malicious that were stretching the patience of the magical people.

The journey to Hogwarts is not exactly a short one; a nearly nine hour drive in which the landscape slowly changes until the mountains that cover and envelop much of the Highland valley come into view, but the journey is not particularly uncomfortable. The carriage compartments are full, her neighbours are noisy enough, but she knows from the sound of their voices that they are kids and she can't really be bothered with them.

To make her company more pleasant Elania brought out that precious pet recently acquired in Diagon Alley. She slides his trunk open, being enchanted it is actually bottomless and works like the magic coin purse: you ask for something and it gets spits it out, quite useful considering it cost five galleons which is a fortune, but in the last year it hasn't given him a single problem.

-Viens voir maman - "come to mommy".

From the inside, a cage large enough to hold a large owl with a European doe in it appears, her fur is snow white and her eyes are as blue as her owner's. She is barely a palm and a quarter tall, so she must be relatively young. She is barely a palm and a quarter tall, so she must be relatively young. -Sortons d'ici, d'accord? D'accord. - "Let's get you out of here, alright? Alright".

Elania opens that little door and lets the rabbit explore calmly inside, since she bought her she has kept her loose all day and only kept her there because she couldn't prepare a place for her to be inside that enchanted boot, so the cage of an owl would suffice for now. -Vous êtes trop belle pour être enfermée dans cette cage, je le sais... - "You are too beautiful to be locked up in this cage, I know."

Ever since she bought her, for an exorbitant price one would say, Elania knew something unusual was going on with Bungee, first she was extraordinarily well behaved for a mere rabbit bred on a rural farm outside London and, curiously enough, the rabbit had been named herself. Not knowing what to call her, she left a book open and pointed with her paw to one of the words she perhaps liked best as she skim-read them, Elania expected one of them to click in her mind, but it did so first in her pet's.

-You're a very clever bunny, Bungee. -She says with a smile before taking a bag of small carrots out of the trunk and holding them out to the animal, who welcomes them. -And I know you know what I mean, but aren't you some kind of magic rabbit?

Did they even exist? What was clear was that the animal knew more than it seemed and, sitting on his lap, she slowly and almost patiently eats the carrots. So, with the rest of the newspaper, the sights that follow one after the other and the chat with her pet, the time passes quickly. Except for a few brief interruptions from the children in the compartment opposite, but she has not been able to help them as it is her first year and she doesn't know exactly how long that train will take.

"I should have apparate right at the station straight away", at least she can spend her free time reading 'Advanced Incantations and Conjurations, Volume II' a reading which, as mind-numbing as it may seem to many of her fellows, she welcomes until the light begins to grow dimmer and the lights inside the carriage are switched on. Soon the terrain changes and the mountains of the valley come into view and she begins to take it all in.

-Will you stay with me? -he asks the doe, who nods in agreement. "You are definitely special, Bungee, that's why you were meant to be with me."

Suddenly her door opens and she catches a glimpse of a beautiful young woman with hair as red as fire, there is a brief exchange of glances that only lasts a moment.

-Sorry for the suddenness! -The truth was that the door burst open with what she imagined to be an accident. A sheepish smile spreads across her face, but Elania can't look away until she shakes her head.

-Don't worry.

-I was just coming to warn you that we'll be arriving at Hogsmade station in five minutes. He points to a shiny gold P badge that stands out against that snow-white shirt. -Is that a rabbit? -He asks after noticing the animal that has found a comfortable niche between her shoulder and neck.

-A female rabbit, -she corrects her. -This one here is Bungee. -Elania introduces her. -And I'm Elania, first year here.

-Of course, that's why you don't look familiar, and I'm really good at faces! -The girl takes a step inside and looks at the French girl before looking at the little girl on her shoulder. -May I?

-If she lets you, she's all yours. Bungee? -she asks, looking sideways at the.

-My mother named me Cassiopeia, but please call me Cass. -She introduces herself before almost shuddering as the bunny sniffs at her hands and finally agrees to walk towards them. -But what a cute little thing, I'm dying of cuteness! -Elania leans her back against the backrest and keeps a close eye on her opponent before she hears her speak. -I though I've seen all new faces but, girl, I'd remember someone like you, you look like someone out of a fashion magazine. What surprises me is that you're alone and not surrounded by all the single boys of the castle. -the redhead confesses sincerely.

-Guilty. -Elania replies with a smile, proud of those flattering words. -I thought I'd have a bit of peace and quiet here, -she confesses, really wanting to be about his business and knowing that rarely does anyone want to be in the carriage where the younger kids are.

-My brother is the one who should have come to these cars, but Jerry is incapable of being separated from his new girlfriend, or whatever she is, so here I am, doing my job and his. -She invites herself to sit next to her, which doesn't bother her in the least.

-It's not the first time I've heard something like that, really. You know how they are: everyone thinks with their head and it's never the right one. -She sits as judge, jury and executioner.

Cass strokes the sweet little doe's head before she sits on his lap. -And what school do you come from? -she asks curiously.

-I studied at Beauxbatons. -she replies. -So I guess I'm used to castles and palaces. -She jokes with a soft smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. -I have seen the castle before, although it was a very brief visit, I was accompanied by the new Charms teacher.

Her eyes widen even more and she nods in surprise. -Oh, well, I think you'll be the only one coming from another school this year, or at least I haven't seen anyone new who isn't a first year on these wagons. What year will you be in?

-Sixth, although I think I'll be the eldest, I had an eventful last year but nothing to worry about, that's why the Ministry assigned me to the new teacher, apparently he worked there and decided to move on here this year- she answers a little in passing, without going into too much detail.

-And I thought I'd have to catch you up, Elania, but seems that we'll be in the same year.

-Don't rule it out yet, I'll need your help to find out who the decent people are and, more importantly, the vipers who hide behind false appearances. -Although Elania had an exquisite sense of smell, the experience of six years in that castle was priceless when she was the one who was about to set foot in it... officially, at least.

-Oh, I could make a very long list of that. -she assures him with a sweet chuckle. "Oh, Morgana, how can something so simple sound so sweet to my ears?" -There are already more in Slytherin alone than I can count on my hands but nothing exclusive to them.

The conversation continues briefly. Shortly afterwards, Bungee leaps towards Elania as the deep, piercing sound of the train's horn announces the final stop of the journey. The outside is now tinged with a beautiful orange, and the street lamps outside the station are brightly lit.

-We've arrived,- Cass announces, -I have to go back for my friends, but I'll see you at the Sorting, I'd love to go with you on the way to the castle, but I've already told my friends I'm going with them. -She apologises.

-Don't worry, it was nice to meet you. -More than you can imagine.

-Good luck in the selection! -and she disappears into the crowd, though his flame red hair is hard to miss even in the crowd.

-Come on, it's our turn to pack up.

With a wave of his wand, the trunk swallows up all the belongings that were taken out: the cage Bungee was in, the newspaper and a couple of snacks she's had on that long journey, and Elania hadn't forgotten the book that almost already read three-quarters of. The boot closes with the sound of the latches snapping and he lifts himself off the ground. Slowlyshe opens her jacket and looks over the shoulder at the little bunny. -Get in here, you'll be better off than in the cage.

Bungee soon descends with surprising skill and finds shelter in the double bottom of that jacket. Elania waits for the children to get out of their carriage and then she descends. The small station is soon overflowing with a large number of pupils, the adults who were in the last carriage are the easiest to get out and although some take the opportunity for a last farewell, in the end all the students head off to the right, in the same direction as the locomotive.

-First year students! -calls a sweet voice with a strong accent on the Rs. -Please come with me on this road! -In the background she distinguishes that figure, a bright lantern hovering around her, and the little ones follow that path. -The rest of you,-she continues in a high yet calm tone of voice, -second through fourth will follow the shortest path, right where I am, and sixth and seventh will take the carriages stationed behind the station! Your bags will be fine on the express, they'll be at Hogwarts before you.

"To the carriages then."

On the other side of the station, beyond the stone wall, there is a neat forecourt where a large number of carriages wait, arranged in two neat rows. Most of the students seem to be in a hurry to get their hand-bags into the back of the carriage, apparently empty. There is not even a driver to direct them and yet the moment the seats are occupied, without any order, the wheels begin to turn slowly as they are steered invisibly towards their destination.

But she sees them.

Elania gently stops next to one of the black carriages and walks slowly by the carriage straps that are almost invisible if you don't know they are there.

With utmost delicacy she takes her place on that first bench, the seats are fully open so that the heads and figures of the students stand out in each carriage. Once seated, the brunette slides her right hand through that invisible figure, his black fur deeper than the night itself, her fingers run through that hair, so soft and silky that it almost inspires a smile on her beautiful face.

Elania leans a little closer, sliding her palm from the hindquarter to its back before the carriage shifts gently, swaying sideways before someone sits down beside her, abruptly.

The Frenchwoman doesn't need to look at her right hand to know who he is. His notorious scent of mint and traces of a deep warm aroma cling to her nostrils. A middle-aged man sits next to her, his hair is moderately long as it stops at his shoulders, his beard, growing unevenly across his face, though it is almost perfectly trimmed and joins the moustache that covers his upper lip and grows bigger at the sides of the jaws, his nose broad and straight. His tanned, rough hands close that black trench coat before he looks at two more students following him.

-Sorry boys, this carriage is taken. Go to the next one.

His deep, gravelly voice echoes in his ears, bringing a deep smile to his crimson lips.

-Mr. Blackworth, I was afraid I wouldn't see you again until the selection since I didn't see you at the station.

-Miss d'Orleans -he replies, stretching his dominant arm across the back of the seat. - family trips and school excursions are not my thing.

It suited him too well.

-I hope the transfer from the ministry to here hasn't caused you too many headaches.

-Not at all. -He replies before the invisible animals move off at a slow, calm trot towards the castle.

-Fantastic animals, don't you think? -He continues, addressing his future student in a familiar manner. -Perhaps you're the only student who can see them, although I'm not surprised either. -The bitter memory echoes in her mind, but Elania, far from being annoyed, sees the corners of her mouth lift.

-I would have seen them long before we met. -And then she falls silent for a few moments. -But they are fascinating creatures; in the sight of many but they only reveal their presence to a few.

-We have about fifteen minutes to the castle. -he informs- I take it everything went well, right?

-Better than fine, in fact. -she replies, slipping his hand under his shirt where he removes the metal chain from his neck and with it he pulls out the object of magical goldsmithery.

The man's eyes light up beyond the chandeliers hanging on either side of the carriage. -Magnificent. -He doesn't try to pick it up or touch it, but he does admire its beauty before the woman hides it again beneath her cleavage before raising her posture.

-You did your part, excellent, in fact. -And if anyone knows Elania, they know how valuable that word is.

-And the other one?

-I took care of him, handed it over to the shop owner. I suggested that he should get rid of it or he would probably alert the ministry what type of merchandise he had in stock. -A biting smile appears on the older man's ungainly face. -So I doubt he could describe your face, and I know you wouldn't tell him your name.

-I told you it would be a good plan.

-It wouldn't have worked if you hadn't had such a keen ear, it cost him to hand it over, but there's always a large enough amount of money to change people's minds, plus he felt indebted after getting it back.

-You hear a lot of things at the Ministry, but these kinds of items are very, very prosecuted, -he says, digging through his pockets until he pulls out a small plastic bag. The smell of pure tobacco invades the nostrils of the woman who, on another occasion, to another person, would have given a lethal look at that gesture, but to Daniel she cedes that privilege. -I only used the privileged information I got, is it my fault that they are obsessed with bureaucracy? All we had to do was find a buyer.

-How much did he pay you? Out of curiosity. -Elania asks.

-Not much, thirty sickles, when we met he said it was a family heirloom that our lovely clerk had stolen on the deathbed of a desperate widow, a good story, almost convincing -he snorts with a smile. -I invested it in this mackintosh,-he gently stretches the one he's wearing through one of his openings as he briefly licks the paper in which he rolls the tobacco. -I'll be grateful in winter, the cold here gets into your bones.

The carriage moves along the ground, the ground is imperfect and the rattling is almost constant, though hardly noticeable once you sit down. The castle begins to come into view beyond the tall trees that made the thick, leafy veil of those branches at ground level. In the dead of night the lights of the castle contrast with the first stars that begin to emerge from their slumber.

-Beautiful, isn't it?

-Much better than when we came for the O.W.Ls,- she says, remembering that grey day even though it was the middle of summer. -but it's a long way from the elegance of the Palace.

-Is it beautiful? I haven't had the pleasure of contemplating it myself.

-More than you can imagine, it sits in the Pyrenees so snow is quite normal there even before winter. A large part of the palace is suspended against one of the mountains and it's like a glass palace, walls gleaming and pristine. It is much less cold than it looks - probably because otherwise it would be impossible to teach - and well, although you have a lake here you'd love to see the Mediterranean Sea in all its splendour.

There was a hint of melancholy in her tone of voice, but it was quickly replaced when the other person spoke.

-Did you read the Prophet? -he asks before he sees her nod. -The ministry is about to get hold of Anthon, -he reports. -From what Johnson told me, the minister is pulling the final strings, he'll probably be subjected to a memory extraction.

-Something tragic, no doubt, -her tone of voice remains neutral. -The article was more detailed than I imagined, they should award the writer, Elailah Scott. -She repeats her name, more to the other than to herself.

-I'll let her know. -he finally lights that cigarette with a zippo and sucks that harsh smoke into her lungs.

-Nervous about your first year as a teacher? -The man raises an eyebrow at her. -You usually smoke when you are, you know how perceptive I am.

-Like that time at the Leaky Cauldron? -he asks with a grin. -Well, yes, I am, a little. You know me; you know what my strengths are, teaching kids who are more concerned with what's on their legs and wasting their time on Quidditch and flirting? That's not on my CV.

-I hope you're not talking about me.

Daniel lets his breath out through his nose, holding back a laugh. -I don't think this school has ever seen anyone like you in its entire history, but I speak from experience; I was totally like that. -A more sincere smile appears on his face. "That's a surprise, Daniel," thinks the Frenchwoman.

-But you can't say I'm not good at incantations, can you?

-Not at all.

-What I did not expect, -adds the Englishman, -is to have such a skilful pupil.

The Frenchwoman slides her face into a soft curtsy, elegant and pure as the blood that courses through her veins, and then a smile appears on her crimson lips before her blue orbs collide with her companion's. -I've always been very industrious, -she says, -but I'm sure you'll make it through this school year, at least you'll have less paperwork.

-To which I would toast, if I had anything strong enough to drink.

In front of them, the outer walls of the castle stand with their torches illuminating the outer grounds. A large number of the carriages pushed by the Threstal are passing through the main archway, on the other side the large Quidditch stadium sends a shiver down the Frenchwoman's spine, behind them there are no more carriages and theirs takes a detour once they enter the main garden of the castle. The carriages stop just beyond the other side of the wall, their backs to the castle.

The students walk and march with fireflies flitting through the hedges naturally guiding them towards the entrance. The figure of the castle seems imposing even against the dark night and even if she tries to find something to dislike it is still impressive, however much she dislikes the unkempt style. The path of students is a little ahead of them, but it's not something that worries either the professor or the newly arrived student.

-On average, Hogwarts usually has ten foreign students arriving from another school. -Which was a relatively low number. -This year there are only four of you. As a sixth year, -he hops down from the wagon, -you'll go through the Sorting Hat last. -one last puff and that cigarette is extinguished under the sole of his shoe as he takes the next step with Elania on his side.

Elania steps down from the carriage and walks towards the entrance. -She probably wants to have a word with you, it may seem intimidating, -calmly both of them approache the thick door that remains wide open and through which the light of the castle almost floods out. -But I've always liked McGonagall, even though she's a stickler for rules and a woman with character.

-Interesting. -She doesn't sound intimidated, but rather, curious.

The castle inside is much more splendid than Elania remembers it, maybe it's just that the ward they were in, while she did the O.W.Ls, wasn't the most well-kept or that the renovations it was undergoing had ended successfully. The marble floors, the brightly coloured carpets and the high ceilings are almost awe-inspiring. She looks around, drawing a mental map in her head "Stairs, passageways, paintings..." everything around her is compressed and stored in a corner of her head before her guardian stops in front of the huge doors of the large dining room.

The bustle is audible beyond the closed door and rounds of applause precede one after another before silence and then another round of applauses.

-Now I'm curious,-says Blackworth, -what's the selection ceremony at Beauxbatons?

-It's different, -she says, crossing her arms under the bust. -There's an empty wooden frame; when you stand in front and put your hand on it, a mirror materialises and you have to make certain decisions. -The frown on her teacher's face makes her realise that this doesn't answer his questions very well. -It makes you choose between certain qualities, not that you can lie to him because it already knows the answers, depending on the colour, that's your house. Your beliefs, your fears, your opinion of yourself everything it's tested...every year you can do it again. Houses don't matter so much in Beauxbatons.

-That's very interesting. -he assures before the door in front of them opens softly.

-Mr. Blackworth, I was beginning to think we wouldn't be able to have your presence tonight. -her feminine voice accompanies an aged but rather well-preserved face, the clothes she wears reveal a very traditional sense of magical taste.

-I was just looking after the latest addition to the school, professor. -He smiles, a strange smile, but one that shows a strange complicity.

-It's been a long time since our last classes together, Daniel, but thank you for your concern. If you'd do me the favour of joining your fellow colleagues at the table I'll handle our latest student. -she asks politely before looking at the young Elania.

-Good evening, Headmistress McGonagall. Professor Blackworth has spoken very highly of you.

-He'd better, -she says sincerely -Daniel was anything but a punctual student, but he had talent, he just had to be put in his place. If you'd told me he'd end up working at the castle with me I'd have been taken for a fool. He does seem more changed than the last time I saw him.

The Frenchwoman smiles softly before the old witch moves to stand beside her and they both look across the long tables arranged in four rows. The students don't even pay attention to them, waiting impatiently while they stand there.

-I have already been made aware of their circumstances, and although it is not the norm, I am very happy to have such a dedicated student. We rarely do O.W.Ls this late, but the Ministry gave its approval and although I have not personally seen you file I know that you have impressed many of the teaching staff.

-I just did my best, I didn't want to waste the opportunity.

-A wise decision. In any case, -adds the Headmistress, -I'll assign a prefect from your house tomorrow morning, whichever house you end up in, to show you around the castle. Most of the students have had years to explore it, but not everyone does the O.W.Ls in a single day, so I think the castle can be done with alacrity.

-That would be a great help, thank you very much, Headmistress McGonagall. -A smile of complacency spreads across the headmistress's face, something that puffs up the Frenchwoman's chest with pride. "Manners make a woman, and manners open all doors".

It is then that the headmistress makes a gesture with her face and they both walk towards the interior of that large room. Immediately the candles floating above her head steal the Frenchwoman's breath, everyone turns almost in unison as the headmistress accompanies the last pupil yet to be selected. The stars shine like a thousand spotlights and the Frenchwoman, who is making an effort to remain superior to these things, ends up losing herself in the grandeur of the room.

She walks to stand in front of the two steps in front of the small stool on which a worn leather hat remains unperturbed and inert. At the far table the members of the Hogwarts school team remain at their seats, joined, finally and again, by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. On the far right is Daniel who gives her a soft smile before gently raising his glass in an almost intimate gesture.

-And this one?

-Who is it?

Several voices echo across the tables, Elania does not turn to look at them, for in her eyes none are worthy of her attention; she remains with her hands clasped behind her back in a confident, calm pose.

-Finally,-McGonagall clears her throat, her voice echoing through the lively room as her wand remains at her own neck, and once the noise of the students has died down she withdraws it and tucks it under her robes. -Elania d'Orléans, 17 years and 6th year, from Beauxbatons. Please take a seat. -Her hand, outstretched forward, points to the hat that rises from the stool.

The brunette sits down and crosses her legs. Her chest swells with the warm air of anticipation and it is then that the hat is pulled down over her head and everything goes dark.

An explosion of thoughts and memories bursts into his head. The deepest darkness is replaced by hundreds of memories that seem to coexist simultaneously.

-Hmmm... -A deep, deep voice echoes inside his skull, a deep, deep voice that almost seems to penetrate all the barriers he has imposed all his life. -I see in you many things, many, yes.

-Who...?

-The hat, who else? -he replies bitingly. -But this is about you Elania, I see what you are. I see who you really are.

That's the first time she feels the panic, but before it can settle in her head a flash of lightning breaks the terror before she, visualising herself in the middle of nowhere, stands up and faces the talking accessory.

-Oh yes, I see your strength, your passion, and your dedication. And I see your fears, your deepest terrors, -it is then that the darkness is replaced by the scenes she has pushed out of her mind. The blood that runs through her thighs, that has stained her hands, that has escaped from his heart. She sees him after so long, but far from grieving, she stands firm. -Bravery? Perhaps, yes, some would consider it so. And courage? Plenty.

That talk continues, Elania loathes the past, and what she sees in those memories, projected onto her own psyche like images on the walls of the deepest recesses of her skull. -In you I discern Ravenclaw intelligence; a sharp, alert mind, excellent attention. -Reluctantly the hat adds. -But can that compare to the ambition these dreams of yours provoke? I know what you're after, Elania.

-Do you?

-I could recite to you the names of all those wizards who sought what you seek and all of them failed.

-I won't do it.

-Why not? -questions the hat. -An ambition like yours, as great as a hundred of these castles, cannot be sustained by cunning alone.

-For I am not like those men, I am much more.

-Two waters you move in, Elania d'Orléans, you could be the perfect Ravenclaw; the Slytherin who achieves everything you set your mind to...but what are you willing to sacrifice for this dream you pursue?

She answers, a single word that makes the folds of that big hat show a big smile.

-See you soon, Elania d'Orléans.

The darkness, those memories that are projected in her mind melt away. Her eyes open and all eyes stare expectantly at her. "It's only been a moment, hasn't it?" But the reality is that there, in the outside world, six long minutes had passed.

That conversation had only amounted to little monosyllables and single words on the Hat's part that did not at all determine the actual extent of the conversation that had taken place in his mind.

-I think I've got it. Oh yes. Of course. -The Hat adds before his 'eyes' open. -SLYTHERIN!