June 19, 2003

If We Could Only See-- 16b

Title: If We Could Only See--Chapter 16b
Author: Rocky
Rating: PG

Summary: Sirius's concern for Ginny doesn't quite extend to his other charges, despite her reassurances. But he has more important things to worry about, like making contact with the spy and getting all the intelligence he requires for Dumbledore. When Draco insists on accompanying him, Ginny's ready to spit nails, and finds herself attempting to take matters of escape into her own hands.

Ginny blew on her hands as she watched Sirius scan the dark woods, searching for the source of a noise he'd heard. Morgan stood next to him, her stance alert and ears pointed forward.

She'd been arguing with Harry's godfather about Draco and her certainty that he was not withholding information or lying about what he knew, despite Sirius's obvious doubt, and the effort had both drained her and left her angry. The idea that this was some sort of elaborate trick was almost insulting, and Ginny was at a loss to explain how Sirius could think it was.

"Why would he lie about anything, especially now? There's nothing to be gained from secrecy at this point, it's more likely to get him killed!" She'd hissed.

"Who knows, but how in the world could he be chased around school, around Hogsmeade, around Britain itself, and not know a single reason for it?" Sirius argued, his shoulders setting stubbornly. "His father's a bloody Malfoy, and they're always involved in deep scams and plots. He could have the whole school convinced he's a victim when in reality he may be trying to lure Harry out of the school!"

Ginny had frowned, shocked at the very idea. What sane person would put themselves in so much danger just to get close to Harry?

"If that's all he wanted," Ginny had whispered more calmly, "all he'd have to do is challenge Harry to a personal Quidditch match or something. Harry's very good at sneaking out after hours, and that's partially thanks to you, Padfoot."

Sirius had scowled, running a hand through his untidy black locks. He never liked being reminded that the items he and his friends had been so proud to create were now being used to help Harry land himself in mortal danger.

"I'm well aware of that, thank you!" he'd huffed. "Look, all I'm saying is that we should examine the facts a bit more carefully. I don't trust him or his father."

So that's what this is about, Ginny had thought irritably.

"I don't think he's been exactly wild about you, either," she'd retorted, "and you seem to be forgetting that I've been here the whole time. I'm telling you, this is real! If you'd look into their eyes, you'd see it too."

Sirius had been about to reply, and rather sternly from the looks of him, when they'd heard a twig snap in the distance. Ginny had immediately gone still, her whole body tensing to run as Sirius whirled towards the noise, his face lifting slightly upwards. A quick glance over her shoulder showed the boys hugging the side of a large tree, their black robes blending with the shadows well enough to partially conceal them.

"Stay here," Sirius hissed at her. With Morgan at his heels he trotted into the shadows, leaving the students alone once again. Ginny heard a faint rustling behind her, and turned to see Draco walking quickly towards her, his eyes focused intently on the path Sirius had just taken.

"What is it?" he whispered, finally looking down at her.

"I'm not sure, but he's gone to look," she explained unnecessarily, staring determinedly ahead of her and trying to ignore the sudden pounding of her heart. She didn't see the slight frown that rippled across his face before he turned away.

"D'you think we should follow him?" Caleb asked, startling Ginny as he came up behind her.

"No, we should wait for him here," she replied once she'd caught her breath. "He won't be long."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, moving forward and straining his ears for the slightest sound.

"Well, let's give him a chance before we run away in panic," she said wryly, rolling her eyes. It was then that she noticed the sky was no longer inky black, but a deep blue, and the stars were twinkling less. Dawn was coming, and that meant the vampires would be returning soon. Ginny frowned as the minutes ticked away and Sirius didn't return. Could he be in danger? Had he been discovered?

"I don't like this," Caleb murmured, his blue eyes sweeping the shadows uneasily.

"I'm going to see what's happening," Ginny whispered after a moment. Draco whirled on her.

"Are you mad? Those things might have come back! We need to hide, at least until we know for sure."

"If they have come back, hiding won't do us any good," she argued, welcoming her anger since it enabled her to look at Draco without embarrassment. "They'll be able to sniff us out or something – and I'm not going to just leave him alone!"

With that she began walking resolutely in the direction that Sirius had taken.
"Bloody Gryffindor!" she heard Draco mutter. For some reason it made her smile. When she heard the rustle of movement behind her a moment later, her smile grew wider.

"If I let you do this alone you'll get yourself killed, or worse," he muttered, glancing irritably at her.

"Since when are Slytherins heroic?" Caleb asked, coming up behind them and looking rather put out.

"Well," Ginny smiled sweetly, "you could always guard the clearing for us. Let out a yell if the vampires return before we do."

With a cheery wave she was off again, Draco smirking slyly as he followed. Caleb gaped at Ginny's reminder of their kidnappers and, after half a second's considering, followed quickly.

They hadn't gone far, though, when they almost literally ran into Sirius. He was slightly out of breath and sweating, but otherwise appeared unharmed.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Just making sure you're all right," Ginny replied with a frown. Black swore as he grabbed hers and Draco's upper arms and propelled them back to the clearing. Draco protested angrily and shook him off, but Sirius wasn't willing to let Draco out of his sight and kept a hold of the back of his robes. Morgan was growling slightly, and Ginny felt the hair on the back of her neck and arms raise.

"They've come back, haven't they?" she asked urgently, her eyes darting around as they entered the clearing. There was no sign of anything living that she could see, but these weren't living creatures. Ginny's paranoia began to flare back up.

"Well, are they back, then?" Caleb repeated Ginny's question, feeling himself shiver.

"Not yet, but they'll be here any time now." Sirius replied, "I need to see what I can make of the situation, and meet with my contact one more time. You need to get undercover, and quick."

"I'd rather go with you and see what's happening," Draco replied forcefully, startling everyone. Sirius scowled.

"I don't need you tagging along right now, we don't have time!"

"I wouldn't just be your hanger-on, Black, and you don't tell me what to do!" Draco snapped back, his pale face flushing. "I've been pursued, attacked, kidnapped, everything except burned at the stake, and I'd like just a little more insight on why this is happening to me before I lose my bloody mind!"

Ginny stared at Draco, feeling slightly annoyed by his outburst. Yes, he had a right to know what was happening and why, but time was short, and the only thing she really wanted to do was jump on that damn flying carpet and go. Still, as horrible as this whole night had been for her, he'd been enduring these attacks for weeks now. She watched him quietly for a moment. His eyes were so intense they almost appeared glazed, and she could practically see the steam rising from his ears.

"I need to move quickly, Mr. Malfoy," Sirius growled. "If you get lost or left behind, on your own head be it."

Ginny snapped her head towards Black. Tell me he didn't just give him permission, she thought angrily.

But he had. "Ginny, you and Mr. Anderson get back to that barn and hide yourselves. Morgan will go with you. I'll retrieve you as soon as I have the information I need."

He turned and strode out of the clearing before Ginny could protest, Draco limping slightly after him.

***********

Draco walked carefully beside the unkempt looking Black, trying to absorb
everything that was happening. His leg was mended, thanks to Sirius, and
both Caleb and Ginny had their wands back. But what the hell was going on?
And what did Potter's godfather have to do with it?

"How does your leg feel, Mr. Malfoy?" Sirius asked quietly, making Draco
turn to him in surprise.

"All right, I suppose," he replied warily. Sirius nodded and began to walk faster, forcing Draco to quicken his own pace. His bones were still a bit sore and this wasn't helping, but he'd asked to come along. He needed answers, and that was worth a bit of discomfort.

"So who exactly are you going to make contact with? Is there someone conveniently sequestered out here in the middle of no where?" Draco asked, glancing curiously at Sirius.

"Not too bright, are you?" Sirius smirked, offending the young Slytherin.

"What do you mean?" he snapped.

"Never mind, I have to gather some information that's critical to the Ministry. Our last meeting was interrupted, and I only had time to grab the wands." Sirius explained, a frown creasing his weathered face.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, trying to still his whirling thoughts. The Celt, he thought dully, he's the one who had the wands. He'd suspected that the Celt was hiding something, but he hadn't guessed that this was it. A spy for Dumbledore the whole time! How had he not seen it?

Well, between the threats to my life, being messed about and the bone breaking, I guess it just slipped my notice, he thought sardonically.

"All right," Draco spoke after a momentary silence. "So once you and the Celt talk, we can hop on the carpet and get out of here, right?"

Sirius paused, staring at Draco, "I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that."

Draco frowned. "Complicated in what way?" he asked. Sirius glanced back at him a moment but kept walking, irritating the younger man when he didn't answer immediately.

"I asked you a question, Black," he snapped.

"And I heard you quite clearly the first time, Mr. Malfoy," Sirius replied, his own voice dropping a few degrees. Draco shot yet another glare at Potter's godfather and decided he hated him almost as much as he hated Potter. What was it about Dumbledore's favorites that made them think they could keep secrets and dole out information at their convenience?

Sirius stopped suddenly, his hand dropping onto Draco's shoulder to halt him as well. Draco immediately shook him off but tensed his body, ready to run at the first sign of trouble.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"This is the place," Sirius whispered back. "Any minute now, I hope."

Draco stared doubtfully at Black, trying to hold back the fear that was threatening to rise again. A swift intake of breath from Black made Draco's head snap towards him. Sirius was staring straight ahead, and when Draco followed his gaze he felt his blood run cold at the sight of red eyes glowing in the surrounding darkness.

The spy had come.

***************

Please Review Here.

Posted by rockygirl at 11:26 AM | Comments (2)

June 13, 2003

Voyages of the Thinking Cap by Andrea

Title: Voyages of the Thinking Cap
Author name: Andrea13
Author email: ra_1013@yahoo.com

Rating: G
Summary: This is the slightly more serious prequel to "The Thinking Cap", co-written with Persephone_Kore and Alan Sauer. The Founders in the Sorting Hat take it upon themselves to sort out the argument between Godric and Salazar that split the school.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

This is a slightly more serious (and much longer!) prequel to my "The Thinking Cap" and "The Thinking Cap Returns" that is mostly the brainchild of Persephone and Alan. I was involved in the writing of it, but they deserve most of the credit! ;) Feedback is always appreciated at ra_1013@yahoo.com , persephone_kore@yahoo.com , and rexlapinii@aol.com

Poster's Note: I didn't take the time to re-itallicize or re-do bold face type yet. I'll tend to that soon. I hope the story is still enjoyable to you regardless!

The Founders had all been delighted when the spell to create the Sorting Hat had succeeded, duplicating their minds and ensconcing one copy of each in Godric's hat for all time so that they could always choose their students. The four inside had known at once; those outside had each tried it on and exclaimed delightedly at the five voices -- their own, which only they four could hear, and the one wrought especially for the students that belonged to the Hat itself.

It had been a little disconcerting, of course, to rifle through the mind inside the head they were sitting on and realize that the other three were going to get a good look at one's own. Still, that did give some excellent material for conversation... and it soon became apparent to the Four within the Sorting Hat that conversation material was something to be prized, because while they certainly had no one to blame -- the decision had after all been theirs mutually, even if Godric had worked most of the spell itself -- they soon realized that they hadn't quite taken into account just how little else there was to DO as a disembodied mind and voice in a hat.

Still, it was done and they still agreed that it had been a good idea, so they settled in and found ways to pass the time -- ranging from philosophy to word games to thinking up improvements to the spells, which they suggested whenever one of their counterparts put on the Hat for consultation. This rather startled Godric the first time.

Particularly since they'd had quite a while to think about it and, inspired by the plan to sing to the students each year, presented the idea in four-part harmony to the tune of a favorite song. Well, they'd tried. Salazar had started laughing halfway through at the astonishment emanating from Godric's mind, and the whole thing had rather fallen apart, forcing them to start again with the fifth verse after a period of minor chaos.

The outside "set" had taken up providing updates and other potentially interesting items after that, in an attempt to alleviate the high potential for boredom. (In the process there were four separate conversations to the point of "Stop feeling guilty...but don't stop trying to make things interesting; we appreciate it.") Rowena was so far having the most success; along with the general news and so on, she tended to insert carefully enchanted scrolls for them to read and all the intellectual problems and puzzles she wished she had time to work out but knew she never would finish -- which made her counterpart in the Thinking Cap nearly ecstatic over the opportunity to act as the term would suggest.

Of course, some of the other physical items placed in the hat were a bit strange -- but those were a source of humor at the very least, and they all looked forward to settling onto a head, whether one of their own or that of a student so small they nearly fell all the way over the shoulders. (That one had actually become stuck; they spent the better part of the next week analyzing exactly how they'd managed to let her back out once she'd started into the space where everything else was stored.)

The anticipation as they landed on Godric's again was as cheerful as ever -- which only made it a greater shock when his thoughts announced icily and nearly shaking with anger, There is to be no Slytherin House from this time forward. You are not to place any students there at the next Sorting.

"Why not?" Salazar asked, reasonably enough. "They stop raising ambitious, cunning children out there?"

Anger flared up in a fierce spike at his voice, stabbing into the darkness of the hat. Rowena winced, but they all traced it easily enough, following it back to the source -- an argument that ended very, very badly.

"Now, I'm sure we can work this out," Helga said placatingly. "And you know there are some students that would be miserable in any House but Slytherin."

"Surely," Godric began. He was interrupted by the memory of his other-self -- who didn't seem to agree.

"They leave or I do." Salazar, on Muggle-born students.

Godric's voice alone was a measure of how far the quarrel had gone this time. Those who didn't know him or had just begun to, expected him to roar when angry. Those who knew him well knew that at his most dangerous he was nearly silent. "Well, then," he said softly and evenly. "How soon can you be packed?"

And I have no interest in arguing the matter with you further, Godric spat -- and then he tore the hat off his head and they landed softly back on a shelf with no mind to read bigger than a dust bunny's.

"Well," Salazar said, sounding shaken, "I think we can safely say that didn't go well. We aren't really going to stop Sorting to Slytherin, are we?"

"I think you -- your other self, that is -- has left already," Rowena told him. In the memory she and Helga had been standing...off to the side, somewhat, but clearly and implacably with Godric.

"I can't possibly have meant that literally!" he protested.

"You shouldn't have said it, then," Godric snapped. But he, too, sounded unsettled beneath the irritation.

"I didn't say it. You must have realized by now we've diverged a bit from our outside selves. Not that I don't agree about the Muggle-borns, but I can see your point of view as well. Having been inside each of your outside selves' heads. And you didn't answer my question."

"Who's going to look after them if we don't stop?" Helga asked. "He left."

"Which I still think is preposterous. He's having one of our temper tantrums. But even if he really did leave, there are plenty of eligible candidates for successors. It's not like the other three aren't going to have to name them eventually. This just happened . . . sooner."

"I'm fairly sure he actually left," Godric put in quietly. "And I don't think he's going to be back." A pause. "Whether he likes it or not."

"Not if your outside self is going to stay that angry, no."

"He's not going to give in even when he calms down. If he does."

"All right. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Well, obviously we can't throw you out," Rowena said dryly. "Nor can you go off to sulk -- well, I suppose you could stop speaking to us, or vice versa. Neither seems particularly desirable."

"I'm not spending the rest of eternity sitting idly by and watching you three have all the fun, that's for sure. I think we need to get the rest of the story. Godric wasn't exactly objective."

"We saw exactly what happened and we've had the same argument how many times?" Godric snorted. "Don't tell me you can't fill in the rest of your side...."

"Well, he probably could, but it couldn't hurt to try for another perspective," Helga suggested.

"Like theirs." Salazar managed to give the impression that, if he had hands, he'd be using them to indicate Rowena and Helga. "They didn't leave, and they looked like they were on Godric's side, but unless Salazar did something dreadful to them as well, they've got to be a little more neutral."

"Well, we do agree with him about the Muggle-born students," Rowena pointed out. "Helga's the one who's been suggesting adaptive measures since day one. Still, we've generally been a bit calmer about it -- most of the time."

"Calmer than white-hot rage and incoherent demands to eliminate one-quarter of the student population? I should hope so." Salazar's tone was dry enough to mop floods with.

"To be perfectly fair," Helga said gently, overriding what was very possibly Godric's attempt to start saying something similar with more heat, "calmer than ultimatums and demands to eliminate about a third of it, as well."

"Granted. If you'll grant that eliminating significant fractions of the student body is unsupportable for any reason."

"Granted," Godric said with rather unexpected firmness. After a pause, he added casually, "Of course, technically I'd imagine the idea is merely to re-Sort them elsewhere."

"You're not headhunting any more of my students, Godric. And certainly there aren't to be any re-Sortings. Can you imagine what that would do to them?"

"It certainly makes more sense than removing them from the school entirely!"

"But not as much sense as finding a successor to head Slytherin House."

"I hate to point this out, but we can't exactly do that, now can we?"

"I can think of half a dozen former students just off the top of my spiritual essence that would do an excellent job. All we need is to get some of the outside set on our side."

"Before asking how we're planning to do that," Helga suggested, "perhaps we should make sure that we are in fact on the same side?"

"As long as Salazar isn't demanding we get rid of the Muggle-born students, I don't see why not," Godric pointed out. "Granted with his refusing to claim them we're already practiced at Sorting students into our Houses when they're otherwise best suited to his, but getting rid of it altogether would be ridiculous -- and nobody actually wanted him to leave."

"I'm not about to apologize for my prejudices, which I earned fairly--but I'm not exactly situated to dictate school policy, am I? We can hash out the particulars of the argument some decade when we're bored. Right now, Godric-outside is on a crusade against my students."

"No, he is not. He has nothing against them," Godric said irritably. "But if you'll stop flinging absurd accusations, I'll admit that his current plans aren't best for them. And not best for the school, either. But how are we supposed to get in contact with anyone outside from here unless they do put on the hat? Wait for them to pass by and then leap on their heads?" He paused and the hat-brim twitched experimentally. "Actually, I suppose that might work...."

"It would be nice to get the other viewpoints on the argument, too," Helga added. "Even Salazar's, if that were possible."

"Maybe one of you ladies' alternates will consent to sneak us into his house. I can probably explain how to get through the wards."

"Would she be able to find it? I seem to recall you taking quite a bit of delight in hiding things."

"Yes, but unless he's moved I know where the house is. Or at least where the Apparition relay starts, since I'd rather not give full disclosure in case it gets back to Godric."

"Oh, honestly, Salazar! What do you think I'd do, hunt you down?" A pause. "Them, I mean."

"The sound of my voice was enough to get him angry enough that if I had a head I'd have a headache. You tell me."

There was another pause and then a sigh without breath. "If he'd been going to attack it would have been on the spot," Godric said finally. "I wouldn't wait and stalk an enemy, much less a friend, without far more reason than that."

"Unless you thought a former friend was plotting against the school, maybe."

"What reason would I have to think that?" There was an edge to Godric's voice.

"Who knows why you think anything?"

"As I'm fairly familiar with how I think, I'm more worried about the idea coming to your mind!"

"Enough, you two!" Helga barked. "I seriously doubt Salazar is plotting against the school, or that Godric actually suspects him of it."

"Well, I know I'm not," Salazar grumbled. "The only mad hairy thing I ever set on the students was Godric."

Godric snorted. "I didn't think you were, but as you pointed out, the other Salazar was in something of a temper himself, and if you thought of the possibility perhaps he would have thought of it more seriously. I'd think better of him, though, even if he is spiteful to some of the M--." Godric broke off and added more quietly, "Was, I suppose I should say. Blast."

"So," Rowena broke the silence after a moment, "should we wait for someone to come put us on, or go looking for them?"

"Go looking for them," Salazar answered firmly. "If Godric-outside thought to yell at us, he may already have announced it to the students. We need to squelch this idiotic notion of his right away."

Amidst some further bickering, they started off. There were a few hitches -- at one point, for instance, they were slightly mauled by a cat and only managed to get rid of it when it happened to stick its head inside and fled upon hearing an
excellent imitation of a lion's snarl from the hat's voice.

But they could sense, in a general way, where their counterparts' minds were -- so after an exciting moment when Godric stalked past them without looking down, they managed to find Helga and Rowena together in the same room.

"Would one of you ladies please put me on?" the Hat's voice said. "I believe there are questions that need answering."

After a moment, they were picked up and vigorously dusted before settling onto Helga's head. Hello....

"What is Godric doing trying to get rid of Slytherin House?" Salazar asked with some heat. "We saw the argument, but that doesn't justify taking it out on the students!"

Well, the House will still exist until the current students finish, Helga told them quietly. As Salazar's left, however, and that thought tasted bitter with indignation and betrayal, he clearly won't be taking on any more students. Her tone changed startlingly to wistfulness. We have missed you, though.

Godric's voice vibrated with disbelief. "Wait just a minute. The memory didn't feel that old -- how long has he been gone?"

Nearly a fortnight. Not so very long, I suppose, but it's very strange.

"And none of you thought to ask about a successor?" Salazar's tone was carefully even. "You just thought you'd shuffle my House neatly under the rug and forget about us, hmm?"

He is the one who decided he couldn't stay in a school with Muggle-borns. If he wishes to start his own I suppose he might as well. The thought was cold.

"Helga, really!" the disembodied Helga remonstrated, rather startled by her other self's attitude. But then, she had hardly been able to believe he'd actually go herself, at first....

"Well, if you're going to eliminate my purpose in this Hat, then, I'm surprised you haven't come by to destroy me by now." Salazar took the disembodied voice equivalent of several deep breaths. "No, sorry, I've been out of sorts since Godric put on the Hat, but it's not fair taking it out on you either."

We couldn't, you know, she thought at them softly. And then, we can't much blame you for being out of sorts; I think all three of us have been since the argument, truth to tell.

Three.

"You've already cut him off completely, then, if you don't even think 'four' anymore." Salazar sighed. "Not that I can entirely blame you, either, from what I saw. Much though I'd like to. Will you at least consider finding a successor for Slytherin? If you and Rowena both agreed, you'd have Godric outvoted no matter how furious he is."

Salazar... I don't know what he's thinking. He's not here. A soft sigh. But I suppose he is too. She didn't answer the other.

"Helga, couldn't --"

"Listen." Helga interrupted Salazar and descended firmly on her other self's mind. "I know you see it as a betrayal that he left; I do too -- but you know how much he's done for the school. It wouldn't be right to cut off the House as well. At least think about it -- and may we talk to Rowena?"

"Thanks," Salazar murmured to Helga below the threshold of the public conversation. "Sorry I was being a git."

"It's all right. I can't blame you for being annoyed -- it wasn't your fault. But I can't entirely blame her for reacting as if you were the one who left, either. If it helps at all...she'd be entirely on his side, in this, if Godric had been the first to suggest he go."

"Except I wouldn't have --" Godric began.

"I don't know about that. Can you be certain, in the same heat, that you never would have suggested if he was so opposed to the Muggle-borns perhaps he should go instead?"

".....Not certain, no. But at least if!"

And then they were set on Rowena's hair instead. I understand you wanted to speak to me?

"I've also been kind of speaking for all of us, and I--oh, hello, Rowena." This last was in public mode, although still subdued. "Godric's just been by, and he's...rather angry."

I'm aware of that. The hat was shifted slightly as Rowena rubbed her temples. Let me guess: you don't want your House removed?

"Not if it can be avoided. It would be very hard on the students. And I'd be . . . well, stuck in here for eternity with nothing to do, and while Godric might enjoy that prospect at the moment I'm rather hoping you've a more objective outlook."

Godric will calm down eventually to the point of not flaring up again when you're mentioned... I think. I don't know about keeping the House when...Salazar has left the school himself, though perhaps we'll reconsider.

"Perhaps you should at least appoint an interim Head for Slytherin?" Godric broke in. "Helga mentioned the current Slytherin students would remain; it hardly seems fair to them or the...three of you to leave them without their own supervision."

"I'd imagine some of them have already started to, ah, express their disapproval," Salazar said with a hint of a chuckle in his voice. "We had to detour around a few puddles getting here."

Oh, dear. I suppose I'd better go see to --

"Actually," Rowena said quickly, "we were going to ask you for transportation."

...I gather this is something other than putting you back on your shelf?

"We'd like to visit Salazar as well."

I'm afraid I don't know where he is -- oh. You would, wouldn't you?

"Yes. Or, I know where you can send us that will get us to him. Preferably attached to a snake, otherwise I don't know how we'll activate the Portkeys."

You don't make these things easy, do you? Rowena asked dryly. Well, will a conjured one do?

"Easy is no fun. And it ought to do, if it lasts long enough."

Do you need it for more than two days?

"I shouldn't think so!"

Good, then.

"And even if we do, I can convince my other self to send us back direct."

Unless he decides to keep you there out of spite or some such. Now that should be interesting to explain.

"He won't," Salazar said confidently. "And if he does, we'll just act like a badly-behaved cat until he can't stand it anymore."

"We'll do what?" Godric asked somewhat later, in a bemused undertone, as Rowena was attaching them carefully to a Serpensortia-conjured snake. It was, entertainingly, blue and bronze.

"We're already planning to leap on his head from behind, aren't we? Maybe we can't piss in his shoes, but we can lurk, pounce, and sing."

"...I thought I was the one who's supposed to be annoyed with him here."

"You are. But if he doesn't send us back, I will become very annoyed with him. And I believe in planning ahead."

"And you are planning to act like a cat. Got it. ...Ah, we're going."

They bounced through a series of Portkeys, Salazar directing the snake from inside the Hat, and ended up in a small windowless room furnished as an entrance hall. "Quick, we need to get out of sight," Salazar said. "We won't have registered, as a technically inanimate object, but the snake will have sounded alarms."

"Do we also need to get the snake out of sight?"

"No, it'll be fine. We like snakes, remember? And they occasionally stumble across the Portkeys."

"In that case," Godric asked in exasperation as the hat clambered energetically up the wall, "and if we don't register, what is the point of getting out of sight? We are planning to let him know we're here."

"How likely is he to just put us on, given that this hat used to be yours? Just let's hang on to the doorframe here and we'll ambush him when he comes to find the snake."

"I hope he won't think we're a Lethifold," Helga remarked as they prepared to pounce.

"I'm going to yell 'We're not a Lethifold!' as soon as I see hair."

"Well, that should be convincing," Godric said dryly. "Why WOULD he think we're a Lethifold? They're hardly native."

"Probably because we're cloth-like and pouncing from above. I don't think he'd automatically jump to the conclusion that the Sorting Hat was ambushing him."

"Well, no, I suppose we are a bit improbable. I think I hear him."

"Right. On three." They jumped. "We're not a Lethifold, we're the Sorting Hat, don't blast us!"

"Salazar, the only effective defense against a Lethifold is a Patronus and that wouldn't do a thing to us!" Rowena pointed out in an undertone.

The other Salazar, whose head they were clinging firmly to, did not seem to find his other self's reassurance particularly reassuring. Possibly he hadn't recognized that it was his own voice; at any rate, he froze for a moment and gave

them all just enough time to register the alarm in his mind before trying to tear the hat off.

It probably wasn't all that reassuring to have the brim clench firmly and refuse to be removed either, but it seemed to be a reflex.

"Hey! Hey! Easy on the seams, you git!" Salazar-in-the hat shouted. "Not like we're not already ripped, you know."

"I think we scared him," Helga muttered, "despite not being a Lethifold. Salazar, we aren't attacking -- Godric! Tell him we're not attacking him!"

"We're not attacking you," Godric informed the head obligingly.

There was a concentrated mental howl of fury, and Salazar redoubled his efforts to remove the Hat.

"I could have told you that wouldn't work," the Salazar in the Hat said dryly. "Remember how Godric reacted to me?"

There was a muttered apology from Godric and Helga both; Rowena sighed loudly into everyone's mental ears and remarked very calmly, "Your hair is wet." Which it was, although this did not seem especially relevant.

There was a longish pause. I was walking in the rain, Salazar said eventually.

He also stopped wrestling with the Hat, which was a great relief to everyone inside it -- and possibly to him as well, since this allowed the Hat as a whole to relax and sit on his head properly. It really wasn't made to grip anything, much less fit properly while doing so. Rowena, having been the most successful so far, took it upon herself to continue. "Any particular reason?"

It relaxes me. How did you get here?

"What, you forgot I knew how to, just as well as you did?" Salazar asked with a snort. "We had a snake bring us -- it should still be in here someplace."

I'll see it has food and a way home if it wishes one--and mostly I was unaware you could...well, perch in doorways and leap. Has he been teaching you new tricks?

"What, I don't have a name now?" Godric muttered without letting the words escape the Hat. He restrained himself from saying anything to Salazar again yet, however, and kept quiet through Helga's response.

"I assume 'he' would be Godric, particularly the outside one -- in which case I suppose you could say he inspired us to learn new tricks, as he decided to stop by and make announcements with entirely too little explanation. So we went looking for the rest of you, you see."

I am no longer the rest of anyone but myself, though I admire the amount of effort it must have taken to reach me. I'll just send you back directly.

"Not yet you won't!" Godric burst out, only to be frantically shushed by the other three as Salazar reached up to seize convulsively on the Hat again. Concluding that the damage was done by that point, he ignored the shushing and charged verbally ahead. "We came here to talk to you and are not leaving without doing so --"

Salazar's thoughts were filled predictably with rising fury again, and somewhat more oddly with rising alarm. We've talked, and I have no interest in --

"Having the argument over again? I hope not, I don't want to either. And calm down, won't you? I don't particularly blame you for being angry with me, but what in earth and sky do you think we're going to do?"

"We could probably give him a nasty bump on the head with some of the junk in the storage space, I suppose," Salazar mused absently. "But I add my vote to not repeating the argument. We just want to know your side."

"And don't try to tell us we saw the words and your other-self should know the thoughts perfectly well," Godric added almost cheerfully, "because we went over that before we came here."

And I suppose you aren't about to let go until you're satisfied, Salazar said acerbically. Did you leave word where you were going, or shall I expect Godric to track you, break through my wards, and remove you at my jawline?

"Given your current state of mind," Godric retorted, "I'm going to take it as a compliment that you assume he could break the wards and ignore the fact that you should know us better than to expect that."

No ward is infallible. And I don't know Godric anymore.

A soft but heavy sigh. "I suppose I can see why you'd think that; both of you gave us something of a shock, I admit. But I still know my other-self reasonably well -- and you still know me, I think."

If you're offering yourself as an arbiter, there is... nothing left to arbitrate.

"Actually I was trying to convince you that we aren't about to get you tracked down and killed... or drop things on your head, for that matter. I'd prefer to have you come back, yes -- but at the moment you're listening to me better than

Godric was, so I'm not certain how much good I'd be able to do if you did."

Well, I won't be going back. But I should hope I have better command of my temper than Godric does.

"I have to say I'm sorry about the response if not especially surprised, but if you tell me 'They leave or I do' was a well-thought-out comment...." Godric said dryly.

I said I had better command of my temper, not that I had absolute command of it.

"Fair enough. But what were you thinking..?"

Helga winced, half-expecting this to kindle Salazar's temper again, but hoped he'd see that the question was far more pained than accusatory by this point.

I suspect neither of us was thinking by that point, Salazar answered dryly My own line of reasoning was fairly simple; I do not trust the Muggle-born, Godric refused to see things from my perspective, and so I left. If they turn on him, it will be just what he deserves.

"Not that most of them trust you by now either," Godric retorted, "and I can see things from your perspective at this point, and still disagree with you, and despite that still feel the school's not complete without you. Just for the record." Another sigh. "Helga and Rowena said they've missed you, by the way."

Nothing's stopping them from coming to visit.

"I'm afraid my own other-self still feels your leaving to be a betrayal," Helga put in gently, "but aside from that, do they know how to get here? We didn't."

Of course she does. Godric all but throws me out and I'm the traitor. Salazar snorted. Although that is a point...but even so, they can contact me through the fire.

"Well, you did suggest it -- and you needn't have thrown down an ultimatum, but then Godric needn't have taken you seriously. You're both ridiculously stubborn," she declared. As Helga's own determination (or obstinacy, if one wished to be less diplomatic) was approaching legendary status in her own time, this statement was met by four throat-clearings -- or at any rate one, and three disembodied semblances thereof. "But there is the fire, that's true, and perhaps they will."

I won't hold my breath. Obviously they'd rather side with Godric. Was there anything else you wanted, or do I get my head back?

"To tell you we'll still be sorting into your House, I suppose," Rowena said.

I hadn't realized that would be a question. Good old Godric.

"Thank you," said Godric. "You're making it very tempting to drop things on you after all, actually. But there will be no question now." Somehow, without a face or even a mouth, Godric conveyed the feeling of an impish grin. "You all did bind yourselves and the rest of the school to abide by our decisions."

So we did. I rather wish I could see Godric's face when you remind him of the fact.

"I'm afraid you'd have to be there."

Salazar sniffed. Not likely.

"It's not as if you haven't seen him completely frustrated and bewildered before. Several times, in fact," Salazar-in-the-hat said.

True enough...

"And I can't even drop anything on you," Godric muttered to the disembodied Salazar with little real rancor.

"And doesn't that just frustrate and bewilder you?"

"I'll grant that it's frustrating, but as I made the Hat I certainly have no reason to find it bewildering," Godric countered as the outside Salazar shivered slightly and finally went looking for a towel.

"Yes, well, continuity of phrase. Besides, I like being immune from retaliation. Might be easier if we could shut our counterparts up in a room somewhere until they learned to behave."

"Rowena," Godric said immediately, "any ideas?"

"Not when all we've got to work with is a hat," Rowena said thoughtfully. "I told you we should have empowered a chair."

Why do I suspect you're only saying that to put me off guard? Salazar grumbled.

"No, that would be if I were saying it," Salazar-in-the-hat replied with the impression of a grin. "Rowena's more likely to treat it as a straight intellectual exercise."

If YOU said it I'd know to be suspicious -- so it's only logical to have someone else do so. He sniffed again, and they caught the thought that he had perhaps spent a little too long walking in the rain.

"Well," Godric told him in a very serious tone, "you should have worn a hat."

Ha, ha.

"We should have arrived sooner," Helga suggested mischievously.

I can still remember when you used to just be Godric's old hat and you got wet. I do not want that smell lingering in my house, thank you.

"It was not that bad," said Godric indignantly.

"Yes it was," said both Salazars in unison.

"It really was," Rowena said, "and not at all relaxing. I always wondered what you'd got it into."

"Somehow I don't think we're exactly relaxing in general," Helga murmured.

"We're not supposed to be relaxing," Salazar pointed out, "we're supposed to make life-changing decisions for eleven-year-olds. And sing."

"I only meant we'd probably defeat the purpose of walking in the rain in the first place."

"Oh, well, yeah, probably. Pity, that, I like a good walk in the rain."

Since you can walk, sort of, could you take a walk in the rain sometime and then hide somewhere in Godric's office until the walls turn brown?

"No," said Godric firmly. "Sorry."

Drat. Worth a try.

"You should go sit by a fire," Helga said severely, "and we should have told you to do so in the first place instead of having you stand about and drip -- though you ought to remember that sort of thing for yourself, too. You used to remember to warm up properly after that sort of thing." She paused. "And anyhow, isn't it February?"

Yes, but it's not that cold, Salazar said rather mutinously. We're a good deal further south than the school, you know.

"Which is, I'm sure, why it isn't snowing instead."

Exactly. And I'm not dripping, I'm just rather thoroughly damp.

"And we should have let you get by a nice fire and dry off instead of keeping you so through a long chat."

I don't mind damp. Sudden shocks are rather a different story.

"Right then. So if we visit again, you'll put us on voluntarily so we don't have to pounce on you?" Godric suggested amiably.

Are you planning to? Visit again, I mean?

They technically hadn't been, up to that point, but after a second's startled silence there was a murmur of agreement and Godric replied, "I think we could manage it, so yes -- if you like."

If it doesn't get you in trouble with the other three...no, I wouldn't mind the occasional visit. You remind me of what it was like before we mucked it all up.

"Rowena conjured the serpent who brought us here," Helga said warmly, "and really, there's not much they could do about it except refuse to help."

Or keep you locked in a box between Sortings, or alter the spell that binds you to the hat to make you more pliable.

"We could get out of a box, I think," Rowena said consideringly.

"And that last one won't work," Godric added. "I should know."

Not one sealed by magic. He paused at Godric's words. That's good to know, though. That was one of the first things I wondered about after I left.

"Our personalities would be next to impossible to change unnaturally. And as for a sealed box...I did build in a fair amount of resistance in case of anyone ever trying to steal us. Granted my other-self knows perfectly well what all of them are, but...it still wouldn't be easy to get around them."

"And Rowena's and mine would likely help us get free -- assuming Godric's did try to seal us up. I don't think he's really happy about your being gone either."

"Furniture-breakingly furious, but technically not happy, no," Salazar-in-the-hat added wryly. "I for one am quite glad the Sorting takes place out in public where a scene would be awkward."

What, you think that will stop him?

"No, I think Helga and Rowena will. They'll be sitting right next to him."

"Such a pity you'll miss it if they decide to cast a Body-Bind," Godric said blandly. "Are you sure you don't want to come watch?"

You aren't funny, and I would glare at you if you were visible.

"Doesn't have to stop you. I'm glaring at him and neither of us are visible. Rather spoils the effect, but it's the thought that counts."

I suppose...On that note, not that I'm complaining, why haven't the other three of you aligned with...the three of them?

"Partly because I haven't been...rash enough to draw any lines in the dust, as it were. We're rather stuck with one another."

That hardly forces any of you to come look for me.

"We wanted to talk to you," Helga said patiently. "There was some argument involved over whether to try looking for anyone, actually, but certainly no coercion."

"Of course, it doesn't hurt that around the time the Hat was made we all essentially got to read each other's minds. Yours, technically," Rowena added to clarify, "but there hadn't been time for much divergence then."

I suppose that would tend to promote understanding.

"As your other-self pointed out. I suppose you should know we are angry with you as well, at least some of us -- simply not as much."

"And they know they'll have me to kick around for the foreseeable future, so they don't have to take it out on you," Salazar added helpfully.

"There's not that much point in us taking it out on either of you, really," Godric remarked. The towel brushed against the brim of the Hat, and he sighed. "Just out of curiosity, if I were to join Helga in suggesting you go sit by the fire,

would it double the length of time it takes you to get there?"

Possibly triple. Salazar's tone was definitely amused. If I were to get into the habit of doing things because Godric Gryffindor told me to, I'd have to start with several things that are anatomically impossible even for a Transfiguration expert.

"So not doing something because I suggest it outweighs, say, doing it because it might make sense? Now you tell me."

The deciding factor tends to be which alternative would irritate you the most. I thought you said you'd read my mind.

"I did. It was very surprising; I had always thought I must be overestimating how much of a priority you put on being annoying."

It's one of the few unmitigated joys in life. Although I must say it wouldn't be nearly as much fun if you weren't so easy. I will miss that.

"If you make yourself sick in the effort I shall laugh at you, actually. And probably tell the tale next time the other Godric puts on the Hat."

Damn. You have been reading my mind. Salazar hung the towel over one shoulder and walked briskly into the sitting room, where a roaring fire was already going. Satisfied, you horrible blackmailer?

The Sorting Hat snickered at him in multiple voices. "Well, I am," Helga said a bit smugly. "Much better."

I am quite good at nursing myself through a head cold, you know.

"That's hardly a reason to court one."

Have to keep my hand in somehow. Snakes don't really get colds.

"Now there's an odd image."

What, a snake with stuffed-up sinuses? It happens very occasionally, and they get quite vocally irritated.

"As do some humans I could name." Helga sounded as if she should be grinning.

Yes, well, count yourself lucky you don't have to decipher phlegm-filled hissing.

"We'll keep that in mind."

Salazar sighed. I suppose you'd best be going... soon, at any rate. You'll be missed.

"Here or there?" Rowena shot back lightly; he winced a bit, and she added less flippantly, "It's not that much of a rush; Rowena knows we're not lost. Fairly soon, though."

Not lost, perhaps, but I'd rather not lead them to believe I've taken you hostage...no matter how well-defended you are.

Rowena chuckled. "Well, she asked if we'd need the conjured serpent to last for more than two days, so I don't think she'll start worrying too quickly."

Did she? Salazar smiled. I'm glad she still thinks me so trustworthy.

"I'll admit, though, that you should have heard Salazar's contingency plans just in case you did try to keep us here. During which Godric, curiously, did not mention his own precautions...."

"I was a bit distracted."

Now I'm rather curious. What were the contingency plans?

"Well," said Salazar from the Hat, "what would you have planned?"

As a mobile but not overly-strong hat that can talk? Hm. Probably hide somewhere and be irritatingly noisy.

"I think any attempts to hide would be nullified by the noise, actually, but other than that close enough. Pounce on you at odd moments, sing, that sort of thing. Much like an ill-behaved if unfortunately declawed cat."

It would depend on the hiding spot. There are a few places around here where the acoustics would be deceptive. Pouncing's workable in this case, but I wouldn't treat it as a universal tactic--you might not know the next one as well as you do me.

"Naturally not. We rather had to leap on you at least once, of course; I can't imagine you'd have put on the Sorting Hat voluntarily, at least without a long argument first."

Oh, I might have, if only to find out how you'd gotten here. Once I'd made certain you weren't a trap, of course.

"Fair enough. Apologies for alarming you, in that case, though it was quicker."

Well, and undoubtedly more effective; I'd still be running hex tests if you'd waited for me to make the first move.

"Then we would have needed more than two days," said Godric.

"Why do you think I suggested we pounce on him?" Hat-Salazar asked. "We tend to be a bit paranoid."

"A bit?"

Well, Godric really is out to get us, so less than usual.

Godric made an indignant noise.

All right, all right, the other one -- I think.

"Although technically this one is the one that's jumped on your head," Hat-Salazar pointed out.

"Would be much more uncomfortable if the other one did," Helga murmured.

"No argument here."

This one's also being...somewhat more reasonable, however.

"Well, I was as surprised as the rest of them when he put us on and ranted at us."

At least you weren't his target.

"No, that's true." Godric paused. "It was...a bit of an eye-opener for me, though, target or no. Never been an outside observer to my own fits of temper before."

Shouting or quiet this time?

"Shouting, at us. We saw the other, though."

Mm. I think that was the first time he'd gone quiet with me. It probably should have been a warning sign, but I was well off on my own by then.

"I noticed," Godric said regretfully. "It probably should -- but then, it seems that particular level of anger isn't nearly as clear as I usually felt it was, either. At least not when directed at someone who shouldn't actually be an enemy."

It's noticeable enough when he uses it on other people. I wasn't expecting it; we used to just scream at each other until we ran out of energy, then find a way to compromise.

"I remember."

Well...it was fun while it lasted. I suppose eventually I'll have to find something to do with the rest of my life.

That silenced the Hat for a bit; even to the most practical it seemed a little unreal to think that Salazar truly never would be back at the school. Finally Godric replied, "I'm sure it will be very...will it make you feel better if I say

spectacular or annoying?"

Mm. I was actually considering research, or basilisk breeding. Something quiet and restful. But I appreciate the thought.

"...Basilisks are restful?"

For a Parselmouth. Not as restful as, oh, garden snakes, but I don't want to be bored.

"Breeding basilisks could probably be called spectacular," Rowena said thoughtfully, "but I somehow doubt it would be most people's first choice of adjective."

Which only makes it a more attractive prospect, you know. He sighed. I don't know. Well, if all else fails, I can try settling down and having a family.

"I wouldn't recommend it if it sounds like that gloomy a prospect to you," Helga said, sounding rather bemused.

It's not, really. I've thought about it, but I never had the time...I was just thinking, well, I do now.

"True -- you'll keep me updated? Well, I suppose that's another reason to visit." The Hat-Salazar sounded interested in the prospect.

You expect me to gossip with...myself...about my love life? Salazar asked, one eyebrow arched. It is another reason to visit, though, yes.

"Well, you have to admit I have reason to be interested, but if it's too surreal for you I suppose you could think of it as talking to Godric."

Godric laughed. "I don't think that's going to help!"

Just for that, I may insist on sharing my confidences solely with the Hat's own consciousness, and letting the rest of you go hang. He grinned. A moot point, for the near future, however.

"No one in mind, then, I see."

No one in particular, no.

"Ah well... just curious."

Why, do you?

"No, or I'd have asked about her by name already. I don't even know for sure what witches might have moved in or out of the area by now...."

No more do I, not having lived here full-time for these past years. Bears investigation.

"Look out she doesn't mind the basilisks."

Getting her not to mind me will be the first hurdle. It's been a busy fortnight at the rumor mill.

Helga definitely winced. "Oh dear. Should I ask?"

Apparently I'm suspected of...rather unsavory practices.

"Dark Arts? Or not so drastic?"

Necromancy, unethical experiments...probably inappropriate attentions to goats, next, I shouldn't wonder.

"You'd better start socializing right away if you haven't yet. You'd have to come across better in person even if you were trying to be irritating."

You're probably right. I was rather enjoying my sulk, though.

"Oh, no wonder you're causing rumors," Godric said with some disgust. "You caused rumors at Hogwarts when you were in a foul mood, though obviously much less sinister ones."

Well, excuse me for not throwing a party every night. I'll thank you to remember I'm not the only one to blame--not that I'd expect you to do so.

"If you --" Godric broke off the angry response, paused, and then said calmly, "I do and I've said so, and I'll thank you to remember that I'm not the one of us you were arguing with...and if I were, I wouldn't have much room to talk about foul moods at the moment. For that matter, if you were happy about this I'd be worried. But you do tend to emanate gloom when you sulk -- and I can imagine that air being, ah, misinterpreted."

Salazar sighed and rubbed his temples under the brim of the Hat. Points taken. I suppose I've been self-indulgent long enough.

"Mm. Well, one or another of us usually wound up distracting you from it, I believe, so I suppose it's a good thing we finally got here."

Heh. More incentive to find a nice witch, that; I can't count on you always coming round.

"Between that and the basilisks, one could start to feel sorry for her," Rowena said teasingly, "though of course we would come if we could and knew when we might be needed."

Ah, you'll have your metaphorical hands full with my counterpart, I suspect. Toss him a few of the borderline students now and then, will you?

"We'll see what we can do."

"Now and then?" Hat-Salazar muttered.

"As if you won't put in a good showing on every last one of them," Godric told him brightly. "Not really a question of tossing them."

"Well, yes, but you'd think my originator would have a bit more confidence."

Well, how often does one get the fun of self-deprecation combined with poking fun at someone else?

"Well, by all means," said Godric, "if you two want to make fun of one another, go right ahead."

Did being in the Hat for so long affect your memory, Godric? I TOLD you I'll only do what you tell me to if I know it will ANNOY you. Watching us make fun of each other would just make you laugh.

"You could make an exception just this once?" Godric suggested wistfully.

Now why would I make an exception I don't profit from?

"Who says you don't profit? It was, after all, your own idea," Helga put in cheerfully.

"Yes, a moment ago you were extolling its advantages," Rowena added.

That was before Godric piped up. I've recalculated the advantages.

"I wish we'd known about this before," Rowena murmured musingly. "If we want you to do something, we just have to have Godric suggest the opposite?"

I wonder if arguing with all four of us combined always gives a person a headache, or if it's just me...

"I don't know," Godric said thoughtfully, "but now I think you should definitely stay here...."

"We know that one doesn't work," Salazar muttered.

He's right. Although I could go for another walk, it's still raining.

"Wear a hat this time, please," Helga suggested, then added mischievously, "You could wear US and we promise to be at least a little damp when we next see Godric."

It never seemed to bother him nearly enough.

"Well, there ARE several charms you could try...not that I'm suggesting you DO, of course!" Rowena concluded hurriedly. "Ahem. Never mind."

Somehow I don't think magically sabotaging his Hat is a prudent move at this point.

"It's all right," Godric said comfortingly, "it probably won't work anyway."

Is that a challenge?

"Is anyone else offended at being called his Hat?" Helga sniffed. "We're our OWN Hat by now, certainly, even if the source material belonged to Godric."

"Salazar, you're slipping. I think you just insulted everyone in here except me."

"He'd probably see it that way in any contest with Salazar, though, you have to admit," Hat-Salazar said. "Not as if he's exactly rational these days."

"We are, technically, still affiliated with the school," Godric noted, "despite a certain amount of confusion regarding the boundaries of authority."

"In which case, I'll just get my OWN counterpart to cast the appropriate charms if a, er, stink attack ever becomes necessary," Rowena replied serenely. "We'll send you a recording, Salazar."

Thank you. Much appreciated.

"I doubt it will, though." Helga's voice was very firm.

"Does it have to be necessary, exactly?" Salazar mused. "Fun is necessary. And it'd give us new material for the songs, you know, 'Gryffindor with head of skunk . . .'"

Godric replied dryly, "If you can find a decent rhyme for 'skunk', I say go for it."

"'It served him right, the great big lunk?'" Rowena suggested with a grin.

"Godric is for some reason trying too hard to be nice," Helga declared. "We should not forget that Salazar did not have to leave."

Yes, I did. Salazar's voice was very quiet and very sad. By then, I did.

"It depends on when you mean by 'then,'" said Helga sternly, but then she relented and added in a gentler tone, "I know, there didn't seem to be much else for it. I think Godric would have backed down if you had, even... then, but I'm sure you've been over every possible recrimination by now."

Twice. I'm afraid it's an insoluble point."

The four personalities in the Hat were silent and sober for an uncharacteristically long time as they considered Salazar's words. "I...suppose you'd know better than anyone," Helga said at last. "I don't want to think about Hogwarts without you there, though." She sighed heavily. "But sometimes what's done is done, I suppose..."

And I do want to think about it? Salazar shook his head. But I have to. Slytherin House will need a new Head; should I send Rowena or Helga my list of recommendations?

His other-self gave a slight cough from within the Hat. "Well, they could ask me, though you might care to give an update if there's anyone I might not know about. That might go over better than correspondence." A pause. "And Rowena. Definitely."

Salazar nodded. A few of the first crop of students might do. I'll have to think about it. Quickly.

"Very. I have a feeling the students are quite confused by now, and I doubt my other-self is helping any," Godric sighed.

I suppose you could go about and leap on all of them and try to be reassuring, but....

Godric sounded as if that had drawn a slight grin. "We could speak aloud, for that. They can only hear the Hat's voice anyway. I suppose it couldn't hurt."

Hat-Salazar's voice was filled with dread. "I know that tone, Godric. You're planning on singing again, aren't you?"

"Well, why not?"

Salazar rolled his non-existant eyes and said long-sufferingly, "I NEVER should have agreed to the songs in the first place."

"And yet you did," Rowena said mischievously. "Still . . . it does seem a bit flippant given the subject matter."

"That would depend on the song," Godric pointed out. "And Salazar, I thought you liked singing."

"I was obviously still adjusting to being a disembodied mind in a hat," Salazar replied loftily. "I was clearly out of my head."

It turned out that four voices laughing hysterically into one mind from a hat was a highly contagious state of affairs.

Despite the absence of one of its Founders, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry continued on for the rest of the term with classes, exams, student life, and no more explosions than was usual. (Really.)

By conveniently not mentioning its source, Helga and Rowena were able to push Salazar's recommendation through Godric, bringing one of Slytherin House's first graduates back as temporary Head. He had his hands full throughout the summer planning coursework and learning about his new students, and if the occasional owl arrived with information and advice marked with a simple "S.S."...well, no one mentioned it to Godric and everyone was happy.

Time passed quickly enough for all involved. Even with the new House Head, the remaining three Founders had their hands full taking up the slack from Salazar's departure. Soon it was autumn again, with a new cluster of almost painfully-excited students standing in the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat was brought in...

The Hat was placed on a stool in front of the assembled students and shook itself slightly before the rip in the brim opened and it began to sing.

"Not so many years ago

Atop a starlit hill,

Four wizards joined together

To cast their founding spell.

Gryffindor, with voice raised strong,

Wove walls to ever stand,

For shelter and protection

Of students from all lands.

Ravenclaw, with noble mind,

Brought knowledge now to share,

To teach young minds and bodies

Of magics old and rare.

Slytherin, of cautious heart,

Gave spells of craft and guile,

So this school would always save

Students who faced harsh trials.

Hufflepuff, to join them all,

Filled this fortress of stone

With warmth, happiness, and love

To make the school a home.

Thus Hogwarts School here was formed

By these four friends so true,

And each year more student come

To learn their magics new.

And so each year as I look

Into your hearts and minds,

I put you where you belong,

And none doubt what I find!

You may fit in any House,

For all are worthy here,

Try me on now to begin

Our newest Hogwarts year!"

Applause rang out and the Hat bowed to all. There was a long moment of expectant silence, then Professor Ravenclaw coughed and directed the first student to the Hat. The young boy sat, nearly bouncing with eagerness, as the Hat poured over his mind and weighed out the qualities he possessed. Professor Gryffindor was wearing a thunderous expression that only eased when the rip opened again and shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!" for all the Hall to hear.

Two more students went to join Gryffindor's table, two to Ravenclaw, and one to Hufflepuff before the Hat took an inordinately long amount of time considering the fate of one blonde girl. The students were starting to rustle impatiently in their seats, Professors Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff exchanging significant looks. Then the Hat's mouth opened once more and shouted out:

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the far left burst into wild applause as they welcomed their newest member, but she cast a worried look at Professor Gryffindor before trotting over to join them. He was sitting stock-still in his seat, jaw clenched and one eye twitching in what any who knew him would recognize as absolute fury.

Deep inside the Hat, a quiet voice whispered, "I think we're in trouble."

"It worked!" Salazar shouted happily after the last student had been Sorted. Approximately one-quarter had gone into Slytherin House, to be educated with their cunning and ambitious brethren under the supervision of the new Head of House. None of the students appeared to think anything was wrong. Godric, however, had continued glaring at the Hat for the remainder of the ceremony.

"Worked beautifully," Rowena added smugly. "I told you he wouldn't interrupt."

Godric chuckled. "Yes, indeed. And they're stuck with it now, whether they like it or no--"

They were interrupted by an incoherent roar of fury coming from the head that the Hat had just been yanked over.

"Um....hello, Godric. Lovely Sorting, wasn't it?" Helga asked with a sort of determined cheerfulness.

I... told... you....

"Yes, well," the Hat-Godric interrupted, "we decided you were wrong."

WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DECIDE?!

"You did. You, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar."

The resulting blast of wordless fury made the entire Hat flinch. "If I confess I'm glad you're the one talking to him, Godric," Salazar muttered privately within the hat, "will you keep doing it?"

"You mean I had a choice?" he replied dryly.

"You did, until you spoke up," Rowena added. "I really think you're the only one who can deal with him right now."

"Right then. Squelch Salazar if he tries to interject."

"I'll keep to silent mutterings right now, thank you very much. I'm not sure if I CAN be removed from the Hat, but I don't really want your otherself to try!"

"I don't think it ought to be possible, but the attempt would definitely be uncomfortable." Godric turned his attention and words back to the fuming mind underneath the Hat. "Now, if you can get over the shock of my disagreeing with you enough to stop shouting, would you care for an explanation?"

Another blast of incoherent rage swept through the Hat.

Godric sighed. "Our temper is starting to embarrass me."

What...kind of...explanation, the physical Godric finally ground out, could possibly explain you going against MY DIRECT ORDER?!

"Let me see," the disembodied one shot back, "perhaps to begin with the fact that we are not actually under your authority? We're real enough, if arguably not precisely alive, and you should remember that quite as clearly as I do considering that we were still the same person while designing the Hat." Silence. "That established, neither you nor Salazar was thinking clearly during that argument, and I think that's done quite enough damage to the school already without our helping make things worse."

Another roar that nearly managed to deafen disembodied voices. I was thinking perfectly clearly!

"Godric," Salazar said uneasily, "are you sure this is helping?"

"He's still wearing the Hat, isn't he?"

"...Are you sure that qualifies?"

"While he's wearing it, he's not spell casting to remove us."

"Good point."

Godric sighed quietly into his other self's brain. "You were angry. You were both angry, and you were both very stupid about it."

I was angry, yes, but the only one being stupid about it was HIM! He's the one who chose to leave. There's no reason to keep his House at this school. Let him found his own.

"Don't try to tell me you've never made a threat you didn't really want to carry through. I was you, after all, and won't believe you. It was a foolish thing for him to say, but you didn't have to take it at face value, either."

If he hadn't meant it, Godric replied scathingly, he could have said so.

"Yes, he could -- and should have, but by then he didn't like to back down and didn't think you'd let him. You could have gone to stop him from leaving, too, but were too angry that he suggested it at all and didn't think he'd give in, did you?"

He suggested it, he has to live with it! Godric roared again. Why should I go begging to bring him back? For that matter, why should I bother keeping his House in the school?

"Because getting rid of it would be bad for the students, that's why! First of all it wouldn't be fair to the students who are already in it --"

I didn't suggest throwing them out--

"No, just implying that they're somehow lesser by not Sorting any more students in their House. And not having a full complement of students WOULD give them fewer opportunities than the others. Do you really want to hurt the students?"

They could always be reSorted into the other three, but I think this is less disruptive.

"But still disruptive. And really, irritating as I'll grant he is and always has been, Salazar did pick qualities that it's useful to cultivate. Slytherin House is worth having."

Is there any particular REASON you two decided to keep Sorting into Slytherin without TELLING me about it first? If you had reasonable arguments to make, we could have discussed them BEFORE the Sorting Feast!

"For one, when have you ever been reasonable? And for another, it was the FOUR of us who decided."

"Well," Helga said in an undertone, "sometimes you're both reasonable."

Very well, then, the four of you. You could have mentioned this ahead of time!

"We chose to present you with a fait accompli, as you didn't seem particularly inclined to listen."

Perhaps because I had perfectly good reasons to eliminate Slytherin House! You didn't even give me the option!

"And you didn't give US one," Rowena snapped.

You seem to have taken it anyway.

"We did read your mind," Godric pointed out. "We saw your reasons. I could have come up with them all myself, too. We still don't think it's a good idea, and we are where you placed the authority for Sorting."

PLEASE tell me I'm not nearly this annoying when I talk to people! the physical Godric snarled.

"Worse," Helga, Rowena, and Salazar chorused.

...You're only saying that because he's agreeing with you.

"You're frequently annoying, Godric," Helga said patiently. "Both of you. But you also have a great deal of positive qualities that make up for it. So try USING some of those, and realize that we're right." Her voice softened as she added, "When the four of us get together, we've always done wonderful things."

"And admit it," Godric added, "if you'd actually wanted him gone you wouldn't STILL lose your temper over his having offered to leave."

There was another wordless snarl, then nothing. After a moment, Salazar said incredulously, "Don't tell me he threw us OFF?! Honestly, Godric, you are the most stubborn man I've ever known."

"If he still had us on, we would be able to tell," Godric pointed out dryly. "And I don't see why you're surprised. He knows I'm right, though."

"I didn't say I was surprised. Now I suppose we'll just have to wait and see if he will admit what he knows. Knowing you, I'm not sure he will."

"Maybe in another year."

"...You don't think he'd try to keep us from next year's Sorting, do you?"

"He might. It won't work."

"I don't think mine or Helga's other selves would agree with that," Rowena put in thoughtfully. "...Well, and for that matter, we can always take ourselves to the next Sorting. Once we're there, no one can prevent us from Sorting all the students. It's a binding magical contract."

"Rowena, are you misquoting terms? It's not only that -- technically no Sorting is official unless we're involved."

"There is also that," she replied with a definite grin. "Although I would just as soon not tempt Godric into having a year's worth of unofficially-Sorted students."

"Well, no." Godric probably would have shaken his head if he'd had one. "Honestly. Salazar was easier to deal with."

"Thank you," the man in question replied dryly. "Being more rational than you is usually NOT that hard, Godric."

"You want me to leave you to talk to him next time?"

"No thank you," Salazar replied quickly.

"Regardless of what Godric or any of our other selves might think of the matter," Helga spoke up with uncharacteristic firmness, "we are not going to change our minds. Hogwarts was founded by the four of us, and no matter what anyone says, we are always going to be a part of its future."

And they were.

The End


Please Review Here.

Posted by rockygirl at 09:27 AM | Comments (0)

June 11, 2003

The Thinking Cap Returns by Andrea

Title: The Thinking Cap Returns
Author name: Andrea13
Author email: ra_1013@yahoo.com

Rating: G

Summary: The Founders in the Sorting Hat return to Sort another year's students...and deal with a BASILISK?!

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: Author's Notes: I'd like to take a brief moment to thank all the amazing people who sent feedback and reviews to "The Thinking Cap". I was absolutely stunned by the response. Since I've never had quite so many sequel requests before, I had to write this one. Special thanks as always to Persephone Kore for encouragement as needed, and to Alan for threatening a sequel called "Bride of the Thinking Cap". ;) As always, feedback is worshipped and adored at ra_1013@yahoo.com.

"Is it just me, or is this the smallest class yet?"

"They seem to just be getting smaller and smaller these past few years."

"If you two would do your research while we have these children's whole minds to explore instead of just looking for all the stupid -- excuse me, 'daring' and 'cunning' -- things they've done, you might learn something. Most of these children were born just before the war was over. Who has lots of children in the middle of a war?"

Rowena's voice was tart as she chided the men, but Godric and Salazar sounded completely unrepentant as they chorused, "Yes, Mum."

Helga snorted. "Honestly, the two of you have never grown up."

"A thousand years of nothing but eleven-year-olds to listen to," Godric replied promptly. "Besides, you're only as old as you feel."

"And since none of us have bodies anymore," Rowena interjected, with the definite impression of rolling her eyes, "you two can feel as juvenile as you want."

"It would get very boring in here after all this time if we were staid and proper wizards all the time," Godric explained earnestly. "Relax, Rowena. It looks like we're almost through with this class."

"And speaking of who would have lots of children in the middle of a war," Salazar suddenly spoke up, sounding very excited, "it's a Weasley!"

"Oh, how lovely. They finally had a girl. Her mother must have been so pleased," Helga cooed.

"Remember what we agreed last year, Godric. This one's MINE!" Salazar said fiercely. "I'm not letting you steal another one away from me."

"I never agreed to anything," Godric protested quickly. "YOU said that. I'm not about to give up a Gryffindor to the bone just because you're jealous!"

"She's not a Gryffindor! Look at that ambition -- wanting to stand out in her family, wanting a boy to notice her. Modest ambition for now, but strong for a girl her age. And there's something...I just can't put my finger on."

"You don't have fingers anymore," Godric snorted, "and you're just stalling. Look at her, she's completely fearless! Not that I'm surprised, after dealing with those brothers of hers." Godric chuckled warmly. "See, I told you those twins were a perfect fit for my House!"

Salazar snarled and grumbled, "DON'T remind me about the twins right now. And she's hardly fearless. She's terrified of that Parselmouth you stole from me last year."

"That's different. She likes him."

"If that's the Gryffindor approach to romance, I'm shocked your House has lasted this long. Wait, is that why you feel the need to let in all those Muggle-borns? Not even purebloods reproducing?"

"Now you're just trying to be annoying."

"Is it working?"

"Boys," Rowena spoke up dryly, "before you continue in this vein all night, we DO have a Sorting to finish."

"Right. Put the girl in Gryffindor."

"No!" Salazar snapped. "I'm telling you, there's something..."

"If you can't give me anything more than 'there's something', I'm taking her."

"Not again! Rowena, Helga?"

"I'm sorry, Salazar dear, but I truly think Godric's right," Helga said soothingly. "I know you wanted a Weasley, but there's always the next one."

"But she's the youngest! And there really is something...compelling about her. Don't you see it?"

"There's always the next generation," Rowena added. "There are always plenty of Weasleys. Maybe next time."

The Hat shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Ginny Weasley sighed with relief as she handed the Hat to the next person and trotted off to join her cheering brothers at the Gryffindor table.

But even as she was grinning fit to crack her face and settling down with her new Housemates, Salazar was still mumbling, "There's just something...I can't put my finger on..."

*****

"I'm bored."

"You say that at least ten times a day now. Honestly, Salazar, this is the perfect time for reflection and thinking."

"We've been reflecting and thinking for a thousand years now, Rowena," he countered snappishly. "I've thought all the deep thoughts I can think, and I'm BORED!"

"I have an idea!" Helga suggested perkily.

"THIS is when I regret just being a disembodied mind trapped in a hat. I can't strangle you for being too cheerful!"

"Oh stop being so grumpy! You threatened to do that all the time when we WEREN'T just disembodied voices, and you never did. Now then," she went on briskly, "if you're so bored, we could work on next year's song!"

"Whose bloody idea was it to SING every year?" Godric grumbled.

Three voices chorused back at him, "YOURS!"

"Which is why," Salazar added silkily, "you should never cast a complicated spell whilst half-DRUNK!"

"I was NOT half-drunk. I'd just had a bit of mead," Godric shot back defensively.

"I think it's a lovely idea," Helga interrupted before the two men could come to...well, as close to blows as two disembodied minds could manage. "It's so much fun! And the children do enjoy it; just think about what lovely memories they have of it for years to come. Come on, it's never too early to start next year's! We can describe you as tall, dark, and handsome this year, Salazar."

"Really?" The wizard seemed cheered by that promise. "But Rowena said that was a bad idea with my current reputation."

"Nonsense! I think it's lovely! I'm sure everyone will understand the metaphor." Helga promised airily. "Now come on, let's get--I say, what's happening? It's far too early to be time for Sorting again! Who is this boy?"

"It's that young Parselmouth from last year, remember?" Rowena put in, sounding intrigued. "Oh, look at how little he's studying. I knew he'd waste that mind in Gryffindor." She giggled. "Oh, the poor dear's afraid we put him in the wrong House!"

"As if WE'D make a mistake!" Godric puffed. "He's in the perfect House."

Meanwhile, Salazar was cavorting as merrily as a disembodied mind could cavort and shouting to the Hat, "YES! It's not too late to transfer, you know! Come on, boy, just say the word and you'll be where you belong!"

Godric made a highly offended (or possibly rude; it was difficult to tell) noise and shouted, "Oh no you don't! He's MINE! Don't listen to--He's taken off the Hat! What if he BELIEVED you?!"

"Then he'll be right where he belongs!"

"I am NOT letting you steal one of my students!"

"Like you're one to talk, Mister 'I've had every Weasley in the past 86 years'. Even when they're CLEARLY more suited to my House. That Percy had a plan to become Minister of Magic at age ELEVEN! How much more ambitious do they need to be before I can have them?!"

"Are you STILL sulking over that Ginny girl from this year? Whine, whine, whine, that's ALL you do! You'd think after a thousand years--"

"Oh be QUIET, Godric. You've been annoying me since the Renaissance!"

"It took me that long?"

"I was IGNORING you before that!"

*****

"All right, I'm thinking of something...black!"

"A badger," three voices chorused.

Helga sniffed. "Well, you don't have to sound like it's so obvious," she said in a hurt voice. "I could have picked something else this time."

"Helga, you've picked that for the past three hundred years," Rowena replied in a long-suffering tone.

"Which would make this the perfect time to choose something else."

"All right, all right. I apologize. What DID you choose."

There was a long pause, then Helga admitted in a very quiet voice, "A badger. But I COULD have picked something else!"

A trio of groans met that pronouncement.

Helga huffed. "Honestly. At least I'm trying! It gets awfully dull around here between Sortings. At least I don't spend all my time sulking over petty grievances."

"I am NOT sulking. Just because I happen to think that Parselmouths are rare enough that I should get first claim--"

"Will you STOP going on about Potter?" Godric snapped in exasperation. "The boy is Sorted. It's done with. I've let YOU get away with stealing some Gryffindors at heart, and you don't catch me whining about it years later. I still say that Snape boy--"

"I'm ignoring you again."

"Good. Now maybe I can get some peace and--"

\\Help me -- help me -- Please help me--//

The Founders were all shocked into silence by the thin voice suddenly pleading with them.

"It's Potter again!" Rowena exclaimed. "I don't think we've ever seen a student this much!"

"Where on Earth are we? And where did a BASILISK come from?!" Helga squeaked.

Salazar coughed. "Er, didn't I mention? Ah...anyway...Ah-HAH! That's what it was about that Weasley girl. I knew Riddle was going to be a problem. That's what I get for taking halfbloods."

"YOU LEFT A BASILISK IN THE SCHOOL?!"

"Ouch. Ah, priorities! Keep the boy alive first, yell at me later?" Salazar suggested frantically.

"Oh. Right. Help him fight a basilisk when we're DISEMBODIED VOICES IN A HAT!" Godric shouted.

Salazar hissed. "Why doesn't the boy just try talking to -- Godric, did you just drop a SWORD on his head?"

"Lovely, give the boy a concussion instead of help!" Helga snapped.

Godric protested, "He was supposed to duck!"

"This is the problem with choosing students based on bravery, not intelligence."

"Oh shut UP, Rowena!"

"How does one duck when a hat starts dropping things on your head?" Salazar asked dryly.

"...That's not the point! If he'd just put the bloody Hat back on, we could find out what's going on..."

"There's not much we can do about it, unless Godric hid another sword up here without mentioning it to us," Rowena pointed out logically. "Now Salazar, about this basilisk..."

*****

"I hate all this waiting."

"We've done nearly nothing BUT wait for all these years, Helga. Surely you've gotten used to it by now."

"That's beside the point, Rowena! Usually we're waiting for a happy event. Now we're waiting to find out if that dear little Parselmouth and the Weasley girl SURVIVED!"

"I know you didn't like them being Sorted into Gryffindor, Salazar, but a MURDER plot?!" Godric snarled, wishing he had a body again so he could pace or at least tap his foot impatiently.

"For the thousandth time, I didn't do it!" Salazar protested. "I TOLD you that halfblood would be nothing but trouble, but NO! You all said, 'Expand your horizons, Salazar.' 'There's more to life than purebloods, Salazar.' HAH!"

"Look!" Helga exclaimed suddenly. "Hair! Is it--no, it's not the Parselmouth. Oh look, it's Albus!"

"Albus! Thank goodness," Godric exclaimed gratefully. "He always was one of my favorites. Such a bright boy. How's my Parselmouth?"

"Albus! I'd wave if I had hands," Salazar said happily.

\\I thought I should thank you for your help. You will be pleased to know both Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley have come through their ordeal intact.//

Relieved cheering filled the Hat.

"Oh, I KNEW everything would turn out all right!" Helga exclaimed.

"You weren't so confident a moment ago," Rowena pointed out, but she would be sniffling if she still had a body.

\\The basilisk has also been killed. Mr. Potter wishes to thank you for the sword, Godric.//

"What a polite boy," Godric said proudly. "You see? I knew he was too good for you, Salazar."

"You really need to stop gloating just because YOUR student became Headmaster," Salazar snapped. "I didn't MEAN for the basilisk to be used against the students!"

\\A bit of warning on the basilisk would have been nice, Salazar. But we made do. Young Mr. Potter is already fulfilling his potential.//

"In MY House," Godric added smugly.

Salazar just grumbled.

\\I'd best be going. I have a celebratory feast to oversee. Have a good summer.//

"Thank you, Albus!" Rowena and Helga sang out in chorus as the Headmaster removed the Hat. Godric managed to somehow convey smirking without a face.

"Stop gloating, Godric," Salazar grumbled. "It's not as if I MEANT for students to be in danger."

"Oh yes, that reminds me," Rowena purred. "Salazar, dear..."

Helga took up the torch and said in a sweetly deadly voice, "Since we're not worrying about the students anymore, I think it's time for us all to have a little talk about just what is appropriate to leave in the school."

"And the importance in confiding such things to your fellow Founders," Godric added dourly.

Salazar cleared his throat nervously. "...You're going to make me regret this, aren't you?"

"Us?" Helga asked innocently.

"You really don't have any faith in us, do you?" Rowena said sweetly.

Godric chuckled darkly and added, "Maybe just a bit..."

Salazar whimpered.

*****

"All right, all right, all RIGHT!! I, Salazar Slytherin, hereby apologize for setting up a secret chamber and raising a basilisk in it, even though I was TRYING to protect--"

"Stick to the script!" Rowena snapped.

Salazar sighed. "Fine. For setting up a secret chamber and raising a basilisk in it, for keeping secrets from my...dear...friends--"

"Who put up with you no matter how trying you are," Helga added.

"Or how many of my students you try to steal, corrupt, or murder," Godric interjected firmly.

"It's not MY fault that--nimrod Riddle used my poor basilisk to try to kill Muggle-borns! She was SUPPOSED to--"

"No excuses!" Godric bellowed. "One student died and half a dozen others NEARLY did, whatever your intentions were. Now get on with it. And find your own word."

A long-suffering sigh. "FINE. I, Salazar Slytherin, hereby apologize for setting up a secret chamber and raising a basilisk in it, for keeping secrets from my dear friends, who put up with me no matter how trying I am, and for somehow inspiring an insane student to using my name as justification for turning into a megalomaniac. THERE! Are you satisfied yet?"

"Hmm...yes, I think so," Helga said consideringly. "Rowena?"

"You're forgiven, but I reserve the right to bring this up later. Godric?"

"As long as he doesn't have some OTHER hidden room around here with some other large and deadly beast waiting to be discovered..." Godric said suspiciously.

"Any other large and deadly beasts around here probably belong to YOUR half-giant!"

"I don't think you have ANY room to be insulting MY students right now, Salazar."

"I apologized!"

"And we've accepted it," Helga said soothingly. "Right, Godric?"

Godric grumbled a bit, but eventually said grudgingly, "Apology accepted. Just don't do it again!"

"Oh, and it's so tempting, too," Salazar said dryly. "After all, there are so very many possibilities for mischief for a disembodied voice inside a hat..."

"We could always try dropping things on students' heads in the middle of the Sorting," Helga put in, her voice full of mischief.

"Hey!" Godric protested loudly, though he was laughing. "That was an emergency!"

**The End**


Please Review Here.

Posted by rockygirl at 09:33 AM | Comments (2)

The Thinking Cap by Andrea

Title: The Thinking Cap
Author name: Andrea13
Author email: ra_1013@yahoo.com
Rating: G

Summary: Every year the Sorting Hat decides which House each student belongs in. But how does it *really* make the decision?

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!/ And don't get in a flap!/You're in safe hands (though I have none)/For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Polite applause filled the Great Hall as the battered Sorting Hat bowed to all four tables, then sat still and silent in anticipation of the first student to be called forth for the Sorting. Professor McGonagall consulted a scroll of parchment, then called out, "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pixie-ish girl with fat blonde pigtails approached the Hat with mingled awe and excitement, pulling it on her head anxiously. While the whole Hall watched, she heard a gravelly voice in her ear. "Ah, the first student of a new year! Now where shall I put you? Hmm...such loyalty! Lovely to see. You're surely a HUFFLEPUFF!"

It shouted the last word to the entire Hall and the table on the far right burst into wild applause. Hannah's grinning face could again be seen as she removed the Hat and trotted off to join her new Housemates.

The same scene was played out every years, as the first years were Sorted into their Houses for their time at Hogwarts. No one ever really talked about the little voice some heard when they tried on the Hat, though some who doubted their placement took comfort in the Hat's comments.

What no one ever heard, however, were the four *other* voices arguing inside the Hat, before the first voice said a word...

"Oh, a new batch of students! I've been looking forward to this. It DOES seem that the crop of students has been a bit light lately."

"These things go in cycles, Rowena. I'm sure we'll have a good set."

"You're just happy because the first one was one of *yours*, Helga."

"And isn't that a good enough reason?" the second voice said cheerfully. It was a very nice sort of voice, bright and chipper, bringing to mind mischievous children and mothers who refused to actually grow up. It was a decided contrast to the coolly aristocratic tones of the first voice, though both were definitely female.

A third voice joined in the mix, male and brash and boisterous. "Of course it's a good reason, Helga. Now let's concentrate on this next one, hmm?"

"Yes, Godric," both women giggled in chorus, sounding for a moment like schoolgirls themselves, as the Hat they were housed in was placed on a new head, young "Bones, Susan".

A fourth voice joined in now, low and with a slight hint of hissing on the sibilants. "Sshe has ambition, but is as cunning as a rabbit," he said dismissively.

"So positive, as always, Salazar," Rowena said reprovingly, then began her own examination. "Hmm...well, not a bad mind, but NO desire to apply it."

"Oh! She has BADGERS!" Helga exclaimed, with the impression of hands clapping together excitedly. "Oh, I want her!"

"Is that all you care about?" Rowena asked in disbelief.

"Of course not. Look at how hard-working she is. She'd be a *credit* to my House. But she ALSO has *badgers*! She's perfect. Godric?"

Godric's voice had a definite grin in it as he replied, "She has no extraordinary bravery or daring. Go ahead and take her."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Oooh, I *like* this one," Rowena cooed approvingly as they looked into the mind of Boots, Terry. "What a bright boy. Such a fine mind. And all he wants to do in life is create new spells!"

"Rowena's in love," Godric laughed.

"One moment," Salazar put in. "That *ambition* to create new spells is certainly a fine one..."

"Oh, you can't -- he's so -- you *wouldn't*, Salazar!"

Salazar laughed. "Just teasing you, Rowena. He's yours."

"Oh YOU!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Why do they always do this so quickly?" Helga complained. "It's just rush, rush, rush, one student then another! They should enjoy this."

"Remember how excited the new students always were? They just want to know which of our glorious Houses they'll be placed in," Godric assured her. "They still appreciate us. Speaking of which, I think I want this one. Absolutely fearless!"

"Muggle-born," Salazar sniffed at Mandy Brocklehurst. "Yes, you can have her."

"You really need to work on these prejudices, Salazar dear," Helga chided gently. "Muggle-born students can be just as powerful as wizard-born."

"They're *my* prejudices, I've had them for a thousand years now, and I'm quite happy with them!" he snapped in reply. "Besides, I tried a halfblood fifty years ago, and look how THAT turned out!"

"Right, then, so we're agreed?" Godric interrupted briskly. "She's mine."

"Not so fast! We're being just as bad at rushing as they are," Rowena said with a haughty sniff. "We need to take our time and make certain that we Sort these children correctly. Their House can have a significant impact on their development as a witch or wizard."

"And you want this one," Salazar finished for her.

"I'm just saying that we should be sure!"

"And you want her," Salazar and Helga chorused together.

"Well...just because I think she'd be a better fit in my house than *Godric's*...I mean, honestly, Godric, there IS more to life than rushing blindly into things. Mature deliberation and reasoning will always see you through in the end."

"Which would be why you barricaded yourself in the library for a full year to figure out how to deal with that upstart wizard in the next town?"

"I found the solution in the end, didn't I?"

"AFTER I'd already dealt with him!"

"You accidentally knocked him off a cliff!"

"It *worked*, didn't it?"

Helga sighed. "They get into this every time they want the same student."

"You'd think they'd have worked this out by now," Salazar agreed. "Although it does get amusing when he picks up new slang from the students," he added thoughtfully as Godric shouted that Rowena was a pompous nimrod.

Helga giggled softly, then cleared her throat. "Ahem. I think Mandy's wondering if she's going to get Sorted."

Godric and Rowena kept shouting at each other, paying their fellow Founder no heed.

Helga shook her head. "Stiff-necked and stubborn, the both of you. "**QUIET!!**"

All other noise in the Hat abruptly ceased. "Now then," Helga continued primly, "if the two of you have finished shouting at each other, I believe we have a Sorting to attend to. Godric, Rowena, why don't you see what the *girl* wants?"

Moments later, the Hat was shouting out, "RAVENCLAW!", Rowena was gloating, Godric was sulking, and Lavender Brown was rushing forward to try on the Hat nervously.

The four Founders had worked together for a number of years even before being enshrined in the Hat, choosing their students according to their talents and temperaments. It had actually gotten easier since Godric's spell, since they now possessed the ability to look straight into the heads of the new students. They'd gotten their work down to nearly a science, able to Sort students far faster than they used to.

In the old days, a Sorting could take hours as they painstakingly sifted through each student's mind to identify the precise mix of intelligence, diligence, bravery, and ambition they possessed, and where those talents would be best used. Now some students took a bare heartbeat, their proper place instantly apparent.

Others, though, still took some careful thought...and argument.

"Why should *I* be the one to back down? 'Sweet Helga', 'dear Helga', 'kind Helga'! You mean PUSHOVER Helga! I'm not about to turn away someone so loyal to his friends just because YOU see bravery in him too!"

"Now, Helga, calm down," Godric said placatingly. "Think about what would be best for the boy."

"He's loyal and hard-working! He'd be perfect for my House."

"He's also extremely brave and chivalrous to the bone! He's a Gryffindor!"

"He's a Hufflepuff!"

"Helga, dear, not to side with Godric on these things, but the boy IS quite daring. Perhaps--"

"Oh be quiet, Rowena. You're just being nice to him so he won't argue with you next time!"

"Oh *really*, Helga, you're just being silly. Seamus is very Gryffindor. His mother was a Gryffindor. Godric wants him. Don't be difficult. He let you have that nice Muggle-born boy."

"Justin was completely unsuited to Gryffindor! Godric didn't LET me have him!"

"Helga..."

"FINE! *Take* him, then. I hope he loses twenty points a DAY for you!"

"Gracious in victory and defeat, my lady."

"I'd stick my tongue out if I had one."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"I'm claiming the next one you want, you know, Godric," Helga promised darkly as the Hat was placed on the next head.

"You're supposed to be the cheerful one, Helga," he chided gently. "Let's have a look at this one now."

"I'm sick of being cheerful." Helga's mutterings trailed off as she looked into the newest student's head. "Hmm...well, *she's* certainly no stranger to hard work, is she? I like her already."

"She *memorized* her *textbooks*!" Rowena was nearly swooning in rapture. Well, she'd be swooning if she still had a body. "Just LOOK at that thirst for knowledge. She's *perfect*."

Salazar poked around a bit himself, musing aloud, "She's certainly one for ambition. Such a drive to be the best! A little too rules-bound, but she could overcome that with the proper stimulus...Oh." He sounded suddenly disappointed. "Muggle-born."

"You lose out on the best ones that way, Salazar."

"No lectures please, Godric."

"Who's lecturing? I want her in Gryffindor. One less arguer is fine by me."

"And there he goes again," Helga muttered. "I swear, he waits until he knows WE want them to speak up!"

"That's not my only reason!"

"So you admit it's A reason?" Rowena spoke up sharply.

"...Well, after a thousand years, you need to take your fun where you can..."

"GODRIC!" two female voices shrieked in unison.

"Sorry! Look, all that aside, this Hermione is perfect Gryffindor material. If she goes into Ravenclaw, she's NEVER take her nose out of a book. It's a waste of all her other talents!"

"Oh, so she should go into Gryffindor so she can learn how to charge blindly into danger?"

"Taking a few risks is a GOOD thing!"

"Might I suggest," Salazar put in smoothly after the others argued for a while, "you see if the girl has any opinions on the matter? Not that I expect her to know anything useful, coming from Muggles, but--"

"An excellent idea!" Rowena bubbled immediately. "One so fond of learning will CERTAINLY choose Ravenclaw."

"She knows the value of hard work," Helga said confidently. "She'll be *thrilled* to be a Hufflepuff."

"She has a stubborn streak," Godric predicted. "There are more important things than books and cleverness."

\\I hope I'm in Gryffindor; it sounds by far the best...I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad...//

"NOT TOO BAD?!" Rowena shrieked. "You little INGRATE!"

"At least she MENTIONED your House," Helga huffed. "What's wrong with hard work? Honestly, it may not be the most glorious, but..."

"Told you," Godric said smugly, as the Hat shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Rowena was still pouting by the time the Hat came to rest on the head of Neville Longbottom. Occasional mutters of, "Well I never!", "Use MY House as a second choice, will you?", and "Research and planning, that's the key!" came from her corner of the Hat, but the other Founders politely ignored her.

"Right, then. I don't think there's much question about this one," Godric said briskly, looking into the mind with satisfaction. "He's one of mine."

"A bit less confident than your usual," Salazar drawled, poking around a bit. "Isn't foolhardy confidence one of your traits?"

"You're just bitter, Salazar. Look at that family. His grandmother scares ME! But he faces them." Godric's voice rang with pride. "All set, then."

"...Not quite," Salazar said slowly, his voice full of disbelief. "Is he *arguing* with us?"

\\I don't deserve to be a Gryffindor. I should just be a Hufflepuff!//

"Helga, you can't kill me. I'm just a disembodied mind," Godric said swiftly. "It's not my fault, honestly!"

"WHY is it," Helga asked in a low and deadly voice, "that everyone seems to have gotten the idea that MY House -- my loyal, hard-working students -- is full of 'duffers', I believe that one boy put it? HONESTLY! Oh, be quiet and stop arguing, boy. You *clearly* don't deserve to be in MY House."

"He's arguing with the Sorting Hat. The Hat that was created by the Founders themselves." Salazar sounded incredibly amused. "Oh yes, he definitely belongs in Godric's house of idio--er, bravery." A mostly-stifled snicker. "Absolutely."

"Oh shut up, snake boy."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"...Dear, you might want to take the Hat OFF now," Rowena suggested gently. "Honestly. This is why he clearly isn't a Ravenclaw."

Helga quickly claimed the next student as her own. Godric had known her long enough not to even bother pointing out young Morag's chivalrous nature. Though they were disembodied now, it was easy to picture the fiercely stubborn expression on her face. Helga was sweet-tempered and kind...but like a badger, she was fierce if you riled her in her den.

Luckily they didn't come across any terribly questionable students for a bit after Longbottom, giving Helga a chance to repair her injured pride. Salazar was humming slightly, though the sound eerily came across as a sort of hiss. He was still pleased about the Malfoy boy, whose cunning and ambition were so clear that Salazar had simply shouted, "MINE!" and the Hat bellowed its answer before any of the others could protest.

(Not that any of them really wanted to.)

The Hat was currently perched on curly blonde hair as young Teagan Nott earnestly awaited her Sorting. "Hmmm..." Godric mused, poking through her mind. "I like this one. She's fearless."

"A good mind, but no focus," Rowena dismissed.

Helga poked around next and made a generally approving noise. "Well...she could stand to apply herself a bit more, but she is still young, after all. Very commendable family loyalty. She'd do well in my House."

"But she'd do *better* in mine," Salazar put in firmly. "Look at that -- a budding artist, and she wants to be the very best in the wizarding world. She needs my House to nurture that ambition."

"She'll be a timid follower there! She needs a chance to try out her nerve or she'll never know it's there!"

"Your lions will tear her to shreds, and not do a THING to encourage her talents. She needs to be *guided*, not thrown in the river to see if she can swim!"

"She has ambition *and* bravery," Helga put in, ever the peacemaker. (Well, at least once her ruffled feathers were smoothed.) "But which will do *her* the best to encourage, Godric? I'll let Salazar have her."

"Ach, if you're going to gang up on me...Fine, take her."

There was a bit of good-natured bickering between Godric and Rowena over a pair of twin girls, resulting in each taking one of them, then Helga argued hotly with Godric until Salazar and Rowena both had to step in to place Sally-Anne Perks in Hufflepuff. If they'd still had bodies, Salazar would have sat up and crowed when the hat dropped on the next head.

"A *Parselmouth*! I haven't seen one in fifty years! This is wonderful! And here I thought it was going to be just another Sorting." Salazar was dancing a mental jig as he poked around young Harry's mind. "Oh, I like this Potter. I remember his father; he was a real little hellion." He cackled. "What an addition to Slytherin!"

"Weeeeeeeell..." Rowena dragged the word out consideringly. "He has a fine mind. Mmm, he could do well..."

"Rowena!"

"Oh relax, Salazar, I'm just teasing you. He's a far better Slytherin than Ravenclaw."

Helga laughed merrily. "He *does* have a commendable capacity for loyalty, but I agree. He'll do well with your serpents."

"Excellent." Salazar rubbed his figurative hands together.

"Just a moment please, Salazar," Godric interrupted quietly.

"Oh come off it, Godric, Rowena already tried that."

"I'm serious."

Salazar spluttered for several seconds before he could formulate any words. "Godric! You're not seriously protesting my claim on THIS one? He's a *Parselmouth*, for Merlin's sake! What use do you have for him in Gryffindor?"

"The same use I always have for someone so brave and daring! The boy is nothing but a giant nerve. He'll brave *anything*. Look at what he's gone through already! Face it, he belongs in my House."

"I will NOT face something so patently untrue! You're always trying to steal my best students. I won't HAVE it, I tell you!"

"YOU won't have it? Listen, Salazar, you have to accept--"

Suddenly, without any of them prompting it, they became aware of a thin voice chanting resolutely. \\Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Please, anything but Slytherin.//

Godric tried desperately to restrain himself, but wild laughter escaped nonetheless. "I think that answers that, old friend."

"But--he's a PARSELMOUTH!" Salazar wailed, even as the Hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" "Wait, wait, come back, try the thing on again properly. You couldn't possibly have meant--"

But the Hat was already coming to rest on another head, and the other three Founders were quietly snickering at him. "Don't you have anything to add to this one, Salazar?" Godric asked solicitously.

"Oh shut up."

"Really, Salazar, you're taking this awfully persona--"

"'Not Slytherin. *Anything* but Slytherin'," Salazar quoted in a high voice. "Honestly, what did I do to deserve THAT?"

"Do you want that alphabetically, categorically, or chronologically?"

"Be nice, Godric. He's sulking," Rowena advised.

"See if I ever side with YOU again!" Salazar snapped at her. "I am NOT sulking!"

"Good, does that mean I don't have to be nice?"

"FIVE minutes out of this bloody hat, Godric, with or without a wand, and I will make you regret every bloody--"

"BOYS!" Helga snapped. "There ARE children present."

"They can't hear us!" Godric and Salazar roared in chorus.

There was a moment's pause, then all four started laughing. It took a very long time to sort Hephanion Ranyon, and it wasn't because they couldn't agree on a House.

"Are we *done* with this group yet?" Salazar asked irritably a short while later.

Rowena snorted at him. "*Try* to have a little patience, Salazar. This is actually a small class. Remember back in the 1800s when we had that population boom? The Sorting took *hours*!"

"Given that Godric has been cleaning up this Sorting, I'm anxious to have it over and done with so I can start ignoring his gloating as usual."

"Gloat?" Godric protested in a highly offended tone. "*I* do not *gloat*, Salazar. Just because I happen to remind you on a semi-regular basis how fortunate my House has been in recent years does not mean that I'm *gloating*. Honestly. We should've enchanted a dictionary in this bloody Hat too."

"Oh *look*!" Helga exclaimed, trying to distract the others before their shouting could give her a headache. Well, a disembodied-mind-ache. "I can see that hair without eyes! It's another Weasley."

There followed groans, laughs, and a muttered, "How many of them *are* there, anyway?" Helga thought that sounded an awful lot like Rowena's voice.

"Let me guess," Salazar said sarcastically. "Gryffindor."

"So glad you agree, old friend. Since that's settled--"

"HOLD ON! I'm not giving up *another* Weasley without a fight, you--you--*nimrod*." Salazar pronounced that name with great relish. "You *always* take the Weasleys. Barely even give me a chance to *argue* anymore. Those twins would've been perfect in my House! Cunning, sneaky, and so ambitious. Planning a joke shop at age eleven!"

"Yes, but so *brave* as well. You can't have *all* the pranksters, Salazar. Nobility and a sense of humor are NOT mutually exclusive, whatever you may argue."

"You took the twins! You took the little boy who wanted to be Minister of Magic. Fine, I'll give you the dragon tamer -- *that* kind of stupidity can only come from a Gryffindor -- but you can't have them ALL! This one is *very* ambitious."

"His chief ambition right now is a new set of robes, Salazar."

"Look *beyond* that, you prat! He wants to outshine all his brothers. If that's not ambition, I don't know what is."

"If you'd look past your obsession with ambition for one bloody minute, you'd see he's just *reeking* with bravery as well."

"Yes, reeking is *exactly* how I'd describe your--"

"CALM yourselves!" Rowena barked. "For heaven's sake! You'd think you were children yourselves, not grown wizards more than a thousand years old. Honestly. We'll settle this calmly, as we always do."

"You weren't so calm when you were arguing over those Patil twins," Salazar muttered.

"*Ahem*. As I was saying..."

"All his brothers are in Gryffindor," Helga spoke up, having spent her time actually looking at Weasley's mind instead of arguing like the others. "The poor boy will be *crushed* if he's the first in his family sent elsewhere."

"Have a heart, Salazar," Godric said winningly.

"IF you'd pay attention to these children's thoughts all these years, you'd see that I'm completely evil," Salazar snapped. "I *don't* have a heart." He managed a very gusty sigh for someone who no longer possessed lungs. "Fine. But the *next* Weasley that comes along, *I'm* taking."

"Not if he's been trained by the same parents these have," Godric said smugly.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"I think this is the last one," Helga said cheerfully as the Hat came to rest on the head of Zabini, Blaise.

"Already?"

"Salazar, weren't you just complaining that this was taking too *long*?" Rowena snorted.

"I think he was hoping for another pair of Weasley twins," Godric gloated. "Maybe next year."

"And he wonders why I ignore him."

"Oh, I don't wonder at all."

"If you still had a face, Godric, I'd come wipe that cheerful smirk right off of it."

Rowena snickered and looked into Blaise's head. "Hmm....*quite* intelligent...Hrmph. I think he's one of *yours*, Salazar. *No* desire for research or study."

"But very cunning," Salazar pronounced approvingly.

"Also quite loyal to his friends...and willing to work hard for his goals," Helga added.

"Helga..." Salazar's voice was pleading.

She laughed. "Oh, Salazar, you can sound *so* pathetic sometimes! All right, all right. You can have him."

"You were always my favorite, Helga!"

"HEY!" Rowena and Godric protested together.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Don't try to sound insulted, Godric. Honestly, between the Parselmouth and the Weasley, I may not speak to you for the rest of the year!"

"Do you promise?"

The Hat was filled with laughter as McGonagall placed it back on the stool and removed it from the Great Hall. Another year, another Sorting.


Please Review Here.

Posted by rockygirl at 08:32 AM | Comments (1)

Blood ties--Chapters 19-21

Title: Blood Ties--Chapters 19-21
Author: Aurea Chicory
Rating: PG

Summary: The enigmatic Esme has been released from the Bind that held the truth inside of her. Now that Sirius is learning all about her and why she has made killing a particular clan of vampires her life's work, he discovers that the dangers are more abundant than his worst imaginings. Time is short, and the Slider must be stopped!

Art by Aurea
The cover art for chapter 21 is particularly lovely! :D

19fc26cbd5.jpg

Chapter 19

"I killed them all," Esme whispered."The vampires. I switched their blood with Snape's when he put it though the distillery. That's why the puddle followed him, I guess."

"You have Snape's blood?" Sirius asked. He had pulled her out of the wind, halfway into his lap. They sat in the shadow of a chimney. Esme shuddered, goosebumps rising on her bare arms. Her dark clothing made her seem all the more pale and fragile."It's why he was hurt instead of me," she said, voice a bare gasp."I kept it in a container in the bandages around my wrist. You crunched it when we fought in the bathroom. When the ichling fed from me there, it was his blood that it took. That pain was meant for me. Ficus knew I was up and around and intended to put a stop to it. With the Bind gone, he can't hurt me...But he still has my blood."

"You said he's a Slider," Sirius pressed."How does he use magic?"

"As little as possible," she sighed, huddling closer to him and wincing from the pain that caused."He wears gloves so he won't hurt other wizards or damage their items. He needs magical objects since he can't summon power himself. That's what brought him to me. I made him enchanted trinkets and he gave Lorey a job and protected her." Her voice trailed off sadly."What about the ichlings?" Sirius asked her. She shuddered a little."I don't know where he gets them," she whimpered."Someone else must be making them for him. Some of them really hate him. He wasn't always a Slider. Used to be a Potions teacher. Most powerful wizard born to a Muggle family. I remember. . . something about an accident, and him begging the Ministry of Magic to let him intervene. . . Someone in his Muggle family died and he wasn't allowed to help." A shivering attack came over her and she huddled closer to Sirius. He waited for her to go on, and after a moment, she did."I think it was that mess that turned him bad. . . his anger at the Wizarding world for caring more about keeping magic a secret than that some poor Muggles died. When grief turns bitter, a person can't help but change. His hatred soured and turned his own magic against him. Whatever enchantment he touched, withered and died."

Since she seemed so close to doing that as well, Sirius was quick to change the subject."How did you meet Rosie and Tanner?" he asked. After a moment, Esme's weak voice reached his ears again."Rosie's temper got her in trouble," she said."I stepped in and lied through my teeth for her. Saved her irate little life for her which she never forgave me for." She made a gasping cough as if it was getting hard for her to breath. Her voice faltered, but kept going."And Tanner loves her enough to die for her, but she's never even given him a kind word that I've heard."

"If he really loves her that much," Sirius said."He may not need to hear it. It might be enough just to be with her."

"Maybe," Esme admitted. She gave him the teensiest of smiles. When it faded though, there was a long silence."Are you all right?" Sirius asked after a moment."I don't know," she whispered."I feel like I'm being held together with spiderwebs. One wrong move and the silk will snap and I'll be ripped apart."

"Are you cold?" he asked, noticing that her shivering had stopped."I like it," she said."Numb is nice." He rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. He could feel the scars through her t-shirt."Did tigers do this?" he asked. She shuddered, but didn't speak. Silence stretched out again and the wind seemed to chill. Sirius pulled the corner of his robes up over her. Esme still made no sound. He found himself remembering Azkaban. How the screaming would dwindle and the Dementers become more excited as time passed. As long as there was noise and suffering you knew you were alive. It was when the silence grew thick that death came."Say something," he gasped."Esme, talk!" "I hurt," she whimpered."Even fighting the tigers didn't hurt like this. And a tiger is easy after killing a vampire."

"You wouldn't get away with that here," he told her, just to keep her going."There are wizarding laws to protect intelligent creatures."

"At home there's so many no one really cares," Esme said."They are dead to begin with. I just finished the job."

"How many have you killed?" he asked. She had to think about it."Five. . . " she finally said."Well. . . four and a half."

"How do you kill half a vampire?"

"I got his blood and destroyed his body, but Brohm still exists. Part of his awareness was made into the Bind. . . and since Ficus controlled that, it means he has Brohm's spirit contained somewhere until a new form can be made for it."

"That's frightening," said Sirius, giving her back another rub."That's Dark magic," she replied.

************

Chapter 20

Harry and Dumbledore had gone to find Ficus, and found their way barred by the sudden arrival of three officials the Ministry of Magic. One was the woman with the pet rat named Ophelia that Harry had seen before. She stood nodding in stern approval while a wizard in butter-yellow robes did his best to shake an official finger at Dumbledore. The Headmaster didn't seem intimidated as far as Harry could tell."There are reports of battle magic-BATTLE MAGIC! Of ALL things!-being seen for MILES!" the wizard said, giving up on looking disapproving and waving his arms."The whole Ministry has been scrambling to blame it all on swamp gas or vandals with fireworks! And that's not even mentioning the werewolf sightings."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, wondering hopefully if Lupin was on his way as well. Dumbledore turned to him to speak, but was immediately interrupted by the other wizard in the group. This one wore gray robes that blended so well with the mane of gray hair and beard that he seemed a talking face in midair."Of course, no one is blaming you, Albus," he said."Well, thank goodness," Dumbledore said. He appeared unruffled, and turned back to Harry before they could pounce again."I'll excuse you now, Harry,"he said, and Harry nodded and trotted off before any of the officials could make a fuss. Nothing to do but find Ron and Hermione, he mused. Same as always. He was heading up the stairs when something squeaked and sharp little talons dug into his head. Harry yelped and felt small wings beat against his scalp. Gritting his teeth, Harry tried to look upwards without moving his head. Pigwidgeon, Ron's pint-size little owl, looked down at him cheerfully, a note gripped in his tiny beak. Knowing that any movement would just make the talons grip harder, Harry reached up very carefully and Pig hopped onto his hand. He gave his punctured head a rub before taking the letter and Pig flew off with a cheery little whistle. It was a quick note, written by Ron. McGonagall on rampage. All confined to house until Raye is found. Avoid her unless you want to be penned in with us. . . Harry crumpled the note into his pocket and tried to think. A voice down the hall made him hurry on up the stairs. He decided to rejoin Sirius and Esme and went back to the secret passage his godfather had shown him. He remembered to be polite to the painting of Abigail of the Heatherdowns and she opened the trapdoor for him. He had barely put a foot onto the roof when he heard voices. He saw Filch talking to something out of his line of sight, but that someone was casting a Madame Hooch-shaped shadow against the chimney. Filch was complaining about the damage to the shingles and weather vanes from the battle. Hooch was trying to assure him that he wouldn't be doing the repairs himself, and in