I didn't know if it was the hat listening to my warning or Harry not pushing for it, but he went to Gryffindor. That eased my anger, somewhat. He shot me an apologetic look got up from the stool which I smiled back confidently at. Ron followed him to the house of gold and red, and glanced at me as well, more worried and confused than anything else. That, I replied to with a wink, I didn't need either Harry or him to get concerned about me, my own anxiety was enough. Ron raised an eyebrow, and the beginnings of a smirk on his cheek didn't escape my notice before he claimed his place near Harry.

  The Draco brat got into my house too, and he seemed to be a natural attention seeker, diving into excited conversation with many of his older housemates, which was fine by me as I didn't need more time on the front stage. The Sorting concluded and I ate as I ignored the people watching me from the corner of their eyes. Between being a muggleborn in Slytherin, missing an arm as an eleven year old and taking easily more than double the time any other first year had taken on the stoll, I was sticking out like a sore thumb enough already.

  Not that I'd ever been good at socializing or I was eager to cozy up with the blood supremacists of my house, but I was eleven and I wanted friends, damn it.

  I wished I were at Gryffindor too, with Harry and Ron and even Hermione and Neville. The first was a friend and the rest were people I'd talked to, the only ones in this foreign place. At least the former two seemed to be hitting it off.

  Though even without whatever happened with my passenger and the hat that convinced or maybe encouraged it to put me where I was, I'd probably be at Hufflepuff, not Gryffindor. I swallowed down the remaining half of my egg bread and craned my neck to look behind me, at the table of the house where I was meant to be.

  There was a pleasant air around them. Talking, laughing, it looked innocent. A blonde, pig-tailed girl was talking about something passionately with to a boy with curly hair. Hannah and Justin, if I'm remembering their names right. My age.

  I returned to my food, my housemates back in my sight. Was I romanticising something I didn't have? The people on this table were kids too. I caught Vincent looking at me. He looked away.

  Eating with one hand was a struggle, worse yet because contrary to my history, I knew what it was like the other way, having them both. And being right-handed seemed to have persisted to this life, despite never even developing one on that side of my body. Research on the internet had told me I had enough years of experience under my belt now that there shouldn't be a difference, but that didn't feel right. Maybe it was a trick of my mind? Whatever it was, the universe seemed to hate me.

  But I was used to it. I was extra hungry after not eating for the entire day, I ate without holding back, even if the posh kids here thought I didn't have manners. Proper nutrition was one thing I wouldn't drop. It was something that I had to adapt in the Protectorate, living the life of a soldier, fighting, thinking, planning, training and I'd continued on with those acquired habits in this life. My appetite was much larger than it had been back in Earth Bet. I inhaled a large piece of bacon and the guy sitting across me sneered. Fuck him.

  If eating was going to be like this every day at Hogwarts, I could get used to it. It was a feast out of a fairy tale. All kinds of meat, roasted dishes, carbohydrates and more. I wasn't the only one lost in the sauce of the banquet; I could see Crabbe and Goyle hogging all the food like I was from the corner of my eye. Beyond them, poorer kids and muggleborns likely enjoyed it a tad bit more than their prueblood counterparts. Magic was a gigantic resource, and I had no doubt most wizards made sure they and their families ate good, lived nice. They were all upper class in practice.

  All good things came to an end and so did this banquet. The desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore rose from his chair to utter a few more words, alerts about where we were and weren't allowed to go and where we could do magic. Then, Dumbledore said it was time to sing the school song, which I didn't want to do at all. I mumbled under my breath as the student body sang and looked out for the few eccentrics who were either really trying or knowingly distrupting the rest of the singers with their uncoordinated singing. Ginger twins who looked like Ron caught my eye, they were singing slower than anyone else, almost like a funeral hymn. It was like torture. Dumbledore seemed to agree, because he didn't keep us waiting any more. Off we went, following the prefects of our house, walking through the double set doors back into the Entrance Hall where we'd came from, went through a door on the right and down a steep path of stairs. Personally, I found it eerie for student dorms to be in dungeons, but who was I to question the wisdom of Hogwarts administration? It was a long, dark, cold walk, but we reached our destination. A girl with jet black hair spoke to the wall, -serpent- and the wall ripped apart to reveal our common room. Who could have guessed that password? It was a nice place, all cozy, with tasteful furniture and which kid hasn't dreamt of an underwater place to stay at? The lake beyond the glass was way too dark to make out anything, but I bet there was magic for that.

  Before we could be led to our dorms, however, I was called out.

  "A word, Ms. Hebert."

  I turned, like others, and some even jumped in suprise. A man in all black, with a hooked nose and greasy hair was standing in the middle of the room. How had we missed him?

  His eyes passed us one by one, taking the students in. "For those of you who aren't aware, I'm Professor Severus Snape. I'm both your potions professor and the head of the Slytherin house. Welcome to Hogwarts." He had a low voice, powerful in a way that I could tell he expected to be listened with all we had. His gaze settled on me, and I met his full force with mine.

  "Yes, Professor?"

  "Follow me."

  I came after him to the other edge of the room. Calculated, no doubt, to give me the imression of privacy and allowing the other students, especially the few older ones who'd assumed their place on the chairs, the opportunity to eavesdrop. Heck, I had no doubt some would use some magic tricks for that, even. The question was why he wanted the other students to hear our conversation.

  "What is it, Professor?"

  "I won't keep you for long, Ms. Hebert," his eyes were on anywhere but me and he spoke like he was bored of me, which was annoying, "During your time at Hogwarts, you'll come to understand... there are traditions in place. Long, unbroken traditions. Expectations of wizards and witches."

  He stopped to take a look and I scrambled to answer. "I see it, sir." He went on.

  "Houses, above all, are defined by tradition. It's natural that, there will be some amount of confusion when those traditions are... broken."

  "Broken like by a muggleborn in Slytherin, sir?" I cut to the point. "Will you put me in another house?" I allowed myself a sliver of hope.

  He smiled and it was a ugly thing. He didn't affirm or deny my first statement, he simply said: "Ah, Hogwarts doesn't allow students to change houses. Besides, it's nothing that will require a house change, no." He put his hand on my shoulder. "You're a Slytherin and you'll stay one. But, if you ever have a problem, a question in your mind, a trouble before you, I'm formally inviting you to seek me out, Ms. Hebert."

  He retracted his hand from my shoulder, and there was a badge there. I looked at him questioningly. "That's a charmed tool to warn for emergencies. Keep it on. Ms. Blackwood?" he called out.

  A girl with dirty blonde hair appeared at his side. "This is Ms. Blackwood, a prefect."

  "Hi there," she smiled at me. "You can come to me if you need anything.

  It was kind of weird, she was the kids between the two of us. Yet I was the one being treated like a baby.

  "Understood. Thank you sir, thank you Ms. Blackwood."

  Snape nodded. "We are done here." He walked away.

  "Let's get you to bed," Blackwood said. Jesus, was I your junior or was I your daughter?

  I glanced around. The kids sitting around were pretending they hadn't listened. I followed her back to the staircase. Rest of my class had left early. I wondered how much of my talk with Snape they had witnessed. When we arrived to the dorm, she pointed up the stairs. "That's where the seventh years stay. Don't be shy if anything comes up, okay?" With that, she left.

  The dorms also had the glass looking into the lake. It was nice. It looked like Slytherin dorm rooms hosted only two people. My roommate was a girl, no shit, with short, straight brown hair and that was the most I could tell of her appearance while she was busy on her suitcase.

  "Hi," I greeted.

  She craned her neck back, a look of suprise on her face. "Oh, hi." I could see her eyes were wide and her nose was steep, now.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Let's have a good time here on our stay." I didn't know if this girl hated me because of my... race? But I wanted to try my hand at being polite this time around.

  "Let's."

  My suitcase was here, too. I opened it up. My hand reached for my wand.

  S'up. What the FUCK was that?

  For a moment, I thought it was going to ignore me, making me grit my teeth, but I felt a pulse.

  Confident.

  Confident?

  Confident.

  I got my fingers off the wand. I didn't need this bullshit, didn't need to get angry and delay my sleep. I took my pajamas out instead.

  Dressed, teeth brushed, I was ready to go to bed. Something was missing though... "Hey."

  She looked up from her book. "Yeah?"

  "What's your name?"

  She opened her mouth, but shouldn't I have introduced myself first, before asking for her name? "I'm Taylor Hebert, by the way."

  "I remember. You're kind of distinctive. I'm Tracey Davis." She extended her left hand halfway, as if she wasn't sure about it. I took a step towards her and shook it.

  "Nice to meet you. Distinctive how?"

  "To you as well. And isn't it... obvious?"

  I shrugged. "Muggleborn. Dunno what's normal, what isn't around here."

  "Umm." Her eyes darted around, hesitant. "Well, not to be rude."

  "It's okay," I said. "I'm listening."

  "Excuse me then," she said, breathing in. "Not many wizards have," she said, her arms folded, pointing at my arm with her pinky, "defects like that. This will be a lot to digest for you, but, you can actually... get your arm back. Congrats? I wanted to say that since the moment I saw you."

  Huh. She was nice. I sighed. "Already knew that. Tried that. As soon as McGonagall stopped by to invite me to Hogwarts, I grilled her about something, anything that could fix my arm," I moved my stumped arm around as I spoke, "and she took me to St. Mungo's... they tried a lot, but nothing worked," I explained.

  "What the..." she whispered, her brows rising. "Wounds only persist like that if they are inflicted by powerful curses. How did you get it?"

  A monster crushed it and I had to burn it off.

  I couldn't say that, of course. That would give birth to more questions than it answered.

  I shrugged, saying, "Born out of the womb this way," instead. "Super rare according to the doctors."

  "Muggle doctors?"

  "Yep. Is there a problem with that?"

  She raised her hands to her shoulders, catching my meaning. "Just that they wouldn't know anything about curses. On that topic, you sure your mom's a muggle? I've heard of some curses targeting pregnant women, but I wouldn't imagine any wizard or witch utilizing them against a muggle. Because that's highly illegal and because why bother?"

  "McGonagall said something to that effect. She said it would be easier to look into it if I accepted coming to Hogwarts."

  She looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure how much the professors could do about it, but there are people you can seek out, books you can research." She gave me a bittersweet smile. "But curses like that which elude even St. Mungos' medics? I wouldn't expect much, if I were you."

  I walked to look to the window to look into the lake. Was I being pitied? It made me uncomfortable. "Could have told you that."

  Silence descended upon us.

  I caught the shadows of movement. If I had my bugs, I could feel all over the lake with aquatic bugs and crustaceans.

  "I'm a half-blood."

  I turned back to her. She was staring off at the door.

  "Is that so?"

  "I get the feeling that you already understand what being in Slytherin as a muggleborn entails," she continued, "so I won't give you a pep-talk. Just..."

  "Mom or dad?"

  "What?" She raised a brow.

  "Is it your mother who is your muggleborn parent or your father?" I clarified.

  "Oh. My mum. I mean, she isn't even a muggleborn, just a muggle," she said. "No magic whatsoever."

  "How did that happen?"

  That earned me a shrug. "Parents are tight-lipped about that. I just know my dad was a rebel back in the day." She shook her head. "That's besides the point. I... You'll have problems, here in Slytherin. I want you to know that I wont add to them." She closed her eyes. "I don't think like that."

  I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Great to hear." I didn't know what I'd do if I had a roommate who hated my guts cause of my background. "And I won't give you problems either." After a moment of awkwardness, I asked, "So what is having a normal mom like? For a witch?"

  She opened up one eye. "Barely a witch, I mean, that's why I'm here," I snorted and she did too, "but honestly, I grew up mostly muggle. We had some magic in the house, thanks to my dad, but I went to primary school and my favorite class was P.E." A wistful look came over her. "Though math was interesting too. And my dad likes my uncle, they used to take me to football matches."

  "Ugh. Were there a lot of hooligans?"

  "Football's more than hooligans," she said.

  "Sure, maybe. I'd prefer playing to watching."

  "Me too, heck, what do you think I did in P.E?

  "Exercising how to get in line?"

  We chuckled.

  "You aren't like how you seem at all."

  That was out of nowhere. "What do you mean?"

  She cringed. "Just... you seemed really angry back when the hat was on your head. Real angry. Like, murderously."

  "I was pretty pissed at the hat."

  She stared at me. "Why would you be pissed at the hat? Also, a piece of advice. That?" She pointed at my face. "That won't help you in this house."

  "Anger?"

  "No, I mean, maybe that too, but I mean being obvious what you feel and think that much."

  "Not sure what you mean." I wouldn't claim to be some kind of trickster anywhere, but I thought I had a pretty good poker face.

  "You didn't know? Talking to you, it's like watching a cartoon. I can easily tell what you are feeling, it shows up on your face. Yep, mouth half open, one eye squinted, head tilted? You're confused as hell."

  Aisha had implied I hid my emotions and expressions in my swarm. Reacting, moving, expressing through them. It wasn't really specific stuff for specific emotions, but it was the equivalent of letting off steam by flailing your arms around, except ten times more effective. Was that something else that I lost without realizing, coming here? In the abscence of an outlet for what was going on inside, had I grown much more readable? Why hadn't anyone commented on this before?

  Well, I was eleven, most kids were annoyingly expressive, and it had taken me some time to get my memories back. Maybe it was something I developed along that way.

  Tracey was still talking, "Were you in a theater class before coming here? I heard you're thought to exaggerate how you move there."

  "No, but my mom's a professor for English literature. Maybe I picked up a dramatic flair, listening to her about the old dramas."

  "Ah!" Her face lit up. "Did you read-"

  As our conversation went on, I couldn't help but think how good I was feeling. The anxiety that was there since the train had disappeared.

  I didn't know what the hat's problem had been, but fuck it and what it wanted. Fuck what my passenger wants, too. I'd came here to learn magic, have fun, make friends, maybe get rich or something. That was what I wanted. If I was going to do anything, it was going to be because I wanted to do it. I'd deal with anything Slytherin might throw at me, but nothing more.

  Being here, meeting with Snape and Blackwood, striking up conversation with Tracey had cemented my opinion: This system, dividing the students to houses, giving them the culture and background to absorb, pitting them against each other, putting those with harmful ideas together, creating echo chambers? It would encourage or even nurture any problem the wizarding society had, especially racism by the Slytherin students.

  It wasn't something needed. I could see the plan. It needed to be abolished. All students wearing the same colours, in the same team. Protecting the muggleborn kids from the organized targeting of the blood supremacist kids, and socializing the isolated pure-blood kids instead of cooping them up in a house with others who affirmed their shitty beliefs.

  It wasn't more than a thought. I mean, I wasn't necessarily planning to act on it and it would be something for decades later. I wanted to kick back and relax for now.

  I dwelled on the idea maybe a little more because the only enjoyment of that stupid hat, the Sorting, would be gone in that series of events, and I'd personally visit the hat in-

  "Unrelated, but are there museums in wizarding Britain?"

  "There are plenty! Biggest one is probably the Ministry's Museum of Magical Artifacts!"

  -not in that one, something smaller, somewhere it'd collect dust in a box in the corner, not getting anyone to talk to...

  Whatever, enough fantasizing. Priorities were mastering magic and spending time with my friends.

  Anything else was waiting on the queue.