5 Chapter 5: The eagle whose vision is prosperity.

"Interesting, very interesting." The hat's deep voice resounded in my head, it felt like it came from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"So, our world is a but a fairy tale in your own, previous reality? This will make sorting you a bit trickier." Mumbled the hat inside my mind, which was becoming increasingly disconcerting.

'Wait, that's it? You learn that your reality is a work of fiction, and it's my admittedly messed up personality that bothers you?' I thought, it was somewhat reassuring that he didn't make a big deal out of it, less chances that he'll spew everything to the staff.

"Boy, I am talking hat. I was created by four extraordinary wizards who founded a school called Hogwarts to sort children into houses that will determine their entire future based on their eleven years old self. How is it any less surprising than my world being replicated as a fiction by a muggle?" Explained the hat "I am the sorting hat, I sort students. Nothing more, nothing less. I am no advisor for the school's headmaster, nor am I an overelaborate tool to spy on children. Why would I care for anything but your personality, potential and values?"

This…actually makes sense. Ghosts and soul sucking monsters are no less mind-numbing than reincarnation.

"Now, where should I sort you?" Asked the thinking cap, "You have plenty of cunning, and more than a little ambition...I see you've already surrounded yourself with heirs and relatives of politicians, ingratiating yourself with those in power is key to obtaining the later. You could do great things in Slytherin, very great things."

'I'd rather not. Associating with the right people is one thing, spending years with future death eaters is another. Besides that, joining Slytherin is a sure way to become a pariah among other houses and getting in the radar of troublesome people. I'd go mad with paranoia, the risk of someone cursing me in my sleep is very real.' I denied him quickly.

Slytherin is the house of social suicide. No matter how cool it might seem to an objective reader, living in the snakepit is not something I'd look forward to…especially not as a muggleborn.

"Oh, then perhaps you'll find your place in Hufflepuff. Where you'll find loyal companions, and build the reputation of a virtuous young man, this should put most people at ease." Said the talking hat, who I was sure already knew where he should put me. "Hufflepuff would allow you safety and friendships, and a place to open your heart..."

'Nope, not for me. Hufflepuff might be nice and safe, but as I said earlier, it lacks any real substance. Gryffindor is for the brave, Slytherin for the cunning, Ravenclaw for the wise and Hufflepuff is for the rest.' I refused.

Hufflepuffs were nice, but that's it. They were the fodder, the no names, those whose lives and deaths were meaningless beyond giving someone else character growth.

"You certainly have some nerves, and the bravery to face death without fear. What do you think of Gryffindor? You could do a lot of good in the house of Godric, guide the Potter boy, train him to face the trials ahead." Said the old chapeau, without really meaning it.

'This sounds like a very bad story.' I joked 'Making Professor McGonagall happy is just about the only good thing about joining Gryffindor, not worth the trouble. Just put me in Ravenclaw already, we've been at it for a while.'

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the sentient headwear.

Putting the sorting hat on the stool, I made my way to the Ravenclaw table, whose students were clapping happily at their first student. On the high table, professor Flitwick's diminutive form was cheering loudly for his new eagle, while professor McGonagall spared me an unreadable look followed by an approving nod before calling the next student.

"Bones, Susan." I shot my newly made acquaintance a reassuring look and my most brilliant smile when I saw her looking at me as she made her way to the sorting hat, making the pudgy girl blush was becoming a rather satisfying pass time.

What? Am a cute little boy, I don't see why I shouldn't take advantage of it. When life gives you lemons…

"HUFFLEPUFF!" exclaimed the sapient coif.

So my presence wasn't enough to change that, that's good.

"Boot, Terry" called my favourite animagus who's not in jail.

"RAVENCLAW!" The headgear soon exclaimed.

As my new housemate made his way to our table, I cheered for him before shouting him a sly smile, which her returned in kind.

"Guess we were both right." I said, giving him a nudge. The two of us chuckled at our inside joke, it's good to have inside jokes…

"Yep, but what were the odds that the four peoples in our boat would be the first four to be sorted?" asked Terry.

I hadn't realized that, it was either bad writing or a carefully made decision based on the original sorting order and other factors on destiny's part.

"Very slim." I answered drily, making the boy rolls his eyes.

"How long we'll we wait before they serve dinner, I'm famished." Complained my comrade, as the next student was sorted in Slytherin. I couldn't blame him, it was a long trip and we were all very hungry.

There were around forty students on our year, most of them took less than half a minute to be sorted. Quick sorting like Hannah and Draco's largely compensated the overwhelmingly less numerous hatstalls like me and Potter.

As such, I estimated that the sorting would take about twelve hundred seconds, if we add a margin of error…

"A little less than half an hour." I answered my friend who groaned.

"It's half an hour too late." He whimpered, earning a chuckle from me.

"Don't you want to see where Harry Potter will be sorted?" I asked him, knowing his enthusiasm at the prospect of sharing a house with the boy-who-lived would carry him through the long ceremony.

And it did.

"Potter, Harry." Called Professor McGonagall.

The whole room went silent, as every second person looked at the small, scrawny boy with glasses and an Sowilo-shaped scare who walked up nervously.

Soon, the hall soon broke into whispers as everyone spouted their favorite theories on the Boy-Who-Lived. The child in question put on the hat, and quickly looked like he got a pretty nasty constipation.

"He…doesn't look like what I imagined." Mumbled Terry, who was left rather perplex looking at the kid who was floating in his robes.

To say he didn't look like much would be an understatement, he was weak and frail and unsure and whole lot of things unbecoming of a national hero. What he did look like though was an unfortunate fellow orphan who didn't have a helpful but strict grandfather to take care of him. Instead what he got was a horse-faced woman, her walrus of a husband and their unholy offspring.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Shouted the hat, I ran out of synonyms.

The house in question broke in cheers, all happy to have gotten the boy who lived. Who was more than happy to have escaped Slytherin, he made his way into the table shaking hands with the red-headed prefect and receiving a great many pats on his back.

'He'll be okay.' I thought, pushing back pity or intention to intervene. He had Dumbledore and plot armour on his side, he'll work it out.

"Dang it." Complained Terry, distraught that we didn't get the boy-who-lived.

Soon, Blaise Zabini, whose mother was legendary, was sorted in Slytherin. And the feast was about to start, all that was left were the Headmaster's words.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak" Said Dumbledore, "Tuck in!" The students cheered as more food than I've ever seen appeared before us.

There were steaks, pork chops, lambs chops, sausages, roast beef and roast chicken, boiled and roasted potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and all kind of fancy food. I felt my mouth watering, ignoring whatever non-sense Terry was telling about Dumbledore's apparent insanity, I selected the best dishes out of the lot and dug in.

It was magnificent.

After we finished the main course, the golden plates were cleaned instantly, their content was soon replaced with more desserts than I could count. Not that I'd bother, as I savored some chocolate ice cream.

"What?" I asked Terry who was eyeing me strangely.

"How can you eat so fast without dirtying yourself? You must've eaten as much as the weasley boy." He sounded genuinely curious, the little bastard.

"Do not compare me to that barbarian." I said, looking at the boy who was assaulting some pudding. That's not eating, that's an act vile enough to make dark wizards see reason.

"He's lacking intelligence, while I'm actively elegant." I did not forsake my manners, no matter how hungry I was. And…oh boy, Ron is violating the vanilla ice cream.

"Now eat some of this pudding, hunger is the enemy." I chuckled to myself, before focusing back on more pressing matter.

This chocolate ice cream won't finish itself.

What better way to round off a great evening than with musical chaos? As the rest of the teachers maintained 'fixed' smiles, Professor Dumbledore conducted the school in a rousing anthem, with everyone singing their tune of choice.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The old man had already given his warnings about the forbidden forest, messing with Filch and…the third floor corridor. Telling a bunch of students not to go somewhere because it's dangerous without specifying the danger, hoping that it would be enough incentive for your Boy-Who-Lived to be curious and check it; which would ultimately lead to a near death experience and running through a gauntlet specifically made to give him some damn confidence and trap Voldemort….Well, it's an idea. Not the most reasonable, responsible or efficient one, but an idea nonetheless.

" I'm Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect. Now that you are all fed and watered, I will be guiding you to our dorms where Professor Flitwick will meet us." Said a rather cute sixth year with long, curly blond hair.

I remembered that she's currently dating the weasley prefect and will do so for a few years, she also got petrified by the Basilisk with Granger through the whole Heir of Slytherin fiasco. Beyond that, she was a brilliant if inconsequential young witch without much to offer in the ways of advantages.

Following her through the school's confusing corridor illustrated the difficulty of navigating through the castle, something I would have to correct sooner or later. She was helpful enough to provide us with some information about the castle, our classes and other much needed intelligence.

"But why would a poltergeist be allowed in a school full of children?" I asked her, as she warned us of Peeves potentially deadly antics.

"The headmaster is rather eccentric, so he decided not to interfere on unloving business so long as he can be controlled by the ghost council." Sighed Penelope "We tried to get rid of him before, but poltergeists are surprisingly hard to eliminate. These attempts only caused more damage, Peeves always managed to not only survive, but also spread as much mayhem as possible with each attempt on his un-life."

We soon arrived to our destination; the Ravenclaw Tower.

Climbing up the spiraling staircase, Terry looked like he was about to puke, which made me put some distance between the two of us. I liked my new friend, but not enough to let him vomit on me. Fortunately, his stomach did not fail him as we came face to face with a large gate devoid of any door knob. Instead, a large bronze knocker in the shape of a masterfully crafted eagle stood proud.

As soon as one of us, a boy called Goldberg or something, spoke up to question Penelope, the bronze eagle spoke up to the surprise of the new students who almost fell down the stairs in shock.

"I have a head and a tail that will never meet, having too much of me is always a treat. What am I?" Questioned the eagle.

"A coin." I answered after a second, the alternatives was either Time or a magical beast unknown to me.

"Well reasoned." Spoke the knocker, and the large doors were opened.

"Good job." Smiled Clearwater, she fortunately had the sense not to pinch my cheeks. I did not forget madam Malkin's transgression, nor McGonagall's mockery.

"Don't you ever get surprised?" whispered Terry, mock complaining after he almost fell down the stairs.

'If only you knew.' I thought, repressing a chuckle. Reincarnation in a fictional world coupled with some sweet foreknowledge made it rather hard to baffle me because of notions as uncertain as possibility.

" What are you talking about? That girl in the train gave me a good scare." I joked, refraining from mentioning heart-attacks as I don't know if they're a thing in the wizarding world.

As we got inside, we were treated to our first sight of the Ravenclaw common room. A place where we would dwell for years, and have some of our most memorable experiences inside.

Graceful arched windows gave us a fine view of the castle under the starry sky, The walls were hung with blue and bronze silks. The domed ceiling was painted with the night sky, which was echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. Tables, couches, chairs, and bookcases covered the expanse of the floor, and a magnificent white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw sat next to the door that led to the dormitories above

Standing before the founder's statue was the diminutive Fillius Flitwick; half-goblin charm master, former dueling champion and current head of their house. His usually jovial face was solemn as he admired the statue of Rowena, perhaps seeing something we could not.

He was a short wizard, a setback of his goblin lineage that helped him greatly during his dueling career. Clad in Ravenclaw-blue robes and trousers, he also wore an elegant bronze waistcoat and simple black dress shoes; it was much more fashionable than the medieval clothes many wizards used.

He eventually turned around, his serious face retrieving an agreeable smile as he addressed the first years. His eyes swept over each of us, no doubt memorizing the members of his house.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw; The house of the wise, where the clever will soar through the sky." Declared the Former Champion.

I rather liked it, soar through the sky. There was something undeniably appealing to that idea, which takes root in a want I've had from the day I understood that the world had no love for us.

"Lady Rowena favored the most noble virtues of intelligence, wisdom and logic. Something most wizards tend to forsake, finding little need for scholarly pursuits as they revel in blissful ignorance." Flitwick tone started light and reverent, but progressively gained in contempt and virulence.

"This is the exact thing that allows crises to strike us unprepared, bigots to gain in power and lead many a wizard to their doom." His voice was mournful, he has been a teacher for many years and has without doubt met and taught many wizards whose end came early.

"Yet here, you stand in the house of the clever, the haven of knowledge." He perked up slightly. "In the lot of Ravenclaw, where all wizards, regardless of their blood, name or wealth, can be the eagle whose vision is prosperity!"

'The eagle whose vision is prosperity…' I thought, feeling a smile stretch across my face, it was it. The elegant formulation of a lifetime of longing; wants, needs and dreams made into words satisfying both my mind and hearth.

The extent of my ambition; to be the eagle who fly freely across the skies, The eagle whose vision is prosperity.

Free from the burden of poverty, free form the burden of a dying body, free from the failures of those I needed. I couldn't do anything then, but now… I was not that person anymore, I was more than I ever did, and I wanted more than I ever did.

' I'll have more than a house with big windows and large gardens…' I thought, from that moment I realized that the hat did not sort me because of my demand, but because it was where I should be. It was my house.

I am a Ravenclaw.

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Hey guys, it's Uncle Sheo!

Magnus was finally sorted! i sure took my sweet time, didn't it?

How was the chapter? Any way i can make it better? Advice is always welcome. This is the last reserve chapter by the way, all future chapters will hopefully benefit from your reviews, comments and other most welcome participation.

Be sure to tell me anything you'd like to see, what you liked my story, or point out my mistakes.

Peace and Cheese.