All Sorted finished

Wesley turned as the name "Ann Madison" was called. A blonde girl with light freckles approached the chair, appearing quite composed, despite the circumstances. Unlike me, he thought with a small grin. He turned back to the table and took a bite of food. He chewed slowly. Based on the girl's behavior so far, he thought she would probably end up in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. She appeared too unexcitable for Hufflepuff, and really didn't have the look of a Slytherin. But, then, you couldn't judge everything by looks.

Wesley's head jerked up from his plate as heard the shout of "Gryffindor!" from the hat. He clapped along with the rest of his table and examined his new housemate. The blonde girl was looking up and down the Gryffindor table, looking rather excited now. Looks like someone's happy to be in Gryffindor, Wesley thought. He thought she looked like a reasonable enough person, but maybe she should have been in Hufflepuff.

Judging too much by first appearances, again, he warned himself with a wry grin. After all, he himself had been nearly quaking in his boots after the sorting, and he usually wasn't a very nervous person. Giving himself a mental shake, Wesley straightened to his full height (as much as it was) and attempted to catch the girl's eye and motion to an empty spot next to him.

A boy with dark hair seemed to be gesturing to an empty seat beside him, his mouth still occupied with food. His eyes were glistening with curiosity - he seemed to be analysing or having analysed her. Taking a quick glance at the plate completely overflowing with food that had materialised before her she got up from her seat and made her way over to the reasonably pale-faced boy whose eyes were still glued to her.

She walked fluidly towards him, her stride not pausing or breaking and took a seat beside him her eyes scanning his face, trying to interpret his reasoning for calling over her out of random - however she was grateful for the opportunity to meet her fellow housemate.

“Hey … I’m Ann Madison” she paused and gave him a light smile as she propped her elbows on the table - resting her palm upon her chin, gazing across at the boy. “Were you - surprised to be sorted into Gryffindor? … Did you expect it I mean?” Her eyes remained steadily watching his green ones. “My father was a Gryffindor but I didn’t expect it, it seemed a likely possibility though.”

In all honesty Ann was just happy to be among those with the same excitement and passion for magic, a bonus that they shared the same core traits, she wondered if this boy has this same inclination to Hogwarts and it’s possibilities as she did.

Wesley swallowed his food as the girl rose. He noted that she approached him without hesitation. No fear of strangers, then. Maybe she does belong in Gryffindor. Although Hufflepuffs tend to be the sociable kind, too. He was not entirely certain why he was obsessing over what house this person - whose name he didn't even know - belonged in; perhaps it was because he himself was not certain if he really belonged in Gryffindor.

He subconsciously scooted over to allow her slightly more room as she settled next to him, introducing herself as Ann Madison. He returned her smile with a polite grin, folding his hands in his lap. "Hello, I'm Wesley Richards."

He tilted his head as she asked him the very sort of question he had just been contemplating. "I...honestly didn't know what to expect; though it was really between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I'm still not quite certain if Gryffindor is where I should be; they say that the Hat is never wrong, though."

Ann's gaze was steady and added to the impression Wesley had already formed of her having a rather firm, unfazed character. It reminded him slightly of his father. Or maybe that was Ann's mention of her own father. "My father was in Ravenclaw. He fits it too, he's quite intelligent," he grinned "I suppose that shows why I'm not there."

"What do you think about being in Gryffindor?" He asked, unable to hide the curious glint in his eyes.

Wesley seemed to have a lot of uncertainty for someone who’s heart should be full of courage and nerve and it puzzled her slightly but when he mentioned the tie between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw it all started to make a lot of sense.

“The hat is never wrong” she reached for a chicken wing that shone with grease “It can further into yourself than you knew even existed” she took a bite, the copious amount of seasoning on the meat was surprisingly not a turn off. “ I wouldn’t question that.”

Her nose crinkled at Wesley’s self deprecating remark “You’re eleven years old having only just stepped foot into a school of witchcraft and wizardry, which turns out fantastic graduates and you’re somehow unintelligent already? - they will make a smart wizard of you yet … if you put in the work that is.”

She had already moved on to a rotund and perfectly crispy potato while thinking over the question that she had been delivered, however she never realised how starving she had been until every inch of the table had been buried by mountains of food. Goblets were filled with all kinds of liquids some that frothed and others that were still and coloured, the main courses large, grand and undeniable delicious. What did she think about being in Gryffindor? (Read my first post for some context on Ann’s father) Her fathers career was practically built upon the values which Gryffindor stood for, almost everything he had accomplished in life was due to staying true to those exact values. Ann couldn’t be prouder to share his house and to, therefore, have the opportunity to become even close to the strength of character that he has after she graduates - “I couldn’t be happier - my father was a Gryffindor so it’s nice knowing we share something like this”

He nodded along with Ann's comment about the hat. It settled him a bit, and he relaxed his posture slightly, allowing himself to slouch a bit. It was, after all, what everybody said; but somehow, it seemed more real when coming out of the mouth of a fellow first year who had just been sorted.

Her nose crinkled at Wesley’s self deprecating remark “You’re eleven years old having only just stepped foot into a school of witchcraft and wizardry, which turns out fantastic graduates and you’re somehow unintelligent already? - they will make a smart wizard of you yet … if you put in the work that is.”

Wesley grinned at her defending of his potential intelligence "I was only joking. After all, everybody is a bit stupid sometimes, and the best thing we can do is laugh at our mistakes," he said with a mock air of importance, quoting his mother. It was something that she said often. He, of course, didn't add that; it would have detracted from the effect.

He smiled slightly with amusement as Ann began to consume large quantities of food quite swiftly, taking the opportunity to fill his own mouth with an unidentifiable meat that he assumed, based off of its oily skin and texture, was fish. Wesley himself was not that hungry, he never was - which was likely due to the fact that he preferred to spend his time amassing knowledge rather than expend large amounts of energy in strenuous physical activities.

Tilting his head, he listened as she explained that Gryffindor gave her a connection to her father. That would be nice, he thought wryly, though not bitterly. "I take it you are close to your father?"

Ann cringed, she had been too quick to boost this Gryffindors self esteem before completely evaluating the situation, at least he took her forward attitude lightly. She saw a small smile emerge from him as she ate, this made her smile a little more as she watched him pick up a dish at random and tuck in.

Then she heard his question.

“Close. Yes. Well, as close as you can be when your father works for the Ministry…”

Ann suddenly became interested in a ghost which was clattering along the Slytherin table, howling and thrusting his sword at random through first year’s plates and howling even louder between bouts of laughter as he watched them scream in a mixture of shock and terror. She began to delve deeper into the dish in front of her, subconsciously Wesley’s wasn’t even there. All she could think about was the Prophet Headline, her fathers blood-stained face and the infamous criminals that lay bound at his feet - this was her legacy, this was who she was representing. (Context in my first post)Each mouthful became more and more engrossing, every bite, chew, swallow. She became stuck in this loop for a considerable amount of time before she regained a consciousness which she appeared to have lost. Ann looked back at Wesley.

Wesley's grin dropped slightly as Ann cringed. Clearly she didn't take kindly to mistakenly thinking that he was serious. Either that or she didn't appreciate that kind of joke. Probably both. He turned to his plate and began consuming more of the mystery fish and pretended that he hadn't noticed her cringe.

His gaze snapped back to her as she began to speak again. Wesley swallowed the last of his fish and assumed an expression of pleasant surprise as she stated that her father worked for the Ministry. "Really? What does he do?" he asked "Mine works there too. He's an Auror - Thomas Richards," he informed her. She appeared not to have heard him, and he followed her gaze towards the Slytherin table where the ghost was torturing the group of first-years.

Despite how stereotypical it may seem, Wesley couldn't help but feel dislike towards Slytherin. The house had caused so much trouble throughout the years, it was ridiculous. A sentiment his father often expressed. His mother too, to some degree. The Ministry had an entire organization dedicated to fighting Dark Wizards, and here Hogwarts was, training those who were most likely to turn bad.

After some time, Ann's gaze turned back to him and he met it, repeating his earlier question and statement.

“My father is an Auror” she laughed a little “they probably know each other, his name is Jack Madison…actually your dad may have worked on a case with him - it must’ve taken more than one man to take down Greer and his men.” She stopped abruptly hoping, hoping that she hadn’t said too much and that Wesley actually knew the kinds of people his father was involved with, if not it would be a terrible shock that he had come so close to a terrorist like Greer as your life is not guaranteed after such an encounter.

She knew this all too well.

Many times her father would come home with blood stained shirts and horrifically wide gashes that were barely held together by the stitches from St Mungo’s, sometimes he wouldn’t even be able to speak from either exhaustion or shock. She was yet to see her father after his latest assignment but from the graphic images in this mornings Prophet she could imagine his state, although she could also see his pride emitting from the photo, he had absolutely made history for the department. If Wesley had to endure anything similar to this her heart ached for him. She looked towards him tenderly, awaiting a response and carefully noting his body language, she certainly didn’t want to force this topic if it made him in any way uncomfortable.

Wesley laughed along with Ann at the coincidence, letting the sound trail off as she abruptly stopped speaking. He opened his mouth to take up the conversation where she had left off, but halted as he glanced at her face. She seemed...worried. He was briefly puzzled, was she not proud of her father's work? She had spoken of him in glowing terms, and seemed to desire a closer relationship with him.

However, when her concerned gaze turned towards him, he felt he understood it at once. The life of an Auror's child is seldom free of strife and paranoia. Because of their father's professions, Ann and Wesley's families were marked people. A prime target for Dark Wizards. He began rubbing the palm of his left hand with the knuckles of his right, pondering what to say next.

He had never worried much for himself, and his father very seldom spoke of his work, so he didn't have much of an opportunity to worry about him; however, he felt that if his mother and sister fell into the hands of Dark Wizards, he would go mad. He couldn't help but grimace slightly with the thought, though he replaced it immediately with a light smile.

"They could have worked together," Wesley began, looking at his plate, with an attempt at a careless tone "but I don't know, my father doesn't often tell us about his work."

He glanced up now, meeting her gaze. "I imagine he is surrounded by danger near constantly," he bit his lip slightly, wondering what to say next, something that struck nearer the issue "but he is trained to deal with that sort of thing, so I don't really worry about him much." That wasn't quite true, but he felt he could explain it better that way.

"And my mother can take care of herself. Though, if Dark Wizards tried to get at my little sister, I think they would find that they have me to go through. And one of us wouldn't come out alive." Halting, he wondered if this would assuage her concern at all.

He grinned suddenly "Though I think he wouldn't have much trouble getting past this," he waved his arm around to emphasize his lack of physical strength, hoping the self-depreciating joke would lighten the mood "but that's why I'm here, of course, to learn spells for that sort of thing."