• Published 1st Nov 2019
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Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student - Georg



Sweetie Belle is about to go on the educational experience of her lifetime at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. In exchange, Theodore Nott is going to have a Seventh Year beyond any of his expectations. In Equestria.

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13. Somepony to Watch Over Me

Sweetie Belle - Hogwarts Exchange Student
Somepony To Watch Over Me


The school felt eager. It was the only word McGonnagal could think of while standing in the basement boat dock, waiting on the First Years to be ferried across the moonlit lake in the magic boats. She took comfort in the distant furry bulk of Hagrid watching over them, much like a mother goose looking over her little goslings out for a swim, and tried to consider how the school considered the students.

True, they were uncontrollable little brats who never changed, scribbling on walls and sticking gum under desks, but only when watched carefully. Turn your back on some towheaded boy with buck teeth and a habit of scratching his nose, and when you saw a handsome lad on the pages of the Daily Prophet in the company of a moving pictures star, it took a while to recognize either of them. So how would a school that did not change for a thousand years view the granddaughter of some mischievous scamp who flooded its basement bathroom, or managed to knock a section of roof off with a mis-aimed broom?

“There you are, Headmistress.”

Then again, there were students like Percy Weasley who never were caught misbehaving in their entire life, during or after school. This evening, he looked every bit the prim and proper teacher or Ministry bureaucrat coming down the stairs, right up to his new pointed hat and Hogwarts instructor robes.

“Good evening, Professor Weasley. Or I suppose since you are not teaching a class this year, we might want to come up with a different title. Associate Head of House seems like such a mouthful.” The red-headed boy… or as Minerva needed to think of him, young man, who was walking down the stairway while adjusting his pointed hat just seemed so different than the spindly little child who walked up those stairs a few decades ago, and who practically vanished into the Sorting Hat when it was dropped on his head.

“Thank you, Headmistress.” Percy placed a stack of orange towels to one side and straightened up. “You know, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the Hogwarts students could use a booster course in Ministry procedures, forms, and policy. I could set up a session during the open period for each of the Years, which should help the students keep from running afoul of the law by accident while out of school.”

“If you take away from their free periods, they may use your lessons to figure out which rules to break for maximum effect,” said McGonnagal. She gave the young man a pat on the arm. “You know, I’m going to miss your brothers so much in the coming years, particularly Fred. I railed against each of them in turn through the years, but I always harbored a secret dread that Fred would become a barrister and wind up practicing wizard law in the Wizengamot. It would stir those old fossils around like a whirlwind.”

Percy smiled at the idea, an expression which looked good on him. “A frightening thought indeed, Headmistress. And speaking of things being stirred around—”

“Just a moment, Percy.” McGonnagal squinted out at the lake. “One of the boats has flipped over. I didn’t think they were supposed to be able to do that.”

“I’m willing to bet our new exchange student was on board. Professor Trelawney told me to bring these down, just in case.” Percy took the stack of towels and unfolded one, although McGonnagal continued watching the ongoing debacle out in the moonlit lake.

“And there goes another one,” she said. “Hagrid makes quite a splash, doesn’t he? We’re going to need more towels.”

“Very well, Headmistress. Winky,” added Percy in a voice of familiar command. “Come out, please.”

There was a faint scurrying noise, and a squat creature barely higher than Percy’s waist poked her enormous tomato-like nose around the edge of the stairwell banister. “Does the master want Winky?” she slurred, sounding more than a little drunk. “Winky has been a good house-elf, hasn’t she?”

“I really don’t know,” said Percy. “I’ve only been here a few minutes, since I got the older students situated on their carriages and came on ahead to—”

Yes, Winky has been a good house-elf,” said McGonnagal forcefully. “Now go get more towels. Immediately!” Only once the elf had vanished in a sharp pop, did she turn to her newest Head of House. “Professor Weasley, you must be very cautious about what you tell Winky. She hasn’t been quite right since poor Mister Crouch sacked her, and then the battle against Voldemort really disturbed all of the house elves. One suggestion that she has not been serving Hogwarts as she should, and God only knows how she’ll react. We’ll talk about this later during the staff meeting,” she added as the boats drew nearer.

“That’s what I came down here for originally, Headmistress. The Defense Against the Dark Arts and the new Muggle Studies professor arrived with me.” The young man checked the parchment he was carrying even though he should have known their names. “Professor Donavan and his wife. I was just wondering when you hired…”

“Not every decision in Hogwarts is for you to know,” said Minerva, trying not to wince at the number of flipped boats out in the lake, which only grew more numerous as the giant squid began to pluck struggling students out of the water and dump them back into empty boats. Panic seemed to be a great motivator, but it could not make inexperienced students walk on water, no matter how they tried. “The couple is just recently back from a long stay in Ghana, so I thought they would expand the students’ experience,” she continued over the screaming of the students in the lake. “You know, I’m starting to think we really should tell the incoming students about the giant squid before they arrive.”

“What fun would that be?” asked Percy, shrugging his shoulders. “Oh, and a dark lady with the most astonishing eyes upstairs gave me this parcel as well, and directed that I give it to you at once. Said she was a teacher here quite some time ago, and to see it placed into Sweetie Belle’s dormitory of whatever house she is Sorted into. I checked it for jinxes and curses,” he added when Minerva got out her wand.

“It never hurts to be thorough.” Minerva ran through a quick series of spells while keeping an eye on the First Years out in the lake, then opened the paper wrapping. The Portrait Charm on the painting inside was completed just as well as any professional could have done, with some flairs that she could recognize from the eldest Nott boy. Since it did not look like the First Years were going to reach the boathouse anytime soon, she peeled back the rest of the wrapping and looked at the contents.

The contents looked back.

“Good heavens!” Minerva tried to compose herself while the dark star-horse on the painting looked embarrassed at startling her, even going so far as to bring one wing of moving starstuff forward across her face as if to hide. One did not manage to stay a professor at Hogwarts for decades without having a flexible and swift mind, and Minerva did have the advantage of sitting down with Sweetie Belle for several hours discussion earlier, so a number of odd-sized blocks fell into place. One block in particular was sun-sized, and related to a woman of extraordinary stature and pale beauty named Celestia, so the other dark block was…

“Did Luna give you anything else, Percy?”

“Oh, yes. A letter in fact. Just a moment.” Percival stopped watching the ongoing wet disaster out in the lake and dug about in his pockets before retrieving a dark envelope with a silver quarter-moon embossed on it. “Here you go, Headmistress.”

The contents felt quite thick, leading her to believe it was well-worth reviewing before letting the other Heads of Houses read them, so Minerva slipped the letter into a pocket for later. She was more occupied watching the lake fiasco as students attempting to keep from flipping boats merely managed to flip more of them.

“Do remember that many of those students will be yours, Mister Weasley,” cautioned Minerva when Percy began to chuckle under his breath. That sobered up the young man quickly, even moreso when she patted him on the shoulder and turned for the stairs.

“Professor,” started Percy before backtracking. “I mean Headmistress. Aren’t you going to stay and escort the students upstairs to the Great Hall?”

“They are in quite capable hands, Professor Weasley.” Minerva began striding up the stairs with renewed vigor. “Just do be careful of the boat ramp when bringing the students in. It’s quite slippery when wet.”

He really should have been listening instead of watching Hagrid fall out of a boat again.

* * *

Swimming as a human was easier than swimming as a unicorn, and more fun. Of course, she had not intended on swimming this evening, but she had gotten so excited with all of her new friends, and she really didn’t think Wycliffe meant to push her into the lake when she took a deep breath and…

Well, even though her friends thought it was a bad idea, she had started to sing, and landing in the chilly water did stop her, so she really couldn’t be upset. Particularly when she accidentally tipped over the boat with Afred and Claude in it, and then Florence had screamed when she went into the water, which made Hagrid bend over to pick her out of the water… Anyway, it was not her fault. Or Sparrow’s, who had been shouting helpful advice that turned out to be not quite as helpful as it first seemed. Or even the underwater creature with the long tentacles, which seemed to be enjoying the task of picking students out of the water and putting them back into random boats.

Wizard school was so much fun!

“I bet I can jump over to the dock from here,” said Sparrow, who was streaming water out of her tangled hair and grinning like Pinkie Pie.

“I bet I can get there first!” Sweetie crouched with a squish from her soggy trainers, which she intended on taking back to Ponyville and showing off to her friends as one of the greatest things about the human world. “Go!”

“No!” shouted Hagrid as the two of them sprinted to the front of their boat. Sweetie was really getting used to having half as many legs as normal, and made an energetic jump toward the nearby dock where Percival was patiently waiting. Despite the rubber soles of the fantastic shoes, she did not quite get as airborned as she wanted, and Sparrow likewise slipped on her last step and pinwheeled into the lake with an impressive splash. Wycliffe, however…

During the trip here, the small boy had followed along while Sweetie had toured the train, remaining almost silent during all of the introductions and hand-shaking. At first, it had seemed a natural effect of being in Sparrow’s energetic shadow. Then Sweetie had caught the way some of the younger students cringed away when they were introduced, and short glimpses of restrained anger in the eyes of the older ones. It was far too much like Sweetie Belle’s visit to the Crystal Empire, and the feeling that something angry and vengeful was lurking in the shadows. She had tried so hard to get the other students to accept him on the train, but a tragic event like the loss of a family member or sibling could not be fixed with a few hugs, no matter how much she squeezed.

Which was why she had climbed onto another one of the boats after she had been pushed overboard, in the hopes that she could shake the sense of doom and gloom that had begun to drape over their small class of first-year students as they approached the castle. She just had not realized how easily the boats overturned, or how the other students would join in.

All except for Wycliffe, who had remained dry and sitting on the sternest end of their boat.

Or at least until Hagrid’s frantic grab landed the huge human on the very front of the boat, which went abruptly down.

The other end went up.

So did Wycliffe.

All across the lake, students stopped what they were doing—except the ones swimming—and watched the small boy’s ballistic path in the direction of the dock. He almost made it.

Percival should not have been standing that close to the water’s edge, but at least he had a towel.

* * *

The Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry should be a distinguished individual who the students looked up to, always ready to assist with whatever student questions or problems that might arise, from trolls in the dungeons to vampires in the owlery, all the way down to an endless number of young girls who just needed another older witch to listen while they wailed about the unfairness of boys.

There was something about seeing the First Years all splashing around in the lake that brought a degree of youthful mischief back to Minerva McGonagall. No sooner had she slipped into the back of the Great Hall and hung the new Portrait on a conveniently empty spot than she padded back down the stairs on silent cat feet in order to watch. It was justified spying, or so she told herself, because she had never seen Percy Weasely in charge of anything without looking entirely like a humorless pratt.

And when she saw Wycliffe Nott airborne, arms and legs flailing all the way until he hit the water with an impressive splash that doused Percy from head to toe, the dripping Head of House for Gryffindor looked entirely like he was about to be a pratt of inordinate size.

But only for a moment.

In that moment, the young boy that Miranda could not help but see matured, as if he could somehow see himself in the face of the struggling child paddling in his direction, as well as the faces of a thousand years of students. It was a young man who laughed loud enough to be heard across the lake while reaching down to pull Wycliffe out of the water.

“Five points to whatever House you wind up sorted into,” announced a dripping Percy, “for being the first student to make landfall after your—”

There were at least a half-dozen charms for maintaining your footing on slippery terrain, and Miranda could not help but wonder if Percy had intentionally not cast any of them just so he could join the fun by sliding down the boat ramp. There was a double-splash and Percy resurfaced with a laugh.

“Alright, you. Up the ramp and get dried off. And the rest of you out in the lake, stop playing with the squid and let’s get ready for the sorting. There’s a lot to do tonight, and you can go swimming later, once school is properly started. Come on, hustle up there. You too, Hagrid.”

Between the two of them, with Hagrid to hoist students up onto the dock and Percy handing out brightly colored towels, the small class of First Year students was soon gathered together in rough and dripping array. There were still far too few of them for Minerva’s comfort, and far too many nervous looks, as if they expected Lord Voldemort to leap out at them from around the corner.

But they were here. A mere seventeen children from all of Britain, gathered in the same way a thousand years of their ancestors… No, sixteen British children and one unicorn from another dimension, which most certainly had never happened before.

They are exceedingly brave young creatures. Perhaps this year will be more calming than recent years.

* * *

In order to calm her hammering heartbeat, Sweetie Belle was taking solace in the familiar. Threadcount, for one. Tapestries did not usually have too terribly fine threads, because that made them more fragile over time, while thick threads made for a much more difficult media to portray a subject. These threads were a nice compromise, and packed in tight enough to support each other while still maintaining their vibrant hues. From the dusty smell with little musty odor, they were also quite old, although she could not concentrate on a unicorn spell to determine their actual age. Also, and quite thankfully, there were no spiders lurking in the upper reaches of the tapestry, observing her trembling with glittering dark eyes from crevices made by the thick supporting rod or wire hangers.

It was also quite a distance up from the stone staircase, which she tried not to think about.

“Professor, is that a… unicorn?” asked one of the students below. “On top of the tapestry, that is.”

“I didn’t know they could climb,” said another.

“I don’t think she knew about the ghosts,” said Wycliffe.

“Quite a unique circumstance,” said a deeper voice from beneath Sweetie that made her tremble and hang onto her precarious position even harder. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a unicorn at the school before. Mister Weasley—”

“Professor Weasley,” said Percival. “And please come down from there, Sir Nicholas. You will frighten Miss Belle again.”

Sweetie managed to pry open an eye to look down, and saw an extraordinary number of eyes looking up, including the translucent human who had so frightened her in the first place. He was floating, which still frightened her, but more importantly he was dressed far more formally than the rest of the wizards and witches she had seen so far. There was even a neck-ruff in his outfit, which Mayor Mare only wore on the most formal of occasions. Since none of the other students appeared to be worried about his ghostly appearance even in the least, Sweetie could feel her panic begin to subside, being replaced by a terrible sense of embarrassment at being such a scaredy-pony over such an important… whatever it was.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked.

The students looking up gave a collective ‘Daww!’

Percival hesitated, then looked down at the floor and thumped his chest with a clenched fist.

Sir Nicholas politely cringed, much like whenever Rarity saw something made out of plaid cloth.

Sparrow, however, laughed as she launched into a rapid-fire stream of words.

“Uncle Rudah told me all about the ghosts here,” she said. “Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, meet Sweetie Belle. He’s the Gryffindor ghost, and most famous of all the ghosts in Hogwarts, and I’m sure you’ll get along once school starts and you get used to him. Somebody help grab the bottom of this tapestry so Sweetie can slide down. Wycliffe?”

“Oh, do be careful with that!” said the ghost. “It’s older than I am, and has survived—”

The firm tug that Sparrow gave the bottom of the tapestry disrupted Sweetie’s attempt to switch back into human form, and also knocked loose her grip on the tapestry rod. The following rapid scramble of unfamiliar human limbs during the descent left her on the floor unhurt except for her pride.

“Are you okay, Wycliffe?” Sweetie scrambled to her bare feet and looked the small boy over for blood or tree sap. “Thanks for catching me.”

“...” replied Wycliffe, still holding his middle where most of Sweetie had landed.

None of them noticed a chuckling tabby cat vanishing around the corner on her way to the Great Hall.

* * *

According to Hogwarts: A History, the Great Hall was supposed to be… well, great, but Sweetie Belle was starting to wonder. She had been taken to all of the fashionable places in Equestria by her sister, and seen places that could be measured by the ton of gemstones or thousands of sparkles. Hogwarts was a considerable shift from what she was used to admiring.

It was more practical, she supposed, since it appeared designed for defense instead of just to look pretty and glittery like Twilight Sparkle’s castle. Twilight certainly did not have a squid, or a lake to have a squid in, which was probably good because Fluttershy would make it a pet. And there was something about castles where something new always showed up when you went looking, so the upcoming year promised a lot of exploring.

But right now, she was stuck in a small, windowless corridor outside of the unseen-yet Great Hall, listening to Percival Weasley.

“Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” said Percivial. “I know you’re all looking forward to the start-of-term banquet in the Great Hall, but first you will need to be sorted into your Houses. There are four of them, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each of the Houses has produced exemplary witches and wizards over the years, and they have their own special appeal for the students sorted into them. Your House will be like your family while you are at Hogwarts. You will have classes together, sleep in the same dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while misbehaving and rulebreaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points will earn the House Cup, which is a great honor to all of the students. Um, yes?”

Sparrow stopped waving her arm frantically and bounced on her toes. “When do we start learning magic?”

“Tomorrow,” said Percival with a chuckle. “You sound just like—” The tall human stopped for a moment, looked intently at Sparrow, then Sweetie, then down at Wycliffe. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, we would normally divide classes between Houses, but since there are so few of you this year, your entire year will probably be kept together in each class. Your Head of House will be responsible for handing out schedules after the feast… Oh, that’s me, if you happen to be sorted into Gryffindor. Well, the Sorting ceremony will start shortly once all the professors are situated, so we might as well be prepared. Everybody check your robes to see that they’re as straight as possible, make sure you don’t have any pond weeds in your hair, and yes, Mister Nott?”

“Beg pardon, sir.” Wycliffe swallowed. “If you’re a professor too, shouldn’t you be up front with the rest of the staff?”

“Oh.” Percival blinked. “Well, I think… That is… I’ll be right back.”

The door opened and closed so fast that Sweetie could not get a glimpse of the Great Hall beyond, but Sparrow was right behind him and reaching for the doorknob when Wycliffe grabbed onto her arm.

“We’re not supposed to go out until we’re told,” he hissed. “We’ll get into trouble in front of all the other students!”

“Obviously not a Gryffindor,” murmured a fairly well-padded young girl who had slipped up beside Sweetie Belle and put one hand on her arm. “We didn’t get enough time together on the train. I’m Agatha Volant. Presumably, you’ll be sorted into Slytherin, and we’ll be sharing a room.”

“Unless she’s sorted into Hufflepuff,” said a young girl that Sweetie remembered as Lady, due to her delicate features and polite mannerisms. “Really, it’s a little early to be courting favors, Agatha. The Sorting Hat doesn’t make deals. It sorts, that’s all.”

Whatever Agatha was going to snap in response was lost as Percival scurried back into the hallway and straightened his pointed hat. “I can’t be up front with the rest of the professors and escorting you all in at the same time,” he explained rather breathlessly with a brief discouraging glance at Wycliffe. “Now, come along, stay together, and let’s see you Sorted.”

As the vast doors swung open, Sweetie braced herself for the unexpected, although she really should have been more prepared. After all, she had been to so many famous places in Equestria with her friends and Rarity, and even sang in front of an audience that once. She could not help but think of Twilight Sparkle at her school test managing to blow the roof off the testing hall and hatching Spike.

The Great Hall was filled with young humans her age and up, all dressed in the same robes and looking in her direction. Or on a second and more determined look, half-filled, with extra spaces between seats, and one of the four sections that had more green ties than the rest looking nearly abandoned. Of all of the young humans, they looked very much like they needed friends the most, because the students at that table were keeping suspicious eyes on each other rather than looking at the incoming children.

As her classmates walked forward, Wycliffe moved around in the group so he could stand in Sparrow’s taller shadow, and shifted positions with every step. It seemed a rather odd thing for him to do, particularly since it blocked his view of the Slytherin table.

Then she looked up.

It was the most awesome dining room ever, not counting Princess Cadence’s main hall when the sun was in the afternoon sky and everypony had to wear sunglasses to keep their vision. This was a beautiful contrast between gloom and glory, dark shadows and flaming braziers, floating candles far above countering the star-strewn night sky, heavy oak beams stretched out with muscular tree-limbs to hold up arched stone so old she felt as if she were inside a mountain and under the open sky both at once. This was an example of the kinds of magic she could learn at this school, and the room was full of brand-new humans to make friends with. There were a whole bunch of old humans at the front of the room who could teach her all kinds of things! She could feel the song bubbling up inside her, just ready to burst out all across the Great Hall.

Sparrow kept one hand firmly over her mouth, so she restrained her urge.

* * *

‘Patients’ was a word in Sweetie’s vocabulary that had gotten used quite often. ‘Patience’ not so much. Words and notes bubbled up under her skin, itching to be used, but she held herself back even when Sparrow bounced up to the front of the hall on her turn to be Sorted, leaving only three students standing there.

The Sorting Hat was a fascinating magical bit of clothing, which Hogwarts: A History had spent very little time explaining. Neither Starswirl the Bearded or Princess Celestia had mentioned anything about it when Sweetie had met them in Ponyville after her selection for this trip, but the hat was a thousand years old, and Starswirl’s visit to the area was a thousand years ago, so there was always a chance it would remember something about the cantankerous old codger.

Or better, it would say something about him, because the old hat could sing.

Sweetie had been so stunned when the Sorting Hat began to sing that she forgot to join in. All she could do was stand there with her jaw hanging open as a seam on the front of the hat opened up and it began to enthusiastically belt out a confusing song about how proud it was to see more students filling the halls. Admittedly, it was a little flat and not quite singing at the speed it should, but after a thousand years, it was understandable. She even hummed along under both Sparrow and Wycliffe’s hands while the Hat sang about all the students it had seen graduate, and their children returning to uphold generations of their family traditions.

Wycliffe had trembled at that, but his hand remained over her mouth.

Now she found herself holding Wycliffe’s hand while watching Headmistress McGonnagal place the patched hat on Sparrow’s head, or at least tried because the excitement was too much for the tall girl and she kept bouncing on the chair.

“Gryffindor!” proclaimed the hat before it even touched her head. Sparrow gave an excited squeal, jumped forward, tipped over the chair, and pitched face-first into the students at the Hufflepuff table, who thankfully managed to catch her. She gave them all a big hug, then dropped down on an open bench, only to jump back up and scurry over to the Gryffindor table to the laughter of most of the room.

Headmistress McGonnagal appeared to be having a coughing fit, which slowed down the rest of the Sortings enough for Sweetie to take another look around at how things were going so far..

‘Volant, Agatha’ had gone over to the Slytherin table just like she had predicted, while ‘Rose, Hildegarde’ was sorted into Hufflepuff where she was received with a great deal of hand-shaking and smiles. ‘Carnarvon, Evelyn’ was the next girl to leave their shrinking group, and she strode boldly to the chair where Headmaster McGonnagal was holding onto the strange patched hat.

There did not seem to be any order to the students being sorted, but Sweetie was starting to feel a little alone with a teensy fear of being the last one remaining when all the names had been read. She got a good grip on Wycliffe’s cold and sweaty hand, which both reassured her and made her a bit worried for him in her stead. He was far from the most nervous student so far, or at least he was hiding it better than ‘Wyvern, Jill’ who had looked very much as if she were going to throw up into the hat before putting it on. She had taken nearly five minutes of quiet conversation with the hat before it had declared ‘Ravenclaw’ with the smallest amount of reluctance.

“Sweetie Belle,” announced Headmistress McGonnagal, and Sweetie found herself walking forward with a small push from behind by Wycliffe. “Sit down, please,” said McGonnagal once she came nearer. “As you are now,” the old woman added when Sweetie began to take off her hat and shoes. “I don’t think the horn would fit,” she whispered.

There actually was one small patch on the Sorting Hat that could have easily been where a unicorn horn once was, but it had been sewn up since then and Sweetie could understand not wanting to put a hole in such an old garment. She straightened her back as McGonnagal held the hat over her head, then took an involuntary breath when the hat dropped nearly all the way over her head to her chin.

“My word,” came a voice inside her head almost immediately. “Another unicorn here at Hogwarts? Why I haven’t seen your kind here since the old days. Oh, and I see here that you have met the old geezer. How is Starswirl in your world?”

“Just fine, sir.” Sweetie almost put a hand to her head in order to adjust the way it was pressing against her nose, but it was probably supposed to be that way so she left it alone. “He and Princess Celestia talked for days before letting me come here. I think he may visit sometime later when he has time, but he’s very busy at Twilight’s school.”

“The old goat as a teacher,” chuckled the voice to itself. “Now I’ve seen everything. If he does stop by, tell the Headmaster that he needs to talk with me for a while. Catch up on old times and things. Celestia too. Now, let’s get down to business. There’s a whole bunch of hungry students out there and we need to get you Sorted before they can eat.”

“It won’t hurt, will it?” asked Sweetie as a faint feathery touch started to wander around between her ears. “I mean it didn’t look like it hurt for the other students but I’m a unicorn and—”

“Done,” said the hat. “With all the trouble you and your friends got into, it’s obvious that—”

“Wait!” Sweetie swallowed a lump of nervousness. “My friend is next, and I want to be sure you put him in a House where he’ll have lots of friends. His name is Wycliffe Nott, and he only had his father and brother when he was growing up.”

“Ahh, the Notts.” The hat breathed a sigh. “His entire family has been in Slytherin, back until they took the name. They’ll welcome him as one of their own, I’m certain.”

“But will he? I mean his father was a Death Eater and committed horrible crimes. He even k-killed people, some in this school. He’s not going to be accepted by children who are trying to show they aren’t like his father. Everybody in that House will make a specific point out of shunning him in public.”

The hat seemed to be considering things for a moment. “You know, you are a very perceptive young unicorn. Are you certain you don’t want to be in Ravenclaw?”

“Not really,” admitted Sweetie reluctantly. “Princess Twilight was all tied up in her books and spells until she made friends. Now they all travel the country, making new friends and solving problems. I really don’t do well studying, but I love to meet new ponies… I mean people now, just like her.”

“I’ve never put a student in a House where they don’t belong,” said the hat firmly. “Sometimes it has taken a year or two for them to realize it, but I’ve never been wrong. Sorting is a very difficult task, because I can’t just put a student where they’re most comfortable. Frequently, I need to put students into Houses that are the best for them in the long run, not what they are today. Young Mister Nott will be fine. I shall choose… wisely.”

“Promise?” asked Sweetie.

“Always,” said the hat. “And now… Gryffindor!”

She was so overcome with happiness that Sweetie ran straight into the Hufflepuff table, much like Sparrow, and only realized what was going to come next when she looked up and saw Wycliffe standing terribly alone while Headmistress McGonagall called out his name.

“Nott, Wycliffe.”

The small boy looked even smaller as he approached the Headmistress with steps that shortened as he drew near, fumbling as he took his pointed cap off and tucked it into his robe pocket. McGonagall turned him around — perhaps a little abruptly since she was most probably as hungry as Sweetie — then placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

There was a very long silence, broken only by tiny whispers at each table from impatient students.

It was plain that Wycliffe was talking with the hat much like Sweetie because his lips moved, but the discussion went on for a very long time with more than a few students sneaking a peek at their watches. The only two new students who had been Sorted into Slythern were sitting next to each other, whispering to each other while keeping a sharp eye on Wycliffe so they were probably making plans about what was going to happen when he joined their table.

But he did not. Wycliffe remained in the chair, obviously having some sort of growing argument with the hat.

“What’s going on?” whispered Sparrow at Sweetie’s elbow, at a volume that was very appropriate to her nature and gained a stern look from Headmistress McGonagall. She was not the only student to whisper to their colleagues, and once the piercing green eyes flickered away to catch another noisy student, Sweetie Belle whispered back, much quieter.

“The Sorting Hat thought Wycliffe would fit best into the Slytherin House since that was what his whole family went into. I don’t think he likes the idea. I don’t either.”

“Oh,” said Sparrow, much quieter this time. She checked her watch, gave it a shake, then looked back up at the front of the room where Wycliffe was still sitting. “He’s going to be a Hatstall, I’ll bet.”

“What’s a Hatstall?” The other girl who had been Sorted into the Gryffindor house was a slightly puffy human with a short black mane cut almost like Twilight Sparkle, straight across with no accomodation for human flat ears or their lack of a horn. ‘Byng, Kim’ seemed friendly enough, with a ready smile for Sparrow and Sweetie, but that smile faltered every time she glanced at the front of the room where Wycliffe was being Sorted.

“I saw it in Hogwarts: A History when we were flipping through it back at Miss Selkirk’s place,” said Sparrow. “Several of the students over the years took more than five minutes to be Sorted. They tend to become teachers much later,” she added with a frown of deep thought.

Time stretched on. The other new Gryffindor introduced himself as Chuffy and tried to keep Sweetie from worrying too much about what Wycliffe was going through. “My uncle was Hufflepuff. Said all the loony people went Gryffindor and all the mean ones went to Slythern, and I must be crazier than mean, so here I am.”

“Wycliffe isn’t mean,” whispered Sweetie back.

“He won’t even step on a bug,” added Sparrow. “But he does like pineapple on pizza. That’s weird.”

“Shh!” admonished one of the older students. “Something’s happening.”

The ‘something’ in this case was Wycliffe wordlessly sprinting for the back of the room with the Sorting Hat falling behind him.