HA 9f: Languish

HIM AGAIN: Chapter 9: Human Intelligence - Languish

Minerva McGonagall watched as Deputy Headmaster Flitwick set the hat upon the stool and let the song wash over her, resting her eyes on the line of bedraggled, soaked First-Years standing nervously near the High Table. Rolanda nudged her and mouthed a name in her ear. She soon found Eric Weasley, the third child of Bill and Fleur, already bearing his father’s rakish air, but he was busy gawping at the Sorting Hat and so didn’t noticed the small smile she aimed at him.

She was about to finally tune into the Sorting Hat’s song when she became aware of the prickling sensation of sitting under a very intense gaze. Her orbs scanned the line again - and found a boy with long untidy auburn hair and large blue eyes, who was giving her such a penetrating look that she was strongly reminded of Moody’s artificial stare that saw through everything.

Minerva expected the boy to look away once he became aware that his stare was being returned - but he did not. Oddly disconcerted, she smiled in what she hoped was a welcoming manner. Brian Potter, whispered her brain, finally matching a name to a face.

The boy’s lips twitched in return. His eyes were wide, his face pale.

People were clapping; the song had ended. Filius cleared his throat and beamed.

“When I call your name, please sit and put on the hat,” he squeaked. “Ainsley, Robert!”

The First-Years began to be be Sorted, walking off to their respective assorted destinies. Minerva found herself waiting for the moment when ‘Potter, Brian’ would be called - and when it was, watched the boy curiously as he strode up to the stool with an unusually confident manner and placed the hat upon his head.

Albus got a glimpse of the Gryffindor table craning eagerly at him before the hat dropped over his eyes. He waited, with the profound sense of the familiar and known all around him, and with Minerva’s smile dominating a greater part of his brain than the issue of the Sorting.

“Well now-” The smooth voice of the hat cut itself off. Albus felt himself revelling in the shock of something that had always previously been frustratingly omniscient.

“By Merlin! You!” said the hat.

Me, he thought back somewhat smugly.

“Alive! And as… Merlin’s beard, Merlin’s beard! Such a thing has never happened! What? Oh, so you’re enjoying my surprise, hmm? I have a good mind to put you in Slytherin or shout the truth to the whole school, Headmaster Dumbledore!”

I would rather you didn’t. It could make things exceptionally difficult.

“Difficult, eh? Well, I must say I’m finding things very interesting at present. It’s rare for me to rest on a mind as old as yours anyway. The things I’m finding…

Please place me.

“Now, now, Albus. Impatience is a virtue in nobody, least of all you - especially when you’ve been incredibly sluggish in realising certain things. Is this your plan, then? To languish away in another life and never tell anybody the truth? Or do you plan to proclaim your affections the next time you get sent to the Headmistress’s office after a carefully obtained detention? Or do you want me to slip it in her ear some time..?”

Albus felt his knuckles crack as he gripped the stool in shock. The hat knew - but no, of course, it had got it all wrong - his affections? Really-

“I thought you’d come to terms with it,” said the hat disapprovingly. “If you wish to delude yourself, then very well. You haven’t planned a thing - which is very unlike you. Your mind has the hallmarks of a brilliant Slytherin, such cunning and resourcefulness…”

I do not believe I’m deluding myself. And-

“That was a rather circumlocutionary thought.”

-I doubt I would like being a Slytherin for seven years.

“No? Yet no prejudice in this head, only old pain. Wondering what’s the matter with Minerva? I’ll let you work it out on your own, armed with your great wisdom and almost supernatural intelligence… You have a honed mind, a beautifully honed mind. There’s Slytherin cunning, Ravenclaw cleverness, Hufflepuff kindness and Gryffindor bravery all in here, all working in union… Hmm, what a decision…”

Thank you.

“Thank me when you’ve sorted your heart out as well as your head.”

I’ve been sitting here for five minutes. I don’t mean to be rude, but-

“‘Yet accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often. Best say nothing at all, my good man.’ Classic, Albus, simply classic. Such interesting memories you have… I think I concur with my previous decision. That’ll be… GRYFFINDOR!”

Albus took off the hat with a sigh of relief and marched up to Gryffindor table, barely hearing the cheers. He sat down, smiled distractedly at Abigail Lupin, Head Girl, and looked back at the High Table.

Connection sprang between the Headmistress and the boy again, an invisible thread attached their pupils. Brian’s cheeks flushed; Minerva looked away and began talking to Rolanda Hooch. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the Great Hall faded from existence until only Minerva remained.

…Proclaim your affections…

Never; it was impossible.

…Languish away in another life…

He opened his eyes and the brightness of the Great Hall stung them. What other choice did he have?