Okay, so if you're one of the older readers of this fic, i.e. before the previous chapter, you should go re-read the fic. I updated some things and changed some things because guess what? No orphanges in the 80's! So, Zoro had to go to a Foster home instead and then I just started editing everything. So go re-read it if you haven't read the whole thing recently.

"Roronoa, Zoro!"

It is a sullen scowling little child with spiky black hair who stomps up to the stool and stares disdainfully at the hat as if he expected it to have fleas. At the Ravenclaw table, two new first years wait with bated breath and in Hufflepuff, a second year holds the bench with white knuckles.

Zoro is permanently placed into foster care, along with seven other children all older than him by years, at the ripe old age of two months. The house mother is always busy with these seven other children, from bad homes and with bad pasts, so baby Zoro never gets the proper amount of attention or care that he rightfully should as a two month old child. That's alright with him though really.

It's after the third complaint from the school when Zoro is five years old that the house mother decides that it's time to do something about his hair. It makes him stand out, and not in an entirely good way. The adults disapprove, the teachers are scandalized and the other children's reactions are mixed. Those who aren't driven away by the bright green colour are attracted to it and intrigued, but are then swiftly chased away by his sour disposition and tendency to complete ignore the world around him. Needless to say, he doesn't have many friends. His fists have made sure that he doesn't have any bullies either though.

Teachers however, are a problem he can't fix with his fists or even a sword if he had one. Which is why next Monday, he arrives to class with pitch-black hair and an even blacker mood.

Zoro really doesn't like this new world. At all. Not because he was an orphan again, not because he had no friends, not because he had to go to school everyday and be forced to learn things, and not even because he wasn't allowed to fight people to sort out all his problems.

No, Zoro disliked this world so intensely because it was damn nigh impossible to get your hands on a sword— a real sword too, not those flimsy plastic and wooden ones.

Of course, being separated from his nakama didn't make it any better.

Sometimes (only sometimes dammit) Zoro really missed his crew. When the 'family' is eating no name vegetable soup, thin and metal tasting, for the fifth time that week, Zoro feels a sudden intense longing for cigarette smoke and good food.

When he's down in bed with a horrible flu, Zoro wishes he could see brown and pink and a tiny bit of blue because he wouldn't have been sick in the first place if he had been here.

And sometimes when he's bored and not lonely, definitely not lonely, he wishes he could hear a bit of music or a fantastical tale or see a cool invention or get harassed to play tag or have his debt raised or... Or maybe just...

But he's not lonely. He's fine.

He's on push-up one hundred and seven (and working suddenly seems so much harder, so much slower in this world) missing the smell of steel and the rock of the boat and the sound of laughter (okay so he misses them a bit) when someone calls his name.

Downstairs, an old lady with a stern expression and a tartan dress waits for him. The house mother says he's won a scholarship, which makes absolutely no sense, but whatever. Later, the strange woman takes him aside and hands him a letter.

Dear Mr. Roronoa,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

The lady then explains magic and wizardry and... well. She tells him the date that she'll pick him up to go shopping with the other 'muggle-borns' and then leaves.

He's not excited, that night when he can't sleep, can't sit still, can't stop smiling. Just restless.

Diagon Alley is, well, magic. He's never seen anything like it, not even with Devil Fruits and Haki and everything else. It's... not bad. Still no swords though.

But really, riding broomsticks?

Stern-witch-lady gives him his wizarding allowance along with the rest of the muggle-borns (he still doesn't know what amuggle is) and tells them to spend it wisely. She takes them through a tour of them shops so they can get their supplies and other requirements. He doesn't buy an animal, (owls, really?) first years aren't allowed broomsticks (not that he would want one) and he doesn't like reading or cooking, so no extra books or potion supplies.

By the time the group heads to the wand shop, Zoro has only bought the barest minimum and McGonall has given him a couple concerned looks. But hey, being constantly indebted to your crewmate makes penny-pinching an ingrained habit.

Receiving his wand takes ages longer than the rest of the group and Ollivander's mood rises with the amount of damage done to his store. Thirty-seven wands later, a whisper runs through his body as he grasps the handle and for a moment Zoro feels the breath of all things once more.

Blackthorn and dragon heartstring, 9 1/2 inches and apparently very unusual ("Strong and loyal, a warrior's wand...") and the shopping is finally done.

And hey, some coins left over for when Nami inevitably starts charging him.

Finding the platform is an actual nightmare (through a wall?!) and he makes it to the train with minutes to spare after circling the whole station three times and garnering quite a bit of suspicion. The whole ride is spent snoozing in an empty compartment and glaring menacingly at anyone who tried to enter. He dozes through quite a bit of the boat ride too, and the sorting ceremony after that, tired from his restless night before, too excited to sleep.

He almost doesn't notice it when the tartan lady calls his name, jolting suddenly from his nap.

"Roronoa, Zoro!"

At the Hufflepuff table ("Hardworking indeed!") Zoro raises a brow as a boy further down waves at him enthusiastically, with a wide and toothy, almost familiar grin. Forehead creasing, he tries to focusing on sensing the world. He had always been more adept at using Busoshoku haki to make armour than Kenbunshoku haki to sense the world, and he was unused to doing it in this new body, but...

A breeze rolls through him and Zoro's eyes fly wide as a feeling of familyfriendshipnakamaloveloyalty blows through him. Then he turns his head to stare across the hall as he feels it two more presences. From the Ravenclaw table, two dark heads of hair stare at him intently.

To know nor faith, nor love, nor law, to be Omnipotent but friendless, is to reign.

So I've been saying for the past while that I would make chapters (or at least a chapter) longer. And I think I succeeded with this one. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably.

On the topic of the half a year delay... Uh... I'm sorry? I actually got a job for a little while and then stuff happened and yeah. Whoops.

I probably made Zoro way too tsundere and totally out of character. Another whoops.