Prologue

The Hogwarts Express slowly edged out of the station. A fiery redheaded girl, probably about eleven years old, was waving excitedly out the train window to her parents, who smiled at her illuminated expression. Being Scottish, the family had, for generations, learned their magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. The journey to London, England to King's Cross Station just to board a magical train back to Scotland seemed pointless at times, but Apparition made the travel quite simple.

"Now, now, Fergus, stop yer worryin'; our little lass can handle herself on her first year," said a woman who appeared to be the wife of the man called Fergus.

"Just seein' yer eldest daughter grow up so fast! Aren't ye proud o' her, Elinor?" Fergus did indeed have tears in his eyes, but a smile similar to the one of their daughter's lit up his gaze. His hand rested on Elinor's protruding stomach, obviously bearing at least twins, maybe even triplets. They held hands, shared a smile, and Disapparated.

Other families began leaving the station as the train sped away, the children waving final goodbyes to their parents as long as they could see each other. A single burly man with a scraggly auburn beard and Viking helmet merely nodded at a tall, thin, brunette boy who shyly waved from a train window. Hidden by a mustache that blended in gradually with his beard, a smile pricked at the corners of the man's mouth. His boy had always been different. But now, different was special, extraordinary. With pride, he suddenly turned and walked away, his big physique nearly knocking someone over.

"Oh, err, my apologies, miss."

The tall woman had a keen sense of balance and steadied herself, but in the process shrugged off a black hood that revealed frizzy ebony curls and a timeless face; she could've been twenty-five or forty, but she definitely had the wise eyes of a mother.

"No worries, young man, no worries." The burly man walked off, leaving the single woman alone. She seemed to be the only parent not waving a good-bye or expressing a glow of admiration and pride at their child. She merely watched the caboose of the train, as if staring at it long enough would speed it up and carry her child far, far away. "Safe and sound," she muttered, and, unlike the man who'd nearly knocked her over, turned gracefully and slipped tactfully and undetected through the crowd.

She briskly passed another family, who walked away slowly- a mom and a dad on either side of a little girl, probably around six years old, who skipped between them, holding both their hands. They all had the same straight yet wild brown hair, ragged clothing, and tall, lanky figure. "When's he coming back, Mommy?" the girl asked.

"Summer, sweetie."

The little girl pouted. "That's a long time."

The father shared an understanding look with the mother. Technically, children could come home over winter break, but with food being as scarce as it was already, their son had offered to stay at the school, away from his parents and little sister, for a full nine-month stretch. "Just keep her better fed," he'd said right before he left, with a final hug to his parents. "Three mouths are easier than four." The mother nodded to the father, proud of their son, but worried at the same time. Holding brave looks for each other, the family passed through the magic brick wall into the Muggle world, where they belonged.

Meanwhile, the redheaded girl kept her eyes on her parents- it wasn't hard, because her father and her same frizzy red hair that stood out in crowds- but when she lost sight of them, she kept waving at the station pointlessly until it was out of view. She had been standing at a train door's window, because she found it the best view to give good-byes to her family. Picking up her trunk, she searched for an empty compartment.

Nearly every compartment was already filled to maximum capacity.

And, most certainly, there weren't any empty ones available. Oh, well. That gave her an excuse to drop by a semi-empty compartment and make new friends. Someway in front of her, she saw a girl ahead, constantly rolling a bag over long blond hair. It tracked the floor behind her for several feet. The redhead giggled and jogged ahead.

"Oi!" the redhead called. "Ye need a bit o' help with that hair o' yers?" The blond turned around and clutched her locks. "Mighty long, ain't it?"

"Um, yeah, well…" Her big green eyes darted side to side, slightly angled downward, as if counting the freckles sprinkled on her cheeks. "I like it long."

"Cut it if I were ye…" The redhead saw the blond jump and quickly changed the subject. "I'll roll yer bag, find a compartment for us, an' I'll teach ye to braid it. Me mum's always makin' me braid me own to keep it out o' the way, ye know? Not like the braids work on me hair. Merida, by the way. Merida DunBroch. Who are ye?"

Merida began rolling the blond girl's bag, so the blond girl had no choice but to follow. "R-Rapunzel. Rapunzel Gothel." Rapunzel gathered up her hair and trotted after Merida. "Have you been to this school before?"

"Might've as well. Me family's been goin' here for generations! I'm only a first-year, but I know a great somethin' how the school works! I take it yer a first-year too?"

Rapunzel nodded. "My mother is a non-wizard-"

"Witch."

"I'm sorry?"

"Wizards are boys. Ye an' I are witches. So, yer mother would be a 'non-witch'. Are ye Muggle-born or half-blood?"

"I'm... sorry again?"

"Half-blood means one o' yer parents are magic-folk. Pureblood means both sides o' yer family are magic-folk, an' that's what I am. Some folk use the term for superiority, as if blood makes ye any more or less magical." Merida smirked, and Rapunzel picked up that while there must be some pride being pureblood, others were ashamed of their arrogance. But not all could be against non-pureblood, because Merida seemed open-minded to… blood type. "So that's why 'half-blood' means ye got one magic parent an' one non-magic parent, or a Muggle, a non-magic folk. A Muggle-born is rare, an' usually looked down upon, but they often turn out to be some o' the most powerful magic folk."

"Why would a Muggle-born be looked down upon? Who are they?"

"Wizards or witches with Muggle parents. An' ye want to know why they're looked down upon? Arrogant purebloods think their blood is better. Racism, if ye ask me. So, ye say yer mom isn't a witch. So are ye half-blood or Muggle-born?"

"Well, I never met my father; I don't really know, to be honest. But my mother never talked about him, ever, and him being magic would explain why I have-" Rapunzel caught herself from saying something and clutched her hair.

"Ye knew ye were different from childhood."

"Sure."

"I'd say yer half-blood. Clicks better with yer past."

Rapunzel nodded. "When some wizards came this past summer to tell me of my acceptance to the school, they said they traced me by 'descent of magic bloodline'. My mother was quite startled; looked like she was ready to kill."

"People just magically appearin' inside yer house ought to startle ye."

"Especially when… well, I have a protective mother."

"Me parents are strict, too. Well, me mum, anyway…" Merida peeked into the window of a compartment. "Only two in here. Boys."

"Ew."

"It's the first available compartment I've seen in me searchin'. Ye found another one?" And with that, Merida kicked open the door, probably because her hands were full from Rapunzel's and her own bags, but this was probably something she did at home regardless. "Anyone sittin' there, boys?" Merida's head jerked to two empty seats.

The two boys looked somewhat alike- brown hair, tall and lanky physique, and big eyes. The closest one, however, had green eyes and freckles, and looked shy and startled at Merida's entrance, jumping a bit. The one by the window had brown eyes, maybe closer to amber, and a mischievous expression permanently etched into upturned eyebrows and an unnerving smile. "Apparently you two are," the latter said, gesturing to the seats. As Merida put up the two bags in the hold above their heads, Rapunzel slipped across the compartment to take the seat against the window opposite of the boy who'd spoken, absentmindedly pulling her hair while watching Merida. The boy leaned forward and held out his hand, which got Rapunzel's attention. "Jack, by the way." Rapunzel threw her hair down and slowly outstretched her hand. Jack took it, chuckling. "And my friend here- you're not going to believe this- his name is-"

"Jack, stop it!" the boy with the green eyes protested.

"-Is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III."

Merida, who'd been standing on her seat adjusting the bags above her, nearly fell off her seat with laughter. "Yer name is 'Hiccup'?"

"The third," Jack reminded.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "It's traditional-"

"For Vikings to have scary names, yeah, yeah, yeah. Horrendous Haddock would've been good enough!" Jack howled with laughter and Hiccup blushed.

"Ye've had yer joke, Jack." Merida's blue eyes pierced him, though she was clearly exerting great strength to suppress laughter. "Ye can stop now."

"Oh, like you can tell me what to do."

"I'm the crown princess of clan DunBroch, thank-ye very much!" And with that, she sat down in her seat, arms folded.

"Ooh, burn…" Hiccup started. Jack elbowed him, scowling, but grinned when he saw the action caused Rapunzel to giggle. "So…" Hiccup gestured to Rapunzel and Merida. "You two are…"

"Rapunzel."

"Merida."

"Cool. What year are you two in?" Hiccup asked. "Both of us are just starting."

"We're first-years, too!" Rapunzel sat up, excitedly. "But Merida knows what she's doing. Her family's been at this school for generations! I'm only a half-blood, but my mother never knew my father was a wizard. Came as quite a surprise for her."

"For me, my mother was the witch. And Jack here…" At this, Hiccup glanced at Jack, who had opened his mouth and then shut it, "hasn't stopped making 'yo mama' jokes for the entire trip. It was the last thing she told my dad before she died-"

"I'm so sorry!" Rapunzel said, clasping her hands to her mouth. "I don't know what happened to my dad, but to have a parent die…"

"I was a baby when it happened and never met her, so I'm more curious than sad. Since she was dying when she told my father, he thought she was going crazy, because she was dying, after all. Then, eleven years later, these wizards who called themselves the 'Ministry of Magic' show up and recruit me or whatever over the summer."

"That's what happened to me!" Rapunzel smiled.

"And me," said Jack. "But I don't have a trace of magic blood in me. I'm what they called a Muggle-born, born from a non-magical family. So I thought I would be more confused than anyone, but you two apparently don't know any more than I do."

"An' what am I, chopped liver?" Merida's defiant tone was endearing and caused everyone to crack a smile.

"So… tell us about the school!" Rapunzel pleaded.

"Well, when we arrive at dinner for the start-o'-term feast, they round up all the first-years for the Sortin' Hat. It sorts which dormitory or house yer goin' to be stayin' in for yer seven years at Hogwarts!"

"How does it work?" Rapunzel inquired. Hiccup nodded, anxiously, and Jack cocked his head, bored with the information but not wanting to enter the school being the only one who didn't know what the heck was going on.

"Ye put it on, and the hat puts ye in one o' the four houses."

"I'm sorry, the hat decides where you're going to spend the next seven years of your academic life?" Jack interrupted.

"It's magical," Merida explained.

"Right," Jack sighed. "That settles everything."

Detecting the sarcasm, she smirked. "Anyway, the four are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, an' Slytherin." The last house seemed to leave a nasty taste in her mouth.

"You don't like Slytherin," Hiccup picked up.

"I wasn't tryin' to make it obvious," Merida started, but by her airy tone, it was obvious she kind of was. "Slytherin House is burstin' with purebloods, or wizardin' families with no Muggle family. It's no rule, but the founder o' the house didn't take a likin' to half-bloods or Muggle-born wizards. Ye'd have a hard time findin' a half-blood, much less a Muggle-born, in that house."

"What's so bad about being pureblood? You're one," Rapunzel argued.

"There's nothin' wrong with bein' pureblood; there's somethin' wrong with thinkin' it makes ye better than others. That's what Slytherin is."

"So do you have to be put in Slytherin because you're a pureblood?" Jack asked.

"Slytherin would be an honorable house, if it weren't for racist purebloods. I don't want to be hatin' on a house with a mixed history. Its good members outnumber its bad. They're simply less heard o'. Slytherin is a house o' cunnin' leaders. They are very practical, an' know how to protect what they love, an' fight threatenin' forces an' enemies. As enemies, ye bet they're brutal, but as allies, they're great to have on yer side. But I guess it's character more than blood to be put in that house. They're very tactful. I go by impulse an' whim. I think I'm leanin' toward a more Gryffindor personality. Ye bet that's probably me house. They're known for bravery an' strength." It sounded like Merida was trying to convince herself more than the others, though. "I'd sport the scarlet an' gold over green an' silver any day," she grumbled.

"Oh, so the houses have colors. Let's give them mascots, too!" Jack scoffed.

"Already done. Yer a boy full o' sass, aren't ye?" Merida shot. Rapunzel giggled, and her big green eyes implored Merida to answer of the house animals. "Gryffindor is a lion, and Slytherin is a snake."

"You said there were two more houses?" Hiccup said hopefully.

"Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw students wear bronze an' blue- the house colors are integrated with school uniform, ye see- an' their animal is an eagle. Bloody brilliant, a Ravenclaw is. Not only are they good at memorizin' an' understandin', they have an overpowerin' will to learn. Ye would always expect a Ravenclaw to be at the head o' the class. A Hufflepuff wears black an' yellow, an' their animal is a badger. If ye want someone to back ye in a fight, a Hufflepuff would be yer best bet, though they're often overlooked. A Hufflepuff is loyal an' determined, an' have an inclination to do what is right no matter what. They're carin' an' understadin', an' they don't pick a fight unless necessary."

For the rest of the train ride, Merida explained Quidditch, class options, spells, notorious wizards, information about Hogwarts Castle, and much more, all while braiding back Rapunzel's hair, who watched carefully in the reflection of the window, memorizing every hand motion. She had relaxed and was more comfortable with Merida touching her precious locks, and Hiccup was naturally trustworthy; he just had that air to him. But Rapunzel kept shooting glances at Jack, who would already be looking at her, with that unnerving expression that reminded her of a five-year-old schoolboy who cut girls' hair with safety scissors.

Naturally, Merida led them from the train station to the boats across a lake and into the Great Hall. The other first-years looked anxious, but some were excited like Merida. "That's the Sortin' Hat!" Merida screeched, pointing to the front.

"That's it?" Jack whispered to Hiccup. The old brown hat looked like a stereotypical wizard's hat that had been beaten and worn to its end, probably past that. It sat on a wooden stool in the front of a podium where, at the moment, the Headmaster had just arrived. At least, Jack guessed it was the Headmaster. He looked in charge, and all the students seemed to just shut up as soon as he stood tall. Plus, he was the oldest guy in there. As an older brother, Jack knew that the older you were, the better position you get, but the more responsibility you bear. He wasn't sure if that was just a sibling thing, but he went with his assumption.

"Welcome, students, old and new." His voice quavered with age, but it still sounded excited for the school year. "I am Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we begin our feast, we must yield to tradition of sorting our first-years into their future houses. Newcomers, before you, you see four tables. They each stand for the four dormitories you will be staying with for your next seven years. You will be sorted into your house by this hat in front of me, which has been magically instilled with the wisdom of Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin, each of whom have named their houses for themselves. The hat is enchanted to read into who you really are and put you with the students most like yourself. They will be like your family. Each house will compete for points, which can be earned simply by class participation, yet taken away just as easily by breaking rules, like curfew. Now, let the sorting begin!" Professor Dumbledore raised his arms to the cheering of the rest of the Hall. Then, within the folds of the wizard's hat, one particular fold began to function as a mouth, reciting a song that seemed, at first, official and boring, but then became confusing.

Welcome one and all to the Sorting Ceremony
Where your fate at this school is at my decree
You have four different houses as possibilities
And thus I will sort you based on your potencies

Gryffindor is where the brave at heart dwell
Hufflepuff is the home of the true and the loyal
Ravenclaw is filled with bright minds to shine
Slytherin marks its importance back in time

Your house is who you really aspire to be
But that does not mean you are of its good quality
Each house has its flaws of which you are not exempt
House points do not give you points of worthiness, despite attempt

All houses must come together and empower one another
For your flaw, the other has saving power
And when another house falls, be at its service
You may be the only one who can provide assistance

Dumbledore broke the silence with his bellowing voice, calling the first years in alphabetical order by their surname. That meant that towards the beginning, the first among the four new unlikely friends to be called was "DunBroch, Merida!"

Merida practically sprinted up to the stool and slammed the hat deep over her brow. She pressed her lips together and swung her legs anxiously.

Ah, yes, pureblooded family. I offer Slytherin, of course, to any pureblood at first…

No, Merida thought intently. No, no, no.

You do seem to have a mind of equality for Muggle-born magic folk. That would take you out of Slytherin right away. You also seem, hmm, restless, impertinent, and daring.

Merida cringed. That's not a bad thing, ye know.

Brave. That's what you'd admit to. The biggest compliment someone could pay you is bravery. You know what house I'm getting at, and since you aren't arguing…

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Sorting Hat bellowed across the Great Hall. The wizard hat practically popped off of Merida's untamed red curly hair as she eagerly joined her house table, filled with students in scarlet-and-gold ties who were cheering, as every house cheered for their new member. However, as Rapunzel watched her friend join Gryffindor table, she could tell they were eager to see Merida specifically be apart of their house. It must be common knowledge DunBroch was a royal family in Scotland.

"Frost, Jackson!" Dumbledore called. Jack flinched besides Hiccup, who clapped him on the shoulder.

"You better get going, Jackson."

"Hiccup."

The boys glowered, and Rapunzel giggled, receiving that same unnerving smile from Jack. She wasn't stupid; she began to pick up on how Jack teased people for enjoyment; not just for himself and the people around him, but the people he teased, too. Sure enough, as Jack swaggered down the Great Hall, Hiccup shook his head, smiling. He loved being teased by Jack, but he wasn't going to admit that.

Jack daintily picked up the Sorting Hat by two fingers, making a face as if it smelled bad. Giggles aroused from the students of the Great Hall, and teachers put forth a noticeable effort to remember his face in their class as a troublemaker. Reluctantly, he slid the hat on his head.

Jack didn't expect for the hat to talk to him, and it didn't for a while. Well, well, well… came an echo resounding in his skull.

"Oh, shoot! Is the hat supposed to be telepathic?" Jack yelled across the hall, knocking the hat off his head. He wasn't trying to make anybody laugh, and his genuinely frightened face made the students roar all the harder.

"I understand your shock, Jackson." The Headmaster smiled down at him. "Though I must implore you to not knock a Hogwarts artifact carelessly to the ground."

"It's- I apologize, sir." He was going to correct his name was Jack, not Jackson, but this didn't seem the time to do it. Picking up the hat with much more respect this time, he sat back down on the stool and put it on shamefully.

Jack squirmed. An apology would get the hat talking again. He thought, Sorry.

Muggle-born, I see. This whole thing must be new to you. For that, I will spare you the pain of having the sword of Godric Gryffindor shoved through your skull.

Oh, ok, so you, a hat, can conjure telepathic messages and the swords of dead school guys? Great. I love this place.

Very sassy. Jack smiled, and the hat continued. If it weren't for your birth status, I'd say you're cunning, resourceful, charming, and everything a Slytherin would want.

I thought Slytherin was only for the purebloods.

Slytherin members think purebloods are better, that's all.

Well, I don't.

Slytherin members are also quite blunt with their thoughts. Ambitious, too.

Are you going to yell "Slytherin" or not?

You are a powerful wizard. One of many talents. And for that, I grant a choice. But let me advise you: Muggle-born wizards are often judged for being lesser, and this is not right. Slytherin House is often judged for being… judgmental, and while true to a degree, it is nonetheless not right to judge. Don't let others limit your ambition, Jack. Every house has its advantage, and certain students do better in others. For you specifically, Slytherin would make you a great, great wizard.

Jack sighed. He remembered how Merida hated the members of Slytherin so much, and the hat seemed to read this.

Gryffindor and Slytherin are often enemies. But you and your friend can fix this unnecessary breach.

Slytherin, Jack thought, coming to peace with himself. The rest of my house can get over my blood, and the other houses, by knowing I'm Muggle-born, will know I'm not judgmental to other Muggle-born wizards, obviously.

Forethought, another great talent of a Slytherin, the hat mused. I'm going to put you in "SLYTHERIN!"

Jack took off the hat to cheering from the table in silver and green. He managed to meet Merida's eyes as he handed the hat to Professor Dumbledore. She looked shocked, disappointed, and then accepting. Her smile and encouraging nod prove she's very brave, Jack thought, to accept me for what she hates. He strode over to the table, where he was welcomed warmly. It was hard to believe they were so judgmental against birth, and if the hat hadn't admitted to it, he probably wouldn't have taken Merida's word for it.

Immediately after him, Professor Dumbledore shouted, "Gothel, Rapunzel!" It was like one collective gasp choked the entire Hall. People marveled at her hair, and a boy next to Jack muttered, "I'd bet my money she was part Veela."

"What's a Veela?"

The handsome young guy next to him laughed. "Jackson, right?"

"Jack."

"Well, Jack, Veela are extremely beautiful semi-human magical beings, that are known for being… extremely beautiful. Although, they also often have a bit of arrogance in their eyes. This Rapunzel just seems timid and not at all arrogant. It's the long, blond hair that bears Veela resemblance. It's probably magical; why wouldn't she cut it?"

Jack looked around, and other Slytherin boys drawled over her. His stomach crawled. "I met her on the train here. She's a half-blood." Jack noticed the boy's face contort for a split second and fought his anger. "She didn't know she was magical until this summer. It's from her dad's side; her mom knew nothing of the magic world. If Rapunzel lives with her mom, not her dad, how would she know to keep magic hair?"

"Probably a bit more to her story. Heck, she might have tonsurephobia, the fear of cutting your hair. By the way, I'm Flynn. Flynn Rider. Second-year student."

"You look older," Jack thought aloud, before realizing it was a stupid thing to say.

"I didn't start Hogwarts until I was thirteen. While most second-years are twelve, I'm fourteen. Why so late? I was on the run. Both of my parents died when I was really young. I grew up in a lousy orphanage and didn't know I was magic. Once I ran off, the Ministry of Magic had to track me down. They found me two years late and told the kingdom I'd been transferred to some reform school for troubled orphans. I… I stole things, but I had to live, you know? At first it was food to survive and stuff, but I wanted more of a challenge, more adventure." Flynn chuckled.

Jack raised an eyebrow. Slytherin House must be close-knit, because this guy had no problem spilling his crimes. "What 'challenging' things did you steal?"

"Shh… she's putting the hat on." Something told Jack this was a desperate attempt to end the conversation and he wouldn't be getting an answer anytime soon.

Rapunzel sat perfectly still, and braced herself. She would've had Jack's exact same reaction if she hadn't expected the hat to possibly talk in her mind, and something told her the little freak out was much more endearing on Jack than it was on her.

Why aren't you wearing shoes?

That's what the hat said to her. Really. Feeling her overly long school robes with her toes, she knew the rest of the school couldn't see her bare feet. How could a hat, on her head, with no eyes, see her feet?

Good question. I just know they're shoeless. Where are your shoes?

Oh, so you communicate with the hat by thoughts?

Don't refer to me in the third person.

Sorry. Well… I've never owned shoes in my life. Mother was going to buy me some for school, and I tried them on, but… I prefer to be barefoot. It makes me feel more grounded.

Amusing. And why don't you cut your hair?

The answer undulated through her mind, but she blocked it. No way was a hat of all things going to discover her secret.

I see. Interesting. Already gifted in Occlumency. The art of blocking thought from magical penetration. The fact you can block thoughts from me… you are a very, very intelligent young girl. You are quite promising and will do fantastic at this school.

Rapunzel felt herself smiling, her shoulders relaxing. Thank-you. That's the nicest thing anyone could say to me.

Hmm. I see you like to chart stars on your ceiling? Lucky you: your mother lets you paint on the ceiling of a tower… are you royalty?

No. I just live in a tower.

It's not just the tower. It's… well, a sense of regality in your being. I suspect it's your wisdom. Those wise beyond their years are in none other than Ravenclaw.

But I want to be with my friend, Merida.

You can still see and be with your friend, rest assured. But the Ravenclaw house is imperative if you wish to be the best witch you can be. Aren't you a dedicated learner?

Ok, yes. You promise me I can still see my friends?

You are not limited to your house. Did you not hear my song earlier? Interacting and bonding with other houses is what makes Hogwarts so powerful. The entire Ravenclaw House is no match for one Ravenclaw, one Hufflepuff, one Slytherin, and one Gryffindor combined.

Rapunzel smiled. Then that's where I want to be. Ravenclaw.

And as she thought the word, the hat bellowed the house name across the hall, and she saw, upon taking off the hat, a table of bronze-and-blue looked at her with interest and welcoming, beckoning her over. She remembered the Headmaster saying her house was like her family, and summoned up the courage to walk over to them. What, was someone going to chop off her hair for no reason? Catching Merida's eye, she smiled and put a hand on her plaits, to thank her for the braids that made her hair only fall to halfway down her calf. Ingenious. Something told her that Merida's mom, who taught the braid to Merida, was probably a Ravenclaw. Merida's smile back said she understood the gratitude and her thumbs up supported Rapunzel on her way to her table.

Hiccup now stood alone, waiting for his name to be called, and it wasn't long before "Haddock, Hiccup!" rung through the Great Hall and aroused much laughter. On his way down the center aisle, he saw someone sitting next to Jack, laughing hysterically. He seemed older, cooler, and definitely better-looking than Hiccup. But, to his great pleasure, Hiccup saw Jack shake his head and whisper a few words to the cool dude. Whatever Jack said caused the handsome friend to look up at Hiccup with respect and a polite smile. Hiccup dashed the rest of the way up to the stool and the Sorting Hat; the laughing had died down, causing his procession to be accompanied by silence. The silence that served Merida was one of reverence, the silence for Jack was of high approval, and surely the silence for Rapunzel had been none other than one of admiration. But for him, the silence was judgmental and colder than his Viking tribe on Berk.

The Sorting hat fell deep over Hiccup's long, thin head.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, is it? Future leader of the Viking tribe on the Island of Berk off of Norway-

Yeah, yeah, Hiccup thought, enough formalities. I'm more than a family line.

Touchy.

Hiccup sat in silence, and the hat said nothing more. Um… is that all you say?

No. I talk about students' futures in their prospective houses.

Well, which house am I being thrown into?

Thrown, you say?

Enlighten me if I'm wrong, but stereotyping people… organizing cliques… That's all this seems to be to me. I want to be put with a group of people who don't judge others by their house but by their character. People who can be counted on for support.

You will lead your tribe greatly one day, Hiccup. Funny name though.

I've heard that a lot.

Well, if that's the kind house you want to be in, I know you'll fit perfectly in "HUFFLEPUFF!"

A kid from the Slytherin table snorted, and two Ravenclaw girls nodded at one another, while the Hufflepuff table cheered louder than Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw had ever done. In fact, they'd been cheering equally as loud for all their new classmates. The black-and-yellow in their ties didn't feature a prideful metallic shade. Hiccup knew this was the house he wanted to be in. Throwing a quick glance to Jack, he saw Jack smile and urge him onto his house with a wave of his hands. Hiccup glanced at the new friend Jack had made and guessed, like the hat, the dude respected him only for being the future leader of a tribe. That's what Jack must've told him.

But the classmates who enthusiastically received him were going to judge him for who he really was. They were loyal, honest, and good-natured, not labeled so because they were from Hufflepuff, but because they had a caring glow behind their eyes.

The sorting continued on, and Hiccup sat in the first available seat. He turned to his right and nearly jumped. Naturally, he'd found a seat next to one of the most beautiful girls at Hufflepuff table, or maybe the whole school, who was way older than he was.

She brushed the uneven blond hair from her eyes, and despite her skinny build and endearing smile, her blue eyes shown with strength. "It's Hiccup, right? I'm Astrid, seventh-year Hogwarts student."

"So… it's your last year." Way to crush on an unobtainable girl, Hiccup thought. He had always been a sucker for girls. It had nothing to do with puberty, because, despite his tendency to grow like a weed, there's no way he could've hit it yet with his high voice and lack of muscles. Sure, Jack was also skinny, but he had that lower voice that made girls in the Great Hall swoon when he freaked over a talking hat.

Astrid nodded. "I'm Head Girl. That's basically what it sounds like; I'm the Head Girl of the entire student body here at Hogwarts. Lots of people say Hufflepuff is where the weak are- oh, you don't need to worry; each house has its flaw- but it goes to show you that hard work and dedication can get you anywhere. Those kids who called me weak answer to me know. Anyways, I know this school like the back of my hand. If you ever need help with anything, you can come to me." And with a smile, Astrid turned back to the Sorting Ceremony, giving the same speech to each of the new Hufflepuff students.