Asher stood in awe, staring at the ceiling above him. It had been manipulated to reflect the night sky. Magic, he reminded himself.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a school of magic. Asher would learn here how to hone his innate magic and control it. He was assured that despite his differences, he would be able to be a wizard like the other eleven-year-old students. He hoped against all hope that this was true.

Asher was tall for his age and could be described as lanky. He hated that description, of course, and preferred to think that his muscles were just more stretched out due to rapid bone growth. He kept his short black hair cropped tightly to his head, it made participating in sports much more comfortable. And while he appreciated the fact that his build set him apart on the baseball field, he wished he could make himself less noticeable now.

It took him a moment to realize where everyone else's attention was focused. There was a hat on a stool. Was the hat talking? Asher tried to make out the words but was unable to. He quickly gave up, recognizing a lost cause when he saw one. He instead surveyed the students around the great hall.

There were four long tables where the older students sat. Each table had a unique color-scheme. The closest was red and gold, the next was yellow and black, the third was blue and bronze, and the furthest table was green and silver. Asher wondered what the differences meant.

He wished he had been told of the school earlier. Perhaps he could have figured out the answer to the questions that now filled his brain. Would he be able to ask his questions? Would anyone be able to answer him?

The new students around him began fidgeting nervously. He focused his attention on the witch at the front of their group. She was reading from a scroll which covered the bottom half of her face. He frowned at that. If he couldn't see her whole face, he may miss something important.

A small girl pushed around him and walked up to the stool where the hat had been sitting a moment ago. The hat was placed on her head. A rip in the hat opened again as if it were saying something, and the girl made her way to the yellow and black table.

Asher watched as the next student did the same. Then another. Each time was after the witch read something off her parchment. She was calling out names! He realized.

He repositioned himself so that he could see her face more clearly. He waited until he recognized his name on her lips. "Green, Asher."

Asher walked nervously to the stool. He wondered if the hat would say anything to him. And would he know if it did?

The hat slid onto his head. "Interesting," a thought shot through his mind, but it was not his own. "Very curious, indeed. I haven't seen a student like you before."

Asher was afraid to move. He squeezed his palms together in his lap.

"You are a bright boy," the hat continued, "loyal to a fault. And a very strong desire to prove yourself. You refuse to admit weakness, is that courage or pride? Hmm."

Was this taking too long? Had the other students taken this long?

The hat's thoughts continued, "Yes, I think it would be best. You will do well in Slytherin!" The last word was spoken aloud for the school to hear. Asher was thankful that it was also in his thoughts.

The witch removed the hat from his head and gave a weak smile before directing him to the green and silver table. The students there were applauding and Asher acknowledged them as best he could. He found a spot at the end of the table and watched the rest of the sorting ceremony. He wondered again if this school would be good for him. He was certain he could do well if he tried, but was Hogwarts ready for a deaf student?