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In the silent library, Giles walked with a purpose past the few upper year Ravenclaws, who had tomes piled high on their tables, towards the musty section at the back. He searched the tall laden bookshelves, then picked out the thick, dusty volume of [i]A History of Hogwarts: The Special Millenia Edition[/i] in lieu of more outdated versions. The boy held the large book in both hands and sat at an empty table away from any prying eyes. He flipped over the hard cover and traced a finger down the long list of contents before turning to page 2306; barely had he started squinting at the small font when he was startled by a sudden voice. “Chapter 145: The Sorting Hat,” the disembodied man began, sounding terribly bored and loud in the still air. 

Angry footsteps immediately quickened towards him. Giles closed the book - it continued reciting, muffled - and was about to make for the shelves with it when the withered, thin librarian appeared, glaring at him down her hooked nose. Her black robes billowed in her haste like ominous wings. She did not look kindly or helpful from the stories his parents had told him of her. “Perhaps,” Madam Pince hissed, brandishing her wand and the book quieted, “you would like to follow the rules on the first day of school.” 

A nearby sign on the wall read: Magical talking books must be muted in the library.

Giles bit his tongue to hold in a protest and apologised instead, embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Madam Pince looked at him intently, dark eyes roamed over his features and down his robes, like she was trying to recognise him. The boy gazed back, not the least daunted, and smiled. “My parents have frequently spoken fondly of you, Madam Pince,” he said to jolt her memory. “They send their regards.”

“Oh… yes… of course,” she nodded as realisation dawned on her. “You’ve grown since the Christmas card they sent me. You will not find what you’re looking for in this book, Mr Kingston,” At his look of surprise, she said, “You are not the first to seek a house transfer. Unfortunately, you'll find that the Sorting Hat is always correct and the rules of the Sorting unyielding. If you wish to read the regulations yourself, tap the book with your wand and say [i]silencio[/i] to mute it.” 

“Thank you.”

She left him with a word of advice: “It is not the house you’re in that would make your parents proud of you. Give them my best.” 

Giles watched Madam Pince disappear round some shelves; her words were puzzling to the eleven year old. He looked down at the dull title and, with a certain determination, pulled out his wand. 


* *

Sunset hues spilled through the great windows to colour the long arched corridor. With a heavy heart Giles was heading towards the Gryffindor tower. He paused in his step for his eye had caught a reflection in the pane that, for a moment, he thought he saw his father. Many of their family friends had commented they looked alike. Giles touched the scarlet and gold satin on his robes that was supposed to have been blue and bronze, like what the portraits wore that adorned home or his parents’ oversized robes he used to put on in the attic. [i]It wasn’t supposed to be like this.[/i] He grimaced, feeling incongruent, and the reflection looked as if it was his father wearing it with a disapproving stare.

[i]Their letter will arrive tomorrow[/i], Giles thought morosely, expecting disappointment in their tone. [i]”My decision stands,”[/i] the Sorting Hat had said and from what he had read, Madam Pince was right. He sighed, the pane misted, and drew a smiley face with a wizard’s hat to cheer himself up. It jigged up and down in the seconds it had, which cracked a smile over the boy’s face.

Murmurs and a couple of thumps echoed faintly from down the corridor. Giles turned to see a few students around his age trickle into a side room. [i]”The study club!”[/i] he remembered excitedly as a brilliant idea struck him. [i]”If I do [/i]extremely [i]well in school, they will see that I belong in Ravenclaw![/i]” Hero, a fellow Gryffindor, had casually mentioned an open invitation in the common room earlier that day, so it was with gladness that Giles walked briskly into the room. 

“Hello,” he greeted the crowd warmly, taking in the varied members of the group with confidence and ease. “Here for the study club. I’m Giles Kingston, first year, nice to meet everybody.”