I don’t appreciate an adult infiltrating the ranks of the fresh batch of Hogwarts’ students, the hat accused, especially one who’s foolish enough to go through the Sorting willingly. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?

  I fought to keep my panic in wraps. Deep breaths; one, two, three....

  Let’s walk back a second, there, I thought back, who said I was infiltrating anything?

  The Sorting ceremony is for the newly accepted students to go through, who are typically eleven, at most twelve human years old, Ms. Hebert.

  I devoured the books on this, I thought indignantly, there’ve been people who’d been held back, be it because of their health and family situation. There is precedent.

  You think yourself so smart, don’t you, the hat spat and I was shaken by the bile in his voice. Do you think they keep me in a dust bin except for a single day in the year? I am notified by the headmaster of any extremes and unexpected situations among the newcoming students before I Sort them. And in the precedent you are referring to, students who were tragically unable to attend in the appropriate age have never been treated just as like any other student in their year, that would have been unjust to both them and the rest of their year. They would be accommodated to one of the seperate quarters available in the vast complex that is Hogwarts.

  Shocked by the influx of information, and my argument thwarted, I asked, What even is the point of Sorting them then?

  To provide a sense of tradition, the hat replied, and I personally request it, it told me, it’s tone sweet from satisfaction.

  It immediately made sense to me. The hat had no eyes, hands or legs and although it claimed to not get buried in some holder until they needed it for the Sorting, there couldn’t have been going on much for him. His presence on earth amounted to little, sitting around wherever they would put him after this, and deciding with who, where and how the children would spend their time here at the school. I realized that the implications of which child went where in terms of the houses reached much further, as reminded to me by Ron back in the train, considering the importance the magical world placed on them, and the hat probably thought himself to handle one string among others making up the thread of destiny of these kids.

  Except, the hat was quick to send the kids away to their houses, sometimes barely spending any seconds on their heads. If I was correct on the previous idea about the hat making the most of what little he had, wouldn’t he take this sweet time with this whole ordeal?

  Maybe he used to, but got told to hurry up, or even threatened with replacement.

  When had I started referring to the hat as a “he?”

  My face had gotten wet with sweat. I was stalling.

  The hat seemed to agree. But that’s a topic for another day, it was saying. Let me ease one of your worries, Ms. Hebert. I can neither read your mind nor dig through your memories.

  I exhaled a long breath as I heard it from the dog’s mouth. It made sense, that would be too invasive to be allowed, but I couldn’t help but consider it. I found it dumb, to reveal his inability like that. When interrogating, you wanted the victim to think you aready knew or everything, or that it was inevitable you would. That’s why Tattletale went around claiming she was psychic and why Alexandria...

  I can, converse with you silently, as demonstrated, and I can feel around your emotional make-up, analyse your personality, take a glimpse at a defining moment here and there. Nothing near the level of anything anyone would need to be wary of, other than you I suppose.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I was the mouse and it was the cat.

  The moment I touched your temple was the moment I understood that your mind is not that of an ordinary child, no. It’s much more like an adult’s. Which of these children are bothered at the idea of someone swimming around in their head? I can smell the experience, not just the time, the years but the actions and the consequences, the stumbling of a life responsible for itself. You are a lot more assured and sure of your thoughts. You are cynical in a way no kid is. But before all of those, you are a killer.

  My brows furrowed.

  Ah, yes. I recognize the stain on the soul right away.

  My heart was struggling to beat it’s way out of my chest. My hand, grabbing the side of the stool, was a waterslide. My breath was hitchy.

  But my thoughts remained clear.

  So tell me, Ms. Hebert, a reason for me not to scream my lungs out and expose you to everyone present.

  I responded immediately, Because you can do that any moment you want, and you won’t lose anything by hearing me out.

  Hear you out? I don’t think so, Ms. Hebert. I’ll ask and you’ll answer.

  Giving myself a second to think, I didn’t actually have anything to hide, as shitty as that phrase sounded. I was here on good intentions, I’d been formally invited and accepted, I was not impersonating someone I wasn’t. Shoot them.

  Have you stolen the body you’re in right now?

  No.

  Have you altered your appearance in any way to be mistaken for someone you aren’t?

  No.

  Do you plan to bring harm to the students of Hogwarts?

  No.

  What about other residents of the school? The magical beasts outside it?

  No.

  A moment of silence. I sneaked a look to the tables, and the students were more occupied with whispering at each other than being curious about me and why I was taking so long.

  I’m really harmless, Mr. Hat.

  Explain the details surrounding the situation you are in. Don’t lie or omit any details, I’ll know.

  Lie detectors were helpful in cases like this where they were a shortcut to reach agreement with a party you weren’t hostile to.

  I reincarnated.

  Rare. Curt, but considerate. Was I getting through him? I have encountered some, much before you. I definitely was.

  I was eighteen when I... died, in my previous life. I was... at a chaotic region of my country, and disaster struck, and my city was plunged to disorder. I had to fend for myself and my loved ones, and I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.

  He didn’t reply.

  Am I cleared?

  You aren’t lying, Ms. Hebert. You appear to be legitimate. You certainly think you are reincarnated, but there is a fine line between a child inheriting the soul and memories of someone gone, and an adult in a child’s body. No suspicion of foul play is left, but this is an important distinction. Follow my thought.

  I’m following.

  When you found out I was the Sorter, you didn’t want to go through with this process, yes? He didn’t care for my confirmation, he already had it the moment his question had reached me. And yet, to not make a scene, to not attract attention, to not disturb others. You did anyways. And where did that lead you? Right in my grasp. As much as you tried, you could never disappear into the crowd, yes, I can see it now. You’ve tried before, haven’t you? A pretense, or even multiple. Never kept for long.

  I understood what it was getting at. Trying to endure the bullying, not doing anything to change my situation had been the catalyst to my powers manifesting and me going out looking for trouble.

  Acting like I was undercover, which Lisa had always known, was another example, and I was on the verge of dropping it until I learned about Dinah. Then Leviathan had hit... There were other examples, but the main idea was that trouble seemed to find me, and I’d never been able to keep up a ruse for long.

  It’s even more obvious to my eyes now, Ms. Hebert, that you aren’t the direct continuation of the adult you’d been in your past life. Shutting up, pushing your protests down, going with the flow? It’s antithetical to the person the old you had grown to be. If you really were her, you’d trust your instinct and not put me on....

  He took a moment.

  This conversation could have taken longer. There are other ways to seperate an actual reincarnation from similar ones, but we are on a time limit, unfortunately. I’m satisfied with what I’m given, and I consider you nothing more than a little special first year, Ms. Hebert.

  My fear gone, I sighed. So what now? You terrified the shit out of me. Was all that necessary?

  Yes... Forgive me, I hoped you were of ill-intentions.

  Baffled, I asked, why.

  Because, he whispered ominously, that would be a neat explanation for the infestation in your head.