Charlie is irritable. The one person he knew had to go to Ravenclaw and now he’s alone again. He wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his robe as the parade of students getting sorted continues.

The Slytherins aren’t quite so welcoming as the other groups, but he feels hands thump on his shoulders and small laughs. Are they laughing at him?

Must be. For yelling at Thandiwe. Maybe he shouldn’t’ve yelled but it’s her fault that the hat knew she was smart and not clever like a Slytherin. So, he keeps his arms crossed and fidgets as more people come.

A lot of people who either look thrilled or peeved come to the Slytherin side and are greeted with equal enthusiasm. Why couldn’t they be as fun as the Gryffindors looked? Not that he would want to be a Gryffindor! All they are, are loud brawny people!

Not for the first nor the last time today, Charlie wishes that he was still with his mother. They’d be eating dinner with Uncle Josiah, who probably made something fun. Like fish and chips or a hamburger or just some salad… He would even take the garden salad that they sometimes ate when his father tightened the purse strings. Uncle Josiah could make anything from so little! It’s hard to believe he’s really a Muggle.

The trip to the Slytherin dormitory is…interesting. The head of Slytherin leads them through a twisting stair deep into the belly of the castle. It unsettles Charlie, to be underground…he shakes a little, actually.

No fresh air? No window? Just…tonnes of rock and water and dirt…like a tomb…

They gather around a blank wall, the head staring them down. He looks horrific. Like he would love nothing more than an excuse to make an example of someone. Charlie is familiar with that look. He swallows and shrinks in on himself. If Thandiwe were here, she would probably be okay to hide behind.

“Vanderbee!” Charlie can feel the sting of tears already. What did he do? A few eyes in his direction are pulled away by the scraping of stone as the wall opens to a large room. It’s grand, but something about the decor lacks coziness, as if someone decorated with the express desire to unsettle visitors and massage already bloated egos.

Shockingly, there are windows. Green light filters through them, fish darting by, flashing brilliantly. Charlie isn’t really certain if it’s a relief or if it makes him feel worse. This is nothing like what he pictured.

“This is the Slytherin common room. Boys to the left. Girls to the right. Gender nonconforming to the center. Vanderbee is the password. The theme for this year is distinguished alumni. I believe we even have a Vanderbee among us.” Pottle shoots him an expectant glance and the other students’ eyes come back to him.

Charlie feels the tears tumbling down as he keeps quiet. The disappointment of everyone is palpable, but for a messy-haired blonde who holds out a paper tissue. Charlie takes it and mumbles his thanks.

Pottle continues to explain the rules and expectations. Keep clean. Keep quiet. Keep to the schedule. Passwords are posted in the common room. Electricity must be applied for. Lights out is lights out.

Eventually, Charlie is relieved to finally be allowed to head to the dorms. Up stairs, through green-lit corridors, the press of water over them gives him chills.

“Hi!”

Immediately, he feels some of that pressure let up. Rev flaps to him and preens him, and Charlie lets himself relax at last. His room is shared with three others.

One, thankfully, is the messy blonde. The other two are even less enthusiastic than him, all of them silent. Charlie swallows and looks through his things. It’s all stacked neatly at the foot of his bed, so he fills the wardrobe with his clothes and lines the drawer with his books and tools. How is he going to get all this stuff to classes? Ugh.

Rev pulls gently on his hair and he turns to look at the other three. No one introduces themselves. Charlie swallows and sits on his bed, pulling his knees to his chest. These next seven years are going to be the worst part of his entire life, he just knows it.