By the time they had made it down to the Ss of the list, Connor was a little overwhelmed. He had seen plenty of places, and had read about Hogwarts, but – the candlelight was almost blindingly bright from the front here, and the sea of students’ faces at the tables suddenly looked much bigger. There were so many siblings and twins and cousins and friends already, even amongst the first years. It felt odd. He tilted his head up to glance at the sky or the ceiling, whichever it was – but then the hat came down on his head, and he had to duck his chin again, startling when the hat spoke to him.
"Describe yourself in three words."
Mrs. Murray often called him demanding, and a little tyrant – but then she gave him anything he wanted anyway, didn’t she? So that was her fault, or his parents’ fault for employing her. Other than that, Connor was left to his own devices – he sometimes supposed his parents thought him little more than a burden. But he was better than that. He was clever, he knew he was clever. He was good at paying attention. He was – Fine by myself.
"Would you rather be able to change into an animal, change your appearance, or see the future?"
He tried not to scoff at the choices presented. He bet the other kids all wanted to be animals, to be able to fly or swim or climb walls or whatever. That felt like the childish option. And kind of stupid. Mouth closed, Connor ran his tongue over his canines, more conscious of them today than he had ever had cause to be. And then there was his paleness, and the idea that someone, eventually, would realise the rumours weren’t exaggerated at all, and that was what his parents were.
Change my appearance, he thought. Then he’d be able to show people exactly what they wanted to see, and be exactly who he wanted to be.
"If you could invent a potion, what would it do?"
Something that’ll change the world. He didn’t care precisely what it did, beyond that – it was more the achievement that mattered.
"Imagine you see someone cheat in class. What do you do?"
Connor didn’t know many children his age, but he suspected half of them were idiots. He pulled a face, unimpressed. Tell them I know, probably. Then see what they do. And, depending on them, he could tell the teacher – or keep their secret. Either way.
"Who is your enemy and how will you defeat them?"
He had to think about this one. He didn’t know many people, really, so he hadn’t had much opportunity for enemies. His enemies had been the spiderwebs in the corners of the library, and the yawning boredom of a hundred empty days, and maybe the so-called sister who had nevertheless abandoned him to his mother and Marius, and only remembered he existed twice a year. My father hates me, I think. He pretends he doesn’t, but I can see it sometimes, in his eyes. But – I’m here now, aren’t I? Away from him. And he’s away from me. So I guess we both win.
"Describe yourself in three words."
Mrs. Murray often called him demanding, and a little tyrant – but then she gave him anything he wanted anyway, didn’t she? So that was her fault, or his parents’ fault for employing her. Other than that, Connor was left to his own devices – he sometimes supposed his parents thought him little more than a burden. But he was better than that. He was clever, he knew he was clever. He was good at paying attention. He was – Fine by myself.
"Would you rather be able to change into an animal, change your appearance, or see the future?"
He tried not to scoff at the choices presented. He bet the other kids all wanted to be animals, to be able to fly or swim or climb walls or whatever. That felt like the childish option. And kind of stupid. Mouth closed, Connor ran his tongue over his canines, more conscious of them today than he had ever had cause to be. And then there was his paleness, and the idea that someone, eventually, would realise the rumours weren’t exaggerated at all, and that was what his parents were.
Change my appearance, he thought. Then he’d be able to show people exactly what they wanted to see, and be exactly who he wanted to be.
"If you could invent a potion, what would it do?"
Something that’ll change the world. He didn’t care precisely what it did, beyond that – it was more the achievement that mattered.
"Imagine you see someone cheat in class. What do you do?"
Connor didn’t know many children his age, but he suspected half of them were idiots. He pulled a face, unimpressed. Tell them I know, probably. Then see what they do. And, depending on them, he could tell the teacher – or keep their secret. Either way.
"Who is your enemy and how will you defeat them?"
He had to think about this one. He didn’t know many people, really, so he hadn’t had much opportunity for enemies. His enemies had been the spiderwebs in the corners of the library, and the yawning boredom of a hundred empty days, and maybe the so-called sister who had nevertheless abandoned him to his mother and Marius, and only remembered he existed twice a year. My father hates me, I think. He pretends he doesn’t, but I can see it sometimes, in his eyes. But – I’m here now, aren’t I? Away from him. And he’s away from me. So I guess we both win.