"It's for a magic school," Ruby replied. "As weird as that may sound. You answer the questions and the other students pick which of the four houses you belong in."
"Oohhhhhh." Her eyes opened wide for a moment... a magic school, really?... then she smiled brightly. Magic seemed like it would be a useful thing to know, and even if it was a joke it should be entertaining. "I guess some of the questions make a little more sense, then. Not all of them, though. That one question... this place isn't full of perverts, is it?"
There was something about Misa that reminded Harry of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. It wasn't something that was entirely pleasant, either, at least not to Harry, but he decided to give her a chance anyway.
"Er...hi. I'm Harry Potter," he started, hoping that her eyes didn't suddenly dart to his forehead the way everyone's always seemed to when he said his name. "And...well, it's really hard to say if Fred or George is nicer, and when they send presents, you know, such as toilet seats and the like, it's usually together. And they both smile a lot, so it'd be nearly impossible to say which one...."
Harry trailed off, scratching his head. This was not going so smoothly. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, because we're not in any sort of love triangle. Or any shape at all. No love. Or shapes. Just...yeah."
Being utterly ignorant of the Wizarding World, of course, Misa's gaze barely flickered over his forehead... the scar was noticeable, of course, but not all that disfiguring.
"Oh! That question is about you? But if you're not in love with either of them, why is there a question about it? It's really a very silly question!"
That was a brilliant question, one that Harry asked himself nearly every Sortin he went to. With an emphatic nod and a shrug, he replied, "I dunno. I think there's something wrong with the Sorting Hat. It used to just sit on your head and read your thoughts and tell you which House you belonged in, but now it asks you all this rubbish about cheese and love triangles and bars and then sticks you wherever its whims lead it."
Sadly, the school was governed better when berks like Lucius Malfoy were sitting on the Board of Governors. ...Then again, there were no deathly basilisks roaming the corridors these days, so perhaps the current state of affairs actually was better.
"I don't know if having something reading your thoughts would be much better. But some of those questions are just rude! Being asked about cheese and bars and paperwork isn't so bad, but Misa would never harass anyone! Do I look like a pervert?"
Truthfully, in her gothic lolita finery, she looked more like pervert-bait than a pervert.
Bored, bored, bored. There wasn't anyone to talk to and Richard could only torment house elves for so long. So he decided to go bother other applicants instead.
For some reason, he was drawn to the obscenely perky walking mass of ruffles and lace in one corner. Maybe it was the feeling that there was more there than there appeared. Maybe it was because she seemed to be protesting a bit much to the killing question.
Or maybe he was just randomly bored.
"Why wouldn't you want to kill them?" he asked. "It's so much fun. Especially when you don't know them."
"But most people don't deserve to be killed! Only bad people. There are a lot of bad people, though." She stopped there; she'd spent enough time tied up just because some obsessive pervert thought she might be Kira! It wouldn't do to sound too sympathetic to vigilantes. She narrowed her eyes. "But if you like killing, maybe someone should kill you."
"If they're a criminal," she said slowly, as if explaining to someone very stupid. It was probably a good thing for Richard she no longer had the Note or even the memory of it; she'd played pretty fast and loose with her definition of 'bad' at the time. "And you're not funny!"
Catelyn was out and about, and that meant her resident bodyguard was with her. Neither one had been into a Sorting in ages, and once Silas had read the application he asked, very quietly, "How do you know if someone deserves to be killed?"
Hey. Coming from Silas, it was a very valid question.
Misa opened her mouth, then shut it again, and thought for a moment. "If they're a criminal and like to hurt people, then they deserve to die. Wicked people should be punished!"
...That was a sentiment that, at one time, both Catelyn and Silas had subscribed to. They were, to use the modern phrasing, in remission now, for a very good reason.
"I once thought I knew who deserved to die, and who did not," Silas said, thoughtful. "Now I have no surety." It was part of why he had Ned, and Catelyn, and Camilla--they could tell him, and he trusted them to be truthful about it, and not lie as his superiors had done in his former life.
Catelyn stood behind him, silent, watchful. Silas sometimes had Issues with new people, but thus far everything seemed all right.
"Sometimes it is easy to tell!" Vehemence made Misa's tone strident. "There are people who cause pain and suffering and get away with it. Evil people! They should all die so they can never hurt anyone again!"
Simkin usually ignored new arrivals, but he'd been feeling lonesome for the Hat's company, and thought that perhaps it was a little loutish of him not to meet potential students (what with him being the professor of Magical History. Or something ridiculous like that).
So he had arrived in the sorting room, in a flurry of orange silk, looking impeccably dressed, as always.
"An autograph? My dear girl, I give autographs, not receive them. Whatever do you take me for, some kind of fan?"
"Misa-Misa is always being asked for autographs! It goes with being an idol!" She smiled brightly, though; at least he wasn't asking questions that could lead to her getting locked up and questioned again. "But it is okay if you are not a fan. Misa likes you anyway!"
"Of course you do, dear girl. How could you not? Only a lout or a bounder, or a cad would even consider not liking me."
He leaned against a wall, smiling at the young girl.
"So, why don't you tell me about yourself? If you want to be Sorted, I'm certain I can speak to the Hat on your behalf. Marvellous creature, that Hat. Such style, such grace."
Well, he was certainly vain! Maybe he was an actor. All the actors Misa had met were full of themselves.
"You really haven't heard of Misa?" She looked at him, wide-eyed. "I was just in a big movie, and I've been in magazines and on television. You've never seen 'Misa-Misa's Happy Sweets'?" Another winsome smile. "Also, I have a new CD out."
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"Er...hi. I'm Harry Potter," he started, hoping that her eyes didn't suddenly dart to his forehead the way everyone's always seemed to when he said his name. "And...well, it's really hard to say if Fred or George is nicer, and when they send presents, you know, such as toilet seats and the like, it's usually together. And they both smile a lot, so it'd be nearly impossible to say which one...."
Harry trailed off, scratching his head. This was not going so smoothly. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, because we're not in any sort of love triangle. Or any shape at all. No love. Or shapes. Just...yeah."
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"Oh! That question is about you? But if you're not in love with either of them, why is there a question about it? It's really a very silly question!"
Reply
Sadly, the school was governed better when berks like Lucius Malfoy were sitting on the Board of Governors. ...Then again, there were no deathly basilisks roaming the corridors these days, so perhaps the current state of affairs actually was better.
Reply
Truthfully, in her gothic lolita finery, she looked more like pervert-bait than a pervert.
Reply
For some reason, he was drawn to the obscenely perky walking mass of ruffles and lace in one corner. Maybe it was the feeling that there was more there than there appeared. Maybe it was because she seemed to be protesting a bit much to the killing question.
Or maybe he was just randomly bored.
"Why wouldn't you want to kill them?" he asked. "It's so much fun. Especially when you don't know them."
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"Only bad people deserve to get killed," Richard echoed in a bad falsetto. "So how do you tell if someone's 'bad,' little girl?"
"Really?" He sounded astonished. "And here I thought all those homicide attempts were because they thought I wasn't funny. Who'd have thought?"
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Hey. Coming from Silas, it was a very valid question.
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"I once thought I knew who deserved to die, and who did not," Silas said, thoughtful. "Now I have no surety." It was part of why he had Ned, and Catelyn, and Camilla--they could tell him, and he trusted them to be truthful about it, and not lie as his superiors had done in his former life.
Catelyn stood behind him, silent, watchful. Silas sometimes had Issues with new people, but thus far everything seemed all right.
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So he had arrived in the sorting room, in a flurry of orange silk, looking impeccably dressed, as always.
"An autograph? My dear girl, I give autographs, not receive them. Whatever do you take me for, some kind of fan?"
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He leaned against a wall, smiling at the young girl.
"So, why don't you tell me about yourself? If you want to be Sorted, I'm certain I can speak to the Hat on your behalf. Marvellous creature, that Hat. Such style, such grace."
Reply
"You really haven't heard of Misa?" She looked at him, wide-eyed. "I was just in a big movie, and I've been in magazines and on television. You've never seen 'Misa-Misa's Happy Sweets'?" Another winsome smile. "Also, I have a new CD out."
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