A tiny boy appears in the Sorting Room. He appears to be about five years old, and small for that age, with thin hair and dark eyes. In reality, he is seven. The lingering effects of early deprivation haven't been wiped out, despite looking lean and strong. And he's careworn, unusually so for a child so young
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I walk up to him when he puts the pen down. "Second?" I look at him. "Ever resent the guy who was first?"
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