TheCrazyArtist – First of all, I really enjoy your username. Second of all, I'm glad this story wasn't so horrible that it made you bleed from your eyes. C:

SuperVolcano – Fifth year of Harry Potter, that's right! And aaa I'm glad you're so excited about this story, and I'll try to keep it up to your expectations! And yes, all will be explained when the proper time in the story comes!

Vanishing Snow – I'm going to try to update this story at least once every two weeks, so you shouldn't have to worry about any more month-long waits! And my mom is good at making scarves so maybe she can ~make you one~ or something~ Once again, I'm glad you're still enjoying the story! It makes me excited that so many people like it, aaa

Now on to the story!


The day had been spent getting various supplies that Eridan assumed were useless until they started to bite him or he saw it mysteriously move on its own. Whenever this happened, he'd chant the same mantra to himself.

Science. Science science it is science. There is a scientific explanation for all this somewhere.

Unfortunately, this voice was being slowly drowned out by another one exclaiming that magic was real. And if magic was real, well, it just bought back that stupid little spark of excitement he had when he was an idiotic little grub. If magic was real, he wouldn't have to feel a bit of shame for liking it so much, he would flourish his wand happily and not have to disguise it with science and

Eridan stopped these thoughts because they were stupid. Magic was fakey fake and he would find a scientific explanation…eventually.

For now, he would just enjoy it and figure it out later. There was a perfectly good reason that that book just zoomed over his head.

After all, maybe this was a normal thing for bookstores to have. Flourish and Blotts was the only bookstore he had ever gone into – okay, there was a bookstore in the Land of Wrath and Angels, but he had been too distracted by the genocidal angels to do any browsing. Sure, the worlds were a reflection of their players in some aspects, but did it really have to possess the genocidal streak?

Anyway, to get back to the point, Alternia didn't have much in the ways of getting books unless you were willing to kill a few people in a good FLARP. This made getting books inconvenient, but it never stopped Eridan from accumulating a good collection.

So Eridan pretty much squealed in excitement when he saw this huge library of books and all he needed to buy them was money. Or galleons. Or whatever weird wannabe-magic stuff they used.

Except he'd only been given about two gold pieces to use to buy books, and when he bought some he got a pile of silver and brown pieces and how the crap was he supposed to know what he could afford to buy. Eridan figured that this currency would be a lot more effective if they had little pictograms of the amount needed or something.

It had been quick to find the books, since he was a first year and the store owner had enough common courtesy to put those up in front for all the confused little first years. Not that Eridan was one of those or anything.

So now he was browsing the back of the shelves for some obscure topic because if he was going to become a wizard, he was going to become knowledgeable on everything, and he seriously doubted he would get to learn things like 'A Study of something something Eridan had only paid attention to the Reversing Natural Death part of the title' and 'Ancient Runes Made Easy', a book he had only been interested in because of the Alternian look to the runes on the cover.

He was still browsing for books that looked intellectual or big or interesting when he heard the chattering in the front of the store.

"Malfoy, I have better things to do than argue with you."

Eridan had a secret love for seeing Potter angry. Not in a blackrom way, just in a platonic 'I love to see you suffer' way. His time at the House of Black had been interspersed with setting up small inconveniences. It had been worthwhile and Potter never suspected a thing until Eridan had started chuckling at every mention of one of Harry's rants about said pranks.

Suffice to say, Eridan figured he would get along with this Malfoy kid. Enemy of your enemy and all that.

"Oh please, Potter, I know you have your ickle little scar, but now you think it's enough to kick me out of the bookstore? Potter and his Weasleys and his mudbloods and his new little dirtblood friend."

Oh. What did he just call him.

"Friends? With that wanker? From what I've seen, he's a shoe in for Slytherin. He can be your problem."

"Well, he's already been tainted by your presence so I-"

"Excuse me, but," Eridan had felt like this was a reasonable time for this interruption. As much as he loved seeing a human kismesis, this was an important point that needed to be clarified. "I am not a lowblood. If anything, you're a lowblood compared to me."

The glare from both of them Eridan received in turn showed that he had, once again, started off on the wrong foot with some Hogwarts student. That tends to happen when you tell a racist that he's the lowblood.


The train had been surprisingly normal. Sure, the entrance through Platform Nine and ¾ was a bit strange, but it was easily explained away through the use of holograms and selective force-fielding. Both were commonly used in the Alternian fleet.

Eridan realized he wasn't quite believing his explanations, but it was a force of habit by now.

He wondered what Fef would've thought about it-

Actually, wait, no, that's a bad place for thoughts to go. Let's think to a different spot. Let's review knowledge, that's worthy of a white scientist.

Like the passengers in this train compartment. It wasn't completely packed, and the only person he remotely knew was Harry. His two compatriots had left to go to some 'prefect meeting'. Ginny was there, but Eridan had managed to successfully brush off any conversations with her at the burrow. He looked at Neville and wow would that kid have gotten culled so hard if he were a troll.

The last one had seemed pretty unnoticeable until she started talking.

"Oh, this? This is the Quibbler. My uncle runs it!" Luna spoke. "There's an interesting side article on Nargles, and I'd suggest reading it. It's not quite as good as the runes, but some of them appear to not be quite working when I try them."

"Oh, that sounds, interesting," Ginny had awkwardly replied. Harry had kind of shifted his eyes and nodded, and Neville had let out a quiet 'Oh', and Eridan, being incredibly graceful-

"So, is that wwhy you're glubbing reading the magazine upside dowwn?" Eridan had put a quite of effort into hiding his strange accent, but it still managed to come out when he was saying things that were just plain impulsive.

"Oh, no, it's just the way the ruins are laid out. The greats who made them hid them upside to keep the Narcorns from being released, and-"

"Aren't those mythical?" Neville warily asked.

"Of course not, they are just as real as the Rotfang Conspiracy. One of you can read from my extra copy, I always have one for advertising."

Luna had such a serious grin on her face as she held out the magazine that it almost hurt.

Eridan did want to learn some powerful new spells, and if he had learned one thing from FLARPING, you often found the most useful things in the most unexpected places. Like a giant relic of your Ancestor in an old abandoned ship.

He hadn't been influenced by her blue scarf, the one that represented Ravenclaw but that Eridan knew referred to highbloodedness. Maybe Eridan had just slightly wanted to gain the approval of a highblood.

Or maybe you know, just a friend, as this one seemed slightly bearable despite being a bit strange.


The hat was on his head. The beginning of the whole Hogwarts thing had been okay – he had crossed the lake on the boat. He was pleased to see that there was a nice cornucopia of sea life. Nice magical scenery. Floating candles.

And then the sorting came.

Actually, no, it came before that. Rewind to about thirty seconds before Eridan was called up to the hat, and people were stirring in the crowd wondering why someone that looked at least fourteen years old – what were years, anyway? – was sitting among the first years getting sorted.

Eridan ignores it because he's always been used to these kinds of snickers ever since he became so romantically desperate, and he's almost over it and then, the hat. Black fabric is torn over his scalp and

There are whispers in his head. Eridan panics and it's like Mindfang except he's being forced to do it and oh god oh god oh god

-I would suggest you calm down a bit, I'm simply the Sorting Hat. I'm here to show what House you'll go in.-

Eridan calms down, but there's still a voice in his head, but now he's curious. Secretly, he's hoping for Ravenclaw, it's the most highblooded on the hemospectrum, and is surely filled with the most intelligent minds.

-I assure you, the houses are fairly equal. And you don't feel like a Ravenclaw. You do have a lot of knowledge, but most of it is from booklearning, and what we want in Ravenclaw is a good wit, the ability to think out of the box and think in ways nobody else does. –

Well, what is the hat saying then, that's he stupid?

-No, don't take it as an insult. All houses have their good aspects. You are a bit hard to narrow down. Mainly just having to dig through what is simply your culture and what is actually you.-

Just stick me into one with a good blood color, then.

-Most of them have red as a blood color. It's a human thing. If you meant something high on the hemospectrum, then yes, I almost stuck you in Slytherin, but then I saw that ambition was something common for almost all trolls in there. You didn't even go through with the whole genocide thing, despite a perfect opportunity with your friend's lusus.-

It just wasn't the right time, is all. I wanted to enjoy it, get to know them and figure out the best way of going about it.

-Why else didn't you do it?-

Well, Fef wanted me to, for once, but that's just because we're moirails, there's a bond between us. Well, was, I guess.

-Yes. And don't forget your devotion to the hemospectrum in your society.-

Whatever. A lot of highbloods have that.

-No, Feferi and Vriska and Gamzee didn't. And don't forget about that thing with joining…Bec Noir, you call him?-

No, don't you dare mention that.

-I see a bit of comradery in there, despite killing two friends. And that last part was mostly out of rage and impulsivity.-

No, stop it, don't talk about it. That doesn't have anything to do with anything I AM TRYING TO FORGET stop talking stop talking

-You wanted to bring some of them to join you in joining him, and you were willing to work for that despite that overwhelming fear you had of him.-

This is personal. Get out. Get out get out get out

-I'd say that takes a lot of loyalty, landing you in….

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The hat screamed. The tables cheered. Eridan sat on the chair, a bit more distraught than most kids look directly after the sorting. At least the hat is done, it has nothing more to say.

-I usually don't mention these kinds of things, but it seems rather important.-

No. Shut up.

-There's a small gap in your mind, and it's a bit unusual. Whether it's just your species, or that game, or something else, I can't be sure, but it might be good to have it checked out.-

Eridan threw the hat back on the stool, and strode tensely towards the Hufflepuff table.

Stupid lowwblood mustardbloods.