Chapter Text
“Pevensie, Peter!”
Peter steps out of the rapidly thinning crowd of First Years, determined not to show his fear. He’s the oldest, the first of his siblings to set foot in this strange new world. Mum and Dad are counting on him to explore it, to make sure it is safe before Susie, Eddie and Lu join him in it.
For they will be joining him. How can they not be, with the way Susie can make balls of light hover in her room so that she can read all night long without Mum or Dad finding out?
The way Eddie can take the lid off the biscuit tin and steal enough sweets to fill his pockets to bursting, even when he’s all the way across the kitchen?
The way Lucy lies on the tiger skin rug before the fire, stroking its head and talking to it as though it’s alive. Why, Peter has heard the beast purr and growl back at his baby sister half a dozen times.
These thoughts carry him the length of the floor to the rickety three-legged stool at the head of the room.
A tall, willowy man with sparkling plum-coloured robes embroidered with silver shooting stars smiles down at him and places a tattered pointy hat over his head. It slides over his eyes, plunging him into darkness.
Peter draws a breath, but a second later, a voice sounds in his ear.
“Well, hello, Master Peter. How nice to meet you.”
“It’s n-nice to m-meet you, t-too, Mister –“ Peter stammers, hoping he hasn’t jumped too much.
A low chuckle rings through his head, “Oh, don’t worry. No one can hear us talking. Dear Helga saw to that. She said it wouldn’t be fair if everyone knew exactly how I’d chosen the children’s Houses. She said it would colour their ideas of people they’d never met. And you understand that, don’t you, Master Peter? Fairness is important to you, isn’t it?”
“Well, of course it is,” Peter replies, surprised to hear a grown-up question such a thing (he supposes the Hat must be a grown-up, for they wouldn’t ask another child to choose one’s House) “Dad says you ought to treat everyone the same, no matter who they are.”
“A wise man, your father,” Hat hums, before seeming to nod and fall silent. Peter isn’t sure how he knows the Hat has nodded, but somehow he does.
A moment passes in silence before Hat speaks again.
“Well, you’re very like your father, Master Peter. I pray to the Four you never lose that sense of justice. You ought to be able to keep it burning bright in – HUFFLEPUFF!”
A quarter of the room erupts in applause and Peter rips the hat off his head to see the table with yellow ties, cuffs and badges cheering wildly. He jumps to his feet, before pausing bashfully. He hasn’t been dismissed yet.
The auburn-haired man smiles down at him and gives him a little push.
“Off you go, Master Peter.”
“Yes, Sir,” Peter hands the hat back and then runs off towards the cheering table.
His chest warms as he goes, and he glances down to find his cuffs, tie and badge have turned a warm honey colour.
He smiles to see it. So, he’s a Hufflepuff, is he? He can’t wait to find out what that really means…and to find out which houses his sisters and brother will be in when their turns come.