I felt Kyle looking at me. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“No I’m not okay. There are so many things about me that are not okay.”
Just as he opened his mouth to say something back, my own name was called.
“Amber,” Kevin yelled, before giving me a little smile and a “cooey” wave. I scowled back at him and dodged over the kids like they were a minefield.
No good could come of the next five minutes. Whatever happened, all of my childhood dreams would be ruined.
If I didn’t get into Gryffindor, then, well, I would probably need to cry quietly somewhere without anyone seeing. If I did get in, then I’d be stuck working alongside Melody for the rest of the summer – listening to her drone on about how many people she’d slept with at college, which she’d already done, twice so far. Mum gave me a big beaming smile but I scowled again. I was aware of the whole circle watching, and felt my face glow red.
I hated people looking, they always looked.
The drab hat hovered over my head.
I closed my eyes, just like Harry Potter did, waiting…
“Dumbledore’s Army,” Mum yelled.
My eyes flicked open to everyone clapping politely. So many little branches inside of me died right there.
She hadn’t put me in Gryffindor.
My own mother hadn’t sorted me into Gryffindor.
This was even worse than removing Slytherin as a team.
The tightness caught in my throat and I blinked several times, fighting the tears that had been hiding so well in my soul, waiting for this summer with Mum to come out.
I couldn’t even turn back to look at her cheering behind me. I was scared – if I did, I would turn her to stone.
Russ’s loud whooping pulled me out of my sob-spiral.
“Woooooo, Amber! You’re with me!” He held out his hand and dragged me over. His genuine excitement about spending the summer with me filled the hole a tiny bit. I launched myself at him, wrapping him into a fierce hug – not letting go until it was beyond appropriate.
“We’re the dream team,” he yelled into my ear, hugging me back. I’d never really hugged a boy before, and Russ was definitely a good place to start.
We broke apart.
“Dumbledore’s Army, eh?” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I know, stupid, isn’t it? What’s wrong with Slytherin? Snape was the bravest one of all.”
And, just for that, I hugged him again.
Another boy, a mate of Wayne’s, had been sorted by the time we broke apart. He strode into Ravenclaw, saying: “What the heck is a Ravenclaw?”
I saw Whinnie in the crowd – she waved, before pulling her lips down into a sad face. Getting it. Only my friend for three days and yet totally getting it. Kyle watched too and I waved, but he didn’t wave back. He had that weird look on his face that I’d noticed before – all grim and determined. To be fair, I had spent most of the evening swearing under my breath next to him. Maybe my bad mood had jumped off me and onto him, like nits?
We watched as more of the team got sorted. They kept it quick, knowing the kids would be impatient for their turn. You could feel them thrumming with anticipation, quivering in their places on the forest floor, waiting for their turn in the spotlight.
Whinnie was up next. She struggled to get over the logs with her short legs. Though, just like Melody, she walked without self-consciousness.
“Dumbledore’s Army!”
“Yes!!!! Go, Whinnie,” we yelled, pulling her in for a hug. We jumped up and down, pulling in the two others who’d been allocated into our group. Some blond guy called Damien who wore an actual WWJD bracelet. And another girl, Bryony, who’d been in Melody’s Pussycat Dolls dance. She was a brunette version of Melody – all legs and shiny hair. And I was about to judge her, when she said: “I’m so mad they got rid of Slytherin, I mean, Snape was, like, the best one,” as she walked over, and I learned a lesson about not judging people until you’ve found out whether or not they’ve read Harry Potter.
Kyle was the second-last to be called and my breath caught in my throat. He threw us an anxious smile but glided down towards the fire. I got the sense that Kyle would get put into whatever group he wanted – that’s just how his life worked. I wondered what group he wanted to be in.
I wanted him to be in our group. I guess I liked torturing myself like that.
Mum lowered the hat once more. “Dumbledore’s Army,” she called and Kyle breathed a real, genuine smile – one that crinkled up the corners of his wide brown eyes.
“Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” we called.
“Welcome to the winning team, brother.” Russ high-fived Kyle as he scuttled over. He high-fived back and then grinned at Whinnie and me. “So here we are. The only not-real house at Hogwarts.”
“When the kids get annoying, can we shove them into the Room of Requirement?” I joked, and they all laughed.
The excitement built as the children began their sorting. They practically hovered off the logs, waiting for their turn. At least two cried when they didn’t get into Gryffindor.
“You should’ve seen it last year when we still had Slytherin,” Russ told me. “Utter freakin’ carnage.”
“That is still no excuse for erasing it as a house.”
“I know. Jeez, I know.”
It was cute though, seeing the kids cheer when they got into our team. We started making an arch with our hands whenever someone got in, getting them to run under it as we chanted their name. We were already the “fun team”, even when the others began copying. Kyle stood opposite me, so we had to hold hands each time we got a new arrival. It made my fingers tingle and my palms sweat. And sometimes we locked eyes when a kid ran beneath us and I didn’t want to look away.
He started talking to me in snatches, whenever we leaned together to welcome in a new recruit.
“Your mom,” he said. “She gave me a strike for helping you today.”
I widened my eyes. At training we’d been told staff discipline operated on a three-strikes-and-you’re-out policy, and they seemed pretty hard to get in the first place. “Seriously? But I, like, really needed you.”
The chocolate girl – Jenna – ran under our arms, screaming with utter joy – her little legs almost going too fast for her body to catch up. We broke apart and jumped up and down, whooping like Indians (Russ said it was okay to use the word “Indians” when you were whooping like the ones in Peter Pan. He was our lecturer in Native American political correctness), getting the kids riled up. We waited for another recruit to be announced before we spoke again.
“Hank, Dumbledore’s Army!”
A tall, scrawny boy with thick-rimmed glasses beamed at us and ran over. Kyle grabbed for my hand, quickly, so we could form the arch before Hank reached us. Once again, my entire body lit up like electricity.
“Is there…something wrong with her?” Kyle asked. I accidentally squeezed his hand to steady myself.
“Isn’t there something wrong with everyone?”
“That’s a philosophical answer to a pretty straight-forward question.”
“I’ve been hanging out with Whinnie all day. She is teaching me the philosophy of Pooh.”
“Ahh.”
Hank ran under us and Kyle let go of my hands, just as quickly as he’d taken them. Whinnie had started a new celebration, where we put each new recruit into our circle and galloped around them – the circle getting bigger and bigger as we acquired more campers. So I danced around Hank, my bare feet smushing into the cool dusty earth of the forest floor.
There were two more Hufflepuffs, then another Gryffindor. Then, “Dumbledore’s Army!”
Kyle’s hands found my hands. Kyle’s eyes found my eyes.