“I’d have to say it’s quite lovely, really. A tribute to Original Characters...” Albus Dumbledore circled the statue once again, noting the look of panic on the Original Character’s face. An encounter with Ludo and Gilderoy, then the Basilisk...

“Methinks we ought to put it on display. Perhaps with a placard, or an engraving of some sort,” Meir Brin replied. “‘Homage to Mary Sue’, maybe?”

“In the Entrance Hall?” said Dumbledore.

“Yes. Should give the students a fright, don’t you think?” Meir Brin chuckled, taking hold of statue’s base. A fanfiction where the main character has the misfortune to run into the two perkiest people in all of Potterverse, then Riddle’s basilisk... Meir Brin would have loved to read a fic about that one.

“Ah, Meir Brin?” Dumbledore questioned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to carry it downstairs. Really, it can’t be much heavier than Elrond’s great Naturally Nine neon sign.”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “In our fandom, we often find magic to be more convenient. Wingardium Leviosa.”

The life-sized statue began to hover a few feet above the ground. “Oh. Right,” said Meir Brin. It was not the first time she had forgotten about the abundant magic at Hogwarts. Life had been more... manual... at OFUM.

And it was certainly not the first time that Meir Brin had Messed Up Big. A few hours ago a Mini-Aragog called Lockheart had shown up on the premises. Resigned to the mistake, Meir Brin had adopted the three-foot tall spider and was now resolved to be more careful about where she checked for correct spellings. Lockheart was now following her everywhere, and seemed to have developed a taste for bouillabaisse and rats, much to the discomfort of Peter Pettigrew.

Albus Dumbledore and Meir Brin reached the entrance hall with little or no mishap (Peeves had been hiding for the past two days; rumor had it that he was planning a warm welcome for the fanwriters), and placed the statue in a little alcove near the main door.

“A Tribute to Mary Sue: Homage to the Original Character,” said Dumbledore as he magically engraved the words in the statue’s base.

The Petrified Original Character stared at them with her mouth agape. Meir Brin smiled and flicked some dust off of the basilisk’s hunting trophy.

Then there was a sharp rap on the front door.

*********

Ally had been expecting a Canon Character to answer the door. Perhaps it would have been McGonagall, like in the books, or maybe even Lucius Malfoy. But she certainly hadn’t expected the person who stood in the entrance.

“Welcome to Hogwarts Fanfiction Academy, fanwriters. I’m Meir Brin, your HFA coordinator.” She was tall, and was carrying what appeared to be a riding crop. “I assume you’ve all received your letters, and have read the disclaimer?”

Ally grabbed the person next to her frantically, who happened to be Mirild Sket. “What disclaimer?”

Mirild shrugged. “I guess the one that said ‘All Injuries Are Self-Injuries’ at the top.”

Meir Brin was fumbling in one of the pockets of her vest for something. Then she pulled out a piece of paper that had been folded into triangles. “Ah, here we go. We only have two rules so far, but I assure you they will increase if you misbehave. Let’s see...

“Number One: Thou shalt not Glomp the Canon Characters. “Number Two: Thou shalt report any Original Characters that are seen Lurking about.

“Is everyone clear on that?”

“Yes...” was the less than enthusiastic reply. Stephanie Brown was especially looking downcast. She had been looking forward to giving a certain werewolf a good glomp.

“Good. Come with me. We’re going to Sort you now.”

They followed Meir Brin into the Great Hall, all whispering excitedly about the prospect of being Sorted. Redfire was chattering excitedly about being placed in Slytherin with Draco, and Vethil had begun to worry about how she would put on a hat with her hands as they were.

The Great Hall had been noticeably changed from what Ally had seen in the movie. For one, the room seemed to have been magically expanded so that it was now twice as big. The Canon Character students where seated at their own tables, while four new ones had been placed in the center. Ally looked around anxiously. Could that be him, or that one? No, no... There! Harry Potter!

Ally stopped walking. Her knees were weakening. Then they were carrying her forward before she knew what was going on. Four muffled syllables escaped her lips. “... Har... ry... Pott... err...” She was nearing the Gryffindor table, she could see his face, she was running at full speed, she dived...

WHAM!

Something big, black, and furry slammed into Ally, knocking her to the ground. She was snapped out of her trance, and saw eight big eyes glaring at her angrily.

There was a smattering of applause throughout the hall, mostly from Hagrid at the staff table. “Good boy, Sirus!” the half-giant boomed.

Ally got up dazedly and stumbled back to the group. She had thought she had more self-control than that. “Ouch...”

Meir Brin was smiling delightedly. “Tsk, tsk. Didn’t I indicate that? No glomping or the Mini-Aragogs will glomp you? I must have forgotten. I apologize.”

Ally got the distinct impression that Meir Brin had left that little note out on purpose.

“On with the Sorting,” Meir Brin said as Professor McGonagall deposited the tattered hat on a stool before them. “Pay attention, fanwriters.”

The Sorting Hat, if it had had a true face, would have looked quite smug. It opened its mouth-rip, and began to sing:

Our fandom growing darker,
your fictions screwing with our mind,
we come together finally,
to you Canon we will bind.

My function changed to flattery,
I won’t sing your praises, nay,
but four new Houses I here create,
you’ll join them now today.

I may place you in Wantingmor,
for those who live and breathe this school,
this House for those of you who wish,
this place in your world were real.

Yet some of you in Lusterbuff
will really find your niche,
this House for fangirls slobbering
at Wood’s and Remus’ feet.

Though perhaps today you’ll find,
that Canonlaw’s for you,
this House made to accommodate
those who violate The Rules.

Or maybe you’ll join Slashering,
a quickly growing section of fanfic,
though indeed if I may be candid,
Draco/Harry makes me sick.

So scoot up here and put me on,
come take a chance with me...
The Sorting Hat’s ne’r failed, you know,
to find where you ought to be.

The fanwriters looked stunned. No Gryffindor? No Slytherin? Lusterbuff?!

There was a wail from among the group. The Canon Characters and the fanwriters all turned to look at Onyx. She looked as if her birthday had been canceled. “But I want to be in—” she wailed, but was interrupted by a loud—

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” roared Mad-Eye Moody at the Staff table. “NO YELLING!”

“Ehem...” coughed Meir Brin. She glanced at Moody, who was being dragged back into his seat by Professor Sprout and Cornelius Fudge. “Shall we begin?”