Why the soddin' hell would you even want to?" asked Graham, a mulish look on his face. "Go fuck around with the other firsties, why don't ya?"
The girl's face hadn't changed beyond her eyes widening before, but it somehow now appear stony and determined.
"Wanna sit here," she insisted. "Please."
"Get lost!" Lucian jeered.
"Please."
Marcus started, "Kid—"
"Pleeeaase."
Marcus made a sound of annoyance.
"Oh, why the ruddy hell not?" he said, to the bother of his friends. He jerked his head in acquiescence. "Knock yourself out, midget."
The girl's face lit up, a bright expression Marcus had never seen directed at him. Without hesitation, she scurried from the doorway and climbed into the spot right next to Marcus, her face open and wondering. The bag she had slung over her shoulder was set beside her as she huddled up to him.
"The hell?" Marcus took in the girl all but clinging to his arm.
His friends snickered at his expression.
"I'm Heri," she said, peering up at him, finally blinking.
"Marcus Flint," Marcus replied. "Now back off before I break your face in."
Proving herself as the most contrary creature in existence, the girl actually scooted closer and wrapped her skinny arms around his forearm. She held on tightly and gazed at him with a serious expression he couldn't take seriously considering she was about as threatening as dairy-free milk.
"I like you," she declared. "When I grow up, let's get married."
There was disbelieving silence between the three boys.
"She's insane," Lucian decided at last. "It's the only thing that makes sense."
"I'm not!" the girl huffed, the beginning of a pout on her lips.
In a fit of insanity, Marcus thought the look was quite cute on her. He immediately crushed such a thought of course.
"The hell you're not!" Lucian retorted. "Why else would you be proposing to the owner of this mug?"
She gained a stubborn look, pulling Marcus' arm into her chest.
"He's big, and strong, and can keep me all safe. It doesn't matter if he's pretty or not; being pretty will be my job."
Marcus tried to yank his arm back but ended up dragging the girl along with it. Damned obstinate chit.
"What about all that gender equality thing girls are always harping on about?" Lucian asked, too amused to be annoyed any longer. "'I don't need any man!' Or whatever? My sisters won't shut up about it."
"Mine too," said Graham.
The girl glowered.
"Didn't say I needed him. Said I want him. Any girl that says she doesn't want to be taken care of is a liar."
"Who cares about all that?" bellowed Marcus. He glowered at the girl hanging onto him like a limpet. "Save your proposals for someone else; I'm not interested in flat-chested little brats that don't even know how to hold their wands yet! You want a boyfriend? Go ask someone closer to your own age!"
She frowned and looked at her chest. She was still as flat as a boy.
"I'll grow," she said earnestly. "I'm not asking for right now, I want you for when I grow up."
"Fuck off," Marcus growled.
The opinionated little bitch pinned him with a dewy-eyed look that put baby unicorns to shame.
"Don't send me away," she said. "I just wanna stay with you."
Well, hell. How was he supposed to be a bastard when she said things like that? That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.
Marcus groaned heavily and rubbed his face with his free hand.
"Soddin', fuckin' . . . Whatever," he said finally. "Just sit there and keep your trap shut and you can stay."
Lucian and Graham's amused expressions told Marcus exactly what they thought of him bending to the whims of an eleven-year-old. Well, fuck them. If they had the dubious pleasure of the girl's insistent attentions, they'd learn to compromise as well.
The three boys fell back into their previous conversation, purposefully overlooking their newest addition. With luck, the girl would get distracted by something at school before too long.
Heri watched the rest of the Sorting politely from her seat at the Hufflepuff table. She thought it was rather unmannerly of them to pause the process for so long just to get a good amount of gaping at her in. Honestly, there were other people to get situated and hungry people waiting for their dinner; gawking at celebrities could be put on hold for later.
She had had an interesting conversation with the Sorting Hat. It said things like "Haven't had one like you in a while!" and "Hmmm, two parts of your nature are very contradicting." Harry hadn't understood why such a simple thing as deciding her most defining character trait was taking so long and had prayed to Janus, god of decision-making, for the Hat to make its choice swiftly.
"Oh-ho!" the Hat had chortled. "You give veneration to a pantheon of gods accepted as mythology. Now, what does that say about you?"
Heri had frowned. She didn't care much either way what was thought to be true or false, especially concerning where she sent her prayers since she had plenty of reason to believe. Hadn't her guardian spirit told her to send her requests for divine intervention and thanks to Olympus? She wasn't about to be a good-for-nothing ingrate and deny such a simple request from someone who had always been kind to her!
"Ah, I see now. You are steadfast in your convictions and loyalties. Such strength of character to follow through on your word might have sent you to Gryffindor, but I can tell now that you'll be best served in HUFFLEPUFF!"
Since then, Heri had been caught up in the process of politely convincing her new Housemates that they were all better off paying attention to the unsorted first-years. So far, she had average results.
She smiled awkwardly at the overenthusiastic brunette talking her ear off and tilted her head as a sign that she was listening. Really, Heri didn't know what to say in response to the girl chattering on a mile a minute at her, but thankfully only the barest hint of attention was required to appease the other girl, Megan Jones.