Letters from Pigfarts Ch. 3

*~|SWEARING AHEAD!|~*


Chapter 3- Arriving



Francis plopped down on the seat next to you and you scooted closer to Matthew. "Mon ami, you never told us you were going to Hogwarts! Ohohoho~"

Quickly, you smacked him and moved across to the other row. Gilbert, nonetheless, sat next to you. "Frau, you have so much to learn! All the toilet seats we can send to Matthew!" he says.

"Um, I'm right he-"

"OHMAIGAWD I WISH HE COULD GO HERE!!" Francis wailed dramatically. You rolled your eyes and threw Matthew an exhausted look.

"I told you, you tomato bastard, I'm not wearing the damn robes!"

You raised an eyebrow as a familiar Spaniard and Romano's voice echoed through the train. Romano slid the door open with a nasty glare and crossed his arms as he landed on the seat next to you.

"Ciao, ragazza." he said with a scowl. "'Sup Lovi," you say, resting your chin on your palm, preparing for more chaos.

You mentally groaned as Antonio sprinted into the compartment. "Lovi, you have to!" he pleaded. "Die in a hole, bastard." he growled. "TONY." Gilbert and Francis say in unison.

Antonio gave Gilbert and Francis looks as if he hadn't seen them for eons.

"FREUNDE!"

"MON AMI!"

"AMIGOS!!!"

Thankfully, they continued their 'reunion' in a separate cabin. "Have you met Lovi?" Antonio said, grabbing Romano and pushing him in Francis' arms. "Ohohohoho~"

"AHHHH! SAVE ME!"

With that, they were no longer within earshot. "Peace," Matthew says, sinking in his seat. "Don't look now," you warned as your (e/c) orbs followed an American, flanked by several other boys.

"YO!! Matt! ________! These are some friends I want you to meet!" the American practically yelled, shoving aside the compartment's sliding door.

Groaning, you and Matt sank (farther) into the velvety seats of the train. Matt curled up in the corner, staring outside at the passing land. You did the same, curling up near the window.

"Hello again, _________." Ivan and Arthur say in unison, sitting next to Matt. Matt whimpered at the sight of the huge Russian boy, glad Arthur was there to make some barrier between him and Ivan.

"Ni hao." said a boy with a dark ponytail. You waved, then returning to your thoughtful gaze out of the window.

Alfred interrupted your thoughts, practically yelling as he sat down next to you. "That's Yao." You silenced whatever he was going to say next by clapping a hand over his mouth.

"Dude. No hablo inside voice?" you say with a sarcastic gleam in your eyes. "Inside voice? What am I, Matthew?" he said, shrugging. "Where did that bloody frog go?" Arthur frowns.

"Francis?" Ivan asked. "Yeah, whatever." Arthur muttered. "Francis went off to bitch with Romano and the BTT." you said in a bored monotone. "Why am I not surprised." Arthur says sarcastically.



|TIMESKIP|



Nervously, you fisted bunches of your robes in your hands. Remembering what Yao had told you earlier, you told yourself not to worry.

"It's not uncommon to be sorted after age eleven."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Yao sunk in his seat and shrugged. "Not anymore. I was sorted two years ago and I'm fifteen." he said.

"What about the years? Does that mean I'm going to be a year one?" you asked nervously. Ivan laughed. "Nonsense, devushka. Of course not."

"You'll be sorted into a house then put into the year you should be. So you're fifteen?" Arthur says. You nod. "You'll be in year five, then."

Your name being announced, you were snapped out of your reminiscence.

"____________ __________."

Your legs shaking, you approached the stool and sat down. Wrapping your black Chuck Taylors around the stool's legs, the hat was set on your head. You closed your eyes.

"Well, well, well, what have we got here?" it said. You were tempted to jump straight out of the stool at the event of a talking hat being placed on your head, but you resisted.

"Scared, aren't we?"

Shut up, you dildo bar.

"Ooh, feisty, NEVERMIND." it remarked amusingly.

Just sort me already, you turd ball.

"I am now tempted to sort you into Slytherin, little girl." it snapped. It regained its composure. "Hmm, your bravery is outstanding. Chivalrous, might I say."

You could already imagine Alfie jumping and squealing in his seat at the Gryffindor table.

"But-"

Jesus Christ, for the love of God-

"Alright, alright! Don't make me have to get the Scarf of Sexual Preference." it muttered.

"GRYFFINDOR!"