Anderson-Belfort, Max!

This was usually the part of the movie when the Hero gathered his courage, his wits, and realized everything he'd been afraid of was actually just to make him stronger. But.

and this was a big but.
This wasn't a movie and Maxmilian Barton Anderson-Belfort wasn't the hero. He was just a messy-haired boy with a speech impediment in damp clothes, and he was absolutely and utterly terrified of that big brown hat on the stool and everything it symbolized.

Damien had promised him it didn't matter - the houses and the pomp and the stares, but Damien hadn't even been there to see Maxie off today so what did he really know? His chest burned. For a full moment after he'd been called Max only stared without moving, his feet refusing any of the signals his brain was sending - and maybe that was for the best - maybe they'd move on to the next kid and assume Maxie hadn't shown up and-

Anderson-Belfort, Max!

Or maybe'd they'd just keep calling his name for all eternity. Maxie chewed his lip, weighing his options and essentially (and more importantly) wasting time. His insides were twisting up, eyes were on him. The boy could feel the stares burning through his back like a laserbeam set to kill. He wriggled forward, eyes set hard on the floor as his body made a path through the other first years toward the stool. "It'sokayit'sokayit'sokay." Maxie muttered, clenching and unclenching his cold fists. He was trying very hard not to trip- or to breath too loudly- or to make accidental eye-contact with anyone - or to-

He sat down on the stool like he was falling onto it. Splayed limbs, Maxie took the hat and pulled it roughly onto his head before he had the chance to re-think everything and make a run for it.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And another, and just when the lanky boy was ready to rip the hat from his crown a voice spoke to him. It wasn't from a person or a voice in his head, but nor was it like a whisper in the ear. Strange, but somehow soothing. Maxie's shoulders slumped and he allowed his wide eyes to close.

Hello.

Hello, er.. Mister Hat. Weird, this was very weird.

Cautious... as was your brother. An interesting one...

Erm..

You would do well to surround yourself with the reckless.. Or the cunning.. Strong flight reflexes... but there is a determination.. A hunger to learn... Interesting...

Maxie fidgeted.

The hat carried on. There's potential there, no doubt about it. Ravenclaw would nurture that urge. But i think... it had best be.... HUFFLEPUFF.

Maxie jumped and nearly fell off the stool, his heart in his throat- the young boy hardly had the time to think on the Sorting Hat's words or his House before the applause broke and he was ushered on to the table of Yellow and Black.