The Grand Hall was a strange place, illuminated by thousands of floating candles. Four long tables were laid with golden plates piled high with food, while house-elves and slave-goblins scurried hither and thither, refilling platters and topping up crystal goblets with wine. Sitting on long benches were the students, many of them grumbling about the lack of back support.

The headmaster stood, tapping his knife against his glass until the room fell into hushed silence. He spread his arms wide.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Pigswills Academy of Mature Magicians and Adult Arcanists!"

There was a smattering of applause. His audience was only half listening. Most were too focused on enjoying their first taste of roast hippogriff meat.

The headmaster continued. "Looking out at you all, I see many excited faces, many confused faces. Even a few grey hairs! For many of you, this will be your first introduction to the wizarding world. For whatever reason, education passed you by. Maybe your parents intercepted your invitation to Hogwarts or you were expelled from Clorthos. Perhaps you are simply late bloomers. Whatever the reason, it is a problem."

With a scrape of wood against stone flagstones, a four-legged chair was dragged to the center of the hall. On top of the chair was placed a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.

"It is a problem," repeated the Headmaster, "because you are adults coming into powers you should have mastered as children. You are each now too dangerous to be released back into muggle society. No doubt your minds are already turning to the dark and perverse potential of your gifts. The imperius curse on the president perhaps? A love potion on your beloved?" His keen eyes seemed to pierce the front rows judgementally. "You may hide your thoughts from me but the Reckoning Cap sees all. Our foremost duty at Pigswills is to determine what to do with you, what to make of you. The Reckoning is the first step to putting you in your place, as it will determine your house. While you are here, your house will be something like your family. You will study with them, eat with them, and sleep with them. Now, let us begin. Ashworth, Ronald."

Ronald Ashworth wiped gravy from his beard, set his napkin aside, and stood, walking between the tables to the chair. The Reckoning Cap was broad and sagging and slipped down over his eyes.

"Hmm," said a voice in his ear. "Now what do we have here? Plenty of ambition I see..."

Am I supposed to be impressed? Ronald thought. The effect could easily be replicated with a microphone in the hat's brim. And as for the hall's roof enchanted to look like the night sky - had these cretins never heard of glass? He'd worked in software development for thirty years and, in the several days he'd spent in the company of these wierdos and their 'wizarding world', he'd yet to see anything that came close to a modern smartphone.

"Cynical... Very cynical..." muttered the Reckoning Cap.

"Watch your tone, hat," Rupert snapped, annoyed to find himself talking back to a hat. "You don't want to annoy me. I've been on a few school councils in my time. I'll be running this place in a week."

"But there's talent..."

"Just put me in the house with the wealthiest students. This is a private school, yes? It isn't what you know, it's who you know. And hurry up before my dragon burger gets cold!"

"Rude too," murmured the Reckoning Cap. "I know where to put you... SKUTTERLYN!" roared the hat.

The hat seemed to grow, sinking around his head until it came to rest on his ears, which felt wider. Ronald pushed up the brim. The Grand Hall was even grander than he remembered it. He looked down. His feet waggled a feet off the ground. A pair of fishnet tights clung to his plump, emerald green thighs, though otherwise he was naked before the other students. The chair's velvet cushioned pressed against the softer cushion of his inflated rear. He gave a goblin shriek of horror. The weight of his sagging, bloated breasts pitched him forward while the tables roared with laughter. Some of the new students looked nervous.

With a wave of his wand, the Headmaster vanished the house-goblin to her place in the kitchens, his eyes twinkling with merriment behind his half-moon spectacles. "We find it convenient to put all the evil students in House Skutterlyn. Easier to keep an eye on them," he explained sagely. "Perhaps a week serving as a slave will temper her attitude."