The Other Sorting Hat

The alternative to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

By now, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is known throughout farthest reaches of the galaxy--or at least where ever sentient beings can actually read. Which can’t be said for all the humanoids on earth. But that’s another story. Yes, thanks to the brilliant writing of J.K. Rowling, the mysterious world of magic is now known to one and all.

The exact location of Hogwarts has always been a mystery. Even with all the books and movies we can only guess that it’s located somewhere in Scotland near a misty loch, bray, or some body of water whose pronunciation is best attempted by imitating a drunk Russian pirate trying to speak Spanish. Besides, even though it’s impossibly green, parts of Scotland can be so depressing and cold that not many go there. Hence the school has never been found.

As is often the case, there’s another side to the story. In this instance there is more than one school of magic. But the other school never gets front page press or snippets on the telly. It’s located in Wales, a place with a language so convoluted it makes Icelandic look like Pig Latin. The other school is called the Dinklebits School of Whizzbang and Tarnation. Dinklebits has existed for as long as Hogwarts. Though you might never have heard of it, many in the UK have. But they’ve long thought it to be an auto repair training school. Thus Dinklebits has hidden in plain sight for centuries—even before the invention of the gasoline engine.

Dinklebits has a relationship of sorts with Hogwarts. The school was created as an alternative for all the youngsters who applied to Hogwarts but failed to get in. Yes, there are boys and girls who receive a letter from Hogwarts via an owl on their 11^th birthday, sadly informing them that have not been accepted into the school. Undaunted, some insist on applying multiple times before receiving a “howler” from an angry school owl informing them at maximum volume that they are “Rubbish!” or “Stop bothering us!” or “Go soak your arse!” Or something to that effect. But at least the Office of Acceptance and Utter Rejection, as it’s called at Hogwarts, has the decency to suggest that the student apply to Dinklebits. After all, everyone gets accepted to Dinklebits.

The Dinklebits school is located near the remote hillside town of Llanfairpwll-gwyngyllgogerychwyrndrob—a burg with an impossibly long name even for Wales. It’s almost as if someone fell asleep with their head on the keyboard. However, there’s good news. The town is also known by a shorter name—Llanfairpwll. We’ll stick with that.

As mentioned, the townsfolk of Llanfairpwll have known about the school for centuries. They rarely give it a second thought. This despite the fact that the students are odd sorts who go around town mumbling in strange tongues and waving about drills and other power tools. But the locals tolerate and even like them because the students add to the local economy by liberal spending on junk food and graphic novels.

As at Hogwarts, first-years at Dinklebits must go through a sorting into one of four houses. Likewise, the ceremony of sorting involves an old hat being placed on the student’s head. At Hogwarts it’s an ancient talking pointy witch’s hat. At Dinklebits the hat is an enormous brightly colored sombrero that one of the faculty picked up on a holiday in Mexico during a night of tequila-fueled revelry.

The sombrero, known by the faculty and students as “El Supremo,” is placed on a first-year student’s head. After a time, as El Supremo often takes far longer than its counterpart at Hogwarts, the all-knowing sombrero calls out the name of one of the four houses that the student will join. The four houses are:

·      Mimblewimble

·      Stebert

·      Pressed Rat

·      Numchuk

Here is further information on the four houses:

Mimblewimble: Students from the Mimblewimble house are the wallflowers of the incompetent wizard and witch world. They ply their fractured magic quietly in the background because it almost never works. They are often seen in the corner at a family or social gatherings quietly muttering to themselves desperately trying to apparate to somewhere else—anywhere. However, their skewed incantations rarely if ever work. That’s probably a good thing. Instead, silver teaspoons are often found missing after the fact. They usually turn up in the student’s handbag and eventually at pawnshops. Sadly, Mimblewimbles are often the poorest students.

Stebert: Students in the Stebert house are the massively incompetent overachievers of the magic world. They work at their flawed spells and potions with a vengeance. Steberts are also known for blowing up classrooms on a regular basis with their inept use of curses. By now, the townsfolk of Llanfairpwll are used to the occasional commotion thinking that the kids over there at the school are working on some kind of new crankshaft. Despite their inherent incompetence, Steberts can be alarmingly effective when turned loose into society after graduating. Train derailments, traffic light failures, and power outages are all their domain.

Pressed Rat: Students from the Pressed Rat house are known for their sly demeanor and endless plotting against the school, students in other houses, and even the weather. Pressed Rats are born schemers—they’re just really bad at it. Their so-called secret conclaves become common knowledge in short order because they insist on communicating using social media. After graduating, students from the Pressed Rat house end up in billing and records for public utilities and medical insurance companies as well as corporate attorneys.  

Numchuck: Students in the Numchuk house can best be described by the phrase “slow in thought but a great dancer.” Numchuks are usually the most handsome and/or prettiest of the Dinklebits students. They are further known for a combination of brash confidence and utter incompetence. Numchuck students often end up as the CEO’s of companies that repeatedly fail or as politicians. Boris Johnson is one of the most famous Numchuck alums.

In the end, imagine a school of magic, witchcraft, and wizardry entirely populated with the likes of the above. The results are, in a word, chaos. So beware the Dinklebits graduates. They walk among us.