Somehow, despite having two elder sisters at Hogwarts for years now, Hermia had never thought to ask what the sorting ceremony entailed. She'd heard whispers of a hat while on the train, but didn't think much of it—she'd packed her own hat, thank you very much, and wouldn't need one issued by the school. It only now dawned on her that she'd taken everything out of context.
The Sorting Hat (as she now realized was its name) was singing at full volume as it sat perched atop the stool at the front of the Great Hall, but all Hermia could think was that a hat so self-aware and lively must have been aware of how tattered and worn it looked. Could it not have asked for a cleaning or two? A better patching job? If she'd been tasked with watching after it, it would've looked no different from any other hat. No ugly patching, no crooked stitches, no unseemly tilting at the tip.
It seemed, though, that the Hat either cared little about its appearance. It commanded the room's attention with each booming proclamation it made, passing judgment on each student until it came to her name.
Pucey, Hermia.
At last it was her turn—and so, abandoning her twin sister's side, she approached the stool.
✿ - ✿ - ✿
The Sorting Hat (as she now realized was its name) was singing at full volume as it sat perched atop the stool at the front of the Great Hall, but all Hermia could think was that a hat so self-aware and lively must have been aware of how tattered and worn it looked. Could it not have asked for a cleaning or two? A better patching job? If she'd been tasked with watching after it, it would've looked no different from any other hat. No ugly patching, no crooked stitches, no unseemly tilting at the tip.
It seemed, though, that the Hat either cared little about its appearance. It commanded the room's attention with each booming proclamation it made, passing judgment on each student until it came to her name.
Pucey, Hermia.
At last it was her turn—and so, abandoning her twin sister's side, she approached the stool.
- They have a whole week of unlimited resources and freedom.
- What do they think their animagus form would be?
- A classmate answers a professor's question correctly but the professor mistakenly thinks your character was the one that spoke and awards you their house points.
- Someone they want to be friends with suggests doing something they're uncomfortable with.
Is it silly to say I'm content at home? Maybe I would buy a hundred different spindles of thread and practice new designs without being interrupted by Miss [Governess] or Mama. I don't normally mind the bustle of the house, but I do think being able to sit in peace would be nice. That would only take a day, though, and I've been offered a whole week! Maybe I will ask my friends if they'd like to take a trip somewhere. To London? Or maybe Paris—the maids say it's the most cultured place in Europe. I would buy a pamphlet of all the best things to do there and hire a chaperon who's entirely at my command! That way we can do whatever we want, but none of us would get in trouble! Once we've seen everything we'd want to see, I'd spend my last day at the local sweet shop and buy one of everything (I'd share with Demetria if she asked nicely, but Lysandra and Polly would be on their own).
Probably a butterfly. Even better if it was like the ones in our garden. I like the idea of being able to flit around with ease. I could go places and nobody would ever find out!
I'd speak up immediately. Firstly, it's wrong to claim credit when I did nothing. Secondly, everyone around me would be staring right at me, and I don't think I could handle being so poorly thought of.
I'd try to reason with them at first, I think. It depends on what it is. Is it something that's fun but I'm uncomfortable because I think I'm not allowed to do it? I don't like getting in trouble, but it's all about the risk versus the reward. If it's something dangerous, or something I want absolutely no part in, then I have no problem telling them no. I think I'd soften the blow by suggesting we do something else, or promise to do it in the future if I think I can think of a better way of getting out of it later.