— ♫ ”What a wicked game to play to make me feel this way what a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you what a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way what a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you” ♫ —

You had received your letter. You had received an acceptance letter from Hogwarts a week before your eleventh birthday and you were most certainly over joyed like any other would be, you spent sleepless nights just thinking about it.

You’ve just arrived outside of the castle, walking in a line with some girls you had made friends with on the train. There is a lot of other new first year students excited to get sorted into their houses (Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff & Ravenclaw).

A professor who had introduced herself as Professor McGonagall is now leading all of the new students into the dining hall, to get them sorted. One after one you all had gotten sorted. A few of your new friends got sorted into Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw… ect. Now it was your go. The sorting hat sat on your head, speaking wisely as said to do.

“This student has strong ambition, yet so much courage. This is a hard one but I’ll say…”

The tension rises. The sorting hat listed so many traits of all the houses, giving an uneasy decision that even Dumbledore couldn’t help but quiver…

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