I’m aware that my manners have flown out of window by now. I’m aware that I’m scowling and my mind is running a mile per hour; my internal monologue also may or may not include words that’d make mum gasp.

She’d order me to apologize.

But how could I? AN OLD TALKING HAT had decided after only two seconds that I belonged in Ravenclaw! How could it be certain? Two seconds is not enough to end what is arguably one of the biggest moments of my life.

A foreign laughter fills my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Gryffindor!”