 Pottielot? Yeahhh, Mr White! Yeah science!
Gryffindor?
Tom was pleased.
Not because he had been sorted into the cool, brave house, but because it meant he had won a bet with his older brother. Freddie was CONVINCED Thomas would be a Slytherin.. but he was wrong, and now he owned the lad a nice cool twenty quid.
If only he knew how Slytherin his thoughts were. 
The hat was removed from his head and he stood, and with his shoulders hunched, and his hands in his pockets, he swaggered (yes swaggered, which was slightly amusing given the lad's height and age: he looked just like a mini Freddie) his way over to the house with the red banners and lions, eyes narrowing on his as housemates his gaze swept across the table to look at them all. There woz blaady loads of 'em!
Would he fit in at all?
...Did he care?
Of course the lad cared. He was the same as all the other kids here: just wanting to be accepted and some friends. A task which may be easier said than done...
Tom wasn't the most gracious of people. He didn't really LOOK like anyone else here. His head was shaved and he had a slightly deprived look about him. His robes were tattier than the other kids who looked rosy cheeked and well groomed and fed. And to top it off, he was a late bloomer. Thirteen years of age and he'd only just got his invite to Hogwarts. Acceptance would be harder for him than for most of the first years who were all in the same boat.
He took a seat towards the top end of the table nearest the door to the Great Hall. He gave the person next to him a small, awkward smile before his eyes went to the food. Blaady 'ell! They could just eat as much as they wanted!? He quickly reached out for a plate, more interested now in the food than the other kids.
Wot to 'av first?
__________________  |