Thornton shuffled into the classroom, his slippers just slightly too big for him. He blinked once, twice, three times looking at the professor in her pajamas. He looked down at himself, either the most properly pajama'd child in history, or the tiniest, youngest looking old man.

"What on earth is a snap cup," he whispered to himself. Walking over to a pillow and staring dumbly at it for a moment - sit... on the floor?? - he set his bag down and pulled out his quill. While he considered what to put in the snap cup - still unsure what it was - he decided to start with tea.

Pouring himself a cup, he considered. What was he proud of? Father had always said, most of all, to be proud of where he came from. But after his first few days at Hogwarts, he wasn't so sure.

He walked up to the snap cup, balancing his tea in one hand. Writing quite precisely, he put the only thing that came to mind and dropped it in the cup.

And with that, he shuffled back to his cushion, settled down with his tea, and waited for more to arrive.