A few more names were called, then finally-

“Weasley, Rose.”

This was it. Her symbol of the freedom and independence that she so desperately craved. It was time to go be an adult.

 “I don’t think I could ever fit in here,” she said both to her father and thinking aloud as the lift glided up the floors smoothly.

“Of course you won’t. I didn’t raise my Rosie to blend in, I raised her to be different and make things brighter just by being unique and genuine. Don’t worry about a thing like that. What you should be worrying about is knowing how to talk about yourself for an hour, which must be such a hard thing to do.”