Me: Well here it is my pride and joy! *sniffles*
Kelby: Ummmm, Miss Author Lady, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?
Me: This is the first story I will ever be posting on fan fiction, and I want to own Harry Potter
Kelby: And that's bad because…
Me: I just feel like being an emotional wreck okay!
Kelby: Whatev's who will do the disclaimer?
Sarita: ME ME ME!
Kelby: Get on with it then, before the author strangles us for admitting the truth.
Sarita: greensaber92 is not J.K. Rowling so she does not own Harry Potter. Anything you do not recognize, such as me and Kelby is hers!
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The Story of a Slytherin
By: Greensaber92
I walked up to that little wooden stool. A tight lipped professor was holding an old ragged hat that only a minute ago was bursting into song. Who would have thought that such a odd object would cause so much trouble, misunderstanding, and later pain.
Unlike the other wide-eyed first years that surrounded me, I wanted to act my age. One boy looked like he would faint, a girl was craning her neck to look at the stool, and a ginger was nervously looking at the Gryffindor table. Not me, the professor had just called my name. Instead of hesitantly walking to the stool, I strode over to it with a purpose, "Don't show weakness!" I told myself. The hat was placed on my head.
I crossed my legs and arms, trying to look relaxed and even bored. I was a firm believer that you had only one first impression. The first thing that came to mind as the hat sat on my head was, "Gods I hope this thing doesn't give me lice." The hat seemed to take offence to that thought. He indigently went in my head and said, "Miss Kelby Black, I can assure you that past professors have charmed me so that I will not give first year lice." If dear reader, you are staring at my name in disbelief, I can't blame you. Most people used to give me odd looks when they heard my name. I played with a strand of my choppy brown hair and replied, " Sorry Sorting Hat, would you mind answering a question for me?" the hat stayed silent so I just asked my question, "Can you see every single one of my memories?" "If I had the time to go through your brain that thoroughly, yes I could." The hat went silent again. "So Mr. Sorting Hat does that mean you can even see when I've gone to the bathroom."
This was a question I had wanted to ask the hat since I learned, at age six, that it could see all of a person's memories. The hats voice had a hint of smugness to it, ''Why yes, I can see when students have gone to the bathroom if I so wish it." I was aghast. "That's just wrong I whispered, shakily. A few thousand years old hat seeing you use the bathroom is not a lovely thought at all.
"Now to the business of sorting you, young Black." The hat said in a more professional tone. "Lets see, your mum was a Hufflepuff, our father was a Gryffindor, and you shall be a SLTYHERIN!" The last fatal word was shouted throughout the whole hall. I got off of the stool and handed the hat to a shocked professor. I frowned. Had this lady thought I would be in a different house? Maybe she taught my parents when they went to Hogwarts; maybe she thought I would be in one of their houses, not the exact opposite. Whatever the case may have been I would never find out why Professor Minerva McGonagall was so shocked until my third year. I hope dear reader you took note of the year I just mentioned, for in that year I learned many truths I didn't know existed.