"Being Sorted into Hufflepuff"
-The Haiku Epic
(From Slytherin House)
What do I do now?
Sorted into Hufflepuff,
My life is over.
/
We march down the hall,
Eyes to the ground in sadness.
We're sad to be Puffs.
/
I am not cunning,
Nor noted as brave or smart.
What are Hufflepuffs?
/
It's the House left over.
What is here for us rejects?
We have reached the dorm.
/
Our password is lame:
It's Puff the Magic Dragon.
I sigh gloomily...
/
Kitschy common room:
Kitten posters coat the walls,
One smiles at me.
/
There is shag carpet,
Many clumps of plush pillows,
Lava lamps cast shadows.
/
Where the fuck are we?
This place isn't so awful...
It's kind of groovy.
/
We meet our House Head
Wonder why they call her "Sprout."
She smells peculiar.
/
She extolls the Puffs.
I'm getting depressed again...
But wait, what is that?
/
She holds out a bag.
She waves her wand around thrice.
Her eyes beam at us.
/
Older students stir.
Sprout passes around the bag.
It is passed to me.
/
It smells like Prof. Sprout
In it, there are many...wands?
They are leafy green.
/
A lighter is passed.
Older students light their wands.
...which may not be wands...
/
I light mine also.
Others Huff and Puff lit wands.
I understand now.
/
Why we're Hufflepuff!
Our name! We all Huff the Puff!
It makes sense: Prof. Sprout.
/
We feel better now,
About our Hufflepuff-ness.
I smile at the cat.
/
Sprout plays her guitar.
The cushions are soft—like clouds.
We sing as she plays.
/
The room is cozy.
Smoke tendrils swirl through the room.
Like patronuses.
/
I start seeing things.
Puff the magic dragon comes.
He offers me pie.
/
Singing's fun and all,
But my stomach is growling.
The sounds join our song.
/
Something else 'bout us:
We are next to the kitchen.
It all makes sense now!