Just breathe, Harry Dursley thought as he walked up the steps towards the sorting hat breathe, breathe, breathe. Realizing he was slouching, Harry squared his shoulders and straitened his posture. He kept his eyes forward and tried to forget about the hundreds of eyes staring at him. He had only heard a small bit from Albus, James, Scorpius and Rose on the train about the sorting.
Where will I be? He thought over and over. He was very curious about things, so that might mean he was a Ravenclaw. He was a patient person who never liked to be mean, so that could put him in Hufflepuff. Harry wasn't the Gryffindor type; he wasn't brave and didn't like to stand out or be noticed much. Slytherin though intrigued him a little. He wasn't very cunning, though he was smart. He was, however resourceful. And he would get to be with Albus and Scorpius who seemed to be very friendly. His dad though, no doubt would have been a Slytherin if he had been magic. As his mind wandered he realized that he had absent mindedly sat down and was now being sorted. Before long the hat settled. It opened its mouth-ish thing saying one word.
Slytherin.