She sighed softly, eyeing the bright faces around her. She knew hers reflected theirs. Her distress was only visible internally. This was it – graduation day. It was the day to be excited for the end of classes and the beginning of the magical journey of the rest of their lives. It had been seven long years building up their repertoire of spells and magical ability. They had entered as children, and as society decreed, they would be leaving as adults. She didn't feel like an adult.

What happened after this? Everything had been so simple before. There were classes, and if you did well there, you earned house points. Supporting your house meant everything, and those points could win the yearly tournament. It would show that you and your surrogate family were the best. She was – had been, she guessed, a Slytherin. It had been a strange experience full of mixed feelings. She thought back on her sorting experience as the Headmistress began a commencement speech. Hearing the sorting song and coming from a magical family let her know what the houses were like. All were pretty good, and she knew she'd fit in everywhere. There was one thing that called to her however. It was the determination. It could be said that the Gryffindors were the most determined because of their stubbornness, or perhaps Ravenclaw for their dedicated studies, or Hufflepuffs for their loyalty. Those explanations would work, but ultimately determination fell to Slytherin. They were defined by their ruthlessness in doing whatever was necessary to reach their ambitions. She had known, even at that young age, that she would reach whatever it was she wanted.

Thus, she was sorted a Slytherin. Unfortunately for her, she never did figure out what she wanted. She hadn't wanted pureblood superiority, nor had she been a supporter of the Dark Lord. That had made her years difficult within her house, but not everyone had been as snobby as that snot Malfoy. She had tried out for the quidditch team, hoping to earn some pride for herself and her house. She wasn't a great flyer though, and she didn't care to become better. Instead of sports, she spent most of her free time with a few friends and a book when they weren't around. She never did feel very close to the others. There was just a connection that they lacked. That left classes which she tried to do well in, but that never worked out either. Sure, she was a brilliant witch, but grades required more than that. She needed to be able to research and memorize seemingly endless amounts of useless information. She could hardly be bothered to worry about that. Thus, all and all, her seven years at Hogwarts had proved rather unexciting. That was quite a feat considering she was just a few years younger than the famous Potter.

She looked around at her classmates once again and noted that names were being called. Luckily for her, her name was later in the alphabet. Still, not much time was left before she had to face grim reality. She'd be leaving this home. She'd be returning to her parent's small flat in London near Diagon Alley. She'd be unemployed and unsure of what to do. She had expected to be prepared for this. All those tests, all those discussions with Professor Snape about the careers available in the wizarding world, they were all for naught. She had no clue as to what she wanted to do. She vaguely remembered universities of higher magic through Europe, but with her dismal grades she doubted her ability to be accepted anywhere. There were apprenticeships available everywhere, but most had already been filled, and even then… what would she do? She had no one class that she loved above others.

She began to fidget with anxiety. This was it. The time was drawing near. What to do what to do what to do! There were her friends and her family all watching and waiting. This was the moment when everything would change. Finally, she heard the fated words.

"Thorne, Amelia"

She rose to her feet, forced a smile, and stepped forward.