"His hair is the exact shade"
Minerva McGonagall scowled.
"His eyes too, the same brown"
McGonagall cleared her throat pointedly. She thought it was highly inappropriate for teachers to be talking at the ceremony, but Flitwick continued his chat with Sprout oblivious.
"I think little ted is the spitting image of young Lupin ", he squeaked. McGonagall studied the young boy making his way up to the stool. Yes, he was a lot like his father. Those serious eyes, the dark hair, that determined set of his mouth. It was Remus in miniature. She watched him pull on the hat.
"I know", sprout sighed, "I really can't find Nymphadorra anywhere in him. Not a ….
"GRYFFINDOR"
Ted leapt up knocking the stool and the hat to the floor, his hair suddenly turned red and gold, as he raised his arms and pumped the air in triumph, inadvertently punching Filch who was trying to retrieve the hat.
"WHOO! NAILED IT!"
The cheer from the Gryffindor table lasted twice as long. McGonagall just stared stunned.
Beside her sprout snorted, "Found her".
