Disclaimer: Belongs to JKR, except for Maisie Wilkins. If Maisie had belonged to JKR, she would have come between Ron and Blaise Zabini in the Sorting in Philosopher's Stone – she didn't because I made her up. Maisie is the name of Matt and Beth Redman's daughter (their son is called Noah and he's so ickle and cute), which I kind of liked. I would have picked a canon Hufflepuff for her, but she's an OC and deserves an original name. Enjoy. Oh yes, and Marguerite is kind of mine, although I ripped her off of Baroness Orczy's 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' because it's kinda funny to see her with someone called Percy.

***

Confessions of an Attention Seeking Hufflepuff

Chapter 1

**

"Do wizards have singers?" I asked my mother, as she and Madam Malkin fussed over my robes.

"Now dear, you'll probably lose interest in all that," Mum began, but Madam Malkin interrupted her.

"Of course they do, dear. Celestina Warbeck – and the Weird Sisters. You'll have to get a Wizard's Wireless."

"Do you think Hogwarts have a choir?"

Singing was the only thing I was certain I could do. The plan for my life had been simple when I decided that I'd get my GCSEs and go to Music School. But then I discovered there was one other thing I could do – magic. I should have guessed when I was breaking glasses at Middle C.

Help me.

"I want to do musicals," I said in a small voice.

"I'm sure wizards have musicals," Mum muttered offhandedly, as I changed.

**

Singing, musicals, and my Muggle friends were my life when I was eleven. Who wants to be a Muggleborn witch? Apart from Hermione Granger, that is. Anyway, I had growing pains. Serious ones.

"I don't want to be a witch," I wailed at dinner one day.

"Maisie, you are a witch," Mum said. "There's nothing you can do about it."

"It's a talent," Dad pronounced. "You're always saying you wish you had more talent at schoolwork." True, I wasn't that great at school. But there was only one thing I wanted to be good at.

"I've got one talent and it's the only talent I want!"

**

"Maisie Wilkins."

"Percy Weasley. You're a first year?"

"That's right."

Percy was sort of cute. How old was he, sixteen? Red hair. Looking Rather Mature. Prefect.

"Well, Maisie, do you have any questions about life at Hogwarts?"

"Does it have a choir?"

He looked taken aback. "No… I don't think so."

Great. I would have willingly given my magical powers to any Squib (I knew what they were, I bought a book called A Guide for Muggleborns, the only book I hadn't skim-read) just at that moment.

Percy looked eager. He seemed sort of sweet.

"What about the classes? How do they decide which classes we're in?"

"Ah… Well, you'll be Sorted into your house. Either Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor – that's meant to be the house for the brave and noble of heart…"

I didn't feel brave. At all. I'm not brave, in fact. I let him rattle on for hours. A bushy haired girl next to me was hanging on his every word.

"What about the others?" I asked lazily.

"Oh!" He snapped out of his reverie. "Well… Ravenclaw is for the clever and quick-witted."

"Not me," I told him, shortly.

He smiled. "Slytherin – that's cunning and ambitious…"

Now that sounded like me. Even if his expression darkened as he said it, it did sound like the place where I belonged. I grinned.

The door to the compartment burst open. "Percy!" A blonde girl whose robes had matching insignia to Percy's.

"Oh… hello, Marguerite. Just talking to a couple of first years. This is Maisie, and this is Hermione."

"Hello!" She bounced in. "What was Prefect Percy telling you about?"

"The houses," Hermione volunteered. "Gryffindor sounds like the best."

I wondered. Did Hermione fancy Percy? Probably not…

Marguerite beamed. "It is. Better than Slytherin – you know that's where all the dark wizards come from?"

I didn't really want to hurt Marguerite's feelings, but that sounded like prejudice to me. She turned to Percy. "Harriet Lafayette tried to hex me at the station – can you believe that?"

"What's wrong with being cunning and ambitious?" I asked softly.

They all stared at me. Percy's expression said, We've lost her.

"Slytherins usually break lots of rules. And Professor Snape – their head of house – he favours them above the rest of us."

"Well… I don't agree with that," I said thoughtfully. "What about Hufflepuff?"

Marguerite giggled. "Duffers."

"They're friendly, loyal and hardworking," Percy said fastidiously. He looked suspicious when my smile returned.

"They have a whole house of nice people? That sounds good."

Marguerite was staring at me like I'd gone mad. A boy came to the door.

"Have you seen my toad? I've lost it…"

**

"Hmm, not Gryffindor or Ravenclaw – you're perfect Slytherin material although you're Muggleborn…"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"You'll find out," the Sorting Hat murmured. "If you're willing to make up stories about your wizard parents, I can put you in there anyway – that's happened before, you know."

"I don't suppose they have a choir?"

"Slytherin are rather artsy, but I doubt it."

"Frankly I'd like to be in Hufflepuff. No matter what Marguerite says, it must be nice to be surrounded by friendly and loyal people. But I can take Slytherin, I could probably say I'm adopted or something…"

"Hufflepuff, eh? Wouldn't be my first choice but you have an aptitude for Helga's house."

"Just place me, OK? People are starting to stare."

They were, actually. It was taking a terribly long time, almost as long as Neville Longbottom. Harry Potter (whom I gathered was quite famous, what was he, a pop star?) had taken quite a long time too. Apparently the whole Houses thing was a big deal, I noticed a large girl called Millicent practically praying before she was put in Slytherin. Looked like her prayer was answered. The bushy haired girl, Hermione, she was in Gryffindor.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Cheers broke out from the Hufflepuff table. I smiled towards them. Somehow I couldn't see myself as a Hufflepuff, but it was better than Gryffindor (Percy had got a little insufferable after a while…) and better than Slytherin, because no one would expect me to turn evil. They were all very welcoming, sure, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was only here because I'd asked the Sorting Hat to put me here…

**

Got all that? Singing – not wanting to be a witch – Slytherin – Hufflepuff? Good. So I, Maisie Wilkins, am a Hufflepuff. No, I'm not. I'm a Slytherin dressed in Hufflepuff clothing… Sigh… But although I'm one of them, I hate the Slytherins. The ones I know, anyway. Stupid Malfoy. In fact, I'm sure most of the Slytherins are all right (what's wrong with being cunning and ambitious anyway?) but listening to Malfoy go on about Mudbloods gets a little tiring.

It wasn't that I didn't like the Hufflepuffs. They're a good bunch of people, very tolerant, compassionate and all that. But I don't deserve to be there.

**

I was an August baby – I think I was the youngest person in my year – and on my fifteenth birthday, in the middle of the summer holidays, I was having a long, pondering think about being a witch, a singer, and a Hufflepuff.

I did have friends at Hogwarts, in the sense that I had people who'd help me with my homework and chat to me during lessons, but I didn't have friends, people I'd share my deepest darkest secrets with, people I'd eat midnight feasts with and talk about my dreams. I was reasonably good at magic, doing well in Charms, Potions and Transfiguration, even though I was pretty naff at Herbology and awful at History of Magic. I suspected Professor Binns had bored himself to death. Care of Magical Creatures was OK, although who couldn't be good at looking after Flobberworms? My other option was Muggle Studies, which I took because I wouldn't have to do any work, plus it did at least seem more honest than Divination. In any case, I was better known for constantly cheeking my teachers than being good at anything.

Hufflepuffs were meant to be hardworking and friendly, so how come all my friends were acquaintances, and I hadn't taken something like Ancient Runes or Arithmancy? Besides me being bad at maths? I wanted to be a Hufflepuff, to fit in somehow, to be a spunky Hufflepuff type girl, but – as I endlessly reminded myself – I was a Slytherin. I had more in common with Malfoy than I did with Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernie MacMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Your trouble is," I told my mirror strictly (being a Muggle mirror, it couldn't talk back), "that you're constantly trying to be something you're not. You're Hufflepuff enough for the Sorting Hat, aren't you? That should be good enough for anyone."

Come to think of it, maybe I wasn't Slytherin enough after all. What had I done with that obsessive singing ambition I'd had before I'd known I was a witch? I sighed, feeling dishearted. What could I have done with it? I suspected my parents of hoping that my singing voice would deteriorate over the years, but apart from needing some refreshing with a voice tutor, it was as good as ever. Actually, I'd rather hoped my singing voice would deteriorate, and stop reminding me of what could have been had I not been a witch.

"All right, Maisie, here's the deal. When term starts, you're going to have one goal. To be totally and relentlessly yourself, got it?"

I saluted my reflection.

**

On the Hogwarts Express, they seemed to be playing a game of 'Who can talk about last year the most without mentioning Cedric Diggory?' Poor Cedric, he'd always seemed like such a nice guy; Hufflepuff to the core, of course. I had nothing against Harry Potter but Cedric had rightfully been the Hogwarts champion and it seemed jolly unfair that he'd got killed because someone had it in for Harry.

"Susan," I asked curiously of my housemate, as she successfully mentioned the last day of term and leaving out that last banquet, during which she'd been crying her eyes out. "If Hogwarts had a choir, would you join?"

She stared at me as if I'd just asked her if she'd like a pet Blast-Ended Skrewt. "A choir?"

"Yes, you know, for singing and things."

"I know what a choir is… But I can't sing."

"I bet you can," I said, encouragingly. "You don't have to be brilliant at it, there would be lots of other people singing at the same time."

"I can't hit high notes."

"Perfect! You're an alto!"

"A what? Why are you asking, anyway, Maisie?"

"I'm thinking of setting up a choir. It'd be fun… Eloise?"

Eloise Midgen blinked at me. "I can't sing either."

She turned back to Susan. "Anyway, Su, you were saying?"

OK, no luck there. Yet. Another target?

"What about you, Hannah?"

Hannah looked up from her book. "What about me what?"

"If I set up a choir, would you join?"

"I simply don't have time," she told me shortly. She looked back to her book. Much as I liked her, she could be very irritating.

"What are you reading? Wizard fiction? Can I have a look? Flourish and Blotts is so expensive."

Reluctantly she handed the book over.

All's Fair in Love and Quidditch

Delores Wendleworth, a young aspiring Seeker, is delighted to discover she's the only woman member of the Kentish Kites. However, matches soon become torture when she must play directly against her jealous boyfriend, Anthony Livingstone, the powerful Seeker for the Essex Eagles. She feels she owes the Kites her best, but how can she keep the Quidditch cup and her boyfriend at the same time? And why does the intense Keeper, Heathcliff Lockley, make her feel so weak inside?

I grimaced, and handed the book back. "Sorry I asked. I don't suppose you've read any Louisa May Alcott?" Just call me sentimental.

"Who?"

"Dickens?"

"Who's that?"

"Shakespeare?"

She looked completely blank. "Muggle authors?"

I groaned. "Witches…"

"But you're a witch," Hannah protested.

**

A new year, a new feast, new Hufflepuffs to cheer on and new work to do. Joy. The school song.

Probably the only singing I'd ever heard at Hogwarts, and I have to confess, I did rather enjoy it. Totally raucous…

I usually just belted out the words and sat down. It didn't really count to me as singing. Still, I remembered my goal, and decided that I might as well sing it properly. Unchained Melody seemed like a good bet for the tune.

Most of the others sang it quite quickly (something about those words suggests to me fast and bouncy), so soon enough the only ones left singing were the Weasley twins (who'd done a repeat of their Hogwarts Funeral March) and me.

Everyone was looking at me.

The Weasley twins, at last realising that the focus of attention was not on them, suddenly stopped and looked at me curiously.

I confess, I was pretty stunned. For the first time ever (all right, second time since the Sorting), I had the complete attention of the entire Great Hall. Damn, it was a nice feeling. Well, now to finish…

"…And learn until our brains all rot."

The whole school burst into applause. My reflection would be proud of me. When the clapping had at last died down (I took a bow and sat down again), Dumbledore turned to the Weasley Twins, the only ones still standing.

"I believe, Mister Weasley and Mister Weasley, that you still have to finish?"

Laughter. They launched into the rest of the song in double-time.

"I didn't know you could sing like that," Eloise whispered to me.

"Well, now you do," I said softly. A little sadly, too. I looked back to the rest of the students around me, and broke into a grin. They all knew now.

***

Author's Note – yes I know I should be working on Albus Dumbledore's Inbox. Be encouraged, I have loads of free time this week. And it's mostly finished, just needs a little more and I'm also balking at the task of saying thank you to all my reviewers! HFHE should also get another chapter soon, I've already started writing it, and Children's songs for Dark Wizards will get an update whenever I feel like it.

Funnily enough 'Is there a choir?' was one of the first questions I asked a student who was showing me around my secondary school. Presto the Basilisk includes a school choir in 'Harry Potter and the Lord of the Clones' and Ara Kane mentions extra-curricular music in the wonderful (pro-Hufflepuff!) fic, 'Sounds like a Breakfast Cereal'. I used to be in a choir, but I'm not a great singer. Choirs are fun!