Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all related characters and settings belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Twenty-Nine- Thomas, Dean.
It definitely was not one of my favorite sortings. I don't know why I said I would tell them. It was embarrassing to me. One of the type where I was almost beaten.
"Thomas, Dean." McGonagall said. The sortings that year had already been quite difficult to start off with. Everything was either one extreme or another. This one I was not prepared for, it was another side that I had not encountered recently.
Wrong sport.
What?
You are following the wrong sport.
The wrong sport to do what?
To fit in.
Huh?
Football is a Muggle sport. Quidditch is the wizarding world sport. You should try and get it the right way round now before it's too late.
Too late for what?
Huh?
Too late for what?
Well, too late too, urrm, 'he had caught me off guard. I had no answer. This was not going the way that I had planned.' To late to make any friends.
Then I'll just make friends with the other Muggle-born children.
Look kid, you aren't making this easy for me. You are supposed to be conforming to what I say.
Why should I.
I have the power to decide which house you are put in. That is why.
Any house would be fine.
Oh, of course it would. No family honor. Noone would care if you were put in the wrong house.
What do you mean, wrong house?
None of your business.
I think it is.
I think it isn't.
Fine. Whatever. Pick any hose.
You wouldn't say that if I put you in Slytherin.
Huh?
Slytherin. They wouldn't take kindly to a mud-blood in their house.
Mud-Blood?
A person born to Muggles.
Then I'd just make friends with people from other houses.
They wouldn't talk to a Slytherin.
Put me in a different house then.
Aha! I win.
What?
I win.
Whatever. Put me in any house. I don't care.
You are one of the most insufferable people ever.
I know.
"Gryffindor!" I called, with a lot less enthusiasm than usual. I just wanted the sorting over.
Most of the hall did not seem to be on my side. A lot of them were congratulating Dean and he himself had a smug look on his face. I wanted to wipe that smile off with someone that most of them wouldn't like, Slytherin or not. The teacher Quirrell.