Wyllowe jumped up from her table, hurriedly smoothing her hair and skirt. She stood very tall and straight, her worn carpetbag over one shoulder, looking very raggedy in her patched green broom-skirt and russet jacket. Students rushed past her, some barely glancing in her direction, and some staring blatantly as they passed her. Most of them seemed to know where they were going, but a medium sized group of younger children clung together in the back of the hall. Wyllowe figured they must be "first years" from what Aunt Gladys had told her. Wyllowe sighed. She knew she would look out of place as a sixteen-year-old standing amongst the young children, but she also knew it was her only reasonable option. She would have to be sorted. Aunt Gladys had practically bubbled over in excitement trying to explain all the fun Wyllowe would have at Hogwarts. Aunt Gladys had wanted to take Wyllowe shopping for new dress robes and things, but there had been no time, so she had just taken some of her older cousin's things left over from his days at Hogwarts, and some old dress robes of Aunt Gladys's. Her cheeks growing red, Wyllowe walked through the groups of teenagers her own age; she went to stand with the group of eleven-year- olds.

Before Wyllowe had been standing with the group five minutes, a large man came and shuffled the children off to a separate table . . . however, he put one of his large hands on her shoulder and motioned for her to wait. She stood stock still, not sure what she was doing. After the gigantic bearded man had the first years settled, he came back to where Wyllowe was standing.

"Yer Wyllowe Burtaine?" he asked.

"Yes . . . yes I am," she said timidly, taking a step back.

"Well I'm Hagrid, the gameskeeper here at Hogwarts . . . " he was saying, when Wyllowe's eyes began to fill with tears. She brought one delicate hand to her face, trying to conceal the tears, but this "Hagrid" had seen. He knelt down beside her, putting him at about her height.

"Darling, what's wrong? You can tell me, I'm no stranger to tears meself . . . "Hagrid said, but Wyllowe wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and smiled half-heartedly. She turned her bright eyes to Hagrid.

"Thank you, sir, I'm fine. I just am not sure what I am supposed to be doing right now," she said, straining to keep her voice steady. Hagrid nodded, and stood.

"Well, I think we're going to put you at the beginning of the Sorting, so you can sit at your table with the ones your own size. I'll point out someone nice fer you ter sit with . . . don't you worry none, missy . . ." he reassured her, patting her shoulder, nearly causing her to topple over.

As Hagrid said, the Sorting started very quickly. The hat sang a horrific song, all sang in a trembling falsetto. The whole hall clapped wildly, a sound much louder than Wyllowe had ever heard in her quiet upbringing. A stern-looking woman stepped forward and smiled thinly to the two redheaded boys at the crimson-adorned table that were still (humorously) clapping as she turned to face the audience. She unrolled a long roll of parchment, which immediately snapped into a straight piece and levitated in front of her.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley. I'm sure you're very excited as it is your last year at Hogwarts . . . lets not forget about the reasons you're still here, shall we?" the woman said, raising an eyebrow at the identical red haired boys. The boys' faces flushed and they shook their heads, but as soon as the woman looked back to her parchment, the boys both began to guffaw uncontrollably. The stern woman paid no attention, but began to shout a name.

"Wyllowe Burtaine . . . " she yelled. Wyllow's face blanched, and she walked stiffly to the front of the hall. As she passed the tables, she heard murmurs and whispers, even a few whistles.

"Awfully developed for a first year, isn't she?" a menacing looking young man with spiked white blond hair and two small silver hoops in each ear said silkily as she passed. When she turned crimson red and crossed her arms over her chest, the boys around him began to laugh, but he continued to stare.

"As many of you may have noticed, Miss Burtaine is not a first year, but she has been taught at home since she was very young, and will be joining the sixth year class for her remaining time in Hogwarts. I expect that whatever house she joins will be glad to have her." the woman yelled across the gossiping students. Wyllowe picked up the hat from the chair and sat down daintily. She placed it gently on her head, and a voice began to whisper as if it was in her very brain.

"Hmmm . . . strange case indeed . . . " the voice intoned, "you're going to be here for your sixth year. A pretty young lady with talents somewhat different from many of the students here. A wood nymph. Very special indeed. I see you have the power to manipulate the trees, some flowers . . . even people, although it has gone unpracticed in your years of solitude. Slytherin enjoys that kind of company. But you also have an undeniable streak for learning in you . . . a thirst to know more. Ravenclaw could nurture that. I think . . . " but the voice paused, and Wyllowe thought she could hear hesitation, "no. I will not put you in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. You are destined to do more than these two houses can help you with. You are lion-hearted. I see you didn't cry when your mother or father died. And I see you live with a family you dislike, but you wish to protect them. You have a strong heart." Wyllowe thought the hat was done; perhaps it had gotten confused, and couldn't sort her, but would send her back home, away from the chaos and bustle of this school. But no such luck.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, and the whole hall laughed as Wyllowe jumped at the sudden sound. However, a whole table jumped to their feet and applauded. As Wyllowe took the hat off of her head and collected herself, she saw the stern woman speak to a girl with her chestnut hair streaked brilliantly blond and in a complicated updo. The girl nodded, and skipped to meet Wyllowe as she went to sit at the Gryffindor table.

"Hi!" the girl said cheerily over the rest of the Sorting noise, "my name is Lavender Brown . . . let me get you settled in."