Hermione Granger
"Granger, Hermione."
The Sorting Hat felt itself being lowered onto a bushy clump of hair. It wasn't going to be an easy day. Just by taking a glance at the hall, he detected a new Weasley. Arugh. The Weasleys were always impossible to sort, because they were all cunning and had spots where they would con people if they had to—they were impeccably poor—but all the same, the Hat knew they never would. So he had thrown every single one into Gryffindor, and year after year he wondered if he was making a mistake. That genius, Fred Weasley, and his twin George, were this close to being in Ravenclaw. Smart children.
But it was not sorting Weasleys; it was sorting a Granger.
Muggleborn?
Oh no. Is it that obvious? Do I have to be sent home now? Or maybe you'll just put me in Hufflepuff. Of course, Professer Helga Hufflepuff was quite honorable, but really, I have to tell the truth right? Of course I do. I really desperately don't want to be in Hufflepuff.
..Why?
Because Mum and Dad were so disappointed when they learned I was a witch—I think they thought that I couldn't get my degree in Science now—but then they found out some about the Houses, and they really desperately want me to be in Ravenclaw, because that's where the smart ones are. And Hufflepuff is—well—they said it was for dunces. Mum and Dad are quite pressurizing, really. I have to be perfect.
You aren't.
I'm not..?
You are not perfect.
What? WHAT?
No one is. You are deeply uneducated—you are only eleven. And anyways, you could never get a proper degree in Science. You think in numbers, and you don't care nearly as much as you pretend to about your studies. Tell me, Ms Granger. What do you care for? What do you, in your deepest, most twisted desires of heart, want?
Um.
You can tell me.
I can't.
You can..
I want a friend.
You have friends.
No I don't and it's not cos of how smart I am. It's because I don't make friends that easily. They think I'm uptight and snooty, yes, but I think they're too laid back. I can't make friends. But if I looked in a magical mirror I'd see myself with friends.
And you will definitely get some. Now! Ravenclaw? You are very smart, child, I can see that—your IQ is skyrocketing.
Yeah I guess so...
Ravenclaw! The House of your dreams!
My parents' dreams. I don't want to be smart.
What do you want to be?
…
..
…
…
…
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Brave.
Well then, that's that. "GRY—"
Wait! I'm not ready!
I am.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
A/N: I'm kinda at a loss for her to do next. Please review and tell me your ideas!