His answers were as unenthusiastic as any other stuffy grownup's, which led Flora to the conclusion that turning seventeen had also turned Merriweather into just another boring adult. Letting out a dramatic sigh, she placed the book on the floor beside her.

"And what do you think will become of me?" she asked, "Do you think I'll have trouble making friends? What house do you think I'll be sorted into? I can't seem to decide."

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