Sybille smiled at Miss Flint. “My mother was a Hufflepuff.” She volunteered, when Ace said that Miss Flint had been in that house. The woman again fixed her attention on Sybille, “I don’t know. I would hope to follow my mother, but almost everyone else is a Ravenclaw.” If there was a house that baked she was fairly certain that would be where she’d be sorted, but apparently such a thing didn’t exist at Hogwarts. She looked up at her older brother as she mentioned his house.

Then, because she felt she talked enough and was quite tired of this outing, she looked up at her brother. “Ace, Avril is looking at more black ribbon.” Sybille was clearly over anything black as was she about ribbons. She loved ribbons, but only when they were vibrant colors, pinks and greens and yellows and blues. Not black.