What was supposed to be one of the most exciting days of her life had started off rather grim. Mother had yelled at her when getting ready (she'd put her school robes on inside-out, and had messed up her braid when trying to tug it off) and then Father had yelled at her while getting ready to board the train (she'd accidentally taken a wheel of her suitcase while turning a corner).

Still, her day hadn't been ruined by just that. She'd actually been very optimistic when she boarded the train, determined to leave her worries at King's Cross. She'd found a seat across from one of the girls she'd recognized from the parties, who was then joined by another girl, and then another. She didn't recognize them, but now their faces were burned into her mind. She could not say for certain what she had done wrong, but one of them had given her a weird look. Now, Culpurnia didn't claim to be an expert at reading body language, but she knew when someone was giving her a look, and what made it even more stressful was that she could not pinpoint what she had done to deserve it!

Then Girl 2 had giggled into the ear of Sneering Girl, and then all three had left to go "find their missing friend" and had never returned. It left her in a glum mood, if only because she was forced to spend the rest of the train ride over-analyzing her own actions.

Now she was at Hogwarts, standing with the girls and every other first year who she'd ben spending classes with for the next seven years, and Calpurnia was certain that what she was feeling was anxiousness. It didn't help when the Hat called her up to the stand, and she spent the first few seconds smoothing her dress and trying to figure out how to force her expression into one of neutrality.

"Describe yourself in three words."

Now, self-awareness wasn't her strong suit. What kind of girl was she? She was friendly, she thought. Very willing to make friends, at the very least. It did not mean others were eager to befriend her, but she did like making friends when she had the chance.

She was open-minded, too. She liked to learn, liked to explore. She didn't get much of a chance to do either at home, but she'd always thought she would make a good student. She liked rules, she liked structure when it made sense to her. When it mattered most, she was always willing to try her best. She was focused, too—sometimes on the wrong things, according to Aunt Temperance, but focused nonetheless.

"Would you rather be able to change into an animal, change your appearance, or see the future?"

It was a silly question, not one she'd been expecting at all. She wasn't sure how it could indicate what house would suit her best, and just the thought of giving the wrong answer (and forever ruining her proper placement!) caused her heartbeat to quicken.

But really, would she like to do any? Changing into an animal didn't seem to have any benefits. She'd be able to explore more, and maybe she could fly or breathe under water, but what if she was a mouse? Then her Mother's cat could swallow her whole and she would die. It seemed a rather grim fate. And seeing the future? What if she saw that she'd turned into a mouse and died? Seeing the future only seemed like fun if she could control what she saw, and even then the idea of it made her feel a little queasy.

Changing her appearance seemed like the safest of the options. No one had ever called her vain, but sometimes she stared at herself a little too long in the mirror and her features began to look strange. Maybe she'd make her brow bone a little higher on her face. Or maybe she would trade her brown eyes for a more romantic green.

"If you could invent a potion, what would it do?"

She thought on it for a moment. "No thank you," she said aloud. To even consider what kind of potion she would make, she needed to understand how potion-making work. The thought it inventing one right now—especially when she couldn't even brew one—seemed too overwhelming to even ponder. "We can talk about it next week, though. I'll know them for sure."

"Imagine you see someone cheat in class. What do you do?"

She would tell on them, of course! Cheaters never prospered—at least that's what Aunt Temperance said.

"Who is your enemy and how will you defeat them?"

Enemies was such a strong word. It was one saved for fairy tales and dinner with her father (because according to him, there were plenty of enemies abound, both at work and in society around them).

She had no enemies, she decided. There was nobody she disliked. She didn't like the way some people acted, but she always did her best to correct them like Mother and Aunt Temperance did with her. It was all out of love.

And besides, were enemies meant to be defeated? Could they not be swayed? Befriended? Avoided?

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