C was for Crabbe. Sirius, a B, had already been sorted into Slytherin, and Abraxas doubted he would be joining his best friend there. But where would he end up? He cast an anxious glance back at his cousin—an M, Flora was still awaiting her own turn—before approaching the stool. Rex's body was tense with excitement and nerves as the Sorting Hat was lowered onto his head.
Which house would you like to be in and why?
I don't know, Rex thought back honestly. Much though he would love to join Sirius in Slytherin, he was not convinced that it was the right house for him. He had so many excellent role models from each of his options that the boy had never considered one to be any better than the others.
You catch a fellow student copying your friend's homework in their absence, how do you deal with this situation?
Tell my friend when they get back, of course! The thought came instantly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was not Rex's job to inform the professor, of course, but he was a loyal friend who couldn't quite bring himself to let even a harmless slight slide entirely.
"Centaur, unicorn, kelpie, or abraxan?"
What an odd question! What was the context, Rex wondered? Obviously all of them could be incorporated into wand cores, but he would hardly pick a unicorn to have a lengthy chat with, just as he knew better than to try to ride a kelpie. Abraxan, I suppose? There had been a mini-abraxan at his cousin's birthday party, and it had been neat enough, Rex supposed.
What would you like to do once you leave Hogwarts?
I'll be a great scholar! Or a great quidditch player! A great quidditch scholar? Maybe an auror, or a healer! Okay, so perhaps the first year hadn't quite narrowed it down yet, but he knew he wanted to do something more than just sit around and be rich. How boring must that be?
Your close friend is miserable, what do you do about it?
Anything I can do to cheer him up! Probably give him some chocolate, Rex added, or go on a small adventure. Sometimes all you need to do is offer a listening ear!
What do you consider to be your best trait?
This one gave him pause. Rex had never really had to consider this before—his childhood had been full of people telling him how cute he was, how bright he was, how polite he was, how kind he was, how wonderful he was. But what did he think?
The boy remained "quiet" for what felt like an eon but was, in essence, the better part of a second in a half, before settling on, My mind.
Was that the right answer? Were there wrong answers? He supposed he was about to find out.
I don't know, Rex thought back honestly. Much though he would love to join Sirius in Slytherin, he was not convinced that it was the right house for him. He had so many excellent role models from each of his options that the boy had never considered one to be any better than the others.
Tell my friend when they get back, of course! The thought came instantly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was not Rex's job to inform the professor, of course, but he was a loyal friend who couldn't quite bring himself to let even a harmless slight slide entirely.
What an odd question! What was the context, Rex wondered? Obviously all of them could be incorporated into wand cores, but he would hardly pick a unicorn to have a lengthy chat with, just as he knew better than to try to ride a kelpie. Abraxan, I suppose? There had been a mini-abraxan at his cousin's birthday party, and it had been neat enough, Rex supposed.
I'll be a great scholar! Or a great quidditch player! A great quidditch scholar? Maybe an auror, or a healer! Okay, so perhaps the first year hadn't quite narrowed it down yet, but he knew he wanted to do something more than just sit around and be rich. How boring must that be?
Anything I can do to cheer him up! Probably give him some chocolate, Rex added, or go on a small adventure. Sometimes all you need to do is offer a listening ear!
This one gave him pause. Rex had never really had to consider this before—his childhood had been full of people telling him how cute he was, how bright he was, how polite he was, how kind he was, how wonderful he was. But what did he think?
The boy remained "quiet" for what felt like an eon but was, in essence, the better part of a second in a half, before settling on, My mind.
Was that the right answer? Were there wrong answers? He supposed he was about to find out.