Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, The Great Hall.


Cynric shuffled his feet, glowering sullenly underneath his mop of tousled brown hair. The Sortings were taking forever. Periodically, crowds broke into applause and then stopped. Stopped stopped stopped, breaths of anticipe...antici... expectation. It was boring but the timid boy only sighed as the girl infront was called.

He glanced down at his right palm, where words were scribbled in messy script.

Dancing bears don't sparrows must at least... fluent fluid MERCURIAL... don't forget shoe polish...

"Rosier, Cynric."

Blue eyes lit up and Cynric hastily walked up to the front, anxiously peeking at the Slytherin table; familiar female faces peered up. Cousins. Oh how he detested them. And just as he thought that, the Sorting Hat was was dropped. He'd only had enough time to hear a mutter (though had he really heard it at all?) : Well if you say so...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

His expression froze, wide-eyed. Somebody was moving to lift the Hat but Cynric already found himself stuttering, "E-excuse me? What? What d-did you s-s-s-say?" Jeers came from one of the tables, hesitant claps from another. An unmistakably high-pitched titter from cousin Fiona. His cheeks burned red.

Father was going to kill murder him.