Pete muttered a little under his breath and then sighed, tapping the card in his hand against the table. "Maybe," he suggested, politely but with a tightness to his voice, "you could stop judging a system you've spent not even a full season in and stop profiling the children out of some smug, self-congratulatory, overly developed sense of expertise. They're not shallow, one-dimensional characterizations, they're actual people. They're actual, freaked out people who are young and far away from their parents and the presence of a yellow tie does not mean that the student is going to be bouncing around idiotically trying to give everyone a bit of a cuddle."
He was maybe being a little harsher than his mother would prefer, but honestly. Their school was invaded by Americans, not to mention a magical virus that Pete secretly maybe slightly blamed on Adam, since he'd been whinging about how badly and how long he'd had the damn thing, and he was really honestly very sick of Adam's snippy, superior little comments about their Houses and the sorting.