Serena Burke likes archaic kinds of fun (persephere) wrote in raveled, @ 2017-01-24 00:40:00 |
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You've always been proud of your name. Every day, in gold, it glitters above the shop, proud letters on lintel and sign. But now, when the line before you is too short and it's called too early, it's almost something you want to change. "Burke, Serena." The Scottish lilt drifts out over the Great Hall, and you sense as much as see your sister's smile. She's seated in a sea of gold, and it makes you feel a little less nervous to remember. You breathe deep and square your shoulders, just like Mummy taught you. You're about to be a student, of course, but you can always be a young lady. Measured steps take you to the stool, and you sit with straightened back and hands in lap. So busy listening to your own breath that you don't notice the centuries-soft leather until it settles on your brow. The voice is soft too, and it's easier to close your eyes. Something about it feels like the spells Daddy has been teaching you, the ones that no other family knows. The Hat speaks, and you listen. Another Burke, I see. Aren't you an interesting one? This surprises you. Felicity's the interesting one in your book, the one that needs looking after and quiet care, who people ask after as you scamper past your parents. The one that wishes you wouldn't fuss so, though you're too young to really know it yet. Oh, but my dear, your sister is not sat up here. We must find you a seat of your own. Ravenclaw could suit, you know. They welcome the questions of the curious. You're not sure if you shake your head no. You've heard the words 'silly girl' so often that you fear they're all too true, unsure at this age of your own power. "I don't think they would want me,' you manage in a whisper, and the Hat responds in tones soft and kind. Miss Burke, you are still getting to know your own mind. I can see it all, you know. The grand dreams the snakes would help you achieve, the reckless joys you would adore with Gryffindor. Felicity's house is yet to garner a mention, though you try not to dwell on that fact. You turn each house over in your mind in turn; the brave, the wise, the cunning and the just. At eleven you are not given to introspection, but you know you like the thought the Hat seems to be leading you to. It is good to be kind, it is natural to be loyal. You don't think of accompanying your parents to the shop as hard work, but you love your days among the shelves, befriending artefacts and greeting customers. You try to ignore the pang this thought brings, missing hearth and home already. The Hat, of course, knows. Within you there is heart enough, to make your home in - suddenly the Hat's voice boomed through the hall - "HUFFLEPUFF!" Your smile is wide, letting loose a relieved laugh as you dash to the cheering table, the trim on your robes turning gold as you go. There is only one smile you search for, and you slip into the seat at Felicity's side, hugged and held and home. |