Hagrid had been talking the entire way — about the forest, about the giant squid, about his brother Grawp — but you'd only caught every other word.

Your fingers brushed the surface of the water, and for a second, the ripples spread wider than they should have.

You pulled your hand back quickly.

You stood at the back of the group, watching first years shift nervously from foot to foot, adjusting robes, whispering last-minute questions.

A stern-looking witch with a clipboard stood at the front, waiting for silence.

You knew none of them. You were used to that.

Then —

<Narrator>: Students leaned forward, craning their necks. A few pointed. You heard fragments — "that's her," "the homeschooled one," "they say she can do wandless magic."

You sat down on the stool.

The Sorting Hat barely touched your head before it shouted: