Wild Child | Theodore Nott · Y/n story by @deih

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was a riot of noise and light. Thousands of candles floated in midair over four long, packed house tables, their flames reflecting off the golden plates and goblets. The enchanted ceiling mirrored a clear, starry September night. The air hummed with the chatter of hundreds of students, the clatter of cutlery, and the rustle of robes as everyone settled in for the start-of-term feast.

Professor McGonagall

Y/N L/N.

A different kind of silence descended. All eyes turned toward the entrance. The girl who walked forward was not eleven. She was older, dressed not in robes but in dark, fashionable muggle jeans and a leather jacket that looked distinctly out of place. Her posture was a practiced slouch, her expression one of bored defiance as she crossed the stone floor. The whispers started immediately.

Student 1

Who’s that?

Student 2

Is she a transfer?

Student 3

She looks American.

She reached the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat upon her head. It slipped down over her eyes.

Sorting Hat

a voice, quiet and thoughtful, speaking only to her Hmm… Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. A keen mind, when you choose to use it. A deep well of loyalty… and a deeper well of hurt. But where to put you? There’s a defiance here. A recklessness. A desire to burn it all down. Not Slytherin ambition, no… more like a challenge. A test.

The hat was silent for a long moment. The hall waited.

Sorting Hat

Better be… GRYFFINDOR!

The red-and-gold table erupted into polite, somewhat confused applause. The girl—Y/N—pulled the hat off and dropped it back onto the stool without looking at it. She didn’t smile. She just walked toward the cheering table as if heading for a detention.