𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙽𝙳𝚄𝚂𝚃 || Bill Weasley

i. accio

Her parents were sad to see her go.

They waved her off from Platform 9 3/4 clutching on to one another. Her mother had a tissue in her other hand, dabbing her cheeks with it every so often.

"My girl's going to Hogwarts," she'd told her daughter proudly that morning before they solemnly left the house.

"And she'll be a fantastic witch," her father added with a delighted smile.

The Hogwarts Express- a gleaming scarlet steam engine- shot through the English countryside, passing major cities such as Oxford, Birmingham, Manchester, and Leeds on its way up to spectacular Scotland, where another set of students would began their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

All known wizarding children anticipated that moment during their eleventh year in life when an owl would arrive carrying a perfectly wax-sealed envelope containing their Hogwarts acceptance letter. And even the Muggle-borns were thrilled (albeit a little bit terrified).

Jules Farrier woke up on the morning of her eleventh birthday to the family owl- Tempest- tapping at her window, an envelope clasped between her beak.

The little girl squealed, waking her parents who rushed to her bedside with mortified expressions. They soon, however, softened out into delighted smiles and congratulatory words.

Of course Jules would be attending Hogwarts. Magic was rooted deep inside her soul and it ran through her veins just like blood.

The Hogwarts Castle was truly a sight to behold. It had turrets that stretched skywards, grounds that seemed to reach for miles, and so many secrets that past students had only scratched the surface with when it came to discovering them.

Jules couldn't wait to uncover the best of the unknown mysteries. She was going to make it her duty.

It was a short boat ride across the Black Lake to the castle after the students arrived at Hogsmeade.

A smiley, intelligent-looking girl joined Jules on one of the boats. She was dark-skinned, had long black hair, and a pair of thick-framed glasses.

"Hey," she greeted. "You're looking nervous."

"I am," Jules replied awkwardly. "But I'm also really excited."

"Me too! My parents are magical and I've always hoped I'd be like them... Oh! My name is Rowan. Rowan Khanna."

"Julia Farrier. But every calls me Jules."

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Jules," Rowan grinned. "I think we'll be great friends."

Jules nodded. Excitement courses through her and she drank in the happy atmosphere that Rowan was creating with her grin and her fidgety fingers and feet.

Once inside the Castle, Jules could t quite comprehend the sheer size of the place. The stones that made up the walls were almost as tall as she was; the torches burned brighter than the night stars and the portraits on the staircases chattered as their gazed settled on the new students.

The Great Hall was simply magnificent. There were four long, thing tables packed with students wearing different coloured robes watching the first years cram into the room before making their way down to the teachers table.

As Professor McGonagall began to welcome them to Hogwarts, Jules caught sight of a young boy, who must have been only a couple of months older than her, amongst the small crowd that grabbed her attention. His flaming-red hair was a stark contrast to his black robe and a bright smile was plastered to his faintly freckled face.

In that moment, he turned in her direction and sent her a warm, yet awkward smile. She mirrored his reaction, guessing he felt as anxious as she did.

Time passed slowly as each new student approached the stool where they sat in order to be sorted. Jules and Rowan whispered to one another, debating on what houses they'd be sorted into.

"I think you'll be a Ravenclaw," Jules told her new friend.

Rowan didn't look so sure, but didn't have time to respond-

"Farrier, Julia!" Professor McGonagall cried, peering over her glasses to scan the crowd for the young girl.

Jules gave Rowan an anxious glance, to which she replied 'good luck!'

Jules pushed her way to the front of the slowly diminishing crowd, slowly climbed the steps and sat on the stool, anticipating the words of the Sorting Hat.

Ahh, another Farrier, it said in its low, cryptic tone. There's most certainly only two options for you, but will it be the following of your father's footsteps or your mother's? Slytherin or Ravenclaw? Hmm... Interesting.

As the Sorting Hat rambled on, time did too. Jules couldn't stand the tension and she feared the unknown that lay ahead for her.

It spoke to her about pride and honour. About determination and wit and loyalty. It spoke of her being somebody who no-one else could possibly have predicted she'd be and Jules thought that perhaps the Hat could foretell the future. Although, that'd be daft.

Right?

Well, I think I know the perfect place for you, the Sorting Hat finished.

Jules swallowed and let out a shaky breath.

"Slytherin!"

The Hat bellowed its final verdict for all students and teachers to hear. Cheers and claps erupted, echoing around the hall. Even more so from the table of students embellished in green and silver robes.

Rowan's name was soon called. She sat on the stool beneath the Sorting Hat, twiddling her thumbs nervously.

In that moment, Jules thought about what her mother had talked of when mentioning the Sorting Hat. There was something called a Hat Stall, where the Hat would take longer than five minutes to Sort a student into one of four houses. It was usually a toss-up between two, but sometimes a student could be quite easily placed in all four. But there could only be one choice.

And it seemed that Rowan was a Hat Stall.

The students and teachers sat patiently in the silence of the Hall, awaiting the Sorting Hat's verdict. After almost eight minutes of pondering, the Hat eventually cried:

"Slytherin!"

Although missing the announcement of his name, Jules noticed the second-to-last new student was the red-haired boy she had smiled at earlier. His anxiety has seemed to have worn off as he approached the stool with a glint of confidence in his eyes. He sat still. Waiting. Until the word "Gryffindor!" came out of the Sorting Hat's mouth and he went to the table opposite Jules's with a grin given to his new housemates and a sigh of relief escaped his lips.