Anthea Lestrange is so unlike the rest of her family - a kind Hufflepuff and diligent student of Muggle Studies - and is constantly trying to prove that she is her own person.
{Philosopher's Stone - Deathly Hallows}
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Chatter died into silence as the doors to the Great Hall swung inwards, Professor McGonagall leading another year's worth of eleven year olds between the four tables and up to the Sorting Hat. Their heads darted around in awe, mouths gaping open just as the five Hufflepuffs' own had two years prior.
Marlene grinned when she spotted Ron's fiery hair, both her and Anthea sending him a discreet thumbs-up as he went past.
"Poor kid," Marlene muttered under her breath. "Fred told him that the Sorting Ceremony consisted of them battling a troll."
"What house do you reckon he'll get?" Anthea quietly whispered to her.
"He'll probably get Gryffindor like all the others," she replied. "But, I'm hoping for Hufflepuff. It would be nice to have one of the family in the common room, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," Anthea sighed as Draco's ever present scowl slid past their bench, though her mind went to her hilarious cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, who was a Hufflepuff but had graduated in the summer - the meeting of their family at Kings Cross had always been an awkward affair. Uncle Lucius had always told Anthea to stay away from her, not that either of them paid him any attention.
McGonagall climbed the wooden step, standing, as she did every year, behind the rickety stool that was placed in full view of all the hall's inhabitants. "Can you wait along here, please?" she commanded the first years, waiting until they had all come to a halt before continuing. "Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."
The headmaster rose from his ornate chair at the top table. "I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."
Malcolm let out a low whistle. "Gets better every year."
"Thank you," Dumbledore concluded with a slight nod, slowly sinking back into his chair.
McGonagall unrolled her piece of parchment. "When I call your name, you shall come forth, I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger."
A girl with bushy brown hair extracted herself from her peers, whispering to herself vehemently as she perched on the chair.
The Sorting Hat sprang into life. "Ah, right then," it said. "Hmm, right, okay... GRYFFINDOR!"
The Lions burst into applause as they welcomed her to their benches, Percy Weasley proudly patting her on the shoulder.
"Draco Malfoy," McGonagall called.
Anthea found her four friends shooting her looks, before turning their attention to her blond cousin as he cockily sat on the stool. It seemed that the Sorting Hat hadn't even touched his head before it loudly declared him as a Slytherin.
