Siobhan stepped off the boat, cheeks flushed red with excitement and the cold as the half-giant led all of the first years into the castle. She was expecting it to be draughty, freezing just as the world outside was, but there must have been spells to ward against that. By the time her boat's group of four had entered the room -- one of the last ones to do so -- an older woman with tartan on her robes and a wizard's hat actually placed upon her head stood stoically (and somewhat tiredly) in her observation of them all.

The youngest MacFusty wondered whether the professor had seen better days -- or years.

On impulse, she turned around to whisper to Charlotte and Mireille. "We don't have to fight a troll, and we'll not be taking a test! It's going to be a dragon, honest!" Shooting a sly smirk in Kyle's direction, she returned to facing the front, ignoring the shocked response from the girl with the braid and the slightly more sensible, dismissive one from the not-Weasley.

Professor McGonagall began a well-rehearsed speech and Siobhan promptly zoned out in disinterest after hearing something about the first years' impending Sorting. Her heart couldn't take any more worrying over it.