The Great Hall was beautiful, Siobhan decided as the first years were let through the doors. The enchanted ceiling, the vibrant colours of all four houses, the noise and chatter... all breath-taking -- enough to make her exhale in surprise. Even the staring eyes that followed them as they lined up in a neat row weren't as daunting as they should have been.

She spotted her brother at the very end of the Slytherin table, the side closest to her. Beside him was Maggie, along with a few other brutish looking Slytherins who -- had she not been entirely set on that House -- might have put her off the idea. He saluted her jauntily, prompting a grin even from the dark depths of the nervous pit in her stomach.

It quickly became apparent that the hat was about to [i]talk[/i] as a rip in the fabric began to twist and morph into the unmistakable shape of a mouth. Siobhan's eyebrow twitched as it burst out in song. Not one of her brothers and sisters had told her that particular detail. In response, she turned to Kyle (who was already staring at her in surprise for some reason unknown to her) and asked, horror clear in her voice, "What is [i[that[/i]? Do we need to put it on?"

A small part of her mind scolded her for not listening to the lyrics themselves but... the Hat was so [i]strange[/i] that she just couldn't take it seriously.

As Charlotte was sorted into Hufflepuff, much to Siobhan's surprise, she quickly decided that she would come first in the list since it was alphabetical. Mac before Mc. Sure enough, it wasn't too many names down the line that 'MacFusty' was called out. With one last, particularly desperate look at Kyle, she walked up to the stool -- her shoes clicking far too loudly against the stone floors -- and pulled the Sorting Hat down over her head.

It was dark, almost black under the hat. Light filtered in lazily under the brim, her curly hair giving her just enough space so it didn't slip over her face and smother her as it seemed to do for some of the other first years. As a droplet of sweat dripped down the back of her neck, the Sorting Hat spoke in that drawl of his (its?).

[i]Yes, yes... smart, but not stuffy. Books aren't your thing, clearly... you would eat them alive...[/i].

Siobhan nearly jolted upright in the seat, and only her white-knuckled grip on the stool held her in place. Hoping that the hat could hear her, she mumbled under her breath, "Put me in Slytherin. Put me in Slytherin. Put me in Slytherin."

The Sorting Hat paused for a moment in its muttering. [i]A choice between Gryffindor and Slytherin then. Heart and mind. Both would be well-suited... but there's not an ounce of fear in you. There's a loyalty that's best served in the house of lions -- to your brother and your friend, even if they are wholly snakes...[/i]

Siobhan chewed on her bottom lip. She knew where this was going.

[i]But that bravery... there's not an ounce of fear in you! You'll only come into your own in...[/i] "GRYFFINDOR!"

Siobhan just about tore the hat off her head, having the foresight to leave it behind on the stool as she staggered towards the buoyant, cheering Gryffindor table. Eyes pointedly cast to the ground, she made sure not to look behind her as she slumped into a seat, palm pressed heavily against her face in an effort to stop the stinging sensation in her eyes. What was she going to do?