After Kyle was sorted into Slytherin -- as he should have been -- Siobhan didn't pay attention to the rest of the Sorting. She had been the first girl of her year to be sorted into Gryffindor but after her, three more followed, gravitating towards her side of the table. With only a soft greeting to them and a weak smile, she returned to picking at the lining of her skirt. Although her mind was telling her to make friends, to talk to the girls she would be sharing a room with, she just couldn't face the thought of so much excitement and happiness at being Sorted into the wrong house.

It didn't help that Siobhan's seat had a clear view of the line-up of the Slytherin table, most of them politely applauding as other first years were sorted into any house but Gryffindor. Kyle would [i]hate[/i] her. Alistair would [i]hate[/i] her. She didn't find herself all that surprised at the results -- her dad must have been right -- but the leaden weight in her heard was willed with all the heaviness of disappointment.

While the food appeared, Siobhan's stomach was still doing loop-de-loops. She quietly served herself some peas and started to pick on them as the other girls talked, stealing sorrowful glances at the other table and her lost friend.