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i think the sorting hat doesn't make mistakes

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Ivy was still scowling well into the feast, "There had to have been some sort of mistake."

Harley shoveled in another bite of desert that she was technically having too early, "I don't think the sorting hat makes mistakes."

The operative word in that sentence was think. This world was actually quite new to Harley, being what they called a "muggleborn". Well some of them had called her "mudblood" but Ivy had gotten very mad at those people.

Her parents thought it was a hoax but took her to the train station to investigate and low and behold it was all true.

On the train ride she sat next to another muggleborn, a little girl of Cuban descent (Harley knew because she had proudly declared it when the subject of her mother came up) named Selina. Her smile was sly and sharp. Oh they were going to be the best of friends.

They chattered as only eleven year old girls could until they were interrupted by a girl with red hair coming into their department. She introduced herself as Pamela but told them to call her Ivy. She said she was pureblood, whatever that meant (she blushed when Harley asked if that made her a princess).

Ivy put her fork down taking Harley out of her thoughts, "Girls like me don't end up in Hufflepuff. I hate people." Well mostly men, but she didn't feel the need to clarify.

Harley tilted her head, "Where do girls like you end up?"

"Slytherin. It's where every other Isley has been sorted," Ivy answered.

The only thing Harley knew about Slytherin is that it was where they put Selina, "Well maybe it's time to shake things up."

Ivy shook her head, "You're unbelievable."

Harley glanced over at Selina, and she knew that Ivy would have given anything to take her place at that table so far away. Harley hoped sitting with your house wasn't mandatory for every meal because she planned to keep up that friendship kindled on the train with the catlike girl no matter what it took.

Harley for one was happy that Ivy was a Hufflepuff. It meant that she got to share a house (and probably boarding!) with someone so pretty like that. Someone she wanted to know better.

(Someone who in the next couple of months she might develop a teensy-tiny crush on that totally won't end up them getting married down the road. Not at all.)