I am starting to see (mostly on my tumblr dash) people getting Sorted, and getting assigned wands, and other such Pottermore shenanigans. I am a reasonable adult and I can patiently wait for my proper welcome email, but -- it comes to me that for whatever unfathomable reason I have been convinced since I was eleven that my wand is definitely rowan and phoenix feather, and that I can be Sorted however but I would be the most bewildered Hufflepuff. I am actually wicked excited for Sorting, because I have never been satisfactorily either a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw, and I've occasionally had proposed to me that I am the cheerfullest Slytherin. But I am weirdly stressed about my wand!
This is all fairly amusing, but my inner child is apparently still waiting, slightly terrified, for her Hogwarts letter. My identityyyyyyy.
This is all fairly amusing, but my inner child is apparently still waiting, slightly terrified, for her Hogwarts letter. My identityyyyyyy.
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