Ever since Molly's first year, when she herself was Sorted, the Sorting had seemed to take an inordinate amount of time, delaying the welcoming feast just when she was starved after a long day on the train. This year, however, since she was aware of it being the last Sorting she would see, it seemed to go very quickly.

“I got the feeling Acacia really enjoyed giving me a detention,” Petula said. “Honestly, I think she's got it in for me.”

“Yes, but you think everyone has it in for you,” Molly said.

Myrtle's eyes were welling up already. “Everyone's always mean to me, just because I'm dead!” she cried, and disappeared back through the cubicle wall. Molly could hear the ghost's sobs coming from the other end of the bathroom, and her annoyance with Myrtle helped her brush off her own tears. She took a deep, ragged breath, wiping the tears furiously from her cheeks.

Arthur had an ugly look on his face, as if he might follow his brother and thrash him within an inch of his life. Molly had never seen him look quite so angry.

“I'm going to kill him,” Arthur said darkly.

“It's Christmas,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Christmas is a time for family love. You may kill him tomorrow.”

Hattie said with disapproval, “You're awful, you've no romance in your soul.”

“I ooze romance,” Cecilia said, her nose in the air.

“You must've caught it from Siobhan,” Molly said.

Molly ran forward without thinking, deflecting the spell Gideon had sent immediately after the first one, too late to stop after he'd seen what the first had done. Her brother was knocked off his feet by the force of her spell.

Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him... She kept up the chant in her head, trying not to hear the words he was saying, but the horrible drawl seemed to be burrowing into her brain, stinging her conscience like little wasps. Just ignore him, he's only a third-year...

She looked up at him, and he gave her a bright smile. He was so confident, so happy to be out of school. He had a purpose. She wondered what hers would be.