“Jump! Then fall— to the top and down the hall
Jump! For life is quick
If you reach the top, your life will end!”
I was making up poems while Birch stared at me from across the table, filled with sweet wrappers. “Gimme a word,” I told the cat, and he turned over and yawned, stretching. Then he blinked. “Blink? You want me to make a poem with blink?” I said.
I was dreadfully bored, all ready for the sorting ceremony. I was nervous too. It was an hour until we got to Hogwarts.
“Do you think, Sir Tabby Birch,
That you enjoy to blink and lurch
And—“
I paused. Someone was outside the door outside. “Hello?” I called. No one answered so I called again, louder. Still no reply. “Hey!” I said, throwing open the compartment door; no one was out there. I saw the blue eyed boy and his sister across the way, staring at me again: I crawled back into my hole with a red face.
“FIRST YEARS!!” rung in my head still. We had already come up from the lake, and were down waiting, soaking wet, for the hat ceremony. I tried to wring out my robes but to no avail.
“There’s a cat in here!” I heard someone squeak, and glanced down to see Birch, wrapping between my feet.
“Birch! Why aren’t you in your cage?” I hissed, I was sure I had put him in. I swear that cat is an animagus or something, being so smart. Some kids began snickering. I wasn’t doing myself any justice at this point. I grabbed him and bundled him up in my arms, burying my face in his fur.
“Haha, I wonder how your cat snuck past all the guards?” Laughed one kid. I ignored him.
During the hat ceremony, I was to be one of the first to go. I was extremely nervous now. There were seven kids in front of me: Sean Abel, Hanna Ace, Ronald Aden, and so on. I was Arvel. There were a lot of new students , it seemed... I just knew everyone was staring. After all, Birch was still trailing me, sitting pretty beside my feet. He was a striking looking cat. Tabby, sure, kinda plain, but his eyes were bright and he stared at everyone with almost a human understanding.
“Birch, just go,” I muttered to the cat. He made a small meow, like, “nope”.
“I said, go.” I hissed.
Birch meowed louder.
I sighed and stayed in line. Before long, my name was called. “ARVEL, LYLTH!”
