Chapter 43

As a Gryffindor student, an onlooker drifting outside the story— If possible, I hope they can all have ordinary joys, without families forever oppressive, without responsibilities forced upon their shoulders, without helpless partings and reunions, forever high-spirited, forever youths. Speaking of my life, it doesn't seem particularly special either. Like any ordinary child, at eleven I waited for the owl on the windowsill, received my Hogwarts acceptance letter, shopped in Diagon Alley, came to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, boarded the Hogwarts Express, and headed to the second home of my life, the place where all dreams begin, mingling in the crowd, waiting for the Sorting Hat's decision. I never expected I would end up in Gryffindor. I knew I lacked extraordinary intelligence, harbored no shrewd ambition, and didn't consider myself possessing any startling courage. I thought I would go to Hufflepuff because I am easygoing—my mother always told me so, saying I was a very considerate child who thought of others and was loyal to friends. So how could I possibly end up in Gryffindor?