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Anxiousness wasn't an unfamiliar emotion to Joséphine.

With a mother like hers she was constantly on edge.

But from a young age she had learnt, as well as from etiquette classes at Beauxbatons, to mask that anxiousness and play it off as confidence.

It's exactly what she was prepping herself to do as she paced in front of the 'Great hall' and waited for a Professor McGonagall to retrieve her for some sort of sorting.

Lily had told her that she would be seated infront of the whole school and sorted by a magical hat who could see into the depths of her mind and ultimately determine what house she would best be suited to and thrive the most in.

It was an incredibly daunting thought.

It wasn't just the fact that she would be infront of a large sum of people - which made Joséphine sweat at just the thought. Or the fact that it was basically her judgement day infront of the whole school, she was the newbie who was transferring in her last year for goodness sake, how can they not judge her.

It was the fact that someone -something - would be inside of her head.

She had been vigorously trained in the art of legilimency from a young age, just another thing her mother could brag her 'perfect' daughter had mastered.

She had worked way to hard to keep people out of her mind, her only safe place in what she considered to be a crumbling world.

No one should be allowed in her mind, it was a dark enough place as it is. She would be considered loony of it were to be analysed.

"Ahem." A voice broke her out of her thoughts, spinning around she took in the sight of a medium height woman with greying hair and a pointed nose.

"Are you miss Joséphine Seignar?" Her voice was stiff and too the point.

Her stance reminded Joséphine of that of her mothers; it was the stance of someone who didn't take crap from anyone.

"Uh-yeah, that's me. I'm her." Joséphine stumbled over her words when she realised she had been silent too long.

"Follow me," without waiting for a reply the woman swiftly turned with a flick of her coat and waved her hands, only for the double doors to open at her command.

All signs of nervousness disappeared when Joséphine took in the sight that was the 'great hall'. With floating candles and an enchanted ceiling, Joséphine could definitely say that she was mesmerised.

"Come along dear you must be sorted," McGonagall spoke with a hint of a smile playing on her lips, she could never get over her amusement whenever a child first saw the great hall.

The looks on their faces were that of complete awe and speechlessness.

Squaring her shoulders and raising her head high, to walk with false confidence, an act that had practically been ingrained in her mind since the day she could walk. Joséphine glided towards the chair at the front of the room.

'Who is she?'

'She's so pretty,'

'Heard she's from Beauxbatons, she's probably just some common French whore.'

'Look at her she's practically floating!'

'I wish I could walk like that,'

Where just some of the whispers that Joséphine could her as she made her way towards McGonagall's figure. It wasn't a surprise since it seemed like English people were more...vocal than what Joséphine was use to.

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