· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽
▎ EXTRAORDINARY ▎
»»————-　act one. the very best
FOUR ━━ beware to make bets

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♯ ❝ THIS IS WICKED ❞ 
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FLORENCE WAS SEATED AT THE GRYFFINDOR TABLE, a warm smile on her face already as she conversed with the people around her as everyone waited for professor McGonagall to bring the first years inside. Turning toward Percy to ask him if he was excited for Ron to join them next year she saw he was already occupied with something— or better said someone else.

"Percy, you're pinning is even starting to hurt my heart now." She stated in hushed whisper, "Please for the love of Merlin, ask her out on a trip to Hogsmeade." She groaned.

"You know I can't" Percy shook his head, cheeks turning as red as his hair.

"Yes you can Perce, and I'm absolutely sure she likes you too. Last year I heard her talking to Davies about you." Flo pressed with an encouraging smile.

"Really!" Percy turned towards her with an hopeful gleam in his eyes.

The blonde nodded, "She said you were the best Charms partner she had ever had." She replied sheepishly, hearing the words falling from her lips didn't sound as assuring as she had hoped in retrospect.

Percy deflated at her words, "A good charms partner, that's all you heard. . ."

"Yes, but the way she talked about you sounded like she thought the world of you." Florence assured, trying to lighten his spirits, "You should have seen the look on her face." She continued with a dreamy smile.

Percy opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything the doors of the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall entered with the nervous first years trailing behind her.

Everyone at the tables quieted down when the head of the Gryffindor house placed the sorting hat on the brown stool and all the first years gathered around.

Florence grinned when the younger children stared with awe at the sorting hat when it started singing its song.

One thousand years ago
this story starts. There were
four sorcerers with strong
and kind hearts.

Bold Gryffindor from wild moor.
Fair Ravenclaw from glen.
Sweet Hufflepuff from valley broad.
Shrewd Slytherin from fen

They had a dream to teach
all that they knew. Witches and
wizards came far and it grew
'Til a castle stood tall by the
shores of a lake and a thousand
years later the magic remains

There's nothing hidden in your
head the Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands
For I'm a Thinking Cap

Eleven year old Florence O'Malley could only stare in awe as the tattered old hat finished his song, other eager first years doing exactly the same as her. She was almost bouncing on her feet, the nerves that had resided inside her minutes ago being replaced by an excited jitter to be sorted.

What house, the blonde had no clue. Her father had been a proud Slytherin—becoming one of the youngest Quidditch Captain to ever grace the Hogwarts Halls in his third year. And her mother, the cleverest witch of her age, (in Flo's opinion at least. ) had been soaring high Ravenclaw, favouring Potions above all else the school offered to teach. Both had even been Prefect and later head boy and girl.

Quite a famous legacy they carried and Florence could only hope she would achieve as much as they once did.

Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house stood proud next to the stool that held her future. Her plum-coloured robes glistered in the candlelight and her lips were pulled in a thin line. And while she looked strict and unforgiving, Florence knew from the stories of her parents that the Transfiguration was the most demanding but fair woman there was. They talked about her in high regard even many years after their own times at Hogwarts.

There was a small twinkle in her eyes as she regarded the group of eleven year olds and when her gaze had settled on Florence, the blonde smiled largely and the professor returned the gesture with a small smile of her own.

If McGonagall had only known at that point how big of a Quidditch fanatic she would have standing, smiling at her. She would have smiled a lot more.

"I will read your name." The woman started, holding as scroll of parchment in front of her. "And you will walk forward to be sorted."    

She had waited patiently... for one minute.

The first girl had been a hat stall.

Florence didn't possess much patience, and Percy had to hold her robe sleeve tightly to prevent her from bouncing away.

The boy they had met at during the train ride, Oliver, he didn't seem that much better as he muttered quietly under his breath.

"O'Malley, Florence." After what felt like forever, it had been finally her turn to be sorted. She strolled forward, a confident grin displayed on her face as she ascended the steps.

She let herself fall down on the small stool, giving her friends a small smile and a thumps op before the hat was placed on her head and her view was blocked.

"Oh an O'Malley, eh?"

Her eyes widened at the sound of the hat's voice in her head.

"This is wicked."

The hat chuckled.

"Will you sort me in the house of my mother or father?" She inquired curiously.

"You have great potential in Slytherin—your ambitious would have made many Slytherin's jealous."

"Well I would love to." She mused, "I would do anything to be as good as my parents really... gotten me in a lot of trouble with them too...and a couple visits to St. Mungos."

It was silent in her head and she waited with bathed breath, bouncing on the stool.

"Better be—"

" Gryffindor!"

Everyone started to clap loudly after the first student was sorted, Florence joining in loudly from her place next to Oliver and Percy as the first student had been placed in Gryffindor.

"Anderson, Mallory!"

The second student approached the stool with a timid smile, blonde hair flowing behind her.

As the girl sat down, the sorting hat was perched on her head and silence fell over the room. A minute passed and then another and another one. . .

"She going to be a hat stall." Angelina muttered from beside her.

Florence stomach rumbled, "This way we're never getting dinner."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Finally!" Florence muttered in relief as the next kid was called forward, but her voice was louder than she meant it to be when some students stared at her with perplexed looks.

Her face turned a scarlet red to match the banner hanging above the table and she ducked her head.

Luckily, the sorting continued and more students got sorted. Every time the sorting hat called out Gryffindor, the golden and red house erupted in loud cheers— which Florence joined in on far louder than anyone else did.

"Wanna make a bet lass?"

Florence turned her head towards Oliver who was seated across from her with an mischievous smile etched on his face.

Flo raised a curious eyebrows and motioned for the boy to elaborate.

"I bet the next kid that's called out is going to be in Gryffindor."

The blonde turned her head to look at the small crowd of students left standing, impatiently waiting to be sorted.

"Callum, Eric."

"No way, that kid is a Hufflepuff for sure." Florence shook her head as the boy sat down on the stool, his big brown eyes nervously bouncing around the Great Hall.

"Loser has to clean up the quidditch supplies after try-outs."

"Deal."

The two shook hands before turned to focus on the sorting head as it mulled over its decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Both of their faces fell at the decision. "Now what?" Florence wondered.

"You both clean the supplies after try-outs." Charlie appeared out of nowhere, startling the blonde, who jumped in her seat.

The redhead was smugly grinning from ear to ear. The blonde narrowed his eyes and pushed his face away from her.

"Have fun cleaning the supplies!" Charlie said in a sing-song voice before turning to his own friends.

Flo grumbled under her breath and glared at Oliver. "This is all your fault."

"How can it be my fault you guessed incorrectly."

"Just because." She pouted.

"You're unbelievable!"

"Oh shut it you wanker!"

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THE NEXT MORNING CAME SOONER RATHER THAN LATER AS THE EARLY SUNSHINE CAME streaming through the scarlet curtains of the fourth years dormitory, but for Florence, a true morning person— it didn't matter at all as the girl was already up and running with her hair neatly combed and her clean robes on while the other four girls in the dormitory were still sleeping away.

With a smile that rivalled the sun that particular morning, the blonde almost bounced around the room, excitement radiating off of her. "Come one girls, rise and shine!" She called out loudly.

But instead of the response she wanted, four pillows were thrown at her at full force, knocking her back a couple inches. Flo blinked, glancing around the room to see all girls throwing their blankets over their heads. "You gits planned that." She puffed a piece of blonde hair out of her eyes, glaring at the girls who snickered at her words.

"You all will miss breakfast if you don't hurry up." She pressed, arms crossed around her chest.

"Who cares about breakfast, I need more sleep." Jane Jeffords — or better known as JJ, a dear friend of Florence mumbled while the other girls let out hums of agreement.

Florence sighed, contemplating on just letting them be, or dragging their lazy bums out of bed.

"I will count to three and if you all aren't out of bed and getting dressed, I will swear to Merlin I am going to make your lives a living hell! And you know I will and can! Go!"

She obviously decided on the latter, easily switching from sweet smiles, to her serious Quidditch attitude in seconds. And everyone knew not to mess with the golden blonde when she made threats. They all witnessed Marvin Reid— a fourth year Ravenclaw, have a run in with Flo's vengeance last year when the boy told her girls weren't as good at Quidditch as guys.

Let's say the boy can't even look her in the eye anymore when they're playing against each other.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

All four girls were on their feet and running around like headless chickens.

"Three." She smiled victoriously, before turning on her heel and leaving the dormitory.

On her way to the Common Room, Florence spotted Angelina, the dark skinned girl, looking like she'd rather still be in bed at this point.

"Was it my imagination or did I hear you screaming?" Angelina inquired as they fell in step beside one another.

"You did hear me, the girls didn't want to get up, so I— well you could say I made a pretty good argument to get them moving."

"You're so mean." Angie chuckled, shaking her head.

"I just don't like tardiness, Johnson." Florence tutted as they walked down the stairs. The blonde could already spot Percy sitting on one of the armchairs waiting for her. "So you better not be late for Quidditch try-outs missy!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"I wouldn't dare!" Angelina called after her, but while her voice might have beenplayful, even Angelina didn't dare cross the golden blonde when it came toanything Quidditch related.

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