Of the two sopping wet figures standing in the doorway, Hagrid was immediately recognizable. His long beard dripped on the tiles. The figure standing with him sneezed, calling attention to her.

She was small, but even though she was wet, she was beautiful. Her hair was as dark as midnight, and it was long and curly. Her strangely familiar heavy-lidded eyes were a sparkling violet, like small amethyst stones. Her skin was pale, and her smile was gentle. Her robes, a soft green color, were so wet and mucky that their color was more of a brackish brown. A large trunk was nearly as wet as she was, and something small sneezed from the basket which she carried.

"Is it too late for me to be Sorted?"

Her voice was smooth and melodic, fluid and rich. She blinked and sneezed again. Professor Thomas ushered her to the Sorting stool. The Hat settled on her head. Everyone listened, but only she could hear.

"You have quite the past, my dear. Quite a past indeed. You have a lot of potential for greatness, but also a lot of potential to go sour.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat pronounced. The girl obligingly rose and walked over to the table in the back, head held high. She sneezed. Everyone was quiet, mulling over what had just occurred. And, in the quiet, everyone could hear the girl's voice.

"My name is Equity."