Gryffindor: fast decisions, impulsivity, temperament. A sparkle in
the eyes. The will to fight for everything you want. Ambition. Bonfires and
drunk words. Dragons and knights and swords. Loud voices in a hallway. Always
saying what they’re thinking. Laying outside with the sun shining on their
face. Heavily breathing. Running. Wide grins. Falling in love not easily, but
when they do, they’re falling hard and love deeply and fiercely. Making other
people laugh so hard their sides hurt. Long car rides and singing along loudly
with the windows down. Peace signs for a photo. Fierce eyeliner and red
lipstick combined with colourful clothing and golden accessories.
Ravenclaw: overthinking things. Worrying. Not handing in homework
because they were to busy working on their latest project. Not finishing
something and already starting something new. Ink stained fingertips.
Instrumental music. Posting a quote under every picture. Creativity. Self-made
birthday gifts. Staring at the rain pouring down the windowpane. Sitting in the
car and acting like a movie star when a sad song is playing. Earphones on the
table. Holding a hot cup of tea. Art journals. Notebooks with half the words stroked.
Messy hair. Bringing books to school. Hugging someone when they’re upset without
saying a word. Bucket lists full of things they didn’t do yet. Bronze
eyeshadow. Dark lipstick.
Hufflepuff: always trying to smile even though they might not be
feeling well. Long hugs when they see their friends. The smell of freshly baked
cakes and muffins. Sandcastles. Trusting. Understanding. Running home under an
umbrella when it’s raining but still smiling. Holding hands with your best
friend in public. Laughs in the middle of the night on a sleepover. Daisy
chains in your hair. Always sending a good night message to the people they
love. Wool socks. Rubber boots. Making compliments. Decorating notebooks with
stickers. Marshmallows. Rosé and orange lipstick.
Slytherin: mysterious, reserved. Competitive. Silent whispers in
the hallway. Black coffee. Planning out things. Always afraid they’re not who
they’re supposed to be. High expectations for themselves. Clean rooms. Emo
lyrics on exercise book papers. City lights. Watching the stars appear with a
glass of red wine. Smirks, raising one eyebrow. Being careful not to leave
marks in the books they read. Moonlight through a window. Sharp retorts. The
smell of cologne and brand new books. Dark chocolate. Black and white
photography. Mint leaves in a cup of hot tea. Keeping a diary. Winged eyeliner
and silver bracelets and necklaces.
“Isak, my man. Why is this shirt laying here?” Mahdi picked the dark fabric up from where it laid by the door of their new flat. Isak looked up from where he was collecting up empty beer cans, raised his brows.
“Oh, im tossing that out. It got too short for me.” Isak shrugged and continued to tidy up. Mahdi considered the shirt in his hand, unfolded it and held it up in front of him.
With golden string our universe was clothed in light. Pulling at the seams, our once barren world now brims with life, that we may fall in love every time we open up our eyes. I guess space and time takes violent things, angry things and makes them kind.