I am, without shame, a child of the Harry Potter generation.
I wholeheartedly claimed to be a Gryffindor. I have a Gryffindor Quidditch hoodie, tote bag, and tee shirt. I admired their bravery and albeit, rash decision making skills.
I grew up idolizing Hermoine. Between the love of books, the tolerance of boys' shenanigans, a fuzzy furball, and the seemingly unruly hair, I found my literary heroine. Heck, I named one of my cats Crookshanks in her honor.
But, dear readers, it's time to be honest.
I am not a Gryffindor.
I am a Ravenclaw.
Between the sassy comments, love of witty repartee, and dry sense of humor, this is my true house.
I must not buy all the cute Ravenclaw things on {Etsy}.
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