“What’s being a gryffindor like?” someone asks. How do you answer that question? You know, objectively, that everyone in your house is different and yet you also know that the underlying values between you and your housemates are all the same. “Well first you have to understand that we aren’t all brave,” you muse. “In fact many of us are afraid, terrified even. For most of us it’s not about being fearless; it’s about knowing our fear takes second place. All of us have a cause that is more important than our sense of self preservation.” There is silence for a while, everyone considering your words. Your answer doesn’t explain the recklessness and general distrust for authority that is shared among the members of your house. But maybe it doesn’t need to.
“I guess the best way to describe it is sweaty palms right before you get that piercing you’ve always wanted but were too afraid of the pain to get; or maybe the swooping feeling your stomach makes when you ride a roller coaster. It’s the shake in your voice when you don't want to start an argument but you know if you don’t say something nobody else will. It’s wanting to scream but knowing if you start, you may never stop.”
Someone snorts, “that’s deep.” You throw your head back, roaring with laughter and just like that philosophical questions about the nature of bravery are forgotten. ♚
