Aquila woke up to the sound of her brother's voice and the overwhelming feeling of being shaken to death. Her eyelids stuck to her eyes, and she waved her arms around fruitlessly, trying to stop her attacker from shaking her any further. "Naaaaash!" She grumbled. "Naaaaaaaaa!"

Her brother removed his hands from her shoulders and stood up straight again, and although Aquila could not see him, she knew he was straightening his clothes and fixing his hair. "Aquila, it's time to eat. Get up and head downstairs."

She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few time to adjust her vision. "Is there bacon?" the girl asked. Her voice was groggy and gravelly, and she began to sit up and stretch. The colors of her bedroom filled her view, and the face of her annoyed older brother became clearer.

"Yes, there is," he said. "Hurry up, Aquila. We leave for the station in an hour." Nash left the room, closing the door behind him, not waiting for a reply from his sister. Aquila was now sitting fully upright on top of her bed, and although she was tired, the excitement of the day took hold of her, and she sprang out of her bed, pushing the pink and silver bed sheets off of her body. She rushed over to her closet; it was a walk in type, and on every side of her, there were clothes of every color. She had already packed away her favorite outfits in her Hogwarts trunk, but she had laid out a special outfit for that morning the day before. In between a fuzzy black coat and a cute floral dress was a gray, long sleeve shirt with colorful, angular shapes starting at the bottom and rising to the top, slowly fading out into the gray. To go with it, she added a simple pair of black pants.

She left the closet and rushed over to her mirror to brush the knots out of her long blonde hair. Even after her best efforts, a few pesky strands insisted on sticking out, so she dug around for a hair potion that would keep her hair in place for the day. She made a note to remember to pack it in her trunk; she didn't want to have a bad hair day at school if she could prevent it. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, and the reflection smiled back at her, but something was missing. Aquila's eyes trailed down to her neck, and she knew instantly what it was that she was missing--a necklace!

She kept all of her jewelry on the top of her dresser, and she had them all organized by color. She was looking specifically for her lucky necklace that she wore for all of the big days of her life; it was small, silver chain with an eagle charm dangling from the end of it. The eagle had been (and would always be) her favorite animal, mainly because it was her namesake. Aquila came from the constellation of the eagle, and she found them beautiful and majestic. It was her father who had gotten her the necklace, and that was another part of the reason she felt like it was lucky. Her father was one of the only people in her family who allowed her to be herself, and he knew her better than anyone else. Since he thought the eagle was a good representation of what he called her "spirit," she wore the necklace whenever she was feeling particularly nervous or even excited.

She found the eagle necklace and positioned it around her neck, adjusting it to fall at exactly the right stop on her shirt so that it wouldn't fall behind the fabric as she moved throughout the day. Once she was finished, she packed the hair potion in her trunk and left her room, ready for breakfast. The rest of her family was in the kitchen, and as soon as she neared the room they inhabited, the sweet smell of bacon and eggs reached her nostrils, and she raced to her seat, smiling at the delightful food on her plate. As she ate, her mother watched her through scouring eyes. Aquila pretended not to notice this, and she continued eating, not caring at all about what her mother was undoubtedly going to remark about.

Her father was sitting across from her at the table, reading the latest issue of The Daily Prophet. Aquila's eyes fell on a moving image of a Quidditch game. Although she wasn't a huge fan of the sport, she found something cool about flying on brooms, although she herself would never get on a broom; she was terrified of heights and flying.

"Do you have all of your things packed, Aquila?" Vega asked, and Aquila's attention shifted from her father's newspaper to her mother's gaze. Behind the woman, the pots and pans used in the making of breakfast were scrubbing themselves clean, and the sink was filled with bubbles.

"Yes, Mother, I do," she said confidently. The small girl took another bite of her scrambled eggs.

"Are you sure, dear?" her mother asked.

Aquila nodded, not wanting to speak with her mouth full of food.

"You had best double check your trunk," Vega instructed. "I don't want to have to mail anything to the school because you forgot to pack it. Nash never gives me any trouble with this sort of thing."

Aquila swallowed her food as quickly as possible so she could make a rebuttal while the timing was still right. "But I haven't forgotten anything yet," she told the woman.

"You will," Vega said matter-of-factly, "and I'm informing you that I will not be sending those things to you once you've left them. Go and double check."

"But, Mother, I already double checked!" she exclaimed. "Why do I have to do it again?"

Vega snapped, and her eyes began to narrow as she spoke. "You will do as I say, young lady. Go check your trunk."

"But I'm eating. Surely, you don't want me to starve on the train," the girl replied, defiantly stabbing a strip of bacon with her fork and shoving it in her mouth.

"Aquila Vega Whitman," her mother scolded. "Stop it with the back talk this instant! Regor, intervene!"

Regor set his newspaper down on the table and let out an exasperated sigh. "Aquila, finish your breakfast and then check your bags, please."

Aquila rolled her eyes, but she did as he instructed. After finishing the last of her bacon, she went back to the familiar pink walls of her room. She closed the door and started at the walls for a moment, shaking her head. "I hate pink," she mumbled under her breath. She walked over to her trunk and opened it up. After sifting through everything, she had closed it back up and sighed. "I knew I had everything already..."

There was a knock at her door a few seconds later, and she put a fake smile on her face just in case it was Vega. "Yes?" she asked the person behind the white door.

"Can I come in?" her brother asked. "I want to talk to you, Aquila."

"Unless it's an apology for last night, I don't want to hear it," she replied.

Nash opened the door and entered her room anyway, and he closed it slowly and soundlessly, proceeding to sit down next to her on the floor. "Before you get on that train today, there are a few things you need to know," he said.

"I've already heard it all from Mother," she told him. "In order to uphold the treasured Whitman name, I must be Sorted into Slytherin and make friends with only those of the purest blood." Her tone was stylized and dramatic to add to how ridiculous she found the whole situation. Why did it matter what House she was in? She was still the same person, no matter the outcome. What did it matter if the scarf around her neck was green or yellow or blue or scarlet? It was just a color; it was just a title.

"You say that like it's an option," Nash replied. His words were weighty, but Aquila hardly cared. "This is more important than you know. People have been shut out of the family for their House. This is the most vital tradition of our family, and you are no exception."

"Vital, shmital," the girl spat, rolling her eyes. "It's just a bloody House. Hogwarts isn't forever, so what's the point?"

"You know about the Blacks, right?" he asked her.

"Of course I know about the Blacks!" she answered. "They come over almost every weekend."

"Then you know about Andromeda," Nash assumed.

Aquila remembered vaguely what the stars had said about her. She had been a Slytherin and a child of the House of Black. She must've done something wrong if Nash was insisting on talking about her, but Aquila couldn't remember what.

"She married a mudblood and was cast out of the family," he concluded.

"I have no plans on marrying a mudblood, or anyone for that matter," she told him. "How is this relevant?"

"And have you heard of Sirius Black?"

"The mass-murderer, yeah, I have," she said. "Again, not relevant to me."

"But it is, Quil," he insisted. "Sirius was a Gryffindor."

"That explains the mass-murderer thing, then. Gryffindors are bloody nutty."

"That's not what I meant, Quil. Mass-murderer or not, he was cast out of the Black family for being in Gryffindor."

"I still don't know why you're on about all this," Aquila admitted. "We aren't Blacks."

"They're our relatives," Nash informed her. "And if there's anything Mother loves in this life, it's being well-liked by the Blacks."

"It's rubbish," she stated. "Mother's been trying to win back their favor for years, and she still hasn't. It's no use at this point."

"That's not the point," he said. "Point is, Mother will cast out anyone who isn't a pureblood Slytherin, simply to gain the favor of the Blacks. You are no exception."

"She wouldn't abandon her own daughter," Aquila scoffed.

"She would. In a heartbeat."

She didn't know why those words shocked her. Truly, she had known them before they were spoken, but hearing them out loud, from someone else... they rattled up her insides and shook her to her very core. The girl didn't fear much—she loved the darkness, and she wasn't afraid of the monster under her bed—but her mother frightened her. She hid it away underneath the same false smiles and fake signs of interest as her mother had; in order to keep herself from wallowing in fear of the woman, Aquila imitated her.

As much as she hated her mother for choosing Nash over her and for reprimanding her over the smallest of things, Aquila loved her mother. If she didn't, there would be no reason to fear her, no reason to imitate her. Beneath her fear was love, and she never wanted her mother's hate. If a color and a title was all it took to gain her mother's favor, even for just a moment, Aquila would get that title.

Aquila had been silent for a long while, and Nash cleared his throat, bringing her back from her thoughts. "I'm only telling you this because I care about you, Aquila," he said.

Aquila nodded. "I get it," she told him. "Originality is frowned upon here, and if I want to be who I really am, I'll end up living on the streets. I understand, Nash. You can leave now... wouldn't want you to waste your valuable time on me when you could be gawking at your Prefect's badge in the mirror instead."

"Aquila—"

She cut him off. "You've said enough. Just go." Nash left her room without another word, and he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The stars always preached "being true to yourself." Your identity is the most important matter in earthly life. If you are not living the truth you feel inside, you are living a lie. She wanted to believe that they were right; she wanted nothing more than to stop imitating her mother and pretending to care about small talk. She didn't want to keep up an appearance that she abhorred... All she wanted to do was be herself, and despite not knowing exactly whom she was, she knew that it wasn't the daughter her mother wanted. She couldn't keep herself and her family happy at the same time.

It wasn't just about Hogwarts. She found no meaning at all in something as trivial as a Hogwarts House—it's just a system to sort what classes one has at what time. To her, it didn't matter if a person was a Hufflepuff or a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor or a Slytherin (although she did find Gryffindors to be rather rambunctious); all that mattered was staying true to herself. Slytherin was the House of ambition and cunning, and yes, she was both of those things. But Gryffindor was the House of the brave and chivalrous, and those were things she wanted to be. Ravenclaw sounded great as well—knowledgeable and creative. But in her eyes, Hufflepuff was the House to rival them all. Kindness and loyalty were things that were so often too hard to come by in the Whitman family. Aquila knew that Hufflepuff was the House that she would choose—that is, if she had a choice. She didn't know the specifics of the Sorting at Hogwarts, and she knew that her parents would murder her knowing that she willingly chose anything but Slytherin.

There was nothing the girl wanted more than to have the freedom to make her own choices. She brought her hands to the eagle necklace she wore and wrapped the silver trinket between her fingers. If only, she thought, but she knew there was no "if only." She was stuck with her family, and since she didn't want to lose them, her only option was to join them. If Houses were so important to them, she would make it important to her. If keeping up appearances was a priority, then she would make herself presentable all hours of the day. Aquila Vega Whitman would live up to her namesake... just not the one she'd hoped to first.