The sorting hat is placed on your head. It says nothing. After what seemed like an eternity, the hat says, “Impossible. You shouldn’t exist.”
You pause and whisper “I know” you had known you were special since the day you were born ,no not being a wizard something.. else. Something impossible. You could look throughout every single universe and soak up as much information like a sponge living your 11 years of life with information no one could of possibly of known but what was impossible was that you were dreaming the whole time and as you set your eyes upon dumbledore mouthing an universal secret you suddenly wake up. Your at your home you feel as if 11 years have passed you by without notice, your freinds take suspision your not your usual cheerful self, your burdened with something ,information perhaps? Well this world will never know.
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