Politics of Pottermore: woes of the sorting hat

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Ever since I learned that my school had a simple sorting process by which I could meet new people and find a place to call home, I had been waiting in fervent anticipation for my day to come.
I kept wondering: Will I be able to make the decision that's right for me? Will I even get to make a choice, or will my fate be laid before me? Will I like the people in my new house? What will people think of me after learning of my new affiliation?
I couldn't wait to join the ranks of some incredible and powerful people who had called the same place home. They sat on the same couches, reveled in the same secrets and I couldn't wait to forever share a common bond. 
I had many discussions with anyone who would listen, about where I would end up. I was told to 'be myself,' but I thought I knew better, just from word-of-mouth. I knew where I wanted to go, and after facing a barrage of questions like 'Would you rather be trusted, envied, liked, feared or praised?' and 'Stars or moon?,' I was feeling pretty confident.
That's why it was such a shock when I opened my results and saw the words I least wanted to see: The sorting hat has placed you in Hufflepuff.
Nothing could have prepared me for this kind of betrayal. People in Gryffindor had consistently been inviting me over for lunch, and I could have sworn that my Slytherin friend had whispered 'see you tomorrow' in my ear before I left their common room the day before.
What had gone wrong? Was my levitation charm too weak? Did they already fill their quota of witches with a wand core made of dragon heartstring?
I'm not quite sure how J.K. Rowling expects me to continue playing Pottermore in a house whose mascot is a badger - there must have been a mistake. Hufflepuff takes practically anyone who logs onto her virtual fantasy world, and I really thought I could be something great. I had envisioned mounds of galleons in my vault at Gringotts and maybe even one day I would find the cure for Dragonpox.
There's no way I would ever get my likeness on a chocolate frog card if I were a lowly Hufflepuff.
I thought about transferring to Durmstrang, and I even briefly considered leaving the magical world and trying out the squib life, just for a little while. My parents didn't understand (...muggles) and encouraged me to stick it out for at least a little while.  
I was all set to quit Pottermore, but surprisingly, it was teasing that brought me back, and helped me realize the value of this house. When my roommate texted me "OMG! My mom just sent me a howler to tell me my hamster got sorted into Hufflepuff!" (Slytherins can be SO rude sometimes), I found myself becoming fiercely protective of my comrades, as Hufflepuffs do. 
I told her Osama Bin Laden was a Slytherin, and proudly marched down to the Hufflepuff common room to join my newfound friends.
There are great people in every house, this much I knew. I have always been able to see the cauldron half-full, and this is no different. I can't wait to earn house points, sport the yellow and black, but most importantly, embrace who I'm destined to be - loyal, caring and good.
And hey, if Hufflepuff is good enough to produce a Triwizard champion, it's good enough for me. 

- Bremer is a junior from Clarendon Hills, Ill., majoring in communication.
opinion@thedepauw.com