You and Tom Blyth enjoy a winter vacation in Old Quebec, with spontaneous adventures like a snowy serenade, a sophisticated croissant-tasting escapade, and a lively market carnival. The story captures the magic of love, laughter, and shared moments...
The cozy cabin in Old Quebec provided the perfect setting for an evening of relaxation and whimsy. The crackling fire warmed the room as you and Tom settled in, the soft glow casting dancing shadows on the walls. Tom, with a mischievous grin, suggested a bit of magical fun – taking the official Hogwarts house sorting quiz on his iPhone.
As the questions unfolded, Tom answered with a mix of excitement and anticipation, each question accompanied by a sip of beer. The prospect of being sorted into one of the prestigious houses at Hogwarts seemed to ignite a spark of childlike wonder in him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.
After a series of questions that delved into Tom's personality and preferences, the moment of truth arrived. The iPhone screen displayed the words, "Congratulations! You are a Slytherin!"
Tom's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and delight. "Yes! Slytherin, just as I hoped!" he exclaimed, raising his beer in a triumphant toast.
You, holding your own beer, raised an eyebrow. "Slytherin, huh? Are you sure you didn't use some secret charm to influence the quiz?"
Tom, now a bit tipsy and feeling theatrical, feigned innocence, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Use magic to get into Slytherin? How dare you accuse me of such cunning!"
You couldn't contain your amusement, taking a playful sip of your beer. "Tom, let's be real here. I've seen you rescue spiders from the shower. Slytherin may not be your natural habitat."
Tom leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, beer in hand. "Ah, but you see, I have a cunning side, a serpent-like grace, if you will."
You playfully rolled your eyes. "Serpent-like grace, huh? I think Hufflepuff suits you better, or maybe even Gryffindor with your dramatic flair."
Tom, maintaining his Slytherin pride, protested, "But Slytherin is where the real adventure is! The cunning, the ambition—it's the house of champions!"
You shook your head, taking another sip of your beer, a teasing smile on your face. "You just want to wear the green and silver, don't you? Slytherin fashion over everything."
Tom, raising his beer in defiance, pretended to be offended. "How could you accuse me of such shallowness? Slytherin is where I belong!"
You both erupted into laughter, the clinking of beer bottles adding to the jovial atmosphere. "Alright, Slytherin, the house of champions. But deep down, we all know you're a soft-hearted Hufflepuff at heart."
Tom, joining in the laughter, conceded, "Maybe you're right. Hufflepuff does have the comfiest common room. But let's keep that between us, shall we? Slytherin pride and all that."
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