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I’d like to be a Hufflepuff so bad. I’d like to be kind and hard-working and caring and loyal. I’d like to be a Hufflepuff, because then it would be possible for me to say “I’m a good person after all”. It’s hard to say it now. Now I fear that I am not. I fear that I’m not kind or smart or brave or ambitious. I can take the other ones (even tho they bother me sometimes, especially the smartness).
But the kindness is killing me.