As I was growing up, my mother constantly reminded me to,
“choose [my] friends wisely.” There are some ways Harry Potter ruined my life and my relationship with my mother. My mother is an incredibly sweet woman and if the
sorting hat had ever gotten ahold of her, she’d have been designated a
permanent Hufflepuff. Sadly for her, she raised a kid who is a die-hard Slytherin; I was
practically born with a dark mark and a cruel wand. So even though she meant
well by telling me to choose my friends wisely, she failed to take into account
the difference between her definition of "good" and mine.
My mom valued things like politeness and gratitude, whereas I was
significantly more interested in finding people who were willing to go along
with my evil kid-plans. As life advanced and I selected my group of permanent friends, the people whom I’ll cherish forever regardless of their active presence or absence in my
life, it’s no surprise that my best friends are Slytherin too, just like me.
When it comes to BFFs, I’m dang lucky. I have someone who
understands me and is fine with the random shenanigans (for which he’s usually
responsible) I get up to. But, as you might guess, there are a few distinct side effects to having a BFF in
Slytherin House. With a Slytherin always at your side, things happen a little
bit differently. Of course, by “differently” I mean there’s always a chance
it’s going to end in law-breaking and/or bloodshed. But hey, you signed on for this friendship.