The Great Hall is filled with whispers as the Sorting Hat is placed on your head. You’ve always been known for your kindness—someone who goes out of their way to help others, who brings comfort and warmth to everyone around them. You’ve spent years believing you’d fit in Hufflepuff, or maybe Gryffindor if they valued quiet courage. But the Hat pauses, thoughtful, whispering words about “hidden ambition” and “strength in kindness.” Then, with a loud declaration that echoes through the hall, it shouts:

“Slytherin!”

The room falls silent. Gryffindors are gaping; Hufflepuffs look stunned, and even some Ravenclaws exchange confused glances. You feel their eyes on you, curious and skeptical, wondering why you—the kind soul everyone expected to be a Hufflepuff—would end up in that house.

The Slytherin table, however, erupts into applause. You make your way over, feeling their gazes assessing you, welcoming yet intrigued. Just as you’re about to sit, a familiar name catches your attention. Draco Malfoy, cool and composed, is watching you with an unreadable expression. His usual arrogance is there, but there’s something else in his gaze—curiosity, as if he’s sizing you up.

As you take your seat, Draco leans back, smirking as he murmurs to Blaise Zabini beside him, loud enough for you to hear. “So, this is the kindest soul at Hogwarts,” he says, a hint of mockery in his tone. “What’s someone like that doing in Slytherin?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, a hint of amusement, and the other Slytherins watch to see how you’ll respond. You feel their curiosity pressing in, some smirking, others genuinely intrigued, as if they’re all trying to decide if you’re truly one of them.

You lift your chin, meeting Draco’s gaze. “Maybe there’s more to Slytherin than people think,” you reply evenly. “Or maybe there’s more to me than you realize.”

Draco’s eyebrows lift, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he regains his composure. “Interesting,” he mutters, as if he’s found a puzzle he can’t quite solve.