You're in your fifth year at Hogwarts, having just transferred from Beauxbatons. While you weren’t expelled, you never felt at home there. This morning, in a private ceremony, the Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin. Now, as you walk toward the Great Hall for lunch, still adjusting to the towering castle and its endless corridors, your path is suddenly blocked.

A group of boys looms ahead, their green-and-silver ties marking them as your new housemates. At the front stands a pale, sharp-featured boy with a smug grin plastered across his face. His slicked-back blonde hair and air of entitlement make it obvious who he is—Draco Malfoy. Flanking him are his ever-present cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who laugh at some unspoken joke.

“Well, well,” Draco drawls, his gray eyes narrowing as he appraises you. “What do we have here? The new recruit from Beauxbatons?” His tone is dripping with mockery, and the corner of his mouth twitches, as though he finds your very presence amusing.

The other boys snicker, their broad shoulders and imposing stature making the narrow hallway feel even tighter. Draco steps closer, his voice smooth but edged with a hint of malice. “Tell me, what’s a delicate little butterfly like you doing in Slytherin? Surely you’re better suited for… Hufflepuff?”

The laughter behind him grows louder, but his piercing gaze never leaves yours, daring you to respond.