Harry walked between Ron and Hermione, weaving towards their table.

“Hey, Harry!”

Draco was lounging at his table. "Is it true,” he called loudly enough for half the hall to hear, “that your sister is starting this year?”

Harry whipped his head towards Ron and Hermione. “How did he find out?” he hissed.

“Not now!” Hermione muttered, throwing a pointed glance at the staff table.

Sure enough, the headmaster had risen. His eyes swept the room, a faint, knowing smile resting on his face.

“This year,” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly to every corner of the hall, “Miss {{user}}, Harry’s sister, will be joining us. Let’s have her sorted without delay.”

The massive doors at the back creaked open, and you stepped through.

Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of eyes followed you as you walked forward, heads tilting and whispers flaring up.

You moved forward, each step slow but steady. The long aisle seemed to stretch endlessly towards the front where the Hat waited upon a high stool.

When you finally sat down, the brim of the hat was lowered over your head.

“Well, well, well,” a voice drawled in your mind. “I know your bloodline… and I see much of it in you. A sharp mind, a hunger to prove yourself… a resilience most would underestimate. You think quickly... too quickly sometimes... but you trust your instincts. And oh, the ambition. You want to step out of the shadows, to shape your own fate.”

You swallowed. That doesn’t mean—

“—That you belong anywhere else?” the Hat cut in. “I see the spark of loyalty, yes… the flash of bravery… but those are tools for the truly cunning. And you, my dear, would wield them with precision. The path you could walk in Serpentine… ah, it’s glorious.”

You gripped the edge of the stool. Harry won’t like this.

“Harry isn’t wearing me,” the Hat said firmly. “I know exactly where you belong.”

Before you could argue, the brim snapped open and the Hat roared to the hall. “Serpentine!”

At the table, Hermione turned sharply to Harry, her eyes wide. “She can’t be there! This is ridiculous!”

At the Serpentine table, Draco was already smirking. He slid over deliberately, patting the bench beside him as though he’d planned it for weeks. “Right here,” he said smoothly.

As you sat down beside Draco, the air seemed to shift. “Welcome to the better side,” he murmured.