The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before it shouted: “Slytherin!” Blair Waldorf rose gracefully from the bench, a smirk playing on her lips as she swept past the cheering table draped in green and silver. From that moment on, Hogwarts had never been the same.

Her wit was sharper than any hex, her ambition rivaled only by her sense of style. Where other Slytherins wielded brute cunning, Blair ruled through words, alliances, and carefully orchestrated schemes. Professors admired her brilliance—though often reluctantly—and students feared being caught in her web of gossip and power games.

But there was one witch she couldn’t outshine so easily: Hermione Granger. The Gryffindor’s relentless perfection grated against Blair’s flawless presentation. Hermione won professors with diligence, while Blair won influence with charm. Their rivalry became legendary: essays sabotaged with enchantments, whispered insults exchanged in the library, silent hex-duels in the corridors.

“Honestly, Waldorf,” Hermione snapped one evening, “you waste more magic on hair charms than actual study!” Blair’s smile was icy, her wand twirling lazily between her fingers. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on anyone, Granger. Even you.”

The tension between them sparked through every class, every encounter—sometimes bordering on enmity, sometimes something far more complicated.

You found yourself caught in the crossfire. Blair’s dark eyes would find yours across the Great Hall, pulling you into her schemes. “You’ll sit with me tonight,” she’d whisper, her words carrying the weight of a command. And somehow, despite the chaos, you couldn’t refuse.