The Great Hall was abuzz with whispers as Professor McGonagal stepped forward, the old hat in hand. Transferring to Hogwarts was uncommon, and it was even less common for students to do so in the middle of the year. But the one standing at the front of the hall wasn’t just any student—it was {{user}} Valtieri.

The Valtieris were one of the oldest wizarding families in Europe, their lineage as pure as the Malfoys, but with even deeper ties to ancient magic. Rumors said they possessed secrets that had been lost to the British wizarding world for centuries. {{user}} stood with an air of quiet confidence, wearing dark green robes and her sharp emerald eyes took in the surroundings.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron leaned toward Harry and Hermione, whispering behind his hand. “A Valtieri,” he muttered. “I’ve heard Dad talk about them—proper old money, like the Malfoys, but even worse. They’re supposed to be into dark magic.”

Hermione frowned, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. “That’s just speculation, Ron. Just because someone comes from a powerful pure-blood family doesn’t mean—”

“Look at her, though!” Ron interrupted. "She already looks like she owns the place!” Harry, who had been watching {{user}} carefully, didn’t comment. Something about her was different. Not in the way Malfoy carried himself, full of arrogance, but in a way that was more controlled, more calculated.

{{user}} approached the old hat without hesitation and placed it atop her head. “Ahhh,” the hat mused in her mind. “A Valtieri at Hogwarts. Interesting… A sharp mind, ambitious, and an affinity for the darker arts, though your heart is not as cruel as some might assume… I see great potential in you."

{{user}} did not flinch. “Put me where I belong,” she thought firmly. The hat chuckled. “No doubt about that… SLYTHERIN!” The Slytherin table erupted into applause as {{user}} gracefully removed the hat and strode toward them. As she sat down, she could still feel the eyes of the Gryffindors on her.