"Are you certain you want Slytherin?" the Sorting Hat asked inside Jamie's head. Its voice was dry, ancient, and faintly curious, as though it had not expected that answer from him.
"Yes, Mr Sorting Hat," Jamie replied without hesitation. "Sort me into Slytherin."
"Very well," the Hat said. "Since you have made up your mind, then go to—SLYTHERIN!"
The long table under the green and silver banners broke into applause, though it was noticeably more restrained than the welcome from the other houses. Slytherins were not the sort to cheer wildly for a stranger just because the Hat had placed him among them. They watched first, measured second, and decided later whether someone was worth respect.
Most of the students at the Slytherin table came from old pure-blood families, though there were half-bloods among them as well. The house had always been proud, ambitious, and difficult to enter from the outside, especially for anyone with a Muggle-born background. It also had the smallest number of students among the four houses, and its Head of House was Severus Snape, the pale, sharp-eyed professor who taught Potions.
Jamie removed the Sorting Hat and set it back on the stool. The scent of perfume still clung to it so strongly that Professor McGonagall's lips tightened, but she said nothing. Jamie walked toward the Slytherin table with perfect calm and chose an empty seat near the front.
The Slytherins around him gave him cool, assessing looks. No one rushed to greet him, but no one was stupid enough to provoke him either. After the scene with the Sorting Hat, the spells he had cast, and the strange reaction Dumbledore had shown to his face, only an idiot would treat Jamie Bauer as an ordinary first year.
"Oh my God," Ron whispered from the first-year line, his face twisting with worry. "Jamie got Sorted into Slytherin. That's really bad."
"Why?" Harry asked quietly. "What's wrong with Slytherin?"
He still knew very little about Hogwarts and its houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin were mostly names to him, and he had not had time to understand what they meant beyond the hints everyone else kept dropping.
"Well," Ron muttered, leaning closer, "people say Slytherin produces loads of dark wizards. You-Know-Who was in Slytherin, and loads of bad dark wizards came from there too."
Harry's face changed at once. He had no fondness for any house connected to Voldemort, not when that man had murdered his parents and left him with the scar on his forehead. Suddenly, the idea of being Sorted into Slytherin felt far more frightening than wearing an old hat in front of the school.
"That sounds terrible," Harry whispered. "What if I get put there too?"
"I think I'll go to Gryffindor," Ron said, though even he sounded nervous. "My whole family has been in Gryffindor. I hope you get Sorted there too, Harry, so we can stay together."
Harry nodded, but his stomach was tight. The Sorting Hat made the final decision, and he had no idea what it would see in him. For the first time since entering the Great Hall, he wished he had some control over the outcome.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"
"Hufflepuff!"
The Sorting continued. Some students barely had the Hat touch their heads before it called out their house, while others had to sit for a while as the Hat considered them. The waiting was almost worse than the result, because every extra second made the student on the stool look more exposed beneath the gaze of the whole school.
"Hermione Granger!"
Hermione walked to the stool with her chin lifted, though her nervous hands gave her away. The Hat slipped over her bushy hair and fell low across her eyes, and then it stayed silent. One minute passed, then another, and the Great Hall began to murmur softly.
Nearly five minutes went by before the Hat finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Hermione pulled off the Hat with visible relief and hurried toward the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors applauded loudly, making room for her near the front. She sat down quickly, still looking as though she had just survived an exam for which she had prepared too well.
A long Sorting like that was rare enough to be noticed. When the Sorting Hat could not immediately decide where a student belonged, it often held a private conversation with them, weighing their traits and sometimes even listening to their wishes. Hermione had likely hovered between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, her cleverness pulling one way and her courage the other.
"It's a shame Jamie went to Slytherin," Fred said at the Gryffindor table, clapping for Hermione before leaning toward George. "He would have been brilliant in Gryffindor."
"Doesn't mean he's bad," George replied, though he still sounded disappointed. "Not every Slytherin is evil. I don't think Jamie's the type to become a dark wizard just because he got a green tie."
"Neville Longbottom!"
Neville nearly dropped Trevor as he stepped forward. He sat on the stool with his shoulders hunched, and the Hat covered almost his entire face. Like Hermione, he took a long time, though for different reasons. The Hat was not choosing between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for him; it seemed to be weighing Gryffindor against Hufflepuff.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Neville looked stunned. Then he pulled off the Hat, stumbled toward the Gryffindor table, and almost forgot to put the Hat back until Professor McGonagall gently reminded him. The Gryffindors cheered warmly as he sat down, and Hermione moved aside to make space for him.
"Draco Malfoy!"
Draco strode forward with the air of someone already certain of the answer. The Hat had barely touched his pale blond hair before it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
That decision surprised no one. Many children from old pure-blood families were Sorted almost instantly, as if the Hat had already learned to recognise certain bloodlines, values, and expectations before they sat down. Draco smirked as he removed the Hat and hurried toward the Slytherin table, joining Crabbe and Goyle with obvious satisfaction.
His satisfaction lasted only until Jamie chose the seat beside him.
Draco stiffened. Crabbe and Goyle froze too, looking between Jamie and Draco with the dull alarm of boys who understood danger only after it sat down next to them. Draco's earlier confidence cracked at once.
"You…" Draco swallowed. "What do you want? There are professors everywhere."
"I don't want anything right now," Jamie said pleasantly. "In truth, there isn't much conflict between us. I've always been the sort of person who leaves others alone if they leave me alone."
Draco stared at him, clearly unsure whether this was reassurance or a threat. Jamie smiled, which did not help.
"If you are friendly to me, then I will be friendly to you," Jamie continued. "But if you are unkind to me, I will return it tenfold. You understand what to do now, don't you, Malfoy?"
"Yes," Draco said quietly. "I understand."
The Sorting moved on, name after name called beneath the enchanted ceiling. Students went to Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin, each one greeted by applause from their new house. Then, at last, Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the Great Hall.
"Harry Potter!"
The effect was immediate. The entire hall seemed to lean forward. Whispers broke out at all four tables, and even the professors at the staff table focused more closely on the small black-haired boy standing in the first-year line.
Harry stepped forward in a daze. He could feel hundreds of eyes on him, hear his name travelling in hushed bursts from table to table, and sense the weight of a reputation he had never asked for. By the time he sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the Hat on his head, his legs were trembling.
The Hat slid over his eyes, shutting out the Great Hall. Harry sat rigidly in the darkness beneath the brim, his heart pounding as one thought rose above all the others. Not Slytherin. Please, not Slytherin.
For a moment, the Hat considered. Then its voice rang out for everyone to hear.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry yanked the Hat off and stood almost unsteadily. Relief washed through him so strongly that the hall blurred for a second, and he walked toward the Gryffindor table as if in a dream.
The Gryffindors erupted. Their applause was thunderous, louder than anything that had come before, and Percy Weasley sprang to his feet to shake Harry's hand as soon as he reached the table. Fred and George were shouting over everyone else, pounding the table with both hands.
"We've got Potter!" they roared together. "We've got Potter!"
.....
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