[System initiating...]
You have been selected by the Convergence System—a multidimensional construct that bridges all fictional realities.
You are now connected to the Gacha Interface.]
'Uhhh, what?' I ask myself intelligently.
"Let's go!" Tracey pulls me from my seat, blinking the golden, semi-transparent message away. I shake my head and follow after the others. This…system can wait until I am alone.
Yet, my heart is beating rapidly with anticipation.
As I step out of the train, the moonlight shines above us, illuminating the crowd of students as some go towards carriages and smaller silhouettes duckling towards a giant of a man.
Hagrid.
The movies do him no justice; he's a huge motherfucker. Towering over us as his lantern guides us as we follow down many stairs until we reach rowboats floating on the lake.
My group and I get on one as others do the same. Throughout this walk, many students have been chattering, including Tracey and Daphne, but I wasn't paying much attention.
Come on, I have a damn system I want to explore but can't at the moment!
I take a deep breath as Blaise looks at me and raises an eyebrow as if he's ready to smell what he's cooking. I just shake my head and grin towards the barely visible castle.
Gasps are heard, including mine, as Hogwarts is bared before us, and damn, it's breathtaking. You can see how magical it is. Disney has nothing on this.
We all stay silent as we reach the coast and climb the stairs to some doors. Hagrid knocks, and it opens, revealing Minerva McGonagall.
Now, up to this moment I have not cared much about the main characters, but seeing a younger version of McGonagall instead of Dame Maggie Smith makes me wonder what else is different.
This version has small similarities to the actress but looks more lively since she is imbued with magic, meaning she ages slower.
She guides us inside until we reach the doors to the Great Hall. Turning to us, she gives us a sweep of her eyes, making some, like a chubby boy, try to make themselves more presentable. That must be Neville Longbottom.
She then opens the doors and walks us to the Sorting Hat. I look up and see the enchanted ceiling, and I immediately want one in my room.
My fellow first-years look nervous, but who wouldn't be being stared at by a hall full of students waiting on us to finally eat?
The hat opens its mouth? And sings a catchy song that I can appreciate. When it finishes, we all clap.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Before the Welcoming Feast, we must sort all first-year students into their proper houses." She begins with a slight Scottish accent.
"The Sorting Ceremony is very important. While you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. The four houses are called Gryffindor, the brave and chivalrous," making Hermione perk up.
"Hufflepuff, the kind and diligent." Which, if I'm completely honest, I wouldn't have minded being in, but duty calls.
"Ravenclaw, the witty and wise. And Slytherin, the cunning and ambitious." Cunning? Well, shit.
"Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you all will be fine additions to their ranks. ...and now for...Abbott, Hanna!" She begins as a girl with pigtails runs to be sorted.
"Hufflepuff!"
One by one everyone is called, and I take the time to look at the professors. I don't know if it's magic nonsense, but most of them look younger and different than their movie counterparts.
Snape looks a little like the great Alan Rickman, except if he let himself go. Bro, get some Head & Shoulders for the love of Merlin.
"Davis, Tracey." I turn my attention to my friend as she walks quickly to be sorted. Honestly, getting to know her this past year, it would seem she belongs in either Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, but this girl has something as large as mine.
"Slytherin!" the hat calls out.
Ambition.
I smile as she looks at me with a giant smile and walks to the Slytherin table.
"Granger, Hermione!"..."Gryffindor!"
"Greengrass, Daphne!" My friend walks with grace and sits with an indifferent look. "Slytherin!"
Rejoice, for the Queen of Slytherin has arrived, plebeians. I chuckle internally.
"Potter, Harry!" Mcgonagall reads out.
The abrupt whispers are really too much. A short, clearly malnourished, black-haired boy walks up.
The usual wait, like in the book and various fanfics, occurs, making me look at my imaginary watch.
"Gryffindor!" It would have been so easy to befriend the kid at the station and sort him into Slytherin, but I honestly didn't want the drama.
Fuck me because now I have to either help the kid or destroy the Horcruxes myself. Ugh, I keep forgetting I'm a kid myself.
"Rosier, Timothy." I notice some purebloods perk up at my name. I'm not sure if it's because of my existence, but the Rosier family is a close second as the richest pureblood family. Mostly due to Mother Dearest's social and economic strategies.
'Ah… Timothy Rosier. Now this is interesting. Very interesting indeed.' The hat speaks into my mind.
'Let me guess,' I think as I roll my eyes, 'my name is already doing half the work?'
'Your name, perhaps. But your mind? Much more complex. You're clever. Kind-hearted too, though you hide it well. Curious… You'd do well in Ravenclaw.' it notes.
'I'd never get anything done. I'd be lost in a sea of debates and footnotes.' I reply back.
'Fair. But you're loyal as well. Protective. You'd thrive in Hufflepuff.' I nod, already expecting it.
'Maybe. But I don't want to thrive. I want to be free. And I want power, the kind no one can take from me.'
The Sorting Hat hums thoughtfully.
'Power, yes… but not for cruelty. Not even for recognition. You want to learn, to experience. To live.' It utters.
'Exactly.'
'Oh, you'll fit right in. A snake in spirit, if not in soul. Better be…
"SLYTHERIN!"
I remove the Sorting Hat, place it on the stool, tap it gently, nod towards McGonagall, and walk calmly with a slight smile to the Slytherin table. I sit across from the girls.
The sorting continues with no discrepancies from canon. As Blaise sits next to me, Dumbledore stands and gives his "don't do this, don't go here or die" spiel.
Then the magic happens. A feast appears before me, and as always, I control my urge to dive in Viking style.
My training kicks in, and I fill my plate with delicious-looking food and eat with decorum as expected of me. The game has started, and I need to appear like the pureblood heir my name requires of me.
From there everything blurs as we finish our dinner and are sent to the dungeons. The entrance to the dorms appears as we come close, like snakes unraveling to reveal the entrance.
This is like Hogwarts Legacy. Nice.
The Slytherin common room was darker than I expected. Not ominous—just old. Comfortable, in a gothic sort of way. Green light shimmered through the glass windows looking out into the lake, giving everything an underwater hush.
We stood in neat rows, first-years freshly sorted, robes a little too crisp, shoes a little too polished. I could feel the stares, not just from the older students sizing us up, but from the ghosts of reputation. Of blood. Of expectations. Especially mine.
And then he entered.
Severus Snape glided across the room like a shadow with purpose. His robes billowed, his presence eclipsed conversation instantly. I recognized that look: intense, unreadable, coiled with control.
He stopped in front of us. Quiet. The room obeyed.
"Welcome to Slytherin."
His voice was like chilled silk—soft, but cutting. Every syllable polished and deliberate. I felt a chill crawl up my spine, not from fear, but recognition. This man didn't tolerate noise. He tolerated results.
"You are here because the Sorting Hat has seen something in each of you—ambition, resourcefulness, cunning, and a certain disregard for rules… when necessary."
Disregard for rules. My favorite phrase so far. I caught Tracey smirking out of the corner of my eye. I kept my face blank. Snape's eyes were moving. We were being measured, sorted again, not by a hat but by something far more dangerous: expectation.
"Let me make one thing perfectly clear: Slytherin House does not tolerate foolishness. We do not start petty fights in corridors. We do not bring shame to our name by acting like reckless Gryffindors. You will act with restraint, with intelligence, and with pride."
My name itched on my skin like an invisible tag sewn into my collar. Rosier. My cousin Evan had nearly burned it into the floorboards. And my father, Gareth… well, I wore the shadow of a ghost who pledged to the Dark Lord. Fun.
"You may have heard things about this House—rumors spread by those who lack the strength to understand us. Let them talk. While they waste time chasing glory, we master influence. While they speak of bravery, we act with precision."
Snape's voice sharpened slightly on the word 'glory.' It didn't take a genius to guess where his contempt landed. Potter's name had already been tossed around half the train ride here.
"Remember: greatness is rarely loud."
My fingers twitched behind my back. I liked that one. I could work with that.
"You will find in me a fair Head of House—but not a lenient one. I expect discipline. I expect discretion. And I expect you to rise above the petty squabbles of the school and prove that Slytherin stands above the rest."
Snape's eyes passed over the group… then paused on me. Just for a beat.
Recognition. Not warmth. Not approval. Just... weight. My father had once stood in this House. Evan too. Felix had survived it. Now it was my turn.
I didn't flinch. I didn't blink. I gave the faintest nod. Snape moved on.
"Your dormitories are through there. The password will be given once we finish here. Do not forget it—and do not forget yourselves."
And with that, he turned. The room didn't applaud. It didn't need to. We were Slytherins now. No clapping necessary. Just silence, calculation… and the sharp scent of ambition in the air.
I exhaled slowly.
Let the game begin.