"You're definitely meant for Slytherin! I'm going there too, for sure!"
Pansy's eyes sparkled as she gazed at Marius Cloud. Their eyes met, and Marius gave her a confident, encouraging wink.
"Heh… Slytherin, is it…"
Far away, on the back of Professor Quirrell's head, Voldemort's cold sneer curled in the shadows.
He'd watched Marius's performance from start to finish—from his boldness on the train to his composure in the hall—and all of it wrapped in raw potential. Courage, confidence, and power—unthinkable qualities for an eleven-year-old boy.
"Silence! Settle down!"
Professor McGonagall clapped her hands sharply before turning to the scroll again.
"Next up, Hermione Granger!"
Hermione gave a start—she hadn't expected to be called so soon after Marius.
The Sorting was happening much faster than she thought.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped up and placed the Sorting Hat on her head.
"Hm… this should be easy…" the Sorting Hat murmured, but then paused in thought.
"On the surface, you're a textbook Ravenclaw—eager for knowledge, sharp of mind. But deep down… you're Gryffindor through and through. Brave, resilient, headstrong."
Hermione hesitated. Then, softly, she said, "I… I think I want to go to Slytherin…"
"What?" the Hat sounded genuinely puzzled.
"That's exactly the problem! Why on earth would someone like you want to be in Slytherin? You don't fit there at all."
In the end, the Sorting Hat didn't allow her request.
"I'm sorry, my dear. The Sorting is a sacred tradition, and it must serve the greater good. Therefore…
Gryffindor!"
Cheers burst from the Gryffindor table.
But as Hermione took off the hat and stepped down, she looked a little disappointed.
"Next up, Pansy Parkinson!" McGonagall called.
The Sorting Hat didn't even hesitate this time.
"Slytherin!"
No surprises there—Pansy was the very definition of a Slytherin.
Beaming, she joined the Slytherin table and gave Marius a quick, excited hug.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Hermione pursed her lips in a small pout.
Though even she didn't seem to realize she'd done it.
"Next—Ron Weasley!"
Ron shakily made his way to the stool, placed the Sorting Hat on his head—
"Ah-hah!" the Hat bellowed with glee.
"Another Weasley! I know exactly where to put you!"
"Gryffindor!"
The moment he heard it, Ron's eyes lit up with pride.
He turned toward Marius, shooting him a glare, clearly trying to provoke something.
But Marius didn't even look his way.
In fact, it was as if Ron didn't exist.
And somehow, that was worse than being insulted.
Ron's face turned pale as his mind involuntarily dredged up the memory of that day at Flourish and Blotts—how he and his father had been utterly humiliated by Marius Cloud.
McGonagall didn't pause.
"Draco Malfoy!"
Draco inhaled deeply and strutted to the stool, full of confidence.
As expected, the Sorting Hat didn't even need to think.
"Slytherin!"
Draco looked around triumphantly, as if he'd just won something important.
But then his eyes met Marius's.
The faint, knowing smirk on Marius's face instantly made Draco break into a cold sweat.
He wasn't the only one feeling uneasy.
The sharp-minded Theodore Nott was already mentally preparing himself for the coming days—what would it be like sharing a House with someone like him?
"Harry Potter!"
At McGonagall's words, the entire hall fell silent once again.
It was exactly like the atmosphere when Marius had stepped forward—tense, breathless, expectant.
Harry, still unsure of himself, walked to the front, uncomfortable in the spotlight.
He didn't feel like he deserved it.
Not after watching Marius shine.
The moment the Sorting Hat touched his head, it began muttering to itself.
"Hmmm… very difficult. Very, very difficult…"
"Difficult?" Harry whispered, confused.
"I—I don't think I'm as talented as Mr. Cloud or anything…"
This was now the second time during the ceremony the Sorting Hat had found itself uncertain.
And just like with Marius, the hesitation only added to the sense of mystery surrounding Harry.
"No, no… not like that," the Hat said.
"I see great courage… a good heart… plenty of talent… and a burning desire to prove yourself. But the question is… where should I put you?"
Harry swallowed nervously.
He caught sight of Ron at the Gryffindor table, mouthing the word "Gryffindor" over and over.
But his eyes wandered—inevitably—to the Slytherin table.
To him.
Marius Cloud.
Compared to Ron's constant badmouthing of Slytherin, Harry found himself more inclined to believe what he'd seen with his own eyes—and Marius, his very first friend in the wizarding world, had been nothing but brilliant, confident, and kind.
And now, Marius was a proud member of Slytherin.
Harry's gaze lingered for a second… only to realize Marius wasn't even looking his way.
That small discovery sent a pang of disappointment through him.
Softly, almost to himself, Harry murmured,
"…I think Slytherin might not be so bad."
"You're sure about that?" the Sorting Hat asked, surprised.
"I know who you are, Harry Potter. Your parents were both in Gryffindor… and yet here you are, the second student tonight who seems better suited for Gryffindor—yet wants to be in Slytherin. What on earth is going on today?"
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