"Hey, I'm Alice Norton."
Alice gave a polite nod to Hermione and Neville, then hustled them out of the compartment.
She could already hear Draco yelling his head off inside.
Draco Malfoy struck her like a spoiled rich kid.
Truth is, if he'd just leave her alone, she wouldn't bother clapping back.
Plus, Alice didn't peg Draco as the type to pick fights with everyone. That's not how you raise a proper heir to a big family.
He was just proud—liked flashing his name and his money. No big deal.
Their beef was simple: first time they met, he was showing off and she shut him down.
After that, the train ride flew by.
Maybe it was the way she decked him earlier—Hermione Granger, who Alice figured would be super stuck-up, actually started yapping with her nonstop.
From Hermione, Alice learned the shy-looking kid she'd met was a legit celebrity in the wizarding world: "The Boy Who Lived."
Savior of the world.
Alice scrunched her nose. That's a heavy label for an eleven-year-old.
But hey, maybe wizards have their reasons.
They got off the train and followed a giant of a man named Hagrid through the woods, across a river, until the massive Hogwarts castle finally loomed overhead.
Professor McGonagall took over, leading the first-years into a tiny side room.
She even cracked a tiny smile at Alice.
Packed shoulder-to-shoulder, the newbies listened to McGonagall explain that Hogwarts sorts students with a talking hat called the Sorting Hat.
Alice had to hand it to the wizarding world—conscious clothing? That's next level.
Is there a soul in that thing?
Alice was barely holding back the Myriad Soul Banner's hunger for souls. She could feel it—if it didn't get fed soon, it'd rot even faster.
Thanks to the Banner, everything looked like a soul to her now.
Hermione, standing right next to her, caught a glimpse of Alice's eyes out of the corner of hers and shivered. Alice looked like she wanted to eat her.
But a second later, Alice was back to normal. Hermione chalked it up to imagination.
After McGonagall gave them a minute to straighten their robes, she marched the first-years into the Great Hall.
Floating in with them? Twenty-something pearly-white, see-through ghosts.
The tattoo on Alice's wrist burned. She knew these ghosts weren't exactly souls, but they were close enough.
Still, they'd been haunting Hogwarts forever. If she sucked them into the Banner, Dumbledore would probably want a chat.
The second they stepped in, most first-years gasped—the hall was straight out of a fairy tale.
Alice glanced around. Draco had a faint smirk, like the kids were overreacting.
But when he locked eyes with Alice, the smirk froze, then vanished.
McGonagall set a stool in front of the newbies and plopped a beat-up pointed hat on it.
The hat suddenly burst into song, startling Alice. Once it finished, the sorting began.
McGonagall started calling names. One by one, nervous kids sat, put on the hat, and got sorted.
"Hannah Abbott!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Terry Boot!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Millicent Bulstrode!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Hermione Granger!"
"GRYFFINDOR!"
…
Alice watched, fascinated. What's the hat even looking for?
It's gotta be more than random, right?
As more kids went up, the remaining first-years looked increasingly terrified.
Some were literally shaking. Scared they wouldn't get their dream house? But why freak out so bad? It's just a dorm.
Finally!
"Alice Norton!"
Alice heard her name and locked eyes with Dumbledore up at the staff table.
The old guy with the white beard looked warm and kind. Alice smiled; he beamed back.
She sat on the stool under everyone's stare and slipped on the hat.
A quiet voice popped into her head.
What a principled, justice-driven young lady.
Alice smirked. First words out of the hat's mouth were compliments? Nice.
Ooh, such talent—and you've trained in swordsmanship at home?
Alice cringed a little. Her grandpa had come all the way from an ancient Eastern country. Before he passed, he'd taught her sword fighting.
Now the hat was daydreaming in her head.
A sword in one hand, a wand in the other—what a gorgeous image! Reminds me of the glory days!
You'd fit perfectly in Gryff—wait, no, hold up!
The hat went silent.
Alice thought, What's wrong?
Such grand ambition. Your goal goes beyond bravery—no, that's not quite right.
Bravery, wisdom, loyalty—they're all just pillars supporting your true dream.
I've got it, child. Your house is—
The hat bellowed:
"SLYTHERIN!"
In a flash, everyone who'd met Alice—McGonagall, Harry Potter, Hermione, Neville, Draco—snapped their heads toward her.
Harry, Hermione, and Neville exchanged looks, bummed. Why'd the classy (and kinda violent) girl end up in Slytherin?
Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would've been way better!
They all had their biases.
Draco's face went dark. He opened his mouth to trash-talk, but his still-aching nose reminded him to zip it.
Alice took off the hat and heard its final whisper:
A Slytherin with a longsword in one hand and a wand in the other? Now that's a picture!
Slytherin's welcome was… lukewarm. They knew she was Muggle-born.
Alice didn't care. She walked straight to Draco, motioned for him to move, thanked him, and slid into his seat.
Right next to her? A terrifying, skeletal ghost with blank eyes and silver bloodstains on his robes.
That's why she'd swapped with Draco.
"Hey," Alice said. "I'm Alice Norton."
The Bloody Baron just stared—watched Draco leave, watched Alice sit, watched her greet him. Finally: "You're not scared of me?"
The weird moment caught Dumbledore's eye from the staff table. Snape, who'd been watching Dumbledore like a hawk, glanced over too.
From across the hall, Snape froze when he saw Alice's eyes.
Green eyes.
Same stunning face. Same overflowing confidence. Same green eyes.
Only this time… not Gryffindor.
Slytherin.