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Chapter 8 — The Sorting Ceremony
As dusk settled, Malfoy glanced out the window and saw the mountains and forests fading beneath the deep violet sky. The train had begun to slow.
"The Hogwarts Express will arrive in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train—it will be delivered to the school," the voice echoed through the corridor.
"We're finally here." A strange mix of excitement and uncertainty stirred in Malfoy's chest. Perhaps that was the truest reflection of how he felt.
The whistle shrieked, the train lurched once, then stopped. Students pushed toward the doors, spilling out onto a small, shadowy platform. Malfoy tucked his book back into his suitcase and joined the river of bodies.
A breath of cold night air hit him the moment he stepped down. "Hiss—" He hadn't expected the temperature to drop so sharply.
"First years! First years, over here! Watch yer step!" boomed a giant of a man with a wild beard.
Half-giant, Malfoy thought as he looked at Hagrid.
The first years trailed after him, slipping occasionally as they made their way down a narrow, steep path. The darkness pressed close on both sides.
"Round this bend and ye'll get yer first look at Hogwarts!" Hagrid shouted back.
A collective "Oooh!" rose from the students as the path opened suddenly onto a vast, black lake. On the far shore stood a castle perched high upon a cliff, its spires and countless windows glowing under the star-strewn sky.
"So this is Hogwarts." Malfoy stared, momentarily speechless. Unlike the cold elegance of the Malfoy manor, Hogwarts radiated history—ancient stone and weathered walls that had watched centuries pass.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to the fleet of small wooden boats rocking at the water's edge.
"Pansy!" Malfoy spotted her in the crowd and waved. Better to ride with someone familiar than a random stranger.
Pansy looked over, huffed, and promptly boarded a different boat without so much as a backward glance.
"How did I offend her this time?" Malfoy muttered.
"I'll ask her later."
He climbed into the nearest empty boat.
"All aboard? Right then—off we go!" Hagrid shouted from his own oversized boat.
The flotilla drifted smoothly across the glass-still lake, every student silent as they stared up at the towering castle. The cliff loomed above them as they approached.
"Heads down!" Hagrid warned.
They ducked as the boats glided through a curtain of ivy and into a hidden tunnel beneath the castle. The passage grew wider until they reached an underground landing, where they climbed onto pebbled ground and disembarked.
"Thank Merlin!" Neville suddenly cried out, holding his arms wide. His toad—Trevor—had been sitting in one of the empty boats.
"I assume you found your toad," Malfoy said dryly from behind him.
"T-Thank you," Neville stammered, flushed from relief.
The group followed Hagrid up through another tunnel, emerging onto a damp, flat stretch of grass beneath the looming shadow of Hogwarts. A short climb of stone steps brought them to an enormous oak door. Hagrid knocked three times.
It swung open at once.
"Thank you, Hagrid," said a tall witch in emerald-green robes, her expression crisp and unreadable.
Professor McGonagall.
She led the first years into a small chamber. Packed with nervous students, it felt even smaller.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but first you will be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your family within these walls—your classmates, dormmates, and the peers who will share your triumphs and failures."
She explained the four houses, the points system, the House Cup, and some basic rules.
Nearby, Harry and Ron whispered anxiously. Hermione muttered charms under her breath. Malfoy, however, wasn't listening—he was scanning the room.
Where did Pansy disappear to?
"There you are." He spotted her chatting—laughing, even—with a group of girls.
Squeezing through the cluster of students took patience.
"Ladies, pardon the intrusion." Malfoy bowed slightly. "My friend and I seem to have a misunderstanding to clear up. May I borrow her for a moment?"
"Ooh, Pansy," one girl teased. "Your little boyfriend is very charming."
"I have nothing to say to him," Pansy said coldly.
"You're really mad? Then you definitely need coaxing," another girl whispered, pushing Pansy forward before slipping away with a grin.
Malfoy sighed. "At the very least, tell me what I did wrong."
Pansy puffed her cheeks. "You didn't come find me on the train. I was bored to death."
"…Ah." He hadn't expected that.
"See? You forgot about me." Her eyes narrowed. "I even walked through the other carriages looking for you!"
Oh. She had only checked the regular compartments—never the special one arranged by Lucius.
"Then blame my father," Malfoy said quickly. "He assigned my compartment. I didn't know you'd look for me."
"You still forgot about me."
"Oh—right." Malfoy snapped his fingers as if recalling something. "I was helping Neville find his toad."
Pansy blinked. "…Is the toad more important than me?"
This, Malfoy thought, was the most dangerous question he had faced all day.
Seconds passed.
Pansy suddenly burst into laughter.
"Huh?"
"You should've seen your face!" The girls nearby were giggling too.
Pansy stepped closer, voice soft. "You were calm when I threatened you before, but today you're actually nervous. That means I'm important to you. I'm very pleased. So—your reward."
She rose on her toes and kissed his forehead.
The other girls squealed. Pansy's face went bright pink.
Malfoy sighed internally. I've really provoked a little demoness.
"Quiet, please!" Professor McGonagall called sharply from the doorway.
The room fell silent—until twenty ghosts suddenly floated through the far wall.
Hermione shrieked. Several boys yelped.
Malfoy calmly observed. Incorporeal, translucent, intelligent, non-aggressive. Standard ghosts.
Then he felt a tug on his sleeve.
Pansy.
"You're not actually scared," he said. "You've been in half the haunted rooms in my manor."
She clicked her tongue. "Ugh, you're back to normal already. Boring."
McGonagall returned. The ghosts drifted away in a loose line.
"Form a single file. Follow me."
They entered the Great Hall.
Thousands of floating candles lit the ceiling—enchanted to mirror the night sky. Four gleaming house tables stretched beneath it. At the staff table sat the professors.
Malfoy lifted his gaze. This spell… it must be fixed within a specific boundary. How is the range stabilized?
A stool was placed before them. On it sat a battered, patched wizard's hat.
Silence fell.
Then the Sorting Hat split open at the brim and began to sing.
( We keep the song verbatim—it's canon, so we do not rewrite it. )
When the hat finished, the hall burst into applause.
McGonagall called the names one by one. Students nervously sat, the Hat announced a house, and applause followed.
Hermione and Neville both ended up in Gryffindor.
Then—
"Draco Malfoy."
Malfoy stepped forward, thoughts swirling. A different soul… will the result change?
He placed the hat on his head.
Silence.
A voice echoed in his mind.
"Ah… Ravenclaw. Certainly Ravenclaw. Your thirst for knowledge is extraordinary—enough that you could probably graduate already. Ravenclaw would suit you beautifully…"
Then the Hat paused.
"…Oh my. What a deeply buried ambition."
"Knowledge is a tool to you—not the goal. Such focus. Such drive. How did I almost miss this?"
A final beat.
"Slytherin!"
Malfoy smirked. So fate doesn't change after all.
He walked to the Slytherin table and sat beside Pansy.
Hermione watched him, conflicted.
Ron's earlier warnings echoed in her mind—but Malfoy's words on the train lingered too.
Pansy whispered, "Honestly, I thought you'd end up in Ravenclaw."
"My parents would've flayed me alive," Malfoy said dramatically.
Pansy laughed at the thought.
A roar went up from the Gryffindor table.
"We've got Potter!" the Weasley twins shouted.
"Charming, isn't he," Malfoy muttered.
"Overrated," Pansy huffed, clearly annoyed the famous "hero" wasn't in Slytherin.
The last student—Blaise Zabini—joined Slytherin, and McGonagall carried the Hat away.
Then the headmaster stood.
Malfoy looked up sharply.
A long crooked nose, half-moon glasses, sharp blue eyes, waist-length silver hair, and a beard to match.
Albus Dumbledore.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Before the feast, a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
He sat. The students cheered.
Food appeared. British cuisine assaulted Malfoy's sensibilities immediately.
"Peppermint humbugs? During dinner?" He stared in disbelief.
After the feast, the school song followed—each student singing in a tune of their choosing. The Weasley twins chose a funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last bars with genuine delight.
"Slytherin first years, with me," the prefect ordered.
They descended several staircases into the cool depths of the dungeons. An empty stretch of wet stone wall suddenly sprouted a carved serpent.
"Password?"
"Pureblood."
The wall slid open.
The Slytherin common room stretched low and long beneath the lake, lit by eerie green lamps. Malfoy glanced at the fireplace and compared it to the one at home.
Hogwarts clearly isn't funded like the Malfoy estate, he joked inwardly.
He unpacked, changed, and collapsed into bed. The day had been long—but satisfying.
At last… the school life I've been waiting for begins.
Sleep took him instantly.
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