Draco Malfoy
The entire train ride to Hogwarts had been teeming with the excitement of the other first years in his compartment. Word had spread that Harry Potter was on the train, and he was a first year also. Of course Draco had already heard of this from Father, but the confirmation was exciting nonetheless.
Draco had strict rules to befriend the boy by any means. The only way Draco knew how to make friends was through what he had seen at home; bribery and grandeur. When the youngest Malfoy was rejected for the first time, and quite possibly the only time in his life, it stung.
As the first years were shepherded into the Great Hall, the sorting began. Draco would never admit it aloud, but he was nervous. What if he didn't make it into Slytherin? His family would disown him for sure. He would be an outcast among all he grew up knowing. As the names were called out, Draco kept thinking "Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin". That became his mantra as he waited for his name to be called.
"Malfoy, Draco," McGonagall said. As Draco made his way through the crowd of first years, he kept his smirk in place, while mentally going over his mantra. He thought so loudly, and so boldly, that the Sorting Hat never even contemplated where he was meant to be.
"SLYTHERIN!" it bellowed, and Draco walked to the green and silver clad students sat, never looking back.