Based on this prompt: All members of the Lannister family have always been sorted in Slytherin. Except Jaime, who was sorted in Gryffindor.

Bonus points for bb!Cersei saying it wouldn't change anything between them but slowly drifting away from him.

MEGA bonus points for Jamie's first night in Gryffindor Tower and making new friends. (Would love some Brienne here, but up to you! :D)

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat yelled and Jaime wondered what in the seven hells was wrong with it. Jaime was a Lannister, and Lannister was a synonymous with Slytherin. He didn't belong in with the Gryffindorks, he belonged in Slytherin with Cersei!

"Get up, boy," he heard Professor Selmy say kindly. Distantly, Jaime remembered someone saying that he was the head of house. "Go to your house. You're holding up the line."

Jaime rose and walked to Gryffindor in a daze. Everyone in the hall had looked shocked upon his Sorting, but they slowly started clapping when a boy in Gryffindor a couple of years older than Jaime did. Jaime made his way over to him.

The boy looked to be a third or fourth year, and was tall with brown hair and gray eyes. Sitting to one side of him was another boy with black hair and blue eyes, and on the other side was an olive-skinned fourth year that Jaime recognized as Oberyn Martell. His mother and Joanna Lannister had been friends, but Jaime had only met the Martells once a couple of years ago at his mother's funeral. His father had done something to piss off Ms. Martell, and Jaime hadn't seen them since.

Oberyn moved over to let Jaime sit in between him and the brown-haired boy who had begun clapping. "Your dad's not going to be happy," Oberyn observed as Jaime sat down and Jaime felt like he was going to faint.

His dad was going to be furious. Cersei had seemed to move from a state of pure shock to a state of pure fury, and he knew that she would inform his father of what had happened tonight. By tomorrow, his father would be requesting Headmaster Arryn to take his son out of Gryffindor and put him into Slytherin.

Jaime felt sick.

"You don't need to scare him, Oberyn," the brown-haired boy said sternly and then turned to Jaime and held out his hand. "I'm Ned. Ned Stark. I'm a third year. Are you okay? You look really pale."

Jaime shook Ned's hand dumbly. "I'm Jaime. Jaime Lannister."

"We know," Oberyn said next to him, his mouth full of food. "Why do you think the hall was dead silent before Ned started clapping?"

"Oberyn!"

"Fine! Sorry, what I meant to say was 'It's wonderful to meet you, funny-looking blond boy! Every year the hall decides simultaneously to be weird and creepy and stare at one boy without saying anything. This year we choose you!' Is that you want me to say, Ned?"

Ned glared at Oberyn for a minute before turning back to Jaime. "Ignore him. Again, are you okay? You don't look that great."

"I'm sure he's fine," said the boy on the other side of Ned. "Don't be such a mother hen."

Ned rolled his eyes. "That's Robert Baratheon. Same year as me. And next to you is Oberyn Martell. But seriously, are you okay? You look like you're about to-"

Jaime fainted.