The air crackled with a tension Ginny Weasley hadn't anticipated. As the Sorting Hat, frayed and ancient, settled upon her head, a hush fell over the Great Hall so profound she could have sworn she heard a spider scurry across the flagstone floor.
Moments before, the Gryffindor table had practically vibrated with anticipation. Her twin brothers, Fred and George, had their faces contorted in identical expressions of mischievous glee, their eyes sparkling with the promise of future pranks they'd weave together at Hogwarts. Percy, ever the prefect, held a tight smile, his crimson robes seeming to puff up with pride. And Ron, the great prat, was nowhere to be seen.
But as the Hat declared in a raspy voice, "Slytherin!" the exuberant energy in the hall was replaced by a suffocating silence. Ginny felt a cold sweat prickle her skin. The Gryffindor table, once a beacon of warmth, now seemed miles away, a tapestry of frozen smiles and wide, surprised eyes.
The tear that escaped Ginny's eye wasn't from fear, but from a crushing weight of disappointment. She was a Weasley, a Gryffindor through and through – or so everyone had thought.
The Hat, sensing her distress, muttered in a softer tone, "An interesting mind, Miss Weasley. A hunger for ambition, yes, and a cunning that could be honed to a fine point. But there's a fierce loyalty within you too, a protectiveness that yearns for a cause greater than yourself. Slytherin can offer you the tools to achieve greatness, to become a force to be reckoned with."
Ginny, however, remained rooted to the stool, the weight of the Sorting Hat and the crushing silence threatening to pull her under. This wasn't supposed to happen. Weasleys belonged in Gryffindor, as brave and as loyal as the lion itself.
Professor McGonagall, her lips a thin line, carefully placed the hat back on its stool. A smattering of nervous coughs broke the suffocating silence. A second year Slytherin, probably unsure of protocol, offered her a tentative smile. Ginny forced a brittle one back, her insides churning. Had she heard correctly? Or had the Hat, malfunctioning under the weight of her family legacy, simply uttered the wrong house? Stealing a glance at the Gryffindor table, she saw her family frozen in shock. Fred and George, wore expressions of stunned silence. Even Percy, his prefect badge gleaming smugly on his chest, looked as though someone had stolen his perfectly ironed robes.
She glanced towards the Slytherin table and found them whispering heatedly and sneering in her direction. She slowly moved towards the table fighting the urge to cry and whine to her brothers about the unfairness of it all - no matter how childish she looks. She told herself repeatedly that this was just a bad dream, a nightmare. But the reality soon crashing down and she willed herself not to weep and become an even bigger spectacle on her first day at Hogwarts.
She glanced towards the Slytherin table and found them whispering heatedly and sneering in her direction. She slowly moved towards the table fighting the urge to cry and whine to her brothers about the unfairness of it all - no matter how childish she looks. She told herself repeatedly that this was just a bad dream, a nightmare. But the reality soon crashing down and she willed herself not to weep and become an even bigger spectacle on her first day at Hogwarts.
This confidence fizzles out as soon as it began when she chances another glance at her brothers. She does not let her hands tremble. Visibly.
She, somehow, manages to sit throughout the meal and forces a few morsels down her throat, despite the insults and sneers flung her way, "filthy blood-traitor" being the most commom one. It seemed as if the whole house holds down her family amd their values on her. Her breath constricts, and sweat begins to run down the side of her face.
"Are we really going to allow her to sit here", shrieks the pug-faced girl sitting beside Draco Malfoy. Ha. As if I want to be here, bitch. She mentally throws a hasty apology to her mother for cussing but rationalises it thinking that she had it coming. Granted, she did not say that out loud, but then again, she cannot afford to ostracise herself more than she already is.
"Filthy blood-traitor should have been dumped in Gryffindor, that is where filth like this belongs", Draco said smirking in her direction, probably trying to get a rise out of her.
Ofcourse he wants to make my stay at Hogwarts hell and will stop at nothing to achieve that. I can probably ask Tom if he knows any spell to protect myself from the young Malfoy, afterall, I would prefer to stay alive with all my limbs intact.
She took a deep breath and focused all her energy on keeping a calm and cool composure. She did not want the Slytherins to sense any weakness from her because somewhere she knew this house will latch on to that and eat her alive. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just breathe.
"First years", said a gruff voice from further down the table, looking down on the younger students like they are an annoying fly he'd rather swat away.
Ginny got up with the rest of Slytherin first-years to follow the prefect to the Slytherin common room. She started walking behind the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who sat beside her at dinner.
As they walked towards the commons, Ginny noticed the temperature decreasing, the warmth from the Great Hall felt like a far-away dream. So, the Slytherins were devoid of warmth, both in their nature and in their living spaces.
With every step towards the slytherin living quarters, the distance from her family seemed to stretch out infinitely, making the walk to the dungeons feel interminable.
The Slytherin common room, she discovered moments later, was a far cry from the Gryffindor tower's warm, inviting atmosphere. Descending a hidden passageway behind a bare stone wall, Ginny entered a dimly lit chamber that felt more like a dungeon than a living space. The only light came from a series of hanging lamps that cast an eerie green glow across the room. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting not scenes of triumph, but of cunning sorcerers and mythical serpents with gleaming, intelligent eyes.
An enormous, intricately carved mantelpiece dominated one wall, adorned with silver candelabras and polished cauldrons. Deep armchairs and sofas, upholstered in a rich, emerald green velvet, were arranged in conversation nooks around the room. But the most striking feature was the absence of warmth. The room, despite its grand furnishings, felt cold and impersonal, the air heavy with a strange tension.
"The girls' rooms are to your left and boys' are on the right. Your impudence better not jeopardize our chances of winning the house cup. Farewell." The mousy prefect spat the last bit, looking at her disgustingly. Ginny thought he looked rather funny. Angry was not a good look on him.
The blonde girl then cleared her throat and looked at Ginny impatiently. Ginny's gaze settled on her stunning blue orbs before she turned on her heels and started moving up the stairs towards their rooms. Wait rooms! As in plural? Does everyone get their own room here? She knew for a fact that Gryffindors lived in dormitories sharing them with their fellow year-mates (of the same gender ofcourse). But Slytheirns are mostly packed with snobs, maybe they do get a room of their own. It won't make up for not being in Gryffindor but it is a good enough compromise if she were to stay here for the next seven years.
She sprinted up the stairs to check for herself, not because she was getting suffocated down there with the other pureblood supremacist staring at her like a prey. No, it was just excitement to explore the new world she was thurst into.
A pair of brown eyes followed her every little body movement, every little nuance of her facial expression- the fear and the uncertainty tinged with the underlining excitement to start a new journey as she subtly looked towards her housemates, well as subtle as a gryffindor can be, for he was sure she may possess the Slytherin traits somewhere deep inside but, as of present, she is overshadowed by the presence of boisterous Gryffindors her whole life. It is going to be a long journey for the young Slytherin smeared in Gryffindor colors.