The Sorting Hat

Looking out at the Great Hall, Ron was struck by the immensity of it. Ghosts flitted between and through the tables, while a ceiling, bewitched to look like the night sky could be seen above. There were wizards as far as the eye could see, from second-years who were barely older than he was, to Dumbledore with his meter-long beard.

Ron recognized most of the staff from movies. Next to Dumbledore there was the ever-glum Snape, next to the tiny Flitwick and the plump Sprout. Ron shivered a bit as he saw the turban-wearing Professor Quirrell, knowing exactly what was underneath that. He'd have to be careful around him.

Then, the sorting started.

"Abbott, Hannah!" McGonagall called.

"Hufflepuff!"

"Bones, Susan…"

The sorting went on for a while before a name he was interested in came up.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Ron wondered if his contact with Hermione would change anything. Would she wind up in Ravenclaw? Or Hufflepuff? Or even Slytherin?

"Gryffindor!"

It seemed that nothing changed. Neville came up after a while, and similarly wound back in Gryffindor. In fact, Ron felt that he'd been sorted much faster.

Then, Harry came up. This time, the hat took its time. Still, eventually a decision came.

"GRYFFINDOR!!!"

The Gryffindor table exploded with cheering, and even Ron gave a slow clap. After Harry, names seemed to fly by. Dean Thomas became a Gryffindor. Then, Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw.

Finally…

"Weasley, Ronald!" McGonagall called out.

Ron walked forward, heart in his hand, and put on the hat.

"Another Weasley?" The hat asked, its gruff voice reaching into his mind. "Interesting… I've sorted 700 Weasleys in my time, of which 699 went into Gryffindor. But you… you've got cunning in you, ambition, resourcefulness. A little mould on a cauldron here, a chess hustle there… perfect for… SLYTHERIN!"

Ron was floored. He hadn't even had time to speak before the hat had made its ruling. But compared to his surprise, the surprise of the others in the hall was far greater.

"That's rubbish!" Draco was the first to speak.

The twins agreed, hopping out of their seats. Percy seemed utterly astonished, not making a sound. Even the Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin House were taken aback. McGonagall had seen four generations of Weasleys, teaching two of them, and they all wound up in Gryffindor.

Ron took off the hat with quivering hands, walking slowly to the Slytherin table. There was no clapping or cheers.

When McGonagall finally regained herself, she called the last name, Blaise Zabini. He too was sorted into Slytherin, and his arrival sparked a booming cheer. By seating arrangement, Blaise was placed next to him, but they didn't speak. Ron out of shock, and Blaise out of disdain.

It wasn't until halfway through the feast that Ron recovered.

'This… this can't be as bad as I think it is.' Ron reassured himself.

Slytherin wasn't a bad House per se. In fact, the hat was right to say it was the best House for his ambitions. If you took ten of the wealthiest wizards in England, nine of them would be Slytherins. The House bred the kind of connections and attitude that lent itself well to business, politics and many other lucrative careers.

That said, his eye drifted over to the Gryffindor table. If the twins' nasty glares and Percy's complete apathy were any indication, his family wouldn't take this too well. It seemed he was on his own.

'Well, I was an orphan once, I can do it again.' Ron thought.

Then, he turned to his new housemates in rapt discussion of politics.

"Have you heard that Barty Crouch has been demoted? I hear Fudge booted him down to the Department of Magical Cooperation first chance he got." A Slytherin fourth year brought up.

"Any hopes he's got for the Minister's position ought to be dead now."

"It's a shame really, he used to be a Slytherin too."

"He deserves worse, going after my father all those years and protecting those filthy mudbloods." Draco sneered. "I reckon he'll be demoted further soon."

"I'd watch your mouth Malfoy, he's still ten times the wizard you'll ever be." Ron stepped into the conversation.

The other Slytherins turned to look at Ron in surprise. They clearly hadn't been expecting him to speak up.

"And the gold I've got in my pocket is ten, no a hundred times more than you'll ever see." Malfoy snapped angrily.

"Oh really? Did daddy give you some extra pocket money? That's real impressive." Ron mocked sarcastically. "I reckon you couldn't make a knut on your own, even if you sold yourself as an elf."

Malfoy's face went a foul shade of pink. He spluttered and stuttered, and while he did, Ron stepped in to make conversation with the upper years. He'd been keeping up with wizarding politics and was intelligent enough to hold conversation with them, much to their surprise.

Ron quickly singled out the people he might be able to make friends with. Half-bloods and people from less racist pureblood families were at the top of the list. But he'd have to deal with Malfoy first.

Finishing the feast, Ron followed with the other first years behind fifth-year prefects Gemma Farley and Caspar Carrow. There were 24 first-years in Slytherin, twelve boys and twelve girls. He could already see the embryonic formation of gangs.

Pansy Parkinson was flanked by four big ugly Slytherin girls, while Draco had Crabbe and Goyle, and was chatting with a third boy, Theodore Nott.

Ron was still standing next to Blaise Zabini, who were both shunted aside. Blaise because he was half-blood and his mother 'had a reputation' while Ron was a Blood-traitor and a Weasley to boot. Still, Blaise seemed to fancy himself above Ron. That would change.

Arriving at the Dungeons, Gemma turned to the Slytherins.

"The password for the Common Room is 'Serpentine'. It changes every fortnight and will be posted on the register one night in advance. If anyone outside of Slytherin learns of it, I'll know, and the violator won't be told the new password again. Ever."

The first years nodded fearfully.

Descending into the Common Room, Ron felt it resembled the lobby of an elite country club. With shelves filled with obscure books and old paintings on the walls, the room was lit by shimmering green light filtered from the Black Lake above.

Gemma began introducing the various items inside, donated by various Slytherin alumni. Apparently, Slytherin had its own pantry, wine cellar, library and even three dedicated house elves, all donated throughout the years. Of course, they were much smaller than the Hogwarts facilities, but it was still impressive.

Walking through a door that was labelled 'first years', they entered into a second lobby, where their luggage laid roughly on the ground.

"What's the meaning of this, then?" Draco asked, seeing his trunk had been dented.

Gemma smiled wickedly.

"Well, Slytherin has a little tradition you see." Gemma started. "All the houses do dormitories differently. Hufflepuffs sleep in one big room like pigs, separated only by year and gender. Gryffindors are pack animals sleeping in medium-sized rooms of four or five. Then in Ravenclaws 'birds of a feather flock two together'."

Ron listened attentively.

"What's this got to do with our things then?" Pansy questioned.

"The way Slytherin does it is different. There are seven rooms in this hall, all of them the same size. Two of them are private rooms, three are doubles, and the last two are for everybody else." Gemma explained. "Slytherin values hierarchies above all else. Know your place and stay in it. If you want to rise, you ought to have the ability."

This revelation had a mixed effect on the first years. The more confident ones like Draco and Pansy were excited, while the others were more irritated. Whether it was for privacy or comfort, Ron knew he needed a private room.

"How're the rooms decided?"

If it was something random, like a lottery, he was screwed.

"Simple. If you think you deserve a private room, stand out. If there are more than two, you duel." Gemma said matter-of-factly.

'Duelling?' Ron grinned.

Compared to the other first years who'd probably never cast a spell in their lives, he'd been grinding for the past two weeks.

No more than a moment after Gemma announcement, two people stood out. They were Draco and Pansy. The moment they stepped out, most of the others gave up. The Malfoy and Parkinson families were rich and influential beyond compare. Competing with them wasn't worth it.

But just as Gemma opened her mouth to announce them as winners, Ron stepped out.

"Weasley, what are you doing here? This isn't the line for the second-hand shop."

"Put your wand where your mouth is or bugger off Malfoy." Ron said simply, drawing his wand.

Draco grimaced. As a first year, he didn't know much in the way of spells.

"Can we have help?" He asked, looking to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Not in first year." Gemma explained, seemingly amused by the turn of events.

Ron grinned.

"Don't look so smug Weasley!" Draco spat, drawing his wand. "Even if I'm not a master duellist yet, I'm good enough to-"

"Locomotor Mortis!" Ron struck out with a Leg-Locker curse the moment Draco's wand was out.

Draco's eyes barely had time to widen before the curse hit him, his legs snapping together as he fell onto his back.

"Oi! That's cheating! Draco wasn't ready!" Pansy shrieked.

Gemma didn't seem to hear her. Ron continued on the offensive. First, he sent out a "Mucus ad Nauseum", causing Draco to sneeze up a storm of mucus. Then, he lifted a nearby trunk with "Wingardium Leviosa", looking to drop it on his opponent's crotch when…

"Alright, that's enough." Gemma stepped in. "Weasley gets the room."

All the first years were stunned, with Zabini staring in amazement. Still, the selection continued. Pansy got the other private room as Draco was in no condition to duel her for it. Draco and Nott picked up double rooms, as did Crabbe and Goyle and a pair of Slytherin girls, Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis.

Moving in his stuff, Ron was amazed at the size of his room, thrice the size of his room from the Burrow. Not to mention he had an immense skylight, straight into the Black Lake, giving him a jaw-dropping view to fall asleep to.

Ron grinned, wanting to soak it in. But Gemma quickly called them back for a final advisory.

"Alright, now don't be cocky. The rooms are shuffled up every year, and starting next year, you can bring a few friends to duel with you. An early start means nothing if you can't keep it." She said, looking to Ron. "With that said, have a good night. Classes begin tomorrow."

Then, she departed. Ron smiled as he returned to his massive room. Maybe Slytherin wouldn't be so bad.