Harry Potter and the Daughter of Black

Slytherin's Embrace

As the students gathered in the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall's presence commanded immediate attention. Her sharp gaze and no-nonsense posture left no room for doubt—she was someone not to be trifled with. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she announced, her voice firm and steady. "In a few moments, you'll join your classmates, but first, you'll each be sorted into one of the four houses."

Her words lingered in the air as Druella glanced around at the other students. She knew, from Draco's endless complaints, that Gryffindors were supposed to be her rivals, but it wasn't that simple. She had met Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and despite her initial reservations, they had started to get along—or at least, she was beginning to understand them. But that didn't mean she was ready to drop her guard entirely. Gryffindors had their own rules, and loyalty to family would always come first.

McGonagall continued, "Your house will be like your family." That statement struck a discordant note with Druella. She already had a family—one that expected nothing less than complete loyalty. The idea of a new "family" didn't sit right with her. "At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the House Cup," McGonagall added, "but breaking rules will lose you points."

Druella could feel the professor's eyes on her now, and it sent an unsettling shiver down her spine. It was as if McGonagall could read her thoughts, or at least the wariness that lay behind them. Her gaze was sharp, colder than anything Druella had encountered before, and it reminded her too much of her mother's calculating looks—only more distant, more clinical. Druella couldn't quite tell whether McGonagall's earlier kindness had been genuine or part of some larger strategy to keep her in check. Either way, Druella knew she'd have to be careful with her.

As McGonagall stepped inside to begin the Sorting Ceremony, Druella found herself near Ginny Weasley, who wasted no time sizing her up with that characteristic Gryffindor confidence. "So, what do you think of Harry?" Ginny asked, her tone edged with something almost challenging.

Druella kept her expression neutral, not wanting to reveal too much. "He seems... interesting." It was the truth—she'd started to get to know him, and despite everything, she admired his bravery. But Ginny's smugness made Druella wary. She knew that someone like Ginny would never truly understand the weight of family expectations on her.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, clearly testing Druella's response. She lingered, as if waiting for Druella to say something more, but Druella kept her gaze steady and unfazed. "Well," Ginny muttered dismissively, "we'll see how long that lasts." The words hung in the air, dripping with an almost predestined judgment. It was clear Ginny had already decided where Druella stood in her mind. Gryffindors—they were bold, but some had egos bigger than even Draco's.

Despite Ginny's dismissive attitude, Druella couldn't deny that befriending Harry, Hermione, and Ron felt different from what she had expected. She knew they were curious about her, and, despite herself, Hermione's quiet kindness and Ron's straightforward honesty had made it difficult to keep her distance. Gryffindors might be rivals, but maybe, for once, the rules would be proven wrong.

Ginny, however, wasn't so willing to let go of her hostility. She eyed Druella as though she wanted to hex her right then and there, her stance unyielding. Druella, keeping her composure, offered a polite smile. "Well, I'm sure I could prove you wrong—if you give me a chance."

Ginny's face hardened, her voice sharp as she retorted, "I'm not your friend. I don't like you, and I didn't need your help at Diagon Alley. I don't care about your so-called friendship." Her words were cutting, as though she'd been rehearsing them for weeks. She finished with a venomous scowl. "And don't expect me to help you or save you. I bite."

Druella held Ginny's gaze, not flinching under the intensity of her words. She had learned long ago that people like Ginny were best handled with caution—and perhaps a bit of distance. But, beneath the surface, there was a flicker of determination. She wouldn't let anyone decide her worth for her—not even a Gryffindor.