ᏕᎮᏗᏒᏦᏕ

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗀𝗅𝖾𝗌

The morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the castle, casting soft light over the stone floors. Rhea felt the weight of her nerves pressing down on her chest as she walked down the corridors of Hogwarts, clutching the letter from Professor McGonagall summoning her to the Headmistress's office. Today was the day she would finally be sorted into a House.

After spending her first night in a temporary guest room in Gryffindor Tower, Rhea had barely slept. Her thoughts had been a whirlwind of anxiety about where she would be placed and how she would keep up with the curriculum. Her magical education had been... inconsistent. She was determined to prove herself, but doubt still gnawed at the back of her mind.

The portraits lining the walls seemed to watch her closely as she approached the stone gargoyle that guarded McGonagall's office.

"Password?" the gargoyle asked in a gravelly voice.

Rhea stared for a moment, fumbling for her response. But before she could say anything, the gargoyle slid aside on its own, revealing a spiraling staircase that led upward.

"Professor McGonagall is expecting you," the gargoyle said with a slight nod.

Rhea took a deep breath and stepped onto the staircase, which carried her upward to the Headmistress's office. When the door opened, Professor McGonagall was seated at her desk, her sharp eyes watching Rhea with an air of calm authority.

"Miss Selwyn, please come in," McGonagall said, her voice steady but not unkind.

Rhea stepped into the office, her fingers clutching the straps of her bag tightly. The office was lined with shelves of magical objects, and behind McGonagall's desk stood a large window offering a sweeping view of the Hogwarts grounds.

"I trust you've settled in, despite the unusual circumstances?" McGonagall asked, her gaze softening slightly.

"Yes, Professor," Rhea replied. "I'm ready for the Sorting."

McGonagall nodded, standing up and retrieving the old, patched Sorting Hat from a nearby shelf. "I understand this is an unusual situation. But I have no doubt that the Sorting Hat will know where you belong."

She placed the hat on Rhea's head, and Rhea immediately felt a strange sensation, as if a voice was whispering inside her mind.

"Ah, another Selwyn," the Sorting Hat murmured in her ear, its voice soft and knowing. "Not an easy one, are you? You've been kept away from Hogwarts for some time. A good mind, but unsure of yourself. There's ambition here, yes... but also loyalty... and bravery."

Rhea held her breath, waiting for the decision that would determine the course of her time at Hogwarts.

"Hmm," the Hat continued, its voice thoughtful. "I see where you might flourish... You would do well in Ravenclaw... but there's a spark of something else... Slytherin, perhaps?"

Rhea's heart raced. She had always imagined herself in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, houses that seemed to align with her desire to prove herself. But Slytherin? That had never crossed her mind.

"I think... Slytherin," the Hat said, its voice final. "Yes, you belong in Slytherin."

Rhea blinked in surprise as McGonagall removed the hat. She hadn't expected to be placed in the house known for ambition, cunning, and a certain reputation that made it hard to shake the stereotypes. Slytherin. Draco Malfoy's house. The thought made her stomach twist.

"Congratulations, Miss Selwyn," McGonagall said with a small, approving nod. "Your path may not be the easiest, but you have the potential to succeed here at Hogwarts. I trust you'll do well in Slytherin."

Rhea tried to smile, but her mind was racing. She had been placed in the same house as Draco Malfoy. Her eyes darted to the door as she left McGonagall's office, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Later that day, Rhea found herself walking into the Slytherin common room for the first time. It was dimly lit, with dark green and silver decor that matched the house's colors. The fireplace crackled, casting long shadows over the room. Students lounged in plush chairs, chatting quietly or reading books, their eyes flickering toward her curiously as she entered.

Rhea quickly found an empty chair in the corner, trying to remain unnoticed. She needed time to adjust, to find her footing in this new environment. But her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Well, well, if it isn't our new fifth-year." The voice was cold and unmistakable.

Rhea looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing before her, his silver-blond hair catching the light from the fire. His grey eyes were sharp, assessing her with a mix of interest and disdain. Behind him stood his usual entourage—Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson—all of whom seemed equally intrigued by the newcomer.

"You're the girl who started late," Draco said, his tone lazy but filled with curiosity. "Rhea Selwyn, right?"

"Yes," Rhea replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "That's me."

Draco smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "Starting in fifth year... quite unusual. Must be hard to keep up, isn't it?"

"I'll manage," Rhea said, lifting her chin slightly.

"Let's hope so," Draco drawled, his eyes flicking over her as if sizing her up. "Slytherin's known for producing the best. We don't take kindly to... underachievers."

Rhea bristled at his words but held her tongue. She could feel the tension between them already. Draco was clearly testing her, waiting to see how she would respond.

"I'll do fine," Rhea said evenly, refusing to rise to the bait.

Draco raised an eyebrow, looking amused by her response. "We'll see."

As he turned and walked away with his group, Rhea let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Draco Malfoy was everything she had expected—arrogant, intimidating, and far too confident in his own superiority. But there was something else about him, something that unsettled her in ways she couldn't quite understand.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and introductions. Rhea quickly realized just how far behind she was. In Potions, Professor Snape had eyed her with clear disapproval when she fumbled a basic brew. Charms class had been equally frustrating—she could barely get her spell to produce even the faintest spark, while her classmates cast their spells with ease.

By the time the day ended, Rhea felt exhausted, her confidence shaken. She had wanted so badly to fit in, but everything seemed harder than she had expected. It felt as if the weight of her late arrival was pressing down on her, reminding her of everything she still had to learn.

As she lay in her new bed in the Slytherin dormitory that night, her thoughts drifted back to Draco Malfoy. His gaze had lingered on her longer than she was comfortable with, and she couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her now. He was dangerous in ways she couldn't fully understand, but there was no denying that he was also intriguing.

And as Rhea closed her eyes, the castle silent around her, she knew that Draco Malfoy would play a larger role in her time at Hogwarts than she had ever anticipated.