Slytherin
The platform was alive with noise and movement. Steam billowed from the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, curling into the air and mixing with the excited chatter of children and parents. Fleur—no, Artemis Green—stood on the edge of the platform, clutching the handle of her trunk tightly. Her eleven-year-old body felt small and fragile amidst the bustling crowd, but she kept her chin up, determined not to let it show.
She had never seen anything like this before. The train was magnificent, its polished exterior gleaming in the sunlight. Fleur had always been accustomed to elegance and sophistication in her first life, but there was something uniquely charming about this old-fashioned way of starting a school term. It was quaint yet magical in its own way.
Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on her trunk and began dragging it toward the train. The wheels clattered noisily against the uneven platform, and she winced as it bumped over every crack and crevice. Her small frame lacked the strength to lift it properly, and after a few moments of struggling, she let out an exasperated sigh.
“Need a hand there, young lady?” a warm voice called out.
Fleur turned to see a kind-looking man in wizarding robes approaching her. He had a neatly trimmed beard and twinkling eyes that reminded her faintly of Dumbledore’s description in stories she’d heard as a child. He bent down slightly to meet her gaze, his expression friendly.
“Yes, please,” Fleur said gratefully, stepping aside as he reached for her trunk.
With ease that made her feel both relieved and slightly embarrassed, the man hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder and carried it toward the train. Fleur followed behind him, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she tried to keep up.
“There we go,” the man said cheerfully as he set the trunk down near one of the train’s doors. “All ready for your big adventure.”
“Thank you,” Fleur said politely. She wasn’t used to needing help like this—it grated on her pride—but she knew better than to let it show. “I appreciate it.”
The man smiled at her, tipping an imaginary hat like a gentleman from an old movie. “It’s a gentleman’s duty to help a lady in need,” he said with a playful wink.
Fleur couldn’t help but smile back, amused by his old-fashioned manners. “Well, thank you again… sir.”
“You’re most welcome,” he replied with a slight bow before straightening up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my nephew before he disappears into that crowd.” He gestured toward the throng of students boarding the train.
Fleur nodded and watched as he disappeared into the sea of people. She turned back toward her trunk, steeling herself for what came next. With some effort—and no small amount of determination—she managed to maneuver it onto the train and down the narrow corridor.
Most of the compartments were already full or nearly so, with students laughing and chatting excitedly as they settled in for the journey ahead. Fleur passed by them quietly, searching for an empty compartment where she could sit alone.
Finally, near the back of the train, she found one that was unoccupied. She slid open the door with some difficulty and dragged her trunk inside before collapsing onto one of the seats with a sigh of relief. The compartment was quiet except for the distant hum of voices from outside. Fleur leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself relax.
The train gave a sudden lurch as it began to move, and Fleur opened her eyes to watch through the window as the platform slowly receded into the distance. Parents waved goodbye to their children, some shouting last-minute reminders or words of encouragement. Fleur felt a pang in her chest—she had no one waving goodbye to her—but she quickly pushed it aside. This was a new start for her, one she intended to embrace fully.
The compartment remained blissfully empty for some time as Fleur stared out at the rolling countryside passing by outside. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there when there was a soft knock at the door.
Fleur turned to see a girl standing hesitantly in the doorway. She looked about Fleur’s age, with curly blonde hair that framed her round face and wide blue eyes that darted nervously around the compartment.
“Um… hi,” the girl said softly. “Is it okay if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.”
Fleur considered her for a moment before nodding. “Of course.”
The girl smiled shyly and stepped inside, dragging a small suitcase behind her. She struggled briefly to lift it onto the luggage rack before giving up and settling it on the floor instead. Then she sat down across from Fleur, smoothing out her skirt awkwardly.
“I’m Pandora,” she said after a moment, glancing up at Fleur nervously. “Pandora Hart.”
“Artemis Green,” Fleur replied smoothly. She had grown used to introducing herself by this name over the past four years—it rolled off her tongue now without hesitation.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Pandora said with another shy smile.
“You too,” Fleur replied politely.
For a while, neither of them spoke again. Pandora fidgeted with her hands while Fleur returned her gaze to the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable exactly—it felt more like two strangers simply adjusting to each other’s presence.
“So…” Pandora ventured after some time had passed. “Are you… excited? About Hogwarts?”
“Yes,” Fleur said honestly. “It’s all very new to me.”
“Me too,” Pandora admitted with a nervous laugh. “I mean… I’ve read about magic in books and everything—but actually going to school for it? It feels… surreal.”
Fleur nodded thoughtfully but didn’t elaborate further. She could tell Pandora was nervous—perhaps even intimidated—and didn’t want to overwhelm her with too many questions or comments.
“What house do you think you’ll be in?” Pandora asked after another pause.
“I don’t know much about them yet,” Fleur lied smoothly. “What about you?”
“Oh… I don’t know either,” Pandora said quickly before adding with a sheepish grin: “But my mum says I might be good for Ravenclaw because I like reading so much.”
Fleur smiled faintly at that but didn’t respond immediately—her thoughts drifting briefly back toward Beauxbatons before snapping back into focus on Pandora’s eager face across from hers…
The Great Hall was a sight to behold. Fleur—no, Artemis—stood near the back of the group of first-years, her eyes wide as she took in the grandeur of the room. The enchanted ceiling above them reflected the night sky, stars twinkling faintly amidst wisps of cloud. Hundreds of candles floated in midair, casting a warm glow over the long tables where older students sat, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.
Fleur’s gaze swept over the four tables, each lined with students dressed in black robes trimmed with their respective house colors. She could see flashes of red and gold at one table, blue and bronze at another, yellow and black at a third, and finally green and silver at the farthest table. Slytherin. Her heart gave an odd little flutter as her eyes lingered on the green and silver banners hanging above that table. She had no idea where she would be sorted, but something about Slytherin called to her.
Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the hall beside a three-legged stool, upon which rested a battered old hat. The Sorting Hat. Fleur had read about it in her Hogwarts letter—it was said to be enchanted with magic that could see into a person’s very soul. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Quiet down, please,” McGonagall said sharply, her voice cutting through the buzz of conversation. The Hall fell silent almost immediately.
The Sorting Hat twitched slightly before its brim opened wide like a mouth. Fleur blinked in surprise as it began to sing, its voice rich and melodic:
Oh, you may not think I’m cool,
But don’t judge on what you view…
Fleur tuned out the rest of the song as her mind wandered. She had never experienced anything like this at Beauxbatons. There was no Sorting Hat there; students were simply assigned to their dormitories based on practical considerations. This felt far more… personal.
When the song ended, McGonagall unrolled a long scroll and began calling names alphabetically. One by one, students stepped forward to sit on the stool while the Sorting Hat deliberated over their fate.
“Abbott, Eleanor!” McGonagall called.
A nervous-looking girl with pigtails approached the stool and sat down. The hat barely touched her head before shouting, “Hufflepuff!” The table adorned with yellow and black erupted into cheers as Eleanor scurried over to join them.
Fleur watched as more names were called—“Bones, Edgar!”
"Ravenclaw"
“Brocklehurst, Michael!”
"Gryffindor"
and so on. The Sorting continued steadily until finally…
“Green, Artemis!”
Fleur felt a jolt in her chest as her name echoed through the hall. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she stepped forward. The eyes of every student in the Great Hall seemed to follow her as she made her way to the stool. She could feel their curiosity pressing down on her like a weight.
She sat down carefully, clutching the edges of the stool with small hands as McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. It slipped down over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
“Well now,” a voice murmured in her ear. “What have we here? A curious mind… sharp as a blade… but guarded. Oh yes, very guarded.”
Fleur stiffened slightly but said nothing.
“Ambition,” the hat continued thoughtfully. “Plenty of ambition… but not for power or glory. No… you seek something deeper—a purpose. A place where you belong.”
Fleur’s heart raced as she listened to its words.
“You’re cunning too,” it mused. “Resourceful… determined… yes, I know just where to put you.”
There was a pause before it shouted loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear:
“SLYTHERIN!”
The green-and-silver table erupted into polite applause—not loud or boisterous like Gryffindor or Hufflepuff’s cheers but measured and dignified. Fleur slipped off the stool and made her way toward them, keeping her expression neutral despite the mix of emotions swirling inside her.
As she approached the Slytherin table, several older students shifted to make room for her. A tall boy with slicked-back hair gave her an approving nod as she sat down.
“Welcome to Slytherin,” he said smoothly. “I’m Lucian Rosier—fifth year.”
“Thank you,” Fleur replied politely.
Another girl leaned forward from across the table—a striking blonde with sharp features who looked about fourteen or fifteen. “I’m Narcissa Black,” she said with an air of superiority that didn’t quite hide her curiosity. “First year?”
“Yes,” Fleur said simply.
“Well then,” Narcissa said with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “welcome.”
Fleur nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t say more. She wasn’t here to make waves—not yet anyway.
As more first-years were sorted into Slytherin—each greeted with similar polite applause—Fleur found herself observing them closely. Most were strangers to her (as they should be), but one name caught her attention:
“Snape, Severus!”
A pale boy with greasy black hair stepped forward hesitantly under McGonagall’s watchful gaze. He looked nervous but determined as he sat down on the stool.
The Sorting Hat took its time with him before finally declaring: “SLYTHERIN!”
Severus slid off the stool quickly and made his way toward their table without meeting anyone’s eyes. He sat down near Fleur but didn’t acknowledge her presence directly.
Fleur studied him discreetly out of the corner of her eye. Severus Snape—the man who would one day become Potions Master at Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin House—was just an awkward first-year boy now: quiet… reserved… almost painfully shy.
She turned back toward Narcissa Black just in time to catch another name being called: "Wilkes!"
The Sorting continued until all first-years were seated at their respective tables—and then Dumbledore rose from his chair at last…
With the Sorting Ceremony concluded and Dumbledore’s opening feast speech delivered, the students began to rise from their seats. The prefects, older students tasked with guiding and overseeing their respective houses, stepped forward to lead the way.
“First years, follow me,” Lucian Rosier said, his voice carrying easily over the remaining chatter. He gestured for the Slytherin first-years to gather around him.
Fleur fell into step behind him, careful to maintain a neutral expression as she followed the prefect through the bustling Great Hall and out into the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. The castle was even more impressive up close, with its towering stone walls, winding staircases, and countless portraits that seemed to watch them as they passed.
As they descended deeper into the dungeons, the air grew cooler and damper. Fleur could smell a faint hint of mildew and something else… something ancient and mysterious. It was an entirely different atmosphere from the upper levels of the castle.
“The Slytherin common room is located beneath the Black Lake,” Lucian explained as they walked. “It’s a bit of a trek, but you’ll get used to it.”
Fleur nodded silently, her mind racing with thoughts and observations. She had read about the Slytherin common room, knew of its location deep beneath the lake, knew its entrance was hidden. She'd read that the common room was a subterranean refuge that reflects the house’s character, with an emphasis on tradition, power, and a touch of danger. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it.
Finally, they reached a blank stretch of stone wall. Lucian paused before it, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching.
“The password is ‘Pureblood’,” he said quietly.
As soon as the word was spoken, the wall shimmered and dissolved, revealing a hidden doorway. Fleur gasped inwardly at the sight before them: a long, low room with rough stone walls and ceilings that seemed to glow with an eerie green light.
“Welcome to the Slytherin common room,” Lucian said with a smirk as he led them inside.
The common room was even more impressive than Fleur had imagined. Green lamps cast strange shadows across the room, illuminating dark chairs, leather sofas, and tapestries depicting scenes of serpents and ancient wizards. The windows looked out onto the depths of the Black Lake, where she saw glimpses of merpeople and other aquatic creatures. It wasn’t cozy, but it was undeniably regal.
“This is where you’ll be spending most of your free time,” Lucian said, gesturing around the room. “Make yourselves at home.”
He then directed them toward a set of stone stairs leading up to the dormitories. “The girls’ dorms are on the left, boys’ on the right. Find your names on the doors, and settle in.”
Fleur climbed the stairs slowly, her heart pounding with anticipation. What would her dormmates be like? Would they accept her? Or would she be an outcast, a muggleborn in the house of Slytherin?
She found her name etched into a plaque on one of the doors: Artemis Green. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open and stepped inside.
The dormitory was circular and spacious, with four poster beds draped in green silk[1]. The room was lit by the same eerie green glow that permeated the common room, giving everything a slightly surreal appearance.
Three girls were already inside, unpacking their trunks and chatting quietly. They turned to look at Fleur as she entered, their expressions ranging from curiosity to polite disinterest.
“Hello,” Fleur said, trying to project an air of confidence she didn’t quite feel. “I’m Artemis Green.”
“Eva Yaxley,” said a tall, slender girl with long black hair and piercing grey eyes.
“Gretta Shafiq,” said a plump, rosy-cheeked girl with a friendly smile.
“Hestia Parkinson,” said a haughty-looking girl with a prominent nose and tightly curled brown hair.
Fleur nodded to each of them, trying to gauge their reactions.
“Are you… pureblood?” Hestia asked bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.
Fleur hesitated for a moment before replying calmly, “No. I’m muggleborn.”
The three girls exchanged glances, a flicker of surprise—and perhaps something else—passing between them.
“Oh,” Eva said finally, her tone neutral. “Well, there’s a bed in the corner. You can have that one.”
Fleur looked over to see the bed Eva was referring to—it was tucked away in the far corner of the room, furthest from the windows and closest to the door. Isolated.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady as she walked over to claim her space.
As she began unpacking her trunk, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. She had expected this, of course—she knew about the prejudices that existed within the wizarding world, but she hadn’t thought she would encounter them so soon, so directly.
She had heard the tales of blood purity, had experienced them herself in a way. But to face it so soon, to be treated with such cool indifference simply because of her parentage… it stung more than she cared to admit. This was a new world for her, a new chance. But it seemed that some things, unfortunately, never changed.