The resorting of Harry Potter

The Great Hall buzzed with the excitement of returning students, the familiar scent of roasting meats filling the air. It had been a year since the final battle, a year since everything changed. Yet, some things remained constant, like the long tables of House banners and the enchanted ceiling reflecting the crisp autumn sky.
But there was something new this time-the sorting hat.

It sat on the stool, looking slightly more worn than before, as Headmistress McGonagall stood at the front of the hall, her glasses perched at the end of her nose. The students were seated in their usual spots, but there was a noticeable tension in the air. Everyone was eager to see who would change houses after the war, to see who they had become.

“I know you all are anxious to begin your final year,”

McGonagall began, her voice firm but warm,

“but before we do, there is one final ceremony to attend. This year, the Sorting Hat will be resorting each of you, to reflect the changes you’ve undergone during your time away from Hogwarts.”

A few students whispered excitedly, exchanging glances. Harry could feel his heart racing as he sat with his friends at the Gryffindor table. The idea of being resorted felt odd. But then again, after everything that had happened, could he really say he was still the same person he had been when he first walked through those doors?

"Let’s begin,"

McGonagall continued, and with a flick of her wand, the Sorting Hat rose into the air, waiting.
Harry glanced at his friends. Ron was looking worried, his freckled face pale. Hermione, always the calm one, had her hands folded neatly in front of her, but Harry could see the anticipation in her eyes. Ginny, beside them, shot Harry a reassuring smile.
It was time.

"Potter, Harry."

The hall fell into an expectant silence. Harry stood, taking a deep breath, and walked up to the Sorting Hat. It was heavier than he remembered, its cool fabric resting against his hair.

"Ah, Potter,"

the hat murmured in his ear.

"You’ve changed, haven’t you? So much more than you realize."

Harry swallowed nervously.

"I suppose I have."

The Sorting Hat seemed to ponder for a moment, its brim twitching as it assessed him. Then, with a small chuckle, it finally declared,

“SLYTHERIN!”

A shocked gasp spread across the hall, and Harry felt all eyes on him. The Gryffindor table was silent, Ron’s mouth hanging open in disbelief. Hermione looked as if she was trying to make sense of it, while Ginny’s expression was a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Harry took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach. This was it. No turning back. He walked to the Slytherin table, where a few familiar faces gave him wary glances. There was a space next to Draco, who had been watching him carefully, his silver eyes narrowed. Harry didn’t know what to expect from him, but his presence was oddly reassuring. He sat down, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
McGonagall cleared her throat, the ceremony continuing as students were resorted one by one. But Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had just shifted. Hogwarts, the war, his entire life- everything was different now.

------

The ceremony had come to an end, and the hall slowly returned to its usual noise, but there was an underlying tension that lingered. Students who had changed houses seemed to find solace in the familiar faces they now sat with, while others, like Ron, found their place unchanged. Ron, ever the loyal Gryffindor, was still seated at the same table as always, his eyes flicking nervously to Harry every so often, as if checking if he was alright. Hermione, on the other hand, had been moved to Ravenclaw.

She wore a thoughtful look on her face, as though she was already mulling over the meaning of her new house. She caught Harry's eye from across the hall and gave him a small, knowing smile, silently reassuring him that it would all be alright.
As Harry sat at the Slytherin table, he felt the weight of the stares on him. The usual whispers, the silent judgment- none of it came. There were only a few fleeting glances, but no one dared to comment on the fact that "the savior" was now sitting with the Slytherins. For once, the weight of his past didn’t seem to follow him. It felt oddly... peaceful.

But then there was Draco.

The once proud, slightly smirking Slytherin was sitting at the table with his usual elegance, his silver eyes flicking over to Harry before he quickly returned to his meal, keeping his head held high. Draco didn’t seem the least bit phased by Harry’s presence in the house. no mocking words, no snide remarks. Just the quiet confidence that Harry had come to expect from him.
For some reason, that reassured Harry more than anything.

Draco, who had been at the heart of so much of Harry’s life, wasn’t treating him any differently. That was oddly comforting, especially in a room where everything felt so... different.
Harry found himself meeting Draco’s gaze across the table, his heart beating a little faster than usual. It felt like there was a lot unspoken between them, and despite the years of tension, there was something there now-a kind of understanding.

------

The noise in the Great Hall was slowly settling down as dinner began, but Harry could still feel the weight of the day’s events pressing down on him. He had barely taken a bite of his food before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Harry, we need to talk."

It was Ron. His face was red, and he looked about two seconds away from bursting with worry.

"Mate, what on earth was that all about? Slytherin? You’re- you're not one of them!"

Ron's voice was a mixture of disbelief and panic, his hand clutching Harry’s arm like a lifeline.

"I mean, I know things have changed, but this? This is mental!"

Harry sighed, his eyes flicking across the table. He could feel a pair of eyes on him- Draco, of course- but he didn’t want to deal with that right now.

"I’m still the same person, Ron,"

Harry said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"It’s just a house. It doesn’t mean anything."

"Doesn’t mean anything?"

Ron nearly shouted.

"Harry, you’ve spent your entire life being the Gryffindor! And now—Slytherin?"

His face scrunched in confusion and concern.

"What’s going to happen? Are they gonna start expecting you to act all... Slytherin-y?"

Hermione, who had been quietly listening from the other side of Harry, finally spoke up.

"Ron, calm down,"

she said gently, her brow furrowed with concern, but also trying to maintain a sense of optimism.

"Harry hasn’t changed, not really. The Sorting Hat chose him for a reason. Maybe there’s something about him now that fits Slytherin, but that doesn’t mean he’s suddenly one of them."

Ron shot her a skeptical look.

"But—"

"But,"

Hermione continued, her tone firm but kind,

"Harry is still Harry. You said it yourself, Ron. He’s been through a lot. And maybe he’s changed. Maybe we all have."

She glanced at Harry, her eyes soft with concern.

"But it’s not a bad thing. Maybe he’ll find something about himself that he didn’t know before."

Ron slumped back in his seat, still looking flustered.

"I just don’t get it. I mean, Slytherin? That’s... that’s where all the troublemakers were. The ones who—"

"Not all of them were bad,"

Hermione interrupted gently.

"Some of them, yes, but not everyone. And Harry’s not like them. He’s not *that* kind of Slytherin."

Harry felt a small sense of relief at her words, but he could tell Ron wasn’t entirely convinced. He still looked uneasy, his eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and the rest of the Slytherin table, as though he expected someone to jump out and attack at any moment.

"Look,"

Harry said, trying to lighten the mood,

"I’m still me. Slytherin or not. And if anyone gives me trouble about it, well..." He glanced over at Draco, who hadn’t been paying much attention, his attention fixed on his food. "I think I can handle it."

Ron blinked, confused by the sudden change in Harry’s attitude.

"You’re... not worried? At all?"

"No,"

Harry said, smiling slightly.

"Not really. I think maybe this will be alright."

Hermione gave him a small, approving nod.

"Exactly. You’ve been through much worse, Harry. This is just another change, another step forward. And we’ll all be here with you, no matter what house you’re in."

Ron still seemed a little unsure, but he managed a small smile, though it was laced with a hint of worry.

"Well, alright then. But if anyone starts giving you a hard time, let me know. I’ll—"

"Save me?"

Harry teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Ron replied with a grin, though the worry still lingered in his eyes.

The conversation shifted after that, but Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that things were different. He wasn’t just Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He was Harry Potter, a Slytherin. And that meant things would never be quite the same.

------

After the dinner had ended, Harry found himself with no particular place to go. His friends had all gone their separate ways- Ron back to Gryffindor, Hermione off to Ravenclaw. Harry, however, still had to find his new home for the year.
The other students had already begun trickling out of the Great Hall, but Harry lingered for a moment, not quite sure what to do next. He hadn’t been given any instructions about the Slytherin common room, and he figured someone would show him the way. But as he looked around the hall, it became painfully clear that no one seemed to want to approach him. Slytherins scattered across the hall seemed to avoid eye contact, their heads bent as if trying to pretend he wasn’t there. Harry could understand their hesitation. after all, he had just been resorted into their house. But still, it was a little unnerving.
Finally, he sighed and stood up, ready to just wander around until he found the entrance, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Potter.”

Harry turned to find Draco standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"I suppose you’re lost, aren’t you?"

Draco said, his tone teasing yet not unkind.

Harry blinked, taken aback by the offer.

“You’re going to show me to the common room?”

“Why else would I be standing here?”

Draco replied, the smirk turning into something more like a quiet amusement. He pushed away from the wall, nodding toward the door.

“Follow me, Potter. I’ll give you the tour. You should know where you’re going by the time you get there.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering why Draco, of all people, would be the one to step up. But there was something about Draco’s demeanor- his indifference to Harry’s presence that felt reassuring in its own strange way.
He followed Draco through the corridors, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. Harry couldn’t help but notice that, even though Draco hadn’t said much, there was an odd ease between them. It was as if the years of tension had been shed, leaving only a quiet understanding between them.
Finally, they reached a portrait of a large, green serpent. Draco stopped in front of it, turning to look at Harry.

“Just speak the password,”

Draco instructed, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge,

“and the entrance will open.”

“Right,”

Harry muttered, glancing at the serpent, not entirely sure what to say.

“What’s the matter? Don’t know the password yet?”

Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Er, no,"

Harry admitted.

"I don’t.”

Draco rolled his eyes but then stepped forward, speaking the password in a soft, low voice. The serpent slithered away, revealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Harry followed Draco inside, noticing how different it was from the Gryffindor common room. The walls were covered in deep green velvet, and the room had an almost otherworldly feel to it, the dim lighting giving it a mysterious vibe. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, but most of the Slytherins were sitting in quiet groups, eyeing Harry cautiously as he entered.
Draco led him over to one of the armchairs by the fire, sitting down across from him.

“Well,”

Draco began,

“this is it. You’re a Slytherin now. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Harry nodded, still processing everything. “Thanks, Malfoy,”

he said quietly, feeling a strange sense of gratitude that he hadn’t expected.

Draco gave him a small nod in return.

"Don't mention it,"

he replied, though there was something softer in his tone than Harry had expected. For a long moment, the two of them sat in silence, the crackling fire the only sound filling the room. Despite the strange newness of everything, Harry couldn’t help but feel... almost at ease.

------

Harry had barely sat down in the common room before he decided to give it a try. He hadn’t come here to be alone, and if he was going to get through this year, he figured it would help to try and make some connections. So, with a deep breath, he stood up and made his way over to a group of Slytherins sitting near the edge of the room.

"Hey,"

he said, offering a small, awkward smile.

"I’m Harry. I’m new here."

The group fell silent. They all exchanged glances before one of them—someone with dark hair and a sharp jawline- glared at him. The silence lingered for a moment too long before the guy mumbled something under his breath and turned away, effectively dismissing him. Undeterred, Harry moved to the next group, a pair of students deep in conversation. They paused, briefly eyeing him before one of them, a tall Slytherin girl, quickly turned her back. The other one, a skinny boy with messy blonde hair, shot Harry a nervous glance, stammering,

“S-sorry. I- uh, didn’t mean to—”

Before he could finish, the boy was already backing away, muttering apologies as he retreated to the other side of the room. Harry sighed, feeling the familiar sting of rejection. It wasn’t surprising. The Slytherins were a cautious lot, and Harry was hardly what they’d expect in their house. Still, it was disheartening.
He slumped his shoulders and made his way to the stairs that led to the dormitories, keeping his head down. He didn’t want to make a spectacle of himself. As he climbed the stairs, he tried to shake off the feeling of being a stranger in a house that should feel like home by now. When he reached the top of the stairs, he pushed open the door to the shared room.

And there, sitting on one of the beds, was Draco Malfoy.

Harry stopped in his tracks, his heart dropping for a moment. Of course. He should’ve expected it, but the reality still hit hard. Draco was sitting there, flipping through a book, his usual smirk now absent, replaced by a look of quiet curiosity.

“Well, well,”

Draco said, glancing up.

“Seems like the Slytherins are already making you feel right at home.”

Harry gave him a flat look.

“I thought they were supposed to be my housemates,”

he muttered, walking further into the room.

“Not make me feel like a stranger.”

Draco’s expression softened for just a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Slytherins don’t exactly make friends easily,”

he said.

“Especially with you, Potter.”

Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, I gathered that,”

he muttered, his tone a mix of frustration and resignation.

“I’m just... not sure where I fit in, you know?”

Draco studied him for a moment, then set the book down on his lap.

“You’ll figure it out,”

he said simply, his voice not unkind.

“You’ve got more in common with them than you think.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?”

Draco shrugged.

“Ambition, cunning... that sort of thing. And besides, who better to understand what it’s like to be out of place in a house full of people who don’t quite get you?”

The comment hit a little too close to home, and Harry let out a frustrated breath. He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the two beds. One of them was already made, while the other was in a state of disarray, with clothes scattered across the blankets.

“Great,”

Harry muttered to himself.

“Just what I needed.”

Draco smirked at the sight of Harry's expression.

“Welcome to your new home, Potter. At least now you don’t have to worry about the rest of them.”

Harry just sighed, He slumped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The quiet of the room, combined with the fact that he was now sharing it with Draco, was a bit much to handle. He could hear Draco shifting on his bed, clearly trying to figure out what to say next.

"You know,"

Draco said, breaking the silence, his tone a little too casual,

"this is weird, Potter. I never thought I’d end up sharing a room with you. Then again, I never thought I'd have to share it with anyone."

Harry couldn’t help but smirk, rolling his eyes.

“You act like I’m some sort of disease, Malfoy.”

“I don’t need to act, Potter. You’re already contagious.”

Harry let out a short laugh at that.

“Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Draco shot him a side-glance.

“You seem to forget, I’ve had years of practice with you. I’m just getting started.”

“Ah, right,”

Harry replied sarcastically, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Years of insults. How could I forget?”

Draco leaned back on his own bed, crossing his arms behind his head.

“You should be grateful, Potter. My insults are high-quality. Not everyone gets such a privilege.”

Harry let out a mock gasp.

“I’m so honored.”

“Well, you should be,”

Draco shot back, though his tone was laced with amusement.

“I could be spending my time with better company, but I’m stuck here, stuck with you.”

“Stuck with me?”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t sound too upset about it. You were perfectly fine with ignoring me back in the common room.”

Draco smirked.

“I have my moments of pity. Besides, you might actually grow on me.”

Harry tilted his head, pretending to think it over.

“Pity, huh? I didn’t think you did pity.”

“I don’t. But for you, Potter…”

Draco paused dramatically, his smirk widening,

“I might make an exception.”

Harry chuckled, sitting up fully now.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t need your pity, Malfoy. I’ve managed to survive all these years without it.”

Draco made a show of looking Harry up and down.

“Clearly. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He paused.

“Though I don’t know if I’d call that surviving. More like... stumbling through life without ever realizing you have a clue.”

Harry smirked, not missing a beat.

“And here I thought you were getting nicer, Draco. Must’ve been a mistake.”

Draco scoffed, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

“You think I’m nice? What do you take me for?”

“An idiot who likes to run his mouth,”

Harry teased, leaning back on his bed.

Draco’s eyes narrowed, but the edge was gone from his voice.

“And you, Potter, are a Gryffindor who thinks his bravery makes up for the fact that he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I don’t need to keep it shut. It’s not like you’d actually say anything important anyway.”

Draco smirked.

“Oh, I say plenty of important things. You’re just too busy being a martyr to notice.”

Harry laughed and flopped back down on his bed, arms behind his head.

“A martyr? Please. You’re just mad you haven’t been able to rile me up today.”

Draco’s smirk faded slightly, but his expression was still amused.

“Don’t worry, Potter. I’ll find a way.”

Harry grinned, turning his head to face Draco.

“You always do.”