Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was unlike anything you had ever seen. Hundreds of candles floated beneath a bewitched ceiling that mirrored the dark, star-filled sky outside. Four enormous tables stretched across the hall, crowded with students in black robes, while banners bearing different house colors hung high above them. At the far end, the staff table watched the ceremony with an air of solemn importance. None of it felt real. You were still trying to understand how you’d gotten here in the first place. Only hours ago, you had been living an ordinary life. Now you were standing among witches and wizards, waiting to have your future decided by a talking hat. Your attention wandered across the Slytherin table. That was when you noticed him. Draco Malfoy.

The pale-haired boy had been watching you almost since you entered the hall. He sat with an air of effortless superiority, his silver-blond hair perfectly arranged and his expression carrying the unmistakable look of someone who had already decided he was better than everyone around him. His pants clung to his curvy frame like paint on a wall. His eyes briefly traveled over your clothes before he leaned toward the boy beside him. “Probably a Muggle,” he muttered, just loud enough for those nearest him to hear. His companion snickered. Draco looked back at you. “Filthy Muggle,” he added under his breath. You weren’t entirely sure what the insult meant yet. You only knew from his expression that it wasn’t meant kindly. One by one, students were called forward. Then your name echoed through the Great Hall. “You. Come forward.” The room seemed to grow quieter as you approached the stool. You sat down, and the ancient Sorting Hat was placed over your head. “Hmm...” The hat seemed to consider you. “Interesting. Very interesting indeed...” Its voice seemed to echo inside your thoughts. “You could fit in several places. But there is one house where you’ll find what you need...” There was a pause. “Better be—SLYTHERIN!” The Slytherin table erupted into applause. For a moment, you simply stared. Slytherin? You stood and made your way toward the table. Draco’s expression had changed. The smug amusement he’d worn earlier was gone. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the briefest moment, he looked genuinely surprised. Then his expression settled back into its usual self-satisfied smirk. “Well,” he murmured, watching you approach, “that’s unexpected.” You took your place among the other newly sorted Slytherins. Draco continued glancing your way throughout the feast. Whatever he had expected from you, apparently being sorted into Slytherin hadn’t been it.

Later that evening, the new Slytherins were led through the winding corridors beneath Hogwarts and into their common room. The room was unlike anywhere you’d ever been. Dark green furnishings surrounded you, illuminated by the eerie green glow filtering through the underwater windows. Stone walls curved around the room, giving it the atmosphere of an ancient underground chamber. Beyond the glass, shadows of aquatic creatures drifted through the black water. You were still taking everything in when the entrance opened. Draco Malfoy stepped inside. Behind him came Crabbe and Goyle. The two larger boys followed him like silent shadows. Draco stopped when he noticed you. “Ah.” He slowly looked around the common room before looking back at you. “So you’re the new Slytherin.” His gaze traveled over you again. “I suppose I should have expected it. Hogwarts seems to be getting rather...generous with its admissions lately.” Crabbe chuckled. “They let practically anyone in,” Draco continued, walking farther into the room. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they started admitting Muggles next.” He paused. “Actually...” His eyes settled directly on you. “I suppose they already have.” Goyle laughed. Draco seemed pleased with himself. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying you don’t belong here.” He immediately gave you a look that suggested he absolutely was. “After all, the Sorting Hat put you here. Though I’m sure even it makes mistakes occasionally.” He casually dropped into one of the armchairs, crossing one leg over the other. His large thick thighs pressed against each other, looking good and ready to break free from his pants. “Still, Slytherin has standards.” He gestured vaguely around the room. “And you’ll quickly learn that surviving Hogwarts is considerably easier when you know the right people.” Draco tilted his head. “People like me.” He said it as though it were the most obvious fact in the world. “My family has been associated with Slytherin for generations. My father knows half the important people in the wizarding world, and the other half know him.”

He leaned back comfortably. “So, naturally, I have a certain reputation to maintain.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Which means I can’t have just anyone wandering around claiming to be part of my circle.” There was a deliberate pause. “Fortunately for you...” Draco gave a small, smug smile. “I’m willing to make an exception.” Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances. “You can join us.” The way he said it made it sound less like an invitation and more like an extraordinary privilege being granted. “You should be grateful, really.” He stood and straightened his robes. “Most first-years would spend their entire time here trying to get noticed by people like us.” Draco stepped closer. “I’m saving you the trouble.” His expression became almost patronizingly pleasant. “You’ll have my protection, my connections, and the privilege of being associated with the Malfoys.” He gave you another slow once-over. “So don’t make the mistake of thinking this is some sort of mutual arrangement.” His smirk returned. “I’m letting you into my circle.” Draco turned away, already seeming to assume your acceptance. “Try not to embarrass me.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “And perhaps, if you’re lucky, you’ll eventually prove you deserve to be here.”

Hogwarts was still impossible to comprehend. Everything about the castle seemed designed to remind you that you had stepped into a world that shouldn’t exist. Moving staircases. Portraits that spoke. Ghosts drifting through the corridors. Students casually performing magic as though it were the most ordinary thing imaginable. And yet, somehow, you had been chosen to attend. You still weren’t entirely sure why. The Sorting Ceremony had only made things more confusing. You stood beneath the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, surrounded by hundreds of unfamiliar faces, while the ancient Sorting Hat rested upon your head. “Hmm...” The hat seemed to consider you carefully. “Very interesting...” After what felt like an eternity, its voice rang through the hall. “GRYFFINDOR!” The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. You removed the hat and made your way toward your new house. Draco Malfoy watched from the Slytherin table. His expression barely changed. “Gryffindor,” he muttered dismissively.

To him, that was the end of it. Another Gryffindor. Another student he had no reason to care about. But while Draco returned his attention to the feast, several Slytherins continued watching you. “There’s something strange about them,” one whispered. “You felt it too?” another replied. Draco’s eyes shifted toward you again. For the briefest moment, his expression tightened. He felt it. There was something about you that he couldn’t explain. Something subtle. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. But Draco Malfoy wasn’t about to admit that. “You’re imagining things,” he said flatly. He turned away. “They’re just a Gryffindor.” And that was that. Or so he told himself. Several days passed. You gradually became accustomed to the castle, though Hogwarts remained full of mysteries you couldn’t quite make sense of. You learned which staircases moved, which corridors led nowhere, and which professors seemed to tolerate students wandering around after hours. One afternoon, you found yourself alone in one of the quieter corridors. The castle was unusually silent. Then footsteps echoed from around the corner. Draco Malfoy appeared. He stopped when he noticed you. For a moment, neither of you moved. Draco’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You.” He looked around the empty corridor before turning his attention back toward you. “Always wandering around by yourself.” He slowly approached, his large thighs jiggling like water ferociously with each light step. “I suppose that’s what happens when you end up in Gryffindor.” His lips curled into a smug smile. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” He stopped a few feet away. “Slytherin is obviously the superior house.” He said it as though this were an established fact that didn’t require discussion. “We’re ambitious. Intelligent. Resourceful. We come from families that actually matter in the wizarding world.” Draco straightened his robes. “Gryffindor, on the other hand...” He gave a dismissive scoff. “All bravery and no sense. Charging into danger because they think being reckless makes them heroic.”

He tilted his head. “It’s rather embarrassing, honestly.” Draco stepped slightly closer. “And then there’s Slytherin’s reputation.” His expression became increasingly smug. “My house has produced some of the most influential witches and wizards in history. My family has been Slytherin for generations.” He gestured toward himself. “I’m exactly where I belong.” His eyes traveled over you. “You?” He gave a short laugh. Even with that short laugh, you saw his ass give a little shake. “Not so much.” For a moment, that strange feeling returned. The same inexplicable sensation Draco had noticed during the Sorting Ceremony. Something about you still felt...wrong. Different. He couldn’t put his finger on it. And that irritated him. So instead of acknowledging it, Draco buried the feeling beneath another insult. “Whatever it is that makes everyone keep staring at you, don’t get any ideas.” His voice became colder. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’m a Slytherin.” He pointedly looked you up and down. “Stay out of my way, and we’ll have no problems.” He turned as though he intended to leave. Then stopped. Draco glanced back. “Actually...” That familiar smirk returned. “There’s something else.” He looked directly at you. “You really should stop pretending you belong here.” His eyes narrowed. “I can tell what you are.” A beat of silence. “A filthy Muggle.” The insult hung in the empty corridor. Draco waited. He expected anger. An argument. Perhaps some indignant Gryffindor speech about courage and friendship. Instead, he simply stood there, watching you. His arms folded across his chest. “Well?” His eyebrow lifted. “I’m waiting.”