"The Blasted Sorting Hat!"

Disclaimer: Not mine in any way.

It all started when the Sorting Hat shockingly announced, after being placed on Scorpius Malfoy's head, for a long five minutes, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Scorpius didn't know what to do. He felt suffocated by the stares that came from the Slytherin and the Gryffindor tables. His stomach felt weird and suddenly he could visualize his father's reaction. So he did the most natural thing that an eleven year old boy, who was in shock, could have done. He fainted.

It went on with the sorting of Rose Weasley which resulted in the Sorting Hat (bless the hat, but it is old and tattered and one would be able to assume that it does not always make the most accurate decisions) shouting, "SLYTHERIN!"

Rose gaped. Then she blinked repeatedly. Then she started laughing maniacally and ripped the Hat off her head, roaring to it, "YOU LIE!"

Or, at least, it would have been justified if she had done that. Instead, she just calmly walked to the Slytherin tables and sat there as if it had been the most natural thing to do. Until Cousin James had the courtesy of shouting across the Gryffindor table, where he sat facing the Slytherin tables, "What would Uncle Ron say?"

Rose blanked out for a moment (and in James' opinion, she was picturing the scenario) and then she let out a loud scream before fainting.

Headmistress McGonagall, had she been questioned, would have proclaim that it had been the most eventful sorting to have ever occurred.

"Enervate," Headmistress McGonagall cast and watched as the two students awoke.

"Professor McGonagall," the both of them greeted weakly in unison. Professor McGonagall had to suppress a smile.

"Why are we here?" young Scorpius asked. But as he saw the crest on his school robes, he groaned.

Rose, apparently, had seen hers as well, for she let out a small shriek. "It wasn't a dream!"

"No it wasn't, I'm afraid," she said to them.

"My dad is going to kill me," Rose said, "He's going to rip my intestines out of my body and hang me with them."

"Very creative, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall almost snorted, "But though I know how Mr. Weasley's temper can be, he would never be able to do that to his own daughter."

Rose almost cried. "You don't know how adamant my dad was on me being sorted into Gryffindor."

"I believe I do have some inkling." The secretive smile on her face made Rose cringe.

And here everything was. All her cards were on the table. She was the first Weasley in centuries to NOT be sorted into Gryffindor. Well, there was Great-Granduncle Zeddicus, but he didn't really count, since he was disowned shortly after he was sorted into Hufflepuff. (And to make matters worse, he had also been the only Weasley to kill himself before he even reached third year. And trust me, it hadn't been because of stress.)

So what the heck was she going to do? Not only was she not a proud Gryffindor like her dad would have so loved her to be, but she had ended up in the House of Snakes.

Rose Weasley, a Slytherin. Could anyone actually believe that? She herself was in certain denial.

Her father was going to kill her. Kill, disown, and then hex her until she died. She was almost sure of this.

She owed all of this, actually, to the great old Sorting Hat. If she could get her hands on it, she would force it to eat back his words and declare her a Gryffindor. If not, she supposed shredding it would be a good idea, too. But not before she stomped on it till it begged for mercy.

"My dad is going to disown me," Scorpius told Professor McGonagall earnestly, "You have to make the Sorting Hat refute its decision!"

"The Sorting Hat makes no mistakes," Professor McGonagall told him pertly.

"But it's old and tattered," Rose voiced out, "It could make mistakes, you know."

"The Sorting Hat has never made mistakes." Professor McGonagall sighed.

Rose scowled.

So did Scorpius.

"I can't write back to my father and tell him that I'm a Gryffindor! Do you know what he'll do?" Scorpius all but screeched.

"Mr. Malfoy is a reasonable man. He will understand," Professor McGonagall soothed.

"Do you know my father?" Scorpius asked, raking a hand through his hair. "He gave me lessons on Slytherin etiquette! He hired me a tutor to teach me Slytherin history! He is going to kill me."

"You are overreacting, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure your father would be perfectly fine with your sorting." But even as she said it, Professor McGonagall didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth.

The look on Scorpius' face told her that he hadn't bought it either.

Before him, his father, Draco Malfoy, had been the iconic figure of Slytherin. Before Draco, there had been Grandfather Lucius. And before that, Great-Grandfather Abraxas, Great-Great-Grandfather Xavier, and all the other Malfoy men.

Now, there was him. Scorpius Malfoy, non-Slytherin.

He couldn't bear to call himself a Gryffindor. One of the Malfoy men would most certainly be rolling in his grave. Or more accurately, they would be banging on their graves really hard, trying to get out of it so that they would be able to kill him.

This was terrible, horrible, and absolutely ghastly. How in the name of Salazar —or was he supposed to say 'Godric' now?— had he gotten himself into this situation again? Oh yes, that blasted Sorting Hat.

He would have to at least shred it with his bare hands before his forefathers shredded him. If he were going down, he would take it down with him.

"I think," Professor McGonagall started, "that the most logical thing for the both of you to do right now would be to inform your parents."

Two incredulous looks met her words.

"You cannot be serious!" Rose exclaimed, just as Scorpius said, "I beg your pardon?"

Professor McGonagall nodded sagely. Granted, she had been doing this for years. Trying to soothe the first years and telling them that it would be alright. But this was special. It was Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy's children, both being sorted into the "wrong" houses.

"Yes," she said, "In fact, you should both write your letters right now in my office."

Dad and Mum,

I've been sorted. Al too. Al is in Gryffindor.

But the important thing is, you know, it's that Scorpius Malfoy, the son of Draco Malfoy, the man whom you have hated since you were my age, got sorted too today. But I suspect that you would, of course, guess that. Did you expect him to be a Slytherin like his parents? No, thank you very much, he's a Gryffindor.

Is that not brilliant?

I met him in Headmistress McGonagall's office today, when we went to settle some troubling…matters. (No, mum, do not start lecturing me. I did not get into a fight, physically or magically, with Malfoy.) He seemed to be really scared that his father would disown him.

But I don't really think that parents should disown their children, no matter what house they have been sorted in. A house is just where points are deducted from. They don't really mean that much. I don't get all the fuss about the sorting. Each house has its own good quality - Hufflepuff for kind people, Ravenclaw for the smart, Gryffindor for the courageous and lastly, Slytherin for the ambitious. They are all great, so why do parents go positively gaga over it?

Say, if Hugo were sorted into Hufflepuff (which, you both know, is very possible), would you disown him? The mere idea is ridiculous! I know the both of you, being such amazing parents as you are, love us too much to disown us, no matter what we do.

Love,

Rose

PS- Dad, think happy thoughts. Now!

PPS- Mum, please make sure dad doesn't disown me. I'm in Slytherin.

Father,

Before I tell you which house I've been sorted into, please indulge me by letting me tell you a story.

When I was five years old, you asked me once what my favourite colour was. I told you it was gold and you almost had a heart attack. The very next day, you bought me a book. It was entitled "Slytherin Throughout The Ages". Grandfather Lucius was in it, and so were you, briefly. I remember you explaining to me how the Malfoys have all been Slytherins since our history were ever recorded. I listened to your stories and took your advices seriously.

The next time you asked me about my favourite colour, I replied that it was green. This time, you were happy. When I was seven, though, you decided that it would be safer to hire me a tutor on Slytherin etiquette. I believe it was Grandfather Lucius' idea. The tutor, Monsieur Gourdine, had been a Slytherin during his time -which I had then thought to be two hundred years ago- and had taught me a lot. But soon after he had started teaching me, he realised that I wouldn't make a good Slytherin. After that, he met up with you and talked to you about it, but father, you were insistent on me being a Slytherin. And so Monsieur Gourdine, Merlin bless him, gave me a book behind your back.

"How to Be a Slytherin" was no ordinary book. I was then eight and desired to do whatever it took for you to be proud of me. I devoured the book and by the time I was nine, I could practically quote it word for word. The book contained theories and ideas, countless of them, on how to successfully get oneself into Slytherin even though they were obviously not meant for it.

Today, when Professor Longbottom put the Sorting Hat upon my head, I tested out the theories in the book. I thought Slytherin thoughts; I focused my mind on being sorted into Slytherin. But instead, the Sorting Hat told me that it took great courage to try to deceive it.

I am sorry father, but I did not make it into Slytherin.

Yours,

Scorpius

PS – It's Gryffindor.

PPS - I have taken the liberty to write to Monsieur Gourdine before I wrote to you. There's not point in trying to "hunt him down", as I believe you would do.

"Now," Professor McGonagall said cheerfully to Scorpius and Rose as the school owls flew into the dark, taking their letters along with them, "All we have to do is to wait for the replies."

Rose looked positively green while Scorpius felt faint.

"The both of you can stay in my office to wait for your replies," she said again, "I'm sure your parents would both be eager to send their replies. Or, alternatively, you can go back to your respective common rooms."

"I think I'm fine here," Rose said weakly. She felt better here where she wasn't surrounded by Slytherins to mock her when she received her Howler. Oh yes, her dad was bound to be sending her a Howler. She was sure of that.

Scorpius nodded in answer. "I think I feel better with a friend." He gave Rose a small smile, which Rose returned.

Rose seemed surprised that Scorpius had acknowledged her as a friend even though they had barely known each other. After all the bad things she had heard about the Malfoys, she was now starting to wonder if her dad had been exaggerating, like he loved to.

But it didn't really matter what his parents or his forefathers were like. Scorpius Malfoy was a nice person, and a Gryffindor to boot. He would make a great friend.

And that marked the beautiful start of what would be a lovely (and exciting at all times) friendship.

"So?" Draco asked Astoria urgently, "Is there a letter from Scorpius yet?"

"Oh relax, Draco!" Narcissa chirped. "I'm sure Scorpius will be sensible enough to send us a missive as soon as he can. He's probably caught up in the Slytherin initiation program."

Lucius nodded. "My initiation took the whole night. I wouldn't be surprise if we don't receive a letter today."

Astoria just smiled and patted Draco on the arm gently. "He will be just fine."

"I specifically asked him to write me a letter as soon as sorting is over. I don't see a damned letter yet…" Draco muttered under his breath.

Just then, there was a tap on the window. It was an owl. A Hogwarts owl!

"Right about time!" Astoria exclaimed.

Draco didn't speak. He just untied the letter from the owl and all but tore the letter out of its envelope, his eyes scanning quickly through the letter.

"So?" Lucius asked, impatient. "What was the boy's initiation act?"

"There…" Draco trailed off, "There's no initiation act." He sat down on one of the chairs near him to read the letter once again.

Narcissa shrugged before turning back to her tea and scones. "I wouldn't be surprised if they just spring it on him tomorrow. It was like that for me. I was expecting to be initiated that night, but it never happened. Caught me off guard when they finally initiated me, I say…"

Astoria watched Draco intently. Then, her ice blue eyes widened and she gasped. "He didn't make it in Slytherin!"

Draco's nod met two other gasps.

"What do you mean he didn't make it in?" Lucius roared. "For generations we Malfoys have prided ourselves in being Slytherins! How can you tell me that he didn't make it in?"

"Oh dear, oh dear," Narcissa muttered, "What a muddle, what a muddle!"

Draco could only stare at the letter in his hands.

"May I?" Astoria finally asked, reaching out for the letter.

Draco handed it to her, "Of course."

Astoria, too, scanned through the letter. But unlike her husband, when she reached the end of the letter, she laughed. "Oh Lucius, Narcissa, you haven't heard the best of it yet!"

"What is it?" Lucius managed to grit out, thoroughly annoyed that Astoria could still laugh at a horrible time like this.

"Scorpius is a Gryffindor!"

Lucius fell onto the ground in a dead faint.

Ron kept his eyes tightly shut as Hermione read the letter.

"Albus is in Gryffindor, Ron," she said with a smile, "Thank Merlin for that. He was so scared."

Ron nodded. "I can't see Al, Harry's son, getting in anywhere but Gryffindor. And Rosie?" he asked.

"She hasn't said anything yet." Hermione continued reading. "Oh!"

"What?" Ron asked excitedly. "Come on Hermione, don't keep me in suspense!"

"You wouldn't be in suspense if you'd just come over here and read the letter for yourself…" she muttered under her breath. "Malfoy's son, Scorpius, he's in Gryffindor."

Ron's eyes flew open. "Malfoy's son is in Gryffindor?" He started laughing. "Oh divine retribution!" He cackled. "Oh, how I would love to see his reaction to this news! A Malfoy! In Gryffindor!"

"Oh, no," Hermione breathed. "This is not looking good."

"What isn't?" Ron asked, "Malfoy's son is in Gryffindor! What's there not to be happy about? I think Malfoy may disown the poor boy!"

Hermione eyed Ron squarely. "Would you disown Rose if she weren't in Gryffindor?"

Ron snorted. "It's impossible that she doesn't make it in Gryffindor. I've never even thought that far."

"All possibilities aside," Hermione reasoned, "Would you disown her if she weren't in Gryffindor?"

Ron snorted again and cheerfully said, "Nope."

Hermione laughed. "You better keep your word, because our daughter is officially a Slytherin."

Ron fell off his chair.

Rose looked over at Scorpius, who was looking out the windows, as if they could provide a decent explanation for the turn of events.

"Hey," she said softly. He turned to look at her. "Do you want to…get out of here?"

"Sure. This suspense is killing me. Our fathers have probably already fainted anyway. We're probably not getting our letters tonight." He smiled at her.

Rose stood up, happy to get out of the suffocating office. Scorpius stood as well. Both made their way out of the office and left with small smiles etched across their faces.