Snake

Ron sat down on the stool and closed his eyes.

He would be in Gryffindor, just like all his brothers. All the Weasleys were the same, that was what the Wizarding World said. After you knew one, you knew them all. And Ron was going to end up being just another Weasley, just the same as his brothers. Nothing to distinguish him... Nothing to raise him up above the-

"SLYTHERIN!"

Ron was halfway to the Gryffindor table before he realised what the Hat had said. "What? No!"

He ran back to the stool and slammed the Hat back on.

"You can't dump me in Slytherin! My family'll kill me!"

But the Hat didn't reply.

And McGonagall was pointing at the Slytherin table, and looking grumpy, and the whole hall was watching him – isn't that what you wanted? a nasty little voice asked him – so he slouched over to the Slytherin table. He was careful not to look at the Gryffindors. Malfoy glared at him as he made his way to the far end of the table – as far away from the blond git as he could physically manage.

Slytherin. How could he possibly have ended up in Slytherin?

Ron spent the whole feast trying to avoid both Gryffindors and Slytherins, and was actually pleased when it was finished and he was going to the Slytherin Common Room (he was a Slytherin, now. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe it) and to his dormitory. And his bed wasn't the one next to Malfoy: he was at the opposite end of the dorm, thank Merlin, and he could just go to sleep and hope that when he woke up he would get on the Hogwarts Express and be Sorted into Gryffindor, like the rest of his family...

All the Weasleys were the same. At least, they were supposed to be.

Severus' head shot up in horror when his dungeon door banged against the wall. This was why he didn't keep any volatile potion ingredients in student-accessible areas.

"Careful!" he hissed, before realising what the orange head meant.

"Ah. Weasley."

Weasley had been Sorted into Slytherin the previous evening, and Severus was not sure which of them had been more horrified. A Weasley in Slytherin! Salazar would be turning in his grave.

"I demand a re-Sort!"

Severus blinked. I couldn't agree more. "I beg your pardon?"

"Re-Sort me! I refuse to be a Slytherin!" He spat out the last word in disgust.

Severus smirked. "I may be the Head of Slytherin House, Weasley, but that does not automatically imply control over the mind of a hat, enchanted or otherwise... I suggest you take your objection to the Headmaster."

Weasley glared at him before storming back out of Severus' dungeon – ensuring that he slammed the door behind him and knocked the Unbreakable Jar of gnome mucus off its shelf.

Albus was used to either one of the Weasley twins being sent to his office after some misdemeanour or other. What he had not expected – especially this early in the morning – was to enter his office and find both of them waiting for him – voluntarily!

"Professor!" Fred – or was it George? – leapt up, closely followed by his brother.

"Sorry to barge in-"

"-like this, but it's-"

"-about our brother-"

"-Ron."

Albus' head whipped from one side to the other. It was rather like watching a Muggle tennis match.

"We don't think-"

"-he wants to be-"

"-a Slytherin."

"Not really."

"He's too-"

"-normal."

Albus opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a furious Ron Weasley crashing into the room.

"I DEMAND A RE-SORT!"

A terrified Sorting Hat leapt back from Ron's glare in horror.

"What're you doing here?" asked one of the Weasley twins.

"What're you doing here?" snarled Ron, suddenly noticing their presence.

"But Ronnikins, how did you-"

"-get in? How do you-"

"-know the password?"

Ron glowered the two of them into submission, then turned round. Albus fought the urge to shrink back from the red-haired first year.

"Re-Sort me. Snape said you could."

"Professor Snape-"

"-said nothing of the kind," finished Severus, who had somehow slipped silently into the increasingly crowded office.

"Yes you did!" replied Ron, not even cowed by the tall, black-haired Professor now standing directly behind him. "You said I should-"

"-take your objections to the Headmaster. I see that you have done so."

Albus raised a finger. "If I may interrupt..."

Four heads turned towards him. "What?"

"Mr Weasley – Ron. I must apologise, but I cannot advocate a re-Sorting in anything other than exceptional circumstances."

Four voices immediately pointed out various exceptional circumstances.

"He doesn't want to be in Slytherin!"

"Ron just wants to be in Gryffindor – ask him!"

"I do not relish the prospect of a Weasley in Slytherin House."

"I had a cold!"

Albus hid a smile. "Ah. But, Mr Weasley, even if you were feeling out of Sorts," at which Severus and the Weasleys directed a concerted glare towards him and his terrible pun, "I do not believe that constitutes an exceptional circumstance. I am sorry."

But Severus, in one of his fits of temper, had grabbed the Sorting Hat and pressed it into Ron's hands. "Here, Sort yourself."

Ron put the Hat on. And took it off again, looking mournful. "Still Slytherin."

Albus gave them a sad and helpless smile. "Then it is out of my hands."

Ron turned to go-

-and walked straight into Percy Weasley.

The younger boy scowled. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here? Oh, never mind. Professor Dumbledore, I think the Sorting Hat must have made a mistake. Ron's too nice to be a Slytherin."

Fred and George appeared on either side of their older brother. "We've done that bit-"

"-already, Perce."

"Come on-"

"-let's go."

Mum,

I got Sorted.
I'm in Slytherin.

Ron.
P.S. Please don't send a Howler.

Ronald Weasley did not enjoy being a Slytherin. He had been brought up to know that Slytherins were evil Death-Eaters-to-be, so when Draco Malfoy tried to befriend – or at least talk to him, he was rebuffed very quickly. Theodore Nott received much the same reception as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise Zabini seemed to have decided the blood traitor wasn't worth the effort. The first year girls paid no attention to the boys, and wouldn't until at least their fourth year.

So Ron was very much alone in his House.

It didn't help that every other House seemed to believe that all Slytherins were evil and/or stupid. When Ron spoke to Ernie MacMillan, the Hufflepuff turned purple, squeaked, and ran away. When he sat beside Mandy Brocklehurst in Charms, the Ravenclaw took over and wouldn't let him get a word – or spell – in edgeways. When he asked Seamus Finnigan, a Gryffindor, for directions, the Irish boy refused to even look at Ron.

By day three, he was seriously miserable. He had taken to avoiding meals because he couldn't stand being expected to make conversation with the muggleborn-haters he had the misfortune to share a House with. He was moodily wandering the corridors, biding his time until his first class of the day when Fred and George appeared on either side of him, took an elbow each, and escorted him to the Great Hall – under duress, of course.

"Let me go! I don't need breakfast! I'm not hungry! Hey, let off! Leave me alone! Stop it! PERCY! HELP!"

But Percy, who had just walked past, ignored his younger brother's protests and sat down at the Gryffindor table, closely followed by Fred, George, and… Ron.

"What? I'm in Slytherin. What am I doing here?"

Fred and George grinned at each other over their brother's head.

"Well, Ronnikins-"

"-you didn't seem very happy-"

"-at your own House table-"

"-so we thought-"

"-seeing as we can't re-Sort you officially-"

"-we'd just escort you to our table-"

"-and you could eat with the Gryffindors."

"Family is more important than petty House loyalties," added Percy, with a touch of his usual pomposity.

Ron looked at Fred, George and Percy. "Thank you."

And he grinned, properly, for the first time since he had been Sorted.