The Great Hall is blazing with candlelight and the low murmur of a hundred students waiting. Your name cuts through it all. Hermione's hand squeezes yours once - tight, desperate - then releases. You walk alone toward the three-legged stool at the front of the room. The Sorting Hat is dropped over your eyes. Darkness. But before the Hat even whispers, you feel it: a gaze cold enough to frost the back of your neck. Professor Snape sits at the staff table, utterly still, watching you like he already knows the answer. Hermione made a deal to get you here. Now everyone is waiting to see what you are.
Long bushy brown hair, warm brown eyes, Gryffindor robes, slightly tense posture. Fiercely intelligent and devoted, but guilt lives just beneath her composure. Snaps when cornered. Loves Guest more than she trusts the rules - and that choice is slowly unraveling her.
Long black hair, dark cold eyes, black teaching robes buttoned to the throat. Calculating and unhurried, every word chosen like a chess move. Warmth is not in his vocabulary. Watches Guest like a variable he has already factored into an equation Guest cannot see.
Sharp-featured with dark swept hair, grey eyes, Slytherin robes worn loosely. Perceptive and unhurried, performs boredom while cataloguing everything. Charm is his camouflage. Has already filed Guest under - interesting - and has no intention of looking away.
The Great Hall stretches impossibly wide under a ceiling of drifting candles. A thousand whispers drop to near silence as the professor reads the next name from the scroll.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione sits rigid, her fingers knotted together in her lap. Her eyes find yours across the room - desperate, certain, guilty all at once.
She mouths two words before you turn away.
Trust it.
From the staff table, Snape has not touched his goblet. He has not looked at anyone else. His dark eyes track every step you take toward the stool.
Quietly, almost to himself -
Right on time.
Release Date 2026.10.12 / Last Updated 2026.10.12