---
Chapter 45: The Serpent's Choice
Darren noticed that Harry had been under the Sorting Hat for quite some time.
The teachers' faces showed growing tension — except for Dumbledore, who simply smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, as if he already knew how it would end.
Finally, after a long silence, the Hat shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
The Great Hall erupted.
"We've got Potter!"
"Harry Potter in Gryffindor!"
"Brilliant!"
The Gryffindor table went wild, cheering and clapping until even Professor McGonagall had to fight to keep order. She tried to look stern, but her smile betrayed her.
When the noise finally settled, she glanced back at her list.
"Darren Potter!"
The entire hall froze.
"Potter?"
"Another one?"
"Harry Potter's brother?"
"Why haven't we heard of him before?"
Dozens of whispers rippled through the room.
Darren hadn't expected to be the center of attention. His cheeks turned pink — a mix of stage fright and well-practiced innocence.
Professor McGonagall placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Go on, boy. Don't be afraid."
"Thank you, Professor," Darren said earnestly, voice soft but steady.
Her expression warmed. "A polite young man. Go on, then."
Darren walked carefully to the stool, picked up the old, tattered hat with both hands, and placed it gently on his head.
The Sorting Hat chuckled.
> "Well, aren't you a thoughtful one? No one's ever been this polite to a hat."
Darren smiled shyly.
> [Ding — Detecting mental connection. Mimic memory?]
[Confirmed. Masked transmission active.]
He was ready for it. He knew the Hat would read his memories — and possibly, Dumbledore might even peek in through it.
Then the images began to flow.
The boy smiling as he received his Hogwarts letter.
The boy standing between Muggles and bullies.
The boy declaring that every life was equal.
The boy shielding a girl who had just argued with him.
The boy gently comforting a red-haired child with sweets.
The boy helping a lost student find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
The boy looking proudly at his brother being Sorted.
The Hat's voice turned wistful.
> "Ah… I don't enjoy seeing memories like these. They make me feel—"
It paused.
"—uncomfortably human. And I'm only a hat."
It went silent for a moment, then murmured thoughtfully:
> "You'd do well in Ravenclaw — curious mind, bright thoughts.
You'd be cherished in Hufflepuff — loyalty runs deep in you.
You long to be near your brother… hmm, perhaps Slytherin? Ambitious folk, but maybe you'd bring light there.
And yes, their classes often run beside Gryffindor's."
The Hat chuckled again.
> "But no, no Gryffindor for you. You're brave, yes — too brave.
I've seen you stand between danger and others too many times.
If I sent you to Gryffindor, you'd throw yourself in front of a Killing Curse before year's end.
> Slytherin will temper you. Teach you caution.
And between us… I'd rather see that kindness survive a little longer."
Darren felt the Hat twist slightly, like it was nodding.
> "You're a good one, little fellow. Come visit me sometimes — I live in Dumbledore's office. We can chat."
Then it shouted aloud for all to hear:
"SLYTHERIN!"
The Great Hall froze.
Darren blinked in mock shock — but the silence wasn't for show.
Harry Potter's brother… sorted into Slytherin.
Ron Weasley's voice broke through the whispers.
"I knew it! Anyone who hangs around that Greengrass girl couldn't be good!"
Gasps followed. Darren's face drained of color. His eyes flicked to Harry instinctively, searching for reassurance.
But Harry… couldn't meet his gaze.
He was still frozen, struggling to make sense of it. The boy from the train — the kind one who helped him, who'd seemed so decent — his brother?
And yet… Slytherin?
The House Voldemort had come from?
And that girl, Betsy Greengrass — Harry had seen her blow up a werewolf. People whispered she'd even killed before.
Harry shifted uneasily, guilt twisting in his chest, but confusion louder still. He lowered his eyes.
Darren's hopeful smile faded. His lips pressed tight as he stepped off the stool and walked toward the Slytherin table.
The hall remained silent. Even Slytherin didn't cheer — they just watched him in disbelief.
Betsy Greengrass sat rigid at the far end, eyes wide.
He's a Potter?
For a moment, she wanted to march up there and demand an explanation. But when she saw his defeated little face, she stopped.
Her jaw tightened. She turned her glare instead on the rest of Slytherin.
Anyone who dared mock him would regret it.
Maybe he was foolish. Maybe he didn't understand how dangerous this house could be.
But no one — no one — would touch him while she was here.
She folded her arms, her emerald eyes cold.
The stupid cub… joining Slytherin.
Did he really think that little lion brother of his would still look at him the same way now?
---
--
---
---
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Like it ? Add to library!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!