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Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor!

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Draco Malfoy had always lied to his posse. So much so, he ended up lying to himself as well. Why did he hate Muggle-borns and Half-bloods so much? Why did he hate the other Hogwarts houses so much? Why did he even hate Potter so much?

When he was 11 years old, he didn’t know the answer. For as long as he could remember, he was told what he could do, who he could be, the rules he had to live by, the people he had to meet and those he had to keep around. All this came from his parents but also from the Dark Lord. But, when he arrived at Hogwarts there was a boy with brown hair and glasses that intrigued him. Then, there was a girl with frizzy hair and a tall gangly ginger. And he felt something strange seeing them, a mix of admiration and jealousy. At the start, he pushed this feeling right down, deep inside himself. But with distance and time, he ended up reflecting. And in the end he realised.

Since his birth, he’d only known the Wizarding World, which he lived in. Even so, the little that he knew of the Muggle World, interested him a lot more than he would have imagined. It was quite simply fascinating to see other human beings, free of magic, manage to live almost perfectly. After all, they didn't have much to work with. But, even totally vulnerable as they were without any magic powers, they succeeded in overcoming this deficit (and it was a deficit in the eyes of Draco) by being ingenious.  They invented a tonne of things. For example, electricity (a word Draco had a lot of trouble pronouncing at the start). As time went by, the youngest Malfoy became more and more interested by this very particular world. But no-one could ever find out. Certainly not Potter, Granger or Weasley, who came from the Muggle World, or families who were very open minded about it. How could he, Draco Malfoy, show it interested him anyway? Between a psychopath who'd like to conquer the world and a father who followed that psycho, there was no easy option. Still, he suspected his mother knew what he really truly thought.

One day, the war came to a close. With his father free from the influence of the crazy psycho and he himself an legal adult, he could finally confess to the whole world, or almost, his dream: to live among non-magic folk. Even if at the start his father almost had an aneurysm, he ended up accepting it (as if it made a difference anyway) and his mother encouraged him to do it. When he moved to the heart of London, Draco was shocked to see Muggles knew all about wizarding history. A certain former journalist of the Daily Prophet (maybe a friend of Rita Skeeter?) had gathered all the information she’d need to write seven books about the life of Harry Potter and get rich off of him. Out of curiosity, Draco read the books and was scandalised to see just how pro-Gryffindor the author was, and that she continually defamed him and the other Slytherins. It was safe to say, he was very disappointed. No-one would truly know him. What's more, the fact Muggles now had “knowledge” of the Wizarding World meant he was forced to change his name. Since then, he had to go by Draco Smith. Not very original, but what can you do? He never had a impressive imagination.

And that's how, at the age of 24, he found himself in front of his computer with a little problem. Since he'd started living among Muggles, he had kept perfectly up to date with all the news about the Harry Potter books (which certainly had to be an ego boost for Potter) and in the past couple weeks, a website had been taunting him. This site, called Pottermore, intrigued him to no end. Draco knew that through the site he could “make” potions, duel or win or lose his house points. But there was the problem. There was a test to sort him into one of the four houses. And he was scared.

He started asking himself questions like why was he originally put in Slytherin? Was it really the house he belonged in, or was he just obliged to be in it to make his parents, and everyone else happy. He was dying to do the test to find out which house he was meant to be in, but at the same timed, he hoped that he was truly a serpent. But… what if he was sorted into another house? What if he was put in Gryffindor? What if his was really meant to be in Gryffindor? That would unbearable! Scandalous! Horrible! Unimaginable!

Breathing deeply, Draco shook his head.       

“No, no, no,” he muttered to himself. “Don't be stupid. Of course it's going to say Slytherin is your real house. You're worrying about nothing, you idiot.”

Finally, he couldn't doubt himself any more, and he signed up to the site. There couldn't be anything in the world more haunting than the question, “Who are you really?” that, for years, had been eating away at him right to his very core.

When he clicked on “Start”, his heart was leaping in his chest. To begin with, he had to head to Gringotts to get some money. But when he realised he only had 500 Galleons…

“500 Galleons! What a disgrace! This is an absolute disgrace! Do Muggles even know what 1 Galleons is worth? They'll ruin me!  A Malfoy had never been this poor before!

And he kept muttering to himself until he realised that, in the end, it was just a game on the internet. So the Galleons, or lack thereof, didn't mean anything.

“But, even so…!”        

Next, he had to choose a pet (he thought it was unfair he had so little choice of animal) and a wand (nothing would ever match his real wand of course). And finally, he'd reached the Sorting Ceremony. His heart was beating so fast he was scared it'd beat right out of his chest.

“Not Gryffindor, for the love of Merlin.”

He started the quiz.        

“Four goblets are placed before you. Which would you choose to drink?“

First of all, what made this site think they were friends having a good old chat? After copiously insulting his computer, Draco reflected for several seconds before choosing the goblet filled with a silver liquid, while asking himself what the difference would be if he'd chosen another liquid. How could such little choices change the Sorting Hat’s decision? He decided not to think about it too much. He already didn't understand much of what was going on.

“What are you most looking forward to learning at Hogwarts?”       

“Potions, obviously!” he responded as he clicked on the answer.

Potions was always his favourite class at Hogwarts. And it was safe to say he hadn't enjoyed a lot of things.

“What would you do if you came face to face with a giant?”

He clicked on “Run away”.

There was several other questions before he came across even more bizarre ones. “Moon or Stars?” “Black or White?” Then, when he'd clicked on his last answer, he closed his eyes, regretting already his decision to do the test. As his laptop’s volume was turned on, he heard applause and children shouting “Yay!”.        

“Are they making mocking me? Or did I really end up in Slytherin?” he pondered.  

“Not Gryffindor, not Gryffindor!” he chanted near-hysterically.  

He keep repeating it to himself as he slowly opened his eyes, terrified of what he'd find on his screen. And just before he saw his result, he murmured, “Oh my god, I'd never even considered there being a worse choice than Gryffindor!”

He started almost hoping the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes, his whole world collapsed. He hadn't been sorted into Slytherin. Or even Gryffindor for that matter. He would have really liked to be put in Gryffindor in the end.

A lump formed in his throat and he started to ask himself if he'd have to tell his whole family the news. After all, it was just a game right? It wasn’t real. He was truly meant to a Slytherin, right?

Yet in that moment, all he could do was bang his head several times against the table his laptop was sitting on. Meanwhile, his computer screen had filled with splendid colours, black and yellow, and written across it in large letters was the words “Hufflepuff”.

Our condolences Draco Malfoy.