Gryffindors are bright mornings, leaves dripping in gold. They’re the trailblazers, unafraid of the road ahead. They’re laughing so loud your stomach hurts, the knowledge that your friends are right behind you wherever you go. They’re ice skating with someone you love, clinging on to them for dear life. They’re make-believe games with quests and dragons and swords pointing at the sky. They’re rosy cheeks, winter winds and freezing hands. They’re the adrenaline when a plane takes off, the drop at the top of a rollercoaster. They’re delighted screams and freedom, the wind through your hair. They’re panting, pillow fights, feathers bursting into the air. They’re finger painting and festivals and burning sunsets. They’re the burn in your lung after chasing something you’ll never be able to catch.
Hufflepuffs are honey and flowers and the soft autumn sun. They’re knitted jumpers and scarves and soft tan boots. They’re fresh air and nature, the sound of birds singing. They’re rolling down a hill in the spring, grass stains on your knees, daisy chains in your hair. They’re waving at someone across a crowded room, bright smiles and laughter. They’re coming home after a long day and seeing your family. They’re playing fetch with your dog, your cat weaving between your feet. They’re fluffy socks and song birds and kraft notebooks with hand drawn patterns. They’re throw cushions on a bed, a tiny cottage surrounded by wilderness. They’re the ground beneath your feet, the air that you breathe. They’re the light you chase when you thought you’d never see the morning.
Ravenclaws are leather bound books and overstocked libraries. They’re waking up at two am to google that thing that’s bugging you. They’re journals with half the words crossed out, scribbles and ink stains and missing pages. They’re stretching when you’ve been hunched over all day, rolling off the edge of a bed, burrowing in blankets. They’re torch light and held breaths and reverent whispers. They’re the entire night sky and everything beyond it; the embodiment of the universe. They’re desperate searches and hidden castles and ghost stories by firelight. They’re the mystery of a dark corridor, the force of a whirlwind. They’re the excitement of discovery, the rustle of crunched up paper. They’re the last whisper before you fall asleep.
Slytherins are foggy hillsides and picturesque landscapes. They’re hand written love notes and subtle glances across a classroom. They’re black boots, long coats, buttons done up to the top. They’re tipping your head back to breathe the air, kicking up stones on a deserted path. They’re mirrored lakes, everything below the surface. They’re the confidence to get something right, the feel of magic in your fingertips. They’re holding your breath underwater, pretending to be a mermaid when you swim. They’re finding that one song that makes you want to create a storm. They’re the chill in the breeze, the force in the tide. They’re enchanted forests and lingering glances and long drives. They’re the lightning and the thunder and everything in between.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you’ve a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
Ugh I just…as much as I loved the video of Lin-Manuel and Emma Watson sorting Hamilton characters into Hogwarts Houses, I was hoping that we had maybe gotten to the point where we can stop automatically casting the protagonist in Gryffindor without any further discussion because seriously. Hamilton is a Slytherin.
Hamilton’s defining characteristic is his ambition, his burning desire to make a name for himself and to leave a legacy. It’s what motivates just about every decision he makes. That’s not a Gryffindor quality (I mean, I’m not saying that Gryffindors can’t be ambitious, any more than Slytherins can’t be brave – it’s just a much more defining characteristic of Slytherins [”And power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition”]). From the beginning, Hamilton is obsessed with making a name for himself and while that allows him to make some choices that seem brave or noble on their surface, they’re all with the goal of rising above his station (consider: anything in the Revolutionary War; the Reynolds Pamphlet; even his death).
In many ways, Burr, who I also consider a Slytherin, and Hamilton represent both ends of Slytherin spectrum – both would use any means to achieve their ends, though their means are quite opposite. And for both of them, ambition and pride is their downfall, though again, in different and contrasting ways.
And in the Harry Potter universe, it becomes clearer that Hamilton would be a Slytherin. Imagine little eleven-year-old bastard orphan (son of a whore and a Scotsman…) Hamilton rolling up to Hogwarts with no name, just the burning need to make a name for himself. And when he puts the Sorting Hat on his head and tells him, “A nice thirst to prove yourself…You could be great, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness”, how could Hamilton say anything but yes?
(And of course, imagine little Hamilton running up to the Slytherin prefect Aaron Burr, when first-years aren’t supposed to just talk to prefects, to ask him in that piping voice, “Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?”)
(And then also imagine Burr and Hamilton many years later, facing each other, wands raised, both prepared to do whatever it took – Hamilton aiming his wand at the sky, Burr firing the curse that would kill Hamilton and break him, in the end.)
I’d go on, including more from Hamilton’s actual life instead of just the show, but instead I’ll stop here and say TLDR – #yourfavoritesareslytherin2k16
I agree with this so hard.
slytherin pride (shout it from the rooftops)
life hack: be best friends with a slytherin. they will steal cupcakes for you from work and tell you to drop toxic people from your life with no reservations. they will be the ones ordering you to stop and breathe and call in sick, to screw your commitments if they see you’re sacrificing your mental health. they’re the ones to say “don’t you dare settle” and “you deserve better” in a ruthless, matter-of-fact tone. they’ll be the ones saying it’s okay to put yourself first, the voice you need to hear after a long day or week or month. trust me, be best friends with a slytherin.