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Tommy knew how seriously his family took media and tv show debates. Some of his earliest movie night memories were watching the end credits of Beauty and The Beast, Technoblade screaming at Wilbur across the kitchen about ‘stockholm syndrome’. Tommy’s eyes stayed glued to the screen, trying to ignore how they hissed at each other. His father opened his mouth, Tommy thought he’d tell them off, but instead he talked about how Gaston was a complex character that had to be acknowledged and how he was technically morally right.
So yes, they took movies and tv shows kinda seriously. They bought the merch, hung up the posters and were on the forums. Tommy was never the type to be emotionally invested when it came to what characters would end up with who, he was more the enjoyer of the soundtracks and bright colors. He lived for entertainment value.
When he came home from school to his two brothers and his father sitting at the dining table, expression morphed into one that spoke of disaster, he was more than worried. He threw his bag on the ground, sliding into a chair and whipping his head around the table in worry. “What’s wrong!? What happened!? Is everything ok?”
A laptop laid in Wilbur’s lap, his lip quivering. “Tommy… What Pottermore Hogwarts house are you in?”
Tommy went still. What? Tommy gazed at him incredulously, trying to pick up any hint of a prank. There was no facade slip though, no smirk or laughter coming from his other family members, just silence that was enough to fill the room thick. Tommy shrugged. “Uh. I don’t know what Pottermore is.”
Philza rubbed his temples, letting out a heavy sigh. “We forgot to test Tommy’s Hogwarts house when he was younger. We broke the family tradition.”
Technoblade immediately rushed to his side, hushing the man and rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s ok, dad. We can still check.”
Wilbur slammed his laptop onto the desk, all attention going back on him. “Don’t touch Phil, you dirty Slytherin.”
“Excuse me?!” Technoblade roared, clenching his fists until his knuckles went pale. “It’s not like the Gryffindor can say anything. Reckless, brash-”
“I’m a Gryffindor, Technoblade.” Philza muttered, glaring at his son. Tommy could tell it wasn’t serious, it was more a tease, but he still sat with widened eyes as he watched the table argue over something so utterly meaningless . “Are you calling me reckless?”
“No, father.” Technoblade whispered. Wilbur rotated his computer to face Tommy, a quiz screen up on the page.
“I made you an account, it’s time to get you sorted.” Wilbur shot him a soft smile, Tommy blinking at the man in confuzzlement. Huh?
Tommy didn’t question it, sliding the computer closer to him before pressing start on the quiz. Tommy had to admit, the visuals were nice. Tommy wasn’t the biggest Harry Potter fan, so he just clicked on the options that he thought fit him the most. A lot of them were obvious, a few of them he had to put time into. As much as Tommy didn’t want to admit it, doing the quiz was fun. Figuring out what to answer and watching the visuals pop up in the background.
Whenever Tommy glanced away from the screen for a split second, though, he was reminded how seriously the other men were taking this. Philza and Wilbur were leaning forward in their seats while Technoblade had gone and leaned up against the kitchen counter. Tommy gulped, drawing his attention to the laptop once more.
Finally, the results came in, and Tommy pursed his lips. He shut the laptop with shaky hands, why was he shaking? The others were watching him expectantly. Tommy’s heart beat through his ears, veins pulsing as the one word filled his mind. He took a trembling breath in before fixating on the wood of the table. He couldn’t look his family in the eyes for this.
“Slytherin.”
All hell broke loose.
Wilbur fell back in his chair, audibly gasping before turning to Phil. He said something about Technoblade bribing Tommy, about how it had to be rigged, about how Tommy just screamed Gryffindor. Philza seemed to be in another world, trying to process the information presented. Technoblade had the most expressive reaction, which was surprising given how deadpan the man usually was, he whooped in victory.
“SUCK THAT WILBUR!” Technoblade yelled. “He’s a snake, like me!”
“It’s impossible! He has to retake it!” Wilbur cried out. “He has to!”
“You cannot just simply re-take the Pottermore test! It does not lie! You’re so deep in denial you’re doubting the sacred texts!” Technoblade ranted, victory grin still planted on his face. “Your denial screams lion!”
Safe to say, Tommy had no idea what the fuck any of that meant. Wilbur and Technoblade bickered like they always do, something about the snakes and the lions eternal rivalry, how this just couldn’t be. Tommy was starting to get a headache, he didn’t know why they were making such a big deal out of this stupid quiz.
“Enough, boys.” Said Phil, standing up from the chair. “Enough. Tommy is a Slytherin, that’s final. The quiz does not simply re-sort, Wilbur.”
Wilbur made a string of indiscernible sounds and mutters, pain clear in his tone. Technoblade crossed his arms, walking over to Tommy and placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. “He’s coming with me, then.”
What the fuck was happening now?
Philza’s expression resembled one of a man in the final frame of a movie watching the world end, wistful and woe filled. “Take care of him, Technoblade. Take care of him like we thought we would.” He asked coldly, pleading with his son to take care of the house's new Slytherin.
Technoblade ruffled Tommy’s hair. “Let’s go upstairs, shall we?”
Tommy nodded. He wasn’t going to fight back with Technoblade, Tommy had no idea what was going on and despite his love for arguing he didn’t think it’d help him get the info he needed. He followed Technoblade up the stairs, Techno shoving him into his room before glancing around the hallway and slamming the door shut.
Technoblade’s room was spacey, a TV hung on the wall and a nest of blankets on his double bed. He had bookshelves, Harry Potter posters and even some Star Wars merch scattered around, making the room feel more homely than before. Technoblade sat on the bed with Tommy before grabbing the remote to the TV and flicking through their streaming service.
He was typing Harry Potter in the search bar.
“I literally have no idea what’s going on, what is happening.” Asked Tommy.
Technoblade cackled like a maniacal villain, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, Tommy. We’re going to binge the entire Harry Potter series, listen to all the audio books, read the Slytherin fanfictions and watch the interviews in one night.”
“That’s impossible.” Tommy breathed out.
“Anything is possible when you’re a Slytherin.”
What had he gotten into?