Of all the ways Evelyn imagined she might die, "transmigrated into a video game" wasn't even on the list. Heart attack from too much caffeine and too little sleep during a 72-hour raid? Plausible. Choking on a gas station burrito because she forgot to eat actual food? Likely. But this… this was just weird.
One moment, she was in her cramped apartment, the glow of her triple-monitor setup reflecting in her glasses. The air was thick with the scent of lukewarm coffee and the triumphant, orchestral score of Witchcraft: Legacy of Hogwarts. Her fingers, a blur of motion across the keyboard, had just executed the final, ridiculously complex incantation to defeat the Abyssal Basilisk of Salazar Slytherin's Sub-Sub-Basement, the game's final, final hidden boss.
A brilliant, blinding white light flooded her screen, spilling out into the room, swallowing the piles of laundry and empty ramen cups. It wasn't the usual victory screen. It was too bright, too… absolute. Evelyn recoiled, throwing an arm over her eyes. The triumphant music warped, stretching into a high-pitched whine that vibrated through her bones. The floor vanished from beneath her gaming chair. It was a sensation of falling and being pulled apart all at once, a digital tide dragging her into an abyss of pure data.
The next moment, she was standing on solid ground, though "solid" felt like an understatement. The stones beneath her feet were ancient, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, and they felt more real than anything she had ever touched. The air, crisp and cool, carried the scent of damp earth, old parchment, and something else… something wild and electric. Magic.
Evelyn blinked. Her glasses were gone, yet her vision was sharper than it had ever been. She looked down at her hands. They were smaller, slenderer, and unblemished by the faint RSI calluses she'd been developing. Her oversized band t-shirt and yoga pants had been replaced by a simple, but immaculately clean, set of black robes.
Panic, cold and sharp, tried to claw its way up her throat, but it was immediately smothered by a strange, preternatural calm. A sense of deep, unshakable familiarity washed over her. She knew this place.
She was standing in a vast, cavernous chamber with a ceiling so high it was lost in shadow. Torches flickered in iron sconces, casting a warm, dancing light across the stone walls. Before her, a massive, wrought-iron gate stood slightly ajar, and beyond it, she could hear the low, rumbling murmur of hundreds of voices.
This is the Undercroft, she thought, the name surfacing in her mind with the same certainty as her own. The staging area for the Sorting Ceremony. Accessed only by first-year students arriving by boat.
It wasn't just a memory; it was a core piece of knowledge, as ingrained as knowing which button to press for a dodge-roll. In the game, this was where you customized your character's appearance before the opening cutscene. The sense of calm she felt wasn't her own; it was the game's baseline emotional state for a new character, the system booting up.
A portly man with a kind, wrinkled face and a truly spectacular handlebar mustache bustled past her, clapping his hands together. "Alright, firsties, settle down, settle down! The Headmaster's nearly ready for you. Now, get in a line, if you please! Names will be called in alphabetical order."
Evelyn's eyes widened. That was Professor Cuthbert Binns's great-great-grand-nephew, Phileas Binns, the game's Herbology professor. His character model was perfect, right down to the patch of dirt on his left cheek that never, ever went away.
Her head was a whirlwind of conflicting data. On one hand: thirty-year-old Evelyn, a woman with a dead-end data entry job, an apartment that smelled like a crypt, and a singular, all-consuming hobby. On the other hand… a vast, encyclopedic knowledge of this world. She knew the precise ingredients for every potion, the wand movement for every charm, the location of every secret passage in this castle. She knew the political landscape, the magical theory, the complete history of the Goblin Rebellions as detailed in the game's 500-volume codex.
She instinctively checked her peripherals. In the top left of her vision, a faint, translucent bar glowed with a golden light. Her HP. Full. Beneath it, a sapphire blue one. MP. Also full. In the bottom right, a minimalist compass and a quest log.
[Main Quest: The Sorting Ceremony] - Find your place at Hogwarts.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a hallucination. This was an isekai. A full-blown, no-holds-barred, "truck-kun got replaced by a monitor" isekai.
The panic tried to surface again, but it was beaten back by a surge of something else, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. Pure, unadulterated exhilaration.
She had spent years, years, of her life in this world. She'd memorized its code, exploited its glitches, and loved its lore more than she'd ever cared for the real world. The real world was bills, disappointments, and the crushing weight of unfulfilled potential. This world… this world was power, adventure, and endless possibility.
And she had arrived with the ultimate cheat sheet. She wasn't just a player anymore. She was Evelyn, the max-level muggle-born, and she was about to break this world in the most glorious way possible.
The great gates swung open, revealing the Great Hall. It was breathtaking. A thousand candles floated in mid-air over four long tables, packed with students in house colors. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the star-dusted night sky outside. It was exactly as she'd seen it on her monitor a thousand times, but infinitely more real. The scale, the sound, the sheer overwhelming magic of it all… it was enough to make her heart ache.
Professor Phileas led the trembling group of first-years to the front of the hall, where a simple wooden stool stood, a frayed and patched wizard's hat resting upon it. The Sorting Hat.
"Abbott, Hannah!"
A small, pink-cheeked girl stumbled forward and placed the hat on her head. A moment later, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"
The table on the right erupted in cheers. Evelyn watched, a slow smile spreading across her face. This was it. This was the character creation screen, and she was about to make her choice. But it wasn't a choice between four houses. It was a choice of how she would play the game.
Her name wasn't on the list, of course. She was an anomaly, an unregistered player. She waited as the names were called, her mind racing, processing her situation with the speed of a high-end GPU.
Okay, Evelyn. Analysis. You're a muggle-born, physically about eleven. You have no family, no history in this world. But you have maxed-out knowledge stats. You know spells that haven't been invented yet. You know the weaknesses of every creature, the loopholes in every magical law.
You are, for all intents and purposes, a magical demigod in the body of a first-year.
Finally, a professor she recognized as a young Minerva McGonagall looked up from the scroll. "That's everyone, Headmaster."
The Headmaster, a wizard with a long silver beard she instantly recognized as a younger, less-twinkly Albus Dumbledore from the game's "Founder's Era" expansion pack, looked down at the remaining, solitary girl.
"It seems we have one more," he said, his voice calm and resonant. "Step forward, my dear. What is your name?"
Evelyn walked to the stool, her steps sure and steady. The entire hall was silent, their eyes fixed on the girl who wasn't on the scroll. She met Dumbledore's gaze, those famously piercing blue eyes, and felt no fear. She'd faced down his digital avatar in a duel that lasted six hours.
"My name is Evelyn," she said, her voice clear and ringing with a confidence she'd never possessed in her previous life. "Just Evelyn."
She sat on the stool and placed the ancient, sentient hat on her head. It slumped over her eyes, plunging her into darkness.
A voice, not in her ears, but in her mind, spoke. "Well now… this is unexpected. I've sorted thousands of minds, but I've never seen one quite like yours. So much knowledge… so much power… already perfected. A mind brimming with cunning that would make Salazar himself proud. A thirst for knowledge that rivals Rowena's. A heart of immense, if untested, courage. And a loyalty… though to what, I cannot say."
"You could walk any path. You could achieve greatness in any house. So tell me, Evelyn-who-is-more-than-she-seems… where shall I put you?"
Evelyn didn't hesitate. She knew the game. She knew the optimal starting zone. She knew which house offered the best resources, the most influential connections, and the fewest restrictions for someone who planned to bend the rules until they snapped.
Slytherin, she thought, her intention as sharp as a blade. I have work to do.
The hat was silent for a long moment. Then, to the shocked and silent Great Hall, it bellowed a single word that would change the course of history.
"SLYTHERIN!"