Romeo and Juliet was written some 400 years before anyone knew what a Hufflepuff was. But does this mean we SHOULDN’T be taking the Sorting Hat to all these Elizabethan teens (and twenty-somethings) who died extremely preventable deaths? No. No it does not.
Romeo: Gryffindor Like most Gryffindors, Romeo doesn’t possess one single molecule of chill, not in the whole of his chill-deficient body. Case in point: the guy is a hopeless romantic who threatens to die for love not just once but TWICE in the same twenty-four-hour period. Furthermore, he is loyal to a fault and has never looked before leaping even once in his entire life. He’s a Gryffindor. End of story.
Juliet: Ravenclaw “Romeo” may be synonymous with “lover,” but it’s Juliet who’s the brains behind the whole operation. She’s the one who proposes the idea of marriage in the first place, and her lines are some of the most passionate as well as the most complex.
Tybalt: Slytherin I hate to paint all antagonists with the same green-and-silver brush, but Tybalt is unequivocally a Slytherin. Point the first: he spends the whole play running into situations sword-first to protect his family’s honor. Point the second: Mercutio calls him the “Prince of Cats,” which, I don’t know, that just feels like a super Slytherin thing to be called, don’t you think?
Paris: Gryffindor Paris has a full heart and no situational awareness. Gryffindor. Next.
Mercutio: Ravenclaw I struggled with this one. I really did. But at the end of the day, Mercutio is a silver-tongued, whip-smart sex fiend who would be better off if he were half as good at dueling as he is at making puns. He even dies making a pun (which is exactly how I hope I go out). Is there anything more Ravenclaw than that?
Benvolio: Hufflepuff Benvolio is like a puppy who has never done anything wrong and just wants everyone to have a good time. He spends most of his time playing peacemaker. Spoiler alert: he sucks at it, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t try.)
Friar Laurence: Slytherin Friar Laurence may SEEM like your garden-variety, run-of-the-mill moron with good intentions whose “just fake your death and hope for the best!” plan went horribly awry. But secretly I think Friar Laurence masterminded this whole disaster. What did he want? To end the feud. AND HE GOT WHAT HE WANTED. You think this man—this Machiavellian chessmaster, always two moves ahead of everyone else—was surprised to find himself in that crypt surrounded by dead bodies, a necessary sacrifice in the name of peace in Verona? You are a fool. We all were. He was exactly where he wanted to be.