The Sorting Ceremony

The little boats carried the new students across the shimmering Black Lake beneath the moonlight. Hogwarts Castle grew larger before them until they finally docked at what looked like an underground pier. Everyone climbed a flight of stone steps and gathered before the castle's enormous oak doors.

The doors stood open, and Professor McGonagall, stern-faced and dressed in emerald-green robes, stood at the entrance. Her sharp gaze swept over the anxious new students.

When Silas saw her, he naturally raised a hand in greeting and said casually, "Hi, Professor McGonagall!"

Professor McGonagall's gaze lingered on him for a moment, her eyes complicated with a mixture of You again, Don't cause trouble, and I hope you follow the rules. Yet her expression remained stern. She did not return Silas's greeting, instead turning to Hagrid and saying businesslike, "Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here."

Hagrid gave a good-natured smile, waved to the new students, and turned to leave.

Professor McGonagall led the new students into the entrance hall. The marble floor, soaring ceiling, and torches blazing on the walls left them all amazed. She briefly introduced the four Houses, emphasized the importance of House points, and informed them that the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin.

Next, everyone lined up and entered the magnificent Great Hall. Thousands of candles floated overhead, illuminating four long House tables and the staff table. The star-filled enchanted ceiling was breathtaking. Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool before the new students, with a battered, patched pointed wizard's hat on top—the Sorting Hat.

The Great Hall fell silent. Then a tear along the brim of the hat opened like a mouth, and it began to sing. Its song... well, it was full of "personality." The tune was strange, and the lyrics mostly boasted about its own wisdom and its achievements in Sorting students.

Standing in line, Silas listened to that "wonderful" song and could not help quietly complaining to Hermione beside him, "That's awful... Has this hat not been tuned in centuries?"

Hermione was too nervous to pay attention to his complaint and merely clenched her fists tightly.

Silas glanced at the parchment list in Professor McGonagall's hand and suddenly noticed something. He lightly nudged Hermione with his elbow. "Funny how that worked out. You're G, Granger, and I'm J, Jyril. You're right before me."

Hermione froze for a moment, then realized that the list was arranged alphabetically by surname. Granger really did come before Jyril. She nodded, too nervous to speak.

Silas, meanwhile, began considering which House he should join. He muttered under his breath, "Hmm... I want to go to Hufflepuff..."

Hearing him, Hermione temporarily broke free of her nerves and asked in confusion, "Hufflepuff? That House... Isn't it known for being mediocre? I heard they value hard work and loyalty more..."

Silas glanced at her and said in a tone that seemed to say You're too young, "Who told you that? Prejudice! Newt Scamander, the famous magizoologist who wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, graduated from Hufflepuff! Mediocre? He saved New York!"

He paused, then stated the truest—and most in-character—reason. "But the main reason I want to go there... is because their common room and dormitories are close to the kitchens. It'll be convenient to find food when I get hungry in the middle of the night."

Hermione: "..." Once again, she found herself defeated by Silas's logic.

Then Professor McGonagall began calling students up for Sorting.

"Hannah Abbott." "Hufflepuff!"

"Susan Bones." "Hufflepuff!"

"Terry Boot." "Ravenclaw!"

"Mandy Brocklehurst." "Ravenclaw!"

"Lavender Brown." "Gryffindor!"

"Millicent Bagnold." "Slytherin!"

More than ten minutes passed.

Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the Great Hall as she called the next name:

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione took a deep breath and nervously walked forward. The Sorting Hat's adventure officially began for her. Silas watched with great interest, ready to see how this old hat would judge an "unofficial student" like him.

Hermione nervously sat on the four-legged stool as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The hat had barely touched her thick hair before it shrieked, "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in warm applause and cheers. Hermione, her face flushed red, ran toward the red-and-gold table, both excited and relieved. Percy Weasley proudly stood up to shake her hand.

Professor McGonagall looked at the list and read the next name. Her voice remained steady, though it seemed to carry the faintest, almost imperceptible pause. "Silas Cyril."

Everyone's eyes turned toward him. Many older students, especially those from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, were no strangers to that name or to the figure in the distinctive dark-blue robes and red cloak. Over the past four years, he had been a "legendary unofficial member" of the castle.

Silas did not obediently walk over like the other new students. A mischievous smile curled across his lips as, under everyone's watchful eyes, he raised both hands and elegantly traced a perfect circle before himself!

Crack—

Golden sparks burst forth, and a stable portal instantly unfolded beneath his feet. He stepped inside and vanished. The next second, another portal opened beside the four-legged stool. Silas calmly walked out as though he had risen from the ground, even symbolically brushing nonexistent dust from his robes.

The entire Great Hall instantly fell silent, save for the sounds of sharp inhales. Even the professors at the staff table looked surprised—except Dumbledore, who was smiling as he stroked his beard. The new students were utterly dumbfounded.

Ignoring every gaze upon him, Silas casually picked up the battered Sorting Hat as if it were his own and placed it on his head.

The hat was enormous, nearly covering his eyes. In his mind, he said to it, Hat bro, can we talk? I want to go to Hufflepuff. It's close to the kitchens, the food is good, and the atmosphere is relaxed. Perfect for a lazy person like me.

The Sorting Hat wriggled on his head, and a faint voice sounded directly in his mind, sly and teasing. Oh my! Kid, that Space magic of yours is really something! Those four years weren't wasted, huh? Since you called me bro, what more is there to say? Just for that, I'll definitely put you in the House that suits you best. I absolutely can't be careless about this!

A sense of foreboding rose in Silas's heart. Wait, suits me best? I said Hufflepuff...

The Sorting Hat interrupted him, its voice full of certainty that said I'm doing this for your own good. Hufflepuff? No, no, no! Loyalty and kindness are fine qualities, of course, but at your core, you thirst for knowledge! You have an immense desire to explore unknown realms of magic! You possess wisdom that goes beyond convention! The vast, extraordinary magical knowledge within you, your drive to study magic—even if it shows itself through laziness and complaining! Ravenclaw! Without a doubt, you belong in Ravenclaw! That is where your wisdom belongs!

Silas: ...You @#￥%...

He nearly blurted out a curse, but forcibly held it back, only roaring in his mind, You old hat, you have no sense of fair play! I said I wanted Hufflepuff!

The Sorting Hat ignored his protest and, with all its strength—or rather, with great enthusiasm—shouted its decision to the entire Great Hall:

"Ravenclaw!"

"Oh, for..." Silas cursed, helplessly removed the hat, and heavily set it back on the stool. His face was filled with the frustration of a plan gone wrong.

In stark contrast to his frustration, Ravenclaw's blue-and-bronze table erupted with unprecedented thunderous applause and cheers! Many older Ravenclaw students—those who had become familiar with Silas over the past four years, or had heard of his "exploits," such as sneaking around at night, practicing magic, and all sorts of strange antics—rose to their feet and enthusiastically welcomed this junior, this unofficial big shot they had long regarded as one of their own, into their House.

Silas looked at that warmly welcoming table, then glanced at Dumbledore's all-knowing smile at the staff table and Professor McGonagall's expression beside him, a mixture of helplessness and Just accept your fate. In the end, he could only sigh and drag his feet toward the Ravenclaw table.

Well, there went his kitchen dream. From now on, if he wanted a midnight snack, he would have to open a portal. That Sorting Hat had definitely done it on purpose!