Where Dreams Began at the Sorting Ceremony

Following Professor McGonagall into a small empty room, all the First Years crowded shoulder to shoulder, nervously staring at everything around them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Professor McGonagall introduced Hogwarts in a gentle voice—the four Houses, the House Cup.

Light shone from the eyes of every young wizard. For some of them, the world changed from this moment on.

"...I hope that no matter which House you are sorted into, you will bring honor to it."

"In a few minutes, the Sorting Ceremony will take place before the entire school. While you wait, I suggest you straighten yourselves up and remain quiet. I'll come back for you shortly." With that, Professor McGonagall left the room.

Before long, the young wizards began talking among themselves.

Harry asked Ron and Neville, who came from wizarding families, "How can they know exactly which House to put us in?"

Hermione perked up her ears beside them, waiting for an answer as well.

"I think it's some kind of test. Fred said it would hurt us badly, but I think he was joking."

Harry and Hermione shuddered again, panic spreading through them.

"Reparo..." Hermione began muttering the spells she knew again.

Loren worried whether the Sorting Hat would see memories of his previous life, whether he would be treated as an evil Dark wizard. Surely no one got sorted into Azkaban on their first day at Hogwarts, right?

He had not considered that before. He had believed Dumbledore and Snape would not go poking through the minds of first-year students. But he had forgotten about the Sorting Hat.

A group of ghosts came through the back wall and began chatting with the First Years, comforting them and introducing their respective Houses. But they would not reveal the exact process, leaving Hermione frantic with impatience.

Not long after, Professor McGonagall returned and directed the students to form a single line before leading them through the Entrance Hall into the magnificent dining hall.

Magic in the vaulted ceiling had brought the Starry Sky of the night into the Great Hall. Students from the four Houses sat around four long tables in the center, their tables covered with gleaming golden plates and goblets. The professors' table stood on the raised platform at the front.

Everyone watched this group of First Years.

Professor McGonagall placed a Four-legged Stool at the front, with a battered Pointed Wizard Hat on top.

The First Years watched wide-eyed as the hat split open like a mouth and began to sing:

...Try me on, and I will tell you,

Which House you ought to join.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where courage dwells within,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where folk are just and loyal,

Hufflepuff students are patient and true,

And unafraid of toil;

If you possess a clever mind,

Perhaps old Ravenclaw will claim you,

Where those of wit and learning

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps you'll go to Slytherin,

Perhaps you'll find true friends there,

But those cunning, sly folk will stop at nothing

To achieve their ends.

So come and wear me! Do not fear!

Don't lose your head!...

Once the song ended, the First Years understood the Sorting process and relaxed.

Except Ron, who had been frightened half to death by Fred's countless horror stories. He shouted that he was going to wring Fred's neck.

The Sorting officially began. Professor McGonagall started calling names. "Hannah Abbott!"

Loren finally saw the leader of the Hogwarts First Years. The little girl had two golden braids and stumbled her way forward, sat down, and put on the hat.

"Hufflepuff!"

The young wizards at the Hufflepuff table burst into enthusiastic applause. Pure-blood or half-blood, they welcomed everyone.

When Hermione's name was called, the little girl hurried forward. Before she had even put the hat on properly, the Sorting Hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, calming her heartbeat and breathing, then began staring at Loren. In an unfamiliar place, people always wanted to stay close to someone they knew.

"Loren Morgan."

It was finally his turn. Loren worried about his little secret, and his heart began racing uncontrollably.

"Oh, what a strange boy. There's a fog in your mind. You don't look very clever," the Sorting Hat said softly.

Though Loren felt personally attacked, he also breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though the Sorting Hat could not see his previous memories.

"Hufflepuff would be a good choice," the Sorting Hat continued. Great, now the collateral damage had reached the little badgers.

Loren relaxed, and his thoughts could not help wandering. As long as it's not Azkaban.

"What exactly is in that head of yours? Why would it be Azkaban?" the Sorting Hat asked aloud.

Loren trembled but did not answer.

"All right, all right, then—" the Sorting Hat drew out the final word.

"Gryffindor!"

Finding an empty seat at the Gryffindor table, Loren's heart and backside settled down together.

By the end of the Sorting, the young wizards below were all more or less studying the professors on the platform.

The most eye-catching was Albus Dumbledore, his silver hair gleaming. He looked very old, but full of spirit.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you all!"

Dumbledore stood up and said only a few words, yet he immediately seemed a little out of his mind.

But after Percy explained that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world, those words somehow seemed deeply meaningful.

Food kept appearing on the plates: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, Lamb Chop, carrots, and the Potato All-You-Can-Eat Loren remembered so vividly.

The feast reached a fever pitch, and the First Years chatted merrily with the ghosts.

One ghost called himself Sir Nicholas of the Mimbles and seemed reluctant to talk about his head. But under everyone's expectant gazes, he finally let it wobble and slide down from his neck.

Loren feasted his eyes on the sight and said to him with some regret, "If you had lived long enough for Louis XVI to improve the guillotine, you wouldn't have had this problem."

He then began discussing Louis XVI and his guillotine with Sir Nicholas. By the end, Sir Nicholas paid Louis XVI the highest respect.

After the main course came all kinds of desserts. Loren took several flavors of pudding and savored them spoonful by spoonful, even hiding one away for a midnight snack.

The conversation turned to their families.

Ron and Neville were both pure-blood wizards, but families like theirs were still a minority. More were half-bloods like Seamus, while the rest were lucky young wizards from Muggle families, like Hermione and Loren.

Amid the laughter, Loren saw black shadows flash simultaneously across Professor Snape's arm and Harry's scar, especially glaring beneath the soft light of the hall.

The shadows quickly faded, but the turban around Professor Quirrell's head began glowing black again, and this time it lasted for quite a while.

Prefect Percy introduced everyone one by one. The man in purple was Professor Quirrell, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. The man in black robes with the hooked nose was Professor Snape, the Potions Master, who was highly skilled in the Dark Arts.

Harry silently remembered that professor.

In the distance, Professor Snape had noticed those eyes long ago. Memories flooded over him like seawater, and complicated emotions stirred up waves in his heart again and again.

That child was not particularly pleasant-looking, but he had a pair of beautiful eyes.

"Oh, now that everyone has eaten their fill, I have a few more words to say..." Headmaster Dumbledore told everyone not to enter the Woods or cast spells in the corridors, then went on at length about the corridor on the right side of the Fourth Floor.

Loren felt that was a little too much like protesting one's innocence without being accused.

The feast ended with an indescribable school song. Sung to the tune of the Funeral March, the singers clearly enjoyed themselves, and Loren listened with great interest. Before graduation, he would definitely teach the Twins "Lost Rivers." That would surely be entertaining.

After the gathering, the First Years dragged their tired bodies after their older Housemates toward the common rooms. Loren's group followed Percy and met The Fat Lady in the portrait.

Loren, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus were assigned to the same dormitory.

They had clearly been exhausted in the dining hall, yet once they reached the dormitory, they were wide awake and unwilling to go to sleep just yet.

After exchanging greetings, conversation gradually sprang up.

Harry and Ron had already met on the Train, Loren and Neville were somewhat familiar with each other, and Seamus had met Loren and Neville on the boat.

They talked enthusiastically, all speaking at once about the classes they knew of, from Transfiguration Class to Charms Class, from Herb to Potions.

Neville knew some things too, but he was not very good at speaking and stuttered when he talked too quickly. Ron did most of the talking, and he thoroughly enjoyed the scene.

Harry worried a little about whether he could keep up, but Loren and Neville took turns reassuring him, and he soon felt at ease.

Before bed, Loren saw Harry sitting by his bed, looking at the moon outside the window.

"Harry?" Loren called.

"Hmm?"

"Sweet dreams."