They'll Definitely Put You in Azkaban!

After the Sorting Hat finished its song, the entire hall fell silent.

The professors and the older students at the four long tables exchanged glances. They had never seen the Sorting Hat so happy, to the point of composing a new song.

The students soon began to chatter amongst themselves. They had understood a small part of the Sorting Hat's song, but the rest was just wild guesswork.

Moriarty noticed Dumbledore and a female professor with large glasses at the staff table whispering to each other. Through the lenses of Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles, he could see the solemnity in his eyes.

Was it about the Sorting Hat's song?

Moriarty felt that the only thing that could currently capture Dumbledore's attention was the Sorting Hat's song.

It was obvious that the boy mentioned in the song was him.

"Hat, your song was the first welcome gift I received, and I liked it very much. For that, I will also give you a gift."

Amidst the noise, Moriarty's clear voice rang out. The students' attention was drawn to him. Moriarty waved the Slytherin staff at the Sorting Hat, and a thin layer of frost enveloped the hat.

"You should pay attention to your appearance, Hat, or you won't be able to see your old friends."

The Sorting Hat grinned, "Ah ha, what did you do to me? It's cool, it's tingly, oh, so comfortable! I mean—what a pleasant surprise."

A few seconds later, the frost disappeared. The Sorting Hat was brand new, restored to its state from a thousand years ago when it was on Godric Gryffindor's head – a pristine wizard hat.

"Hey," the Sorting Hat called out, "You doing this reminds me of when Salazar and Godric were together. He was always urging Godric to clean me. Well, young man, thank you. Even though I don't like being clean, you've helped me recapture that old feeling."

"It's nothing," Moriarty said. "I hope you're happy, Hat."

A round of applause erupted from the Gryffindor table, praising Moriarty. A red-haired fourth-year even whistled at Moriarty, "Well done! I've wanted to do that for ages!"

Percy, standing behind Moriarty, covered his forehead. "Oh no, it's Charlie!"

The strange atmosphere that had persisted since the Sorting Hat's song ended was suddenly broken, and the students burst into laughter.

Professor McGonagall had to raise her voice. "I will now call out the names. Whoever is called, please put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await sorting."

"Jericho Blench!"

A tall, thin boy with short, light blonde hair quickly stepped out of the line and put on the hat.

Lilith leaned over to Moriarty and whispered, "Blench is an American surname. If I remember correctly, he's the son of James Branch, the current Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games in the American Ministry of Magic. Their family is known for sports."

Then she smiled at Moriarty. "I bet he'll be sorted into Slytherin."

As soon as she finished speaking, the hat shouted in an operatic accent, "SLYTHERIN~"

Jericho Blench took off the hat and agilely ran towards the Slytherin table, where a lukewarm round of applause greeted him.

Lilith winked at Moriarty, her slightly upturned face like a little bear that had found honey.

From then on, whenever a pure-blood wizarding child stepped forward, she could always chatter about their background and origins.

"Penelope Crivat!"

Hearing her name called, Penelope glanced at the other first-years. Moriarty encouraged her, "Don't be nervous, relax."

Penelope walked up excitedly, but as soon as she put on the hat, her true nature showed. She lowered her head and mumbled something indistinctly.

"Want to go to Slytherin?" the Sorting Hat said. "Oh, Merlin's beard, there are already enough Slytherins this year!"

"What? Still want to go to Slytherin?" The Sorting Hat insisted on its opinion. "Going to Ravenclaw will help you achieve your goals faster and better, alright, child?"

Moriarty saw Penelope shaking her head desperately, but the hat was clearly overexcited today. Moriarty suspected it hadn't truly listened to Penelope's inner thoughts.

"Then—RAVENCLAW~"

Penelope's face turned as white as a sheet. She took off the hat and casually placed it on the stool, drawing an indignant cry from the hat. But she acted as if she hadn't heard it and slowly walked towards the Ravenclaw table, where a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted.

Percy looked regretful. "It seems I'm the only Gryffindor among the four in the compartment."

"Don't be discouraged, Weasley," Lilith comforted him. "Great endeavors have nothing to do with where you are."

Just then, Professor McGonagall's voice, with its characteristic rhythm, announced, "Moriarty Slytherin!"

The entire hall fell silent once more, so quiet that even breathing was inaudible.

Moriarty was already at the front of the first-years. He only needed to take one step forward to sit on the stool. The Sorting Hat said with a smile, "Come on, put me on quickly, let me see what you're thinking."

A hint of playfulness flashed in Moriarty's eyes. He had learned a few minor spells in the castle to prevent others from prying into his thoughts, and this was the perfect opportunity to test them on the hat.

As he picked up the Sorting Hat, the system prompt appeared: "Detected host discovering and touching a wizard hat with independent thought. Obtained two exploration draws."

Moriarty did not choose to draw. He put on the Sorting Hat, and in an instant, the hat cried out, "Oh no..."

The hat wanted to see Moriarty's thoughts but was invaded by Moriarty.

Moriarty saw some scenes from the hat's memories:

A tall man in a bright red uniform pointing a sword at a man in a silver robe with an arrogant expression, while he himself was also being aimed at by a staff held by the silver-robed man.

There was also a majestic castle—the hat seemed to have been placed on someone's head, and it saw the interior of the castle.

And—four wizards pointing their wands at the hat, with wisps of blue smoke and white mist emanating from the tips of their wands...

"Hey! You mischievous boy!" The hat let out another scream, breaking Moriarty's intrusion. It said angrily, "You must have learned that probing magic from Salazar, that old fellow. If you weren't called Slytherin, I'd sort you straight into Azkaban!"

At this point, both first-years and older students let out a low gasp, but Moriarty didn't care. He laughed heartily, "I think you must have inherited Godric's sense of humor. You have a great talent for telling jokes!"

"Really? Am I serious?" the Sorting Hat asked again, its earlier anger seeming feigned as it pondered, "Perhaps next time during the Sorting, I should ask the new students to line up and tell me jokes. That way, I can quickly judge their character."

A roar of laughter erupted from the Gryffindor table, with several mischievous lions cheering loudly, "That's brilliant!"

Seeing the hat forgetting its duty, Moriarty cleared his throat lightly, "Stop pondering and sort me already. I don't want to be a hat-trick."

"Alright, alright, I wanted to chat with you a bit longer," the hat smacked its lips. "Isn't it obvious? Slytherin should naturally go to the Slytherin house!"

The loudest cheers and applause erupted from the Slytherin table. A senior student conjured a silver snake with his wand and declared, "Praise Slytherin!"

Most of the young snakes applauded with smiles, only a few wore expressions that were hard to read.

Moriarty arrived at the Slytherin table, and everyone stood up wanting to shake his hand, but they were stopped by the oldest prefect, William Romot.

Moriarty recognized him as the one who had conjured the silver snake. He told the students to continue watching the Sorting and then arranged for Moriarty to sit next to a charming and cute girl.

"Hello, Mr. Moriarty, I'm Gemma Farley, your third-year senior."

This senior had coffee-colored hair that fell to her waist and a pair of emerald green eyes. She was smiling at Moriarty at that moment.

Moriarty greeted her politely, and they watched the Sorting together.

After two more new students were sorted into Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, Professor McGonagall called out, "Lilith Peverell!"