Is There Only This One Hat?

The freshmen entered a magnificent Great Hall in pairs behind Professor McGonagall.

Small fires burned along the walls of the Great Hall, while countless candles hung from the ceiling, brightly illuminating the room.

All the older students sat around four Long Tables representing their respective Houses. At the front of each table were empty seats, presumably prepared for the freshmen about to join them.

"Pretty beautiful," Aaron said, looking up at the ceiling. It was a night sky, much like the one he had seen by the Black Lake.

"It's enchanted. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said.

Aaron paused, then gave her a thumbs-up. "You're even more knowledgeable than I thought. I doubt anyone among the freshmen besides you would have noticed those details.

"Hermione, may I ask something presumptuous? When you read a book, do you also look into the author's life?"

"How did you know?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Aaron rolled his eyes. "I guessed. But are you sure you don't want Ravenclaw? I think that would suit you best. You'd make a whole group of like-minded friends there, and you'd definitely be the most outstanding student among them."

"Um..." Hermione hesitated. "We'll see! Students don't get to decide the Sorting themselves."

"True enough." Aaron shrugged and said nothing more, though it was obvious that the girl still wanted to go to Gryffindor.

Professor McGonagall led them to a raised platform. At its center sat Albus Dumbledore; his long white beard made him impossible to mistake.

Teachers of every subject and staff members like Hagrid sat on either side of him.

In the middle of the Steps stood a stool, and on it rested a battered, old pointed hat. It was covered in patches, with a thick layer of dust concealing its original color.

"So this is the Sorting Hat? It's nothing like I imagined," Aaron said with some conflict. Just thinking about wearing that ragged hat later made him feel deeply uncomfortable.

More importantly, this one hat seemed to decide which House they would be assigned to. Was that really reliable?

Its worn condition showed that it was an ancient magical item, but relying on it to determine the next seven years of a freshman's life still seemed rather absurd.

The hat on the stool seemed to hear Aaron's muttering. Its folds formed a human face, and it gave him a provocative smile.

It had encountered freshmen like Aaron before. But anyone who was supposed to wear it would have to wear it. There was no escaping that.

"Hey! You've got some nerve," Aaron snapped, glaring back at it.

The folds on the Sorting Hat's smiling face deepened. I love that look on your face—you don't like me, but there's nothing you can do about it.

"Please wait here for a moment," Professor McGonagall said. "Before the ceremony begins, Professor Dumbledore has a few words for you."

The white-haired old man seated at the High Table rose to his feet. "I have several start-of-term notices to announce. First-year students, pay attention: students are strictly forbidden from entering the Forbidden Forest.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the corridor on the right side of the third floor is also off-limits. If you don't want to die a horrible death, do not go there."

Following Dumbledore's outstretched right hand, Aaron saw a tall, thin, partially bald old man with a sinister gaze staring at them as though waiting for them to make a mistake.

A black-and-white cat stood by his feet, looking equally vicious.

After Dumbledore finished speaking, Professor McGonagall picked up a long parchment. "When I call your name, come forward. I'll place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will determine which House you belong in."

"Wait." Aaron stepped forward. "Professor McGonagall, may I ask whether Hogwarts has only this one Sorting Hat?

"Could we switch to another one? It's really frighteningly dirty, and that isn't very friendly to someone like me who likes cleanliness."

As soon as Aaron finished speaking, laughter erupted throughout the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall was momentarily stunned, then said regretfully, "There is only one Sorting Hat."

"Then could you wash it? I could reluctantly accept it that way," Aaron said.

The Sorting Hat could no longer stand it. It spoke directly. "I can't accept that, so don't even think about it."

"I was asking the professor. Isn't it rude for a hat like you to interrupt?

"A prop will always be a prop. Don't place yourself too highly, or you'll lose sight of what you are." Aaron spoke coldly, then turned his gaze to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, is that possible?"

"Uh..." Professor McGonagall could not help looking toward Dumbledore at the High Table, only to find that he said nothing. For a moment, she did not know how to answer.

If you can't find the book by title, try searching for the author. It may have simply been renamed!

"Fine, Professor, I understand." Aaron did not make things any harder for her. He let out a long sigh. "Please continue the Sorting Ceremony."

"Very well." Professor McGonagall gave Aaron a deep look before beginning to call names.

"Hannah Abbott!"

A rosy-cheeked little girl nervously sat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head.

"Let me think," the Sorting Hat murmured for a moment before suddenly declaring, "I know—Hufflepuff!"

The older students at the table on the right applauded and cheered for their new Housemate. Hannah hurried over to an empty seat at the Hufflepuff table.

"Susan Bones!" Professor McGonagall called the second name.

"Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hat declared readily, much faster than it had for the first student.

"Terry Boot!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The Sorting Ceremony continued. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin all gained quite a few new students, and cheers occasionally rose from the four Long Tables below.

Ron did not disappoint his Parents and brothers, joining Gryffindor just as he had hoped. Hermione did as well.

Worth mentioning was Draco Malfoy. When his turn came, the Sorting Hat gave its verdict the instant it touched his hair, as if he had been born for that House.

More than ten minutes later, only Harry Potter and Aaron Gaius remained standing before the platform.

"Harry Potter!"

When Professor McGonagall called that legendary name, the entire Great Hall fell silent.

Students at the four Long Tables below began whispering among themselves. Those seated farther back craned their necks, hoping to see what he looked like.

Even Dumbledore, seated at the High Table, straightened slightly and watched the boy with the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead expectantly.

"Don't be nervous. Just follow what your heart tells you," Aaron said. "Though it probably won't do much good."

"Thanks!" Harry slowly walked forward and sat down on the chair.

"Hmm... this is difficult. Very difficult indeed," the Sorting Hat said, beginning its analysis. "You have courage, and you're not bad at heart. You're talented, and you desperately want to prove yourself.

"But where should I put you?"

The pointed tip of the Sorting Hat drooped as it swayed from side to side, seeming exceptionally conflicted.

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin..." Harry squeezed his eyes shut and kept murmuring under his breath, terrified that the hat would send him to the House he least wanted to join.

Aaron watched the scene below with amusement. It was obvious that Harry, having been "brainwashed" by Hagrid and Ron, instinctively believed he belonged in Gryffindor and strongly resisted Slytherin.

Without thoughts of his own, other people's opinions would occupy a great deal of weight in his future life. But that was Harry's own choice and had little to do with Aaron.

"Not Slytherin, are you sure?" The Sorting Hat had naturally heard Harry's muttering. "You could rise to greatness there. You have brains in that little head of yours.

"Slytherin could help you accomplish great things. There's no doubt about that."

Harry still did not change his mind, continuously repeating, "Not Slytherin."

"Very well! Since you've made up your mind, then you'll go to... Gryffindor!"

Harry opened his eyes. He had received the answer he wanted, and his face was filled with a relieved smile.

Because he was so famous, Gryffindor's reaction was especially intense this time. Their applause was even louder than before.

Prefect Percy Weasley rose excitedly to shake Harry's hand, while brothers Fred and George kept clapping and shouting, "We've got Potter!"

Most of the teachers and staff at the High Table applauded enthusiastically as well. Dumbledore even raised his goblet toward Harry from afar.

After the brief thunderous celebration, everyone's gaze fell upon Aaron, the last person who had yet to be Sorted.

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