The Sorting Hat

After Professor McGonagall left, as they waited, translucent gray ghosts emerged one after another from the walls, the floor, and outside the windows.

Several Muggle-born students and timid children from wizarding families screamed in fright.

But before long, the more humorous and friendly ghosts dispelled the young wizards' fear.

But whenever the young wizards asked about the Sorting Ceremony,

the ghosts would suddenly become extremely solemn and frightening.

"Gryffindor's Sorting Ceremony requires you to fight a fire dragon," said a ghost who looked like a knight. "If you win, you can enter Gryffindor. If you lose, you can only go to another House, such as Slytherin."

After saying that, the ghost glanced at a tall, thin, elegantly dressed gentleman-like ghost beside him.

"Bullshit!" the other ghost cursed. "Gryffindor is the second-rate House! We Slytherins are where you can truly learn magic!"

And so, the roomful of ghosts began noisily hurling insults at one another, nearly coming to blows.

This chaotic scene did not stop until Professor McGonagall reappeared. The ghosts filed into the walls and vanished.

"Now, form a single line," McGonagall said. "Follow me."

Ron stood at the front, followed by Harry. Tierra stood behind Harry, and behind Tierra was a brown-haired boy, a little shorter than him.

They climbed the stairs, passed through the Entrance Hall, and arrived in an incredibly magnificent dining hall.

The ceiling of the dining hall was a star-filled night sky, with countless candles drifting beneath it like jellyfish.

All the students except the first-years sat at four long tables.

Gleaming golden plates and goblets were laid out on the four tables.

At the far end of the hall, another long table stood on a raised platform. That was where the teachers sat, and Hagrid was at that table as well.

Professor McGonagall led the first-years over and had them line up facing all the older students, with the teachers behind them. The candlelight flickered, and hundreds of faces watching them looked like pale lanterns. The ghosts were scattered among the students too, glimmering with hazy specks of silver.

"This ceiling has been enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History," Hermione said quietly to Tierra. She had somehow appeared beside him, and there was undisguised pride in her voice.

Professor McGonagall gently placed a four-legged stool before the first-years, then set a battered, patched pointed Wizard Hat on top of it.

The hat's greasy body reflected a greasy sheen, and the creases on it looked like an old man's wrinkled face.

The hat twitched. A wide slit opened in its brim like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

"You may think I'm not much to look at, but never judge by appearances. If you can find a hat more beautiful than me, I'll eat myself.

You can make your bowlers black and glossy, and your top hats smooth and crisp, but I am Hogwarts' magic hat for testing, naturally far superior to your hats.

Any thought hidden in your mind cannot escape this magic hat's piercing gaze. Put me on and give it a try.

I will tell you which House you belong in.

You may belong in Gryffindor, where courage lies buried deep within the heart. Their bravery, spirit, and boldness make Gryffindor stand out;

You may belong in Hufflepuff, where the people are honest and loyal. Hufflepuff students are steadfast and sincere, unafraid of hard work;

If your mind is sharp, perhaps you will enter wise old Ravenclaw, where the intelligent and learned always find their kindred spirits;

Perhaps you will enter Slytherin, perhaps you will make true friends there, but those cunning and treacherous folk will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

Come, put me on! Do not be afraid! Do not panic!

In my hands... though I do not even have hands... you are absolutely safe, for I am a thinking magic hat!"

After the magic hat finished singing, thunderous applause broke out across the hall. The hat bowed to each of the four tables in turn, then became still.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward a few paces, holding a roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and be Sorted," she said. "Hannah Abbott!"

A rosy-cheeked little girl with two golden ponytails obediently sat down. Her eyes, eyebrows, and nose looked very much like those of the Leaky Cauldron's owner... Hmm, the more things changed, the more Hannah Abbott stayed the same, Tierra thought.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

The people at the table to the right applauded and cheered for Hannah, welcoming her to sit with them.

"Susan Bones!"—"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Terry Boot!"—"RAVENCLAW!"

"Tierra Wu!" McGonagall called.

Tierra obediently sat down.

Before the hat fell onto his head, Tierra forced his mind to hold only one thought.

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor... Tierra had drunk a bottle of Huris Potion just half a month ago. The lingering effects were still fairly strong, but not strong enough for the Sorting Hat to notice anything unusual. At the very least, it could not be allowed to see his memories...

It would be fine if it merely saw that he had stolen the Philosopher's Stone, or that he had a library from another world...

But if the Sorting Hat saw the memories of his connection with the being behind the Profound Lord's Seven Chapters Secret Scripture...

The Sorting Hat would probably mutate on the spot.

The Sorting Hat fell unusually silent for several seconds.

"Hmm... interesting, very interesting..." the Sorting Hat said.

Tierra only felt the deepest and strongest desires within his mind being turned over, but fortunately, with an adult's self-control and the help of his spiritual wall, the Sorting Hat did not see much.

Only simple thoughts, without any memories attached.

This was also why Tierra, whose mental strength far surpassed that of ordinary young wizards, could sense the Sorting Hat's inspection.

"Hmm... first, a thirst for knowledge. You are a very curious young wizard. Your desire for knowledge is vigorous, even far beyond that of some adult wizards I have seen... Ravenclaw suits you very well..."

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor... Tierra kept chanting silently in his mind, and the thirst for knowledge that had been stirred up was quickly suppressed.

But immediately afterward, a greedy thought surged up from the depths of Tierra's mind.

Fortunately, Tierra had prepared for it and quickly suppressed it.

"You are also very ambitious, eager for fame. It seems Slytherin suits you as well..." the Sorting Hat said again.

"But clearly, you do not wish to go to either of those Houses. You want Gryffindor..." the Sorting Hat said slowly.

"But you are not suited to Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat teased. "You are a natural little snake or a natural crow, but not a lion. Nor do you possess the qualities needed for Hufflepuff... Can you tell me..."

Before the Sorting Hat could finish, Tierra silently took a long knitting needle from inside his Wizard Robe and gently poked the Sorting Hat.

"Oh, all right, all right. I admit you're a Gryffindor. You're the first one to threaten an old hat during the Sorting Ceremony. Fine then, it shall be..." the Sorting Hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Warm applause erupted from the Gryffindor table, with the Weasley Twins clapping the most enthusiastically.

Clearly, they thought Tierra was a troublemaker just like them.

After all, what normal person stuffed a knitting needle inside his clothes?