Didn't I Assign You to a Courtyard?

Ron, persuaded by Hermione, stopped looking at Draco and chose to ignore his provocations.

He turned around and began chatting with everyone about the Sorting.

After worrying about whether he would be expelled, Ron began worrying about the Sorting again.

Spurred on by him, all the young wizards from Pure-blood wizarding families began to worry as well. Even Draco, who had always been so smug, turned pale.

"My father... my father said that when he enrolled, he had to fight a werewolf..."

After hearing Draco's words, the faces of those around him turned purple.

The crowd buzzed with conversation for a while longer, then the Great Hall suddenly fell silent.

Carried along by the hushed atmosphere, everyone stopped talking.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and gently placed a Four-legged stool before the First Year Students.

She then set a Pointed wizard hat on the stool. It was patched, worn old, and extremely filthy.

Harry recognized it. This was the thing that had been used for Sorting when he first came to Hogwarts.

Then the hat stirred. A wide slit opened along its brim like a mouth—

It began to sing.

"You may think I'm not very pretty, But never judge by appearances, For if you can find a hat more handsome than me, I'll eat myself.

You may make your bowler hats glossy black, And your top hats smooth and crisp, But I am the Sorting Hat used at Hogwarts, Naturally far superior to all your hats.

Any thought hidden within your mind

Cannot escape the Sorting Hat's keen eyes.

Put me on and give me a try, And I will tell you

Which House you belong in.

Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor, Where courage lies buried in your heart.

Their bravery, daring, and chivalry

Make Gryffindor stand apart;

Perhaps you belong in Hufflepuff, Where the people are just and loyal.

Hufflepuff students are steadfast and honest, And unafraid of hard work;

If your mind is sharp, Perhaps you'll enter wise old Ravenclaw, Where those who are wise and learned

Will always meet their kindred spirits;

Perhaps you'll enter Slytherin, Perhaps you'll make sincere friends there, But those cunning and treacherous folk will stop at nothing

To achieve their ends.

Come, put me on! Don't be afraid!

Don't panic!

In my hands—though I don't have any hands—

You are perfectly safe, For I am a thinking Sorting Hat!"

After the Sorting Hat finished its song, thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall. The Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four tables in turn, then became still.

"So we just have to put on this hat?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "I'm definitely going to kill Fred and George. They tricked me into thinking I had to fight a troll! The problem is, I actually believed them!"

"What about your Father? Didn't he also trick you into thinking you had to fight an Acromantula?" Harry suddenly said.

Ron faltered. "Ah, that... really isn't necessary."

Harry chuckled, delighted at having teased his best friend.

Just then, Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a roll of parchment in her hand.

She reached out, pinched the Sorting Hat by its pointed tip, and lifted it up.

"Oh, don't treat an old hat like that. He's old enough already; he shouldn't be treated this way," the Sorting Hat complained, opening its mouth.

Everyone laughed at the hat's humor.

Professor McGonagall chose to ignore the Sorting Hat's complaint. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await your Sorting."

Without even looking at the list, she called loudly, "Hannah Abbott!"

As soon as the words fell, a rosy-cheeked young girl with two golden braids stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, and the brim covered her eyes completely.

She sat down. After a brief pause—"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

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

Harry saw the Fat Friar ghost from Hufflepuff happily wave to her as well.

"Susan Bones!" Professor McGonagall called again.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted once more, and Susan quickly ran over to sit beside Hannah.

"Terry Boot!" "RAVENCLAW!"

This time, the second table on the left burst into applause. When Terry joined them, several Ravenclaw students stood up and shook his hand.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Hermione Granger!"

"Go on, Hermione," Ron encouraged her.

Hermione took a deep breath, jogged over to the stool, and hurriedly took the hat from Professor McGonagall before putting it on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Ron gave a satisfied hum.

"Neville Longbottom!"

Hearing Professor McGonagall call his name, Neville ran toward the stool, only to trip and fall on the way.

The hat took a long time to make its decision about Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR," Neville even forgot to return the hat to Professor McGonagall and ran back with it still on his head.

"Hey, boy, return the old hat!" the Sorting Hat yelled. "You can like the old hat, and the old hat is very happy; but if you take the old hat away with you, the old hat won't be happy!"

Neville's face instantly turned scarlet. He had no choice but to lower his head and return the hat amid the laughter.

When Malfoy's name was called, he swaggered over and sat on the stool.

The moment the hat barely touched his head, it shrieked, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking very pleased with himself.

By then, there were not many people left.

Moon... Nott... Parkinson...

After that came a pair of twin sisters named Pettigrew... then Salvian Perks... and finally, at long last—

"Harry Potter!"

Harry stood and made his way toward Professor McGonagall at an unhurried pace.

As Harry walked forward, a sudden murmur spread through the Great Hall, like the hiss of tiny flames.

"Potter? Did she say Potter?"

"That Harry Potter?"

After all, these children had grown up hearing stories of The Savior. If Voldemort had been used to stop their crying when they were little, then Harry's name was the ultimate way to lull them to sleep.

Everyone's gaze turned toward Harry, eager to learn the result of The Savior's Sorting.

Harry walked forward and looked at that familiar old hat, suddenly remembering how, the first time he had worn it, it had tried to persuade him to go to Slytherin.

Then let's see whether it would still try to persuade him to go to Slytherin this time.

With that thought, Harry accepted the hat from Professor McGonagall with both hands—he was the only one to do so, and to thank her as well.

A trace of gentleness flashed through Professor McGonagall's eyes. She stepped back slightly and waited for Harry's Sorting result.

Harry sat on the stool and placed the hat on his head.

"Huh?"

The old hat's voice surfaced in his mind.

"Strange, am I getting senile? Didn't I just Sort you?"