Then Slytherin will get an excellent wizard

The old hat's words made Harry's heart tighten.

Oh no, had I been found out?

"Really?" Harry asked with feigned calm, neither confirming nor denying it.

"Yes. The Sorting Hat never makes mistakes," the Sorting Hat said with certainty. "I remember you. When I sorted you last time, I urged you to go to Slytherin, but you insisted on Gryffindor."

"And this time? Would you still recommend Slytherin?" Harry asked in return.

"I don't think someone daring enough to drink Polyjuice Potion and turn into the Headmaster would be a Slytherin. Heavens, you should have seen Phineas's face back then. He was absolutely furious," the Sorting Hat said gleefully. "You even had the Gryffindor banner hung permanently in the Great Hall, though Phineas revoked the order soon enough."

At that point, the old hat suddenly realized something.

"Wow, time truly is magical. I never imagined you'd be eleven again. But don't worry—the old hat will keep your secret."

"Will you?" Harry was somewhat doubtful.

"Since the day it was created, the old hat has never revealed a single secret belonging to a young wizard," the Sorting Hat vowed. "Not even that huge trouble who gave Albus such headaches."

As for the Sorting Hat's integrity, Harry was willing to trust it.

After all, if the Sorting Hat truly revealed young wizards' secrets to others, Hogwarts would never have produced a Dark Wizard like Voldemort.

"Then which house will you advise me to join this time?" Harry asked again in his mind.

"No one would betray their own house, would they?" The Sorting Hat chuckled. "Without a doubt, you belong in Gryffindor."

"Then what are we waiting for? Announce the result. I'm ready," Harry said impatiently. The stares coming from all directions made him uncomfortable.

Though he knew the Sorting Hat communicated with people mentally, he still was not used to it.

"That really hurts, little one," the Sorting Hat complained. "Old friends should reminisce when they meet, yet you can't wait to get rid of the old hat. You've hurt the hat's feelings."

"You have feelings?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I think I've changed my mind. You ought to be sorted into Azkaban." The Sorting Hat's voice held a trace of indignation.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it that way." Harry hurriedly apologized to the old hat. What a joke—he certainly did not want a guaranteed admission to Azkaban.

Then he asked, "What year did the current Headmaster enroll? Why don't I remember him at all?"

"The Headmaster?" The Sorting Hat thought back before telling Harry, "If I remember correctly, he enrolled during your Seventh year. And Phineas said you had disappeared, so it's perfectly normal that you wouldn't know him—how does it feel, seeing your junior student become Headmaster? Complicated?"

"A little," Harry agreed. "But I never met the Headmaster as a child, so it doesn't feel all that strange."

"Haha, you should meet young Albus." There was a hint of slyness in the old hat's voice.

"Really? Which house was he in?" Harry asked.

"Without a doubt, Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat said delightedly.

Harry nodded in understanding and continued reminiscing with the Sorting Hat for quite some time.

At last, the Sorting Hat said in satisfaction, "It is truly delightful to reminisce with an old friend. As a reward, the old hat has prepared a special sorting ceremony for its friend."

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously.

The old hat did not answer. Just as Harry thought the Sorting Hat was gathering strength to shout, he suddenly felt something hard knock against his head.

He took off the Sorting Hat and saw a sword hilt inside it.

Curious, he reached in and gripped the hilt. With a clang, he drew out a magnificent silver sword.

At the same time, the Sorting Hat in his hand shouted loudly.

"Without a doubt! Gryffindor!"

The Great Hall fell silent. After a moment, thunderous applause erupted from the Long Tables of the three houses other than Slytherin.

"We've got Potter! We've got Potter!" The Weasley twins stood on their benches, waving their arms excitedly.

Harry turned to look at the Teachers' Table.

Hagrid clapped wildly, barely able to contain his excitement; Dumbledore smiled and nodded at him while applauding; while the Greasy Good Professor looked at him with a hint of distaste.

Professor McGonagall beside him had her hands clasped together as well, looking extremely pleased that Harry had been sorted into Gryffindor.

"Professor, this?" Harry held the Sorting Hat in one hand and the Sword of Gryffindor in the other.

"Just leave these to me, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall took the hat and sword from him, walked over to Dumbledore, and handed him the sword.

"I never expected you to arrange such a sorting method, Albus," she said quietly.

Dumbledore was visibly stunned for a moment. "Ah?"

Then he understood what Professor McGonagall meant and replied in the same low voice, "No, Minerva. You will understand later—the Headmaster has no authority to interfere with students' sorting results, much less command the Sorting Hat."

Professor McGonagall looked at Dumbledore suspiciously, but ultimately chose to believe him.

When Harry walked toward the Gryffindor Long Table, every Gryffindor stood and offered him their most heartfelt congratulations.

He sat to Hermione's left. On his other side was a bespectacled boy who looked rather refined.

"Percy, Percy Weasley." Percy held out his hand and introduced himself.

Harry shook his hand. He knew this must be the Prefect brother Ron had mentioned.

The Weasley family generally went by nicknames. For instance, Bill's formal name was William, while Charlie's formal name was Charles.

"Hello, Percy." Harry smiled politely as well.

Just then, Professor McGonagall called Ron's name.

"That's my younger brother, my youngest younger brother," Percy whispered to Harry.

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat shouted.

Ron walked over to Harry and collapsed into the seat Harry and Hermione had saved for him.

"Excellent, Ron, excellent!" Percy said in an exaggerated tone.

"That scared me to death. I thought I was going to be sorted into Slytherin," Ron said, still shaken.

Harry looked at Ron with a grin. "Then Slytherin would have gained an outstanding wizard."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, Harry. You sound just like my Mother."