For the Greater Good

Led by Professor McGonagall, the young Wizards formed a line, passed through the entrance hall, and arrived at a magnificent Great Hall.

Four long tables stood in the hall, and thousands of candles floating in midair illuminated it brightly. Plates and goblets had been set on the tables, with older students seated around them.

At the very front of the hall stood another long table, where the Hogwarts professors sat in order.

Horatio spotted Dumbledore sitting in the very center. He pointed at Old Deng with one finger—you—then turned both hands over—look into my eyes—and dragged his thumb across his throat—wait for death.

Dumbledore saw Horatio's gestures but ignored him, turning his attention to Harry Potter instead.

Seeing Old Deng ignore him, Horatio got a little heated and began thinking about how to pull off something big.

Professor McGonagall led the first-year students before the professors' table and had them line up facing all the older students, with the teachers behind them.

Then she gently placed a four-legged stool before the new students and set a patched, worn, filthy pointed wizard's hat on it.

The hat split open into a mouth and began to sing. "You may think I am not very pretty, but never judge by appearances. If you can find a hat more beautiful than me, I will eat myself. No thought hidden in your mind can escape the Sorting Hat's piercing eyes..."

When it finished, thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall. Professor McGonagall then took out a roll of parchment and said, "When I call your name, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await your Sorting."

"Wait a moment." Horatio raised his hand and interrupted Professor McGonagall. "I think there is still an important part missing."

"Every school has a freshman representative give a speech at the start of term. I imagine Hogwarts is no exception." Horatio stepped forward and stood before the new students. "Though I am unworthy, I am willing to speak as the freshmen's representative."

Before Professor McGonagall could stop him, Horatio had already begun his performance.

"Dear fellow students and upperclassmen, I entered this school full of passion, but I am deeply disappointed. Along the way, I saw that when you greeted one another, the first thing you asked was not what magic someone excelled at, but what family they belonged to. If they were not Pure-blood, you treated them with arrogance.

"Shouldn't coming to Hogwarts be about mastering more magic and making more friends? Why cling to bloodline prejudice and discriminate against Muggle-born students? In the distant East, only dogs care about bloodlines."

The students at the Slytherin table glared furiously at Horatio. Dumbledore also stopped Professor McGonagall from interrupting Horatio's speech, signaling for her to let him continue.

"Students from Pure-blood families, have you ever considered that several hundred years ago, your ancestors were merely Muggles who had gained magic? It was only through their unceasing efforts that you gained your current standing. What you should do is not bask smugly in your family's former glory, but make your family proud of you."

Among the new students, a pair of beautiful eyes watched Horatio thoughtfully.

"Students from Pure-blood families should defeat Muggle-born students with your knowledge and strength, not with some illusory bloodline. And Muggle-born students, do not belittle yourselves. There is an old saying in the Dragon Country: 'Are kings and generals born to their station?' If your birth is inferior to theirs, then surpass them with your sweat and tears."

When he finished, enthusiastic applause rang through the hall. Even Professor McGonagall, who had been somewhat displeased with Horatio, applauded him. Dumbledore's eyes brimmed with tears. The boy had finally grown up.

Horatio glanced at Dumbledore and gave Old Deng a crooked, villainous smile. The groundwork was complete. It was time to cause trouble.

Seeing Horatio's mocking, wicked smile, Dumbledore's heart skipped a beat.

"Dear compatriots, whether Pure-blood, half-blood, or Muggle-born, we share one identity: we are all Wizards. We create miracles, heal diseases, and prevent death.

"But more than three hundred years ago, with the signing of a single decree, we retreated into the shadows, believing silence could buy us peace. But look at the world now! Muggle wars, plagues, weapons—which of them is not devastating? Yet we stand by and do nothing.

"As Muggle technology advances, one day they will discover our existence. What will await us then? I do not know.

"Perhaps they have long known that we exist. They write novels and make films, turning the magic we take pride in into entertainment!"

Protego Diabolica

A wall of golden fire encircled Horatio. Amid the students' cries of alarm, he continued, "When we use magic before Muggles, Ministry of Magic officials arrest us and throw us into Azkaban. We want the freedom to use magic. What exactly have we done wrong?

"Our savior, Harry Potter, is a hero in our eyes, yet he can only live at his Muggle uncle's home in conditions worse than a house-elf.

"When Muggle guns are aimed at us, will you surrender without resistance, or will you raise your magic wand to protect yourselves?"

Horatio snapped his fingers. The golden flames gradually rose and formed a massive Fire Dragon, which let out an earth-shaking roar at the sky.

"It is time to tear away the hypocritical veil of the Wizarding Secrecy Law! We have the right to decide our own fate, the right to let the world know the power of magic—for the greater good."

Dumbledore at the head table could endure no more. "Confringo Maxima!"

The roaring Fire Dragon was gradually crushed by immense magical power. After letting out an unwilling howl, it vanished into the air.

Dumbledore flashed to Horatio's side and landed two hard punches on his head. Then, gripping the back of his neck, he said to Professor McGonagall, "Continue the Sorting ceremony."

He then flashed out of the Great Hall.

"Ahem, ahem. Everything just said was a joke. We still need to abide by the Wizarding Secrecy Law." Professor McGonagall picked up the parchment and said, "Next, those whose names are called, come forward in order."

"Hannah Abbott."

It was not until the Sorting ceremony was nearly over that Dumbledore returned to the Great Hall, carrying Horatio, whose mouth had been sealed by a Silencing Charm and whose hands wore magic-suppressing shackles.

He tossed him onto the stool, signaled Professor McGonagall to put the Sorting Hat on him, and turned to return to the head table.

"What a troublesome young wizard. Where should I place you?" A faint voice sounded beside Horatio's ear.

Anywhere, Horatio thought.

"Slytherin?"

Horatio imagined conquering those vermin in Slytherin with his strength, leading them to grow bigger and stronger and achieve glory once more.

No, no. Sensing Horatio's thoughts, the Sorting Hat hurriedly thought, Ravenclaw?

There were quite a few beauties there. Once he conquered Ravenclaw, he would definitely form Victoria's Amazons.

No, no.

"Hufflepuff?"

Loyal and united little badgers—weren't they perfectly useful tools? A little sweet talk, and he could have a death squad.

No, no.

"You should just go to Azkaban."

That would not be bad either. With his current understanding of souls, dealing with Dementors would be easy. Then he could stage a legend from Azkaban to Minister of Magic.

The Sorting Hat fell silent. This would not do, and that would not do. Professor McGonagall would just have to suffer. No matter where he went, he would cause trouble. It would be best to toss him into Gryffindor. Throwing difficult students into Gryffindor was never wrong.

The Sorting Hat announced loudly, "GRYFFINDOR!!!"

The other three Heads of House breathed sighs of relief and looked at Professor McGonagall's despairing face with glee.

Horatio, seated on the stool, also looked at Professor McGonagall with a comical yellow grin, as if saying—

"Professor, your House is finished. I suggest renaming it Gryffin-fuck-more."