Hufflepuff? Dumbledore's Secret Move

Chapter 13: Hufflepuff? Dumbledore's Hidden Hand

"B-Brook, look, a ghost (●⁰ꈊ⁰●)," Hermione whispered excitedly in Brook's ear.

Brook followed her gaze.

Two dozen milky-white, translucent ghosts were gliding past overhead.

He turned and glanced at Hermione again.

Shouldn't a little girl be scared of seeing ghosts for the first time?

Why was she so excited?

The commotion caused by the ghosts didn't last long.

Because Professor McGonagall had returned.

All the first-years quickly lined up and entered the Great Hall.

Students from the four houses were already seated around four long tables.

Thousands of candles floated above the tables, illuminating the entire hall.

The ceiling looked transparent, clearly showing the twinkling stars in the night sky.

Hermione explained in a low voice, "It's enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

Brook nodded.

That was so Hermione.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years.

Then she set a pointed wizard's hat on the stool.

The hat was patched, worn, and quite dirty.

Brook frowned slightly.

Was this the legendary Sorting Hat?

He wasn't a neat freak, but this was too grimy.

A tear in the brim of the Sorting Hat opened, and it began to sing.

"You might think I'm not pretty, But don't judge by appearances, Come and put me on!

Don't be afraid!

Don't panic!

In my hands (though I don't have any), You're perfectly safe, for I'm a Thinking Cap!"

After the Sorting Hat finished its song, the hall erupted in applause.

Brook clapped too.

It really sang well.

Much better than the "Big Bowl, Small Bowl" stuff he'd heard in his past life.

Professor McGonagall announced, holding a roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

She cleared her throat. "Hannah Abbott!"

Every stream's protagonist, the eternal Hannah.

The multiverse's magical iron-hat king, swaying her two golden braids, sat on the iron throne.

A moment later, the Sorting Hat shouted.

"Hufflepuff!"

The students at the table on the right immediately applauded and cheered.

Clearly, that table was for Hufflepuff students.

Soon it was Hermione's turn.

She trotted straight to the stool and quickly put the hat on her head.

But she was still wearing a pink woolen hat underneath, making her look a bit adorably silly.

After about five minutes, the Sorting Hat finally made a decision.

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione looked apologetically at Brook.

Brook gave her a gentle smile.

Only then did Hermione walk toward the Gryffindor table.

Not long after, the famous Harry Potter was called.

As soon as his name was read out, a stir rippled through the hall.

Harry was unsurprisingly sorted into Gryffindor.

The students at the Gryffindor table erupted in the loudest applause.

Brook shrugged.

It seemed his little butterfly flapping in had caused no changes at all.

In his past life, when he'd watched the movies, he'd actually thought Harry should have gone to Slytherin instead of Gryffindor.

Given Harry's status as the savior, he would have absolutely made the Slytherins hedge their bets on both sides.

Once Harry took down Voldemort, he could easily land a high position in the Ministry of Magic.

"Brook Lott." Professor McGonagall read out his name.

Brook walked to the stool, pulling gloves and a hat from his pocket.

After putting them on, he finally placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

His actions sparked a wave of whispers throughout the hall.

Even a fool could see the undisguised disdain in his preparations.

Headmaster Dumbledore turned to Snape with a smile.

"It seems I may need to consider giving the Sorting Hat a bath—it's actually been scorned."

Snape shot Dumbledore a sidelong glance, inwardly agreeing wholeheartedly.

But his lips curled in disdain as he said, "Grandstanding."

"Boy, what do you mean by that?"

The moment Brook placed the Sorting Hat on his head, it protested indignantly.

Brook replied calmly, "The dust on you has formed a patina—isn't it normal for me to be disgusted?"

"This is the sediment of time, the proof of history!" the Sorting Hat shouted loudly.

The murmurs in the hall grew louder.

The Sorting Hat usually communicated with new students through thought.

They couldn't hear a thing.

But this time, the Sorting Hat was speaking out loud.

Dumbledore's blue eyes grew deeper.

He knew the Sorting Hat wouldn't do something like this without reason.

So then...

This little one could really bring him surprises!

"Whatever makes you happy!" Brook said flatly.

"￥#@%..." The Sorting Hat was momentarily speechless, but it got back to business.

"Boy, open your mind, or I can't sort you."

The Sorting Hat's words made all the professors stare at Brook in surprise.

Especially Snape, whose eyes flashed with a sharp glint.

"I want to choose for myself."

"That won't do—sorting is my duty."

"I learned Occlumency by accident, and I can't control it to stop," Brook replied casually.

"..."

The Sorting Hat fell silent.

It had never encountered an oddball like Brook before.

An eleven-year-old kid who was proficient in Occlumency, and even it couldn't break through.

Calling such talent "monstrous" wouldn't be an exaggeration.

It had heard of Brook's deeds in the headmaster's office, though.

"Boy, how about I just send you straight to Azkaban?"

"Oh, does Hogwarts have that house too?"

Brook placed his hand on the Sorting Hat.

A faint ripple of magic emanated subtly.

"Ahem, just kidding. I'll have to find another way to sort you."

"Let's hear it."

Brook was intrigued that a hat could think, and even come up with its own solutions.

"Learning Occlumency at your age shows you're very clever—that fits Ravenclaw's standards."

"I've got a bit of a sharp mind, sure, but I don't like studying. What I hate most is reading."

"Not liking books won't do. All the other young wizards put on gloves and a hat without complaining about me being dirty, but you dared to be the first—that shows courage, which meets Gryffindor's requirements."

"Courage? I don't have any of that. If someone slaps me, I'd turn the other cheek. As for just now, it was purely because I have a cleanliness obsession."

"ε=(´ο｀*))) Ahh~"

The Sorting Hat had no emotions, or else it would have cursed Brook's family.

"Lott—there's no Lott surname among the twenty-eight families. You might be a half-blood, but even half-bloods rarely meet Slytherin's standards. That leaves only Hufflepuff."

Brook's lips curled slightly.

See?

The Sorting Hat was quite reasonable after all.

"Hufflepuff? I actually do like eating."

The Sorting Hat didn't reply. It fell silent, then suddenly announced loudly.

"Gryffindor!"

(The Little Author has written about Slytherin and Hufflepuff before—this time, a change of pace. Even though he's not going to those two houses, he won't let them off the hook, ヾ(≧O≦)〃嗷~)

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