The King Lost His Throne

"Will she miss the Sorting?"

"Probably not?"

As the discussion continued, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out.

"Quiet. No one will miss the Sorting. She'll only be a little late. Our school healer will have her injuries treated shortly."

As she spoke, Professor McGonagall swept her gaze over them all. The whispered conversations vanished like shadows in sunlight.

"Despite a few unexpected events, welcome to Hogwarts. The opening feast will begin soon, but before that, we must hold your Sorting Ceremony."

Andrew noticed several people around him turn solemn at once.

But Professor McGonagall, as merciless as the upper-year students on the train, ignored the questioning looks directed at her. After naming the four houses and telling everyone to get along with their housemates, she left them there. As she put it, she hoped they would present themselves at their best for the Sorting.

Like students in evening study hall once their teacher had gone, the first-years started chattering again as soon as they were sure Professor McGonagall had left.

But no one had any attention to spare for the girl who had been taken away. Many of them didn't even know her.

Even Andrew was a little worried. He didn't know the details of the Sorting, but given how much he had been tormenting the headmaster so far, there was still a risk he would end up in Slytherin.

Even the little he knew about Slytherin was enough to imagine the chaos that would cause—unless he claimed to be the descendant of a pure-blood Dark Wizard who had lived outside the Wizarding World...

It's not impossible... I'd just have to flesh out the story. If they see through it, I won't be able to get by in the house. I probably can't claim a connection to the Dark Lord, so I'll say my grandfather followed Grindelwald before fleeing to England and going into hiding... The important thing is to drop vague hints and let them draw their own conclusions...

Andrew had read up on it, after all. There was currently no magic that could test whether someone was pure-blood. As long as his story was good enough, he wouldn't have to worry about being exposed.

Just as he was filling in the details of his cover story, a cry of surprise came from the front of the first-year group.

A group of ghosts had come through the wall, frightening the first-years, naturally.

After listening long enough to confirm they had nothing useful to say, Andrew returned to his Slytherin survival plan. He had nearly finished it when Professor McGonagall returned.

"Form a single file and follow me."

After a brief commotion, the line took shape. A group of nervous little quails then followed Professor McGonagall into the Entrance Hall on trembling legs.

When everyone turned to look at the first-years, even Andrew felt a flutter of panic.

But panic did no good. The Sorting proceeded at exactly the same pace.

Once the first-years had taken their places, a rather ugly hat was set on a four-legged stool. The Sorting Hat. Right, that's what they use for the Sorting. Andrew felt a little more confident. Then the hat began singing a song that wasn't particularly pleasant.

Andrew noticed Professor McGonagall looking at the Sorting Hat while holding a sheet of parchment, her eyes flicking toward the entrance. Right. Someone still hasn't arrived.

But even after the hat finished its song, there was no movement at the entrance.

Professor McGonagall's expression did not change. After one last glance at the entrance, she took the parchment and walked over to the stool.

"When I call your name, come forward, put on the Sorting Hat, and be Sorted."

She raised the parchment. Her gaze paused for a moment before she called out a name.

"Susan Bones!"

A young girl froze briefly, then stumbled out of the line and went over to put on the hat.

"Hufflepuff!"

The Sorting Hat made its decision almost at once. As the Hufflepuffs welcomed her, Susan hurried over and became the first to sit in the section set aside for the new students.

"Terry Boot!"

Another name was called.

He was Sorted into Ravenclaw.

The Sorting continued in an orderly fashion, but the waiting students grew no less anxious.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"

As that name was called, the entrance door suddenly opened.

Andrew turned with everyone else and saw a huge figure. It was Hagrid.

Professor McGonagall motioned for Justin to continue and hurried over while he put on the hat. She soon brought the injured girl to the first-year group—"Hufflepuff!" the hat called—before returning to her place beside the Sorting Hat.

The Sorting resumed.

The number of students waiting dwindled, and Andrew was now certain he would be among the last called.

"Harry Potter!"

That name brought the Sorting Ceremony back to life. More interestingly, Harry's Sorting took a very long time.

"Gryffindor!"

The Sorting Hat finally made its decision. Nearly everyone watched Harry as he walked toward the Gryffindor table.

Not long afterward, Andrew's name was finally called.

"Andrew Taylor."

Andrew strode up to the Sorting Hat, sat on the stool, and put it on his head.

"What are you afraid of?"

A tiny voice muttered, "Oh, oh my! That story—it was you!"

Almost at the same moment, the Sorting Hat shouted, "Ravenclaw!"

It had made its decision before he had even settled the hat properly on his head.

He immediately pulled it off. The thing he was most afraid of anyone knowing had just been read from his mind!

"Be a little gentler with a handsome old hat..."

The hat, which should have stayed quiet and waited for the next student, spoke again. Its mouthlike slit stretched wide. "I know a great deal, but I tell no one."

"Off you go. You'll make an excellent Ravenclaw!"

It muttered quietly, but Professor McGonagall still fixed her gaze on Andrew. Fortunately, everyone else had turned their attention to Harry Potter. Apart from Professor McGonagall, no one noticed their exchange.

At the Gryffindor table, the red-haired Weasley boys were still happily shouting, "We've got Potter!" Andrew calmed down a little as he walked toward the Ravenclaw table and thought over what had just happened.

It must read minds...

Judging by how long it takes with some people, their first few thoughts probably aren't enough to decide, so it has to read more.

So it only read the thing I'm most afraid of...

That's good news, at least. It was so quick that I don't need to worry about anything else being exposed.

But...

I hope it keeps its word and knows how to keep a secret...

On his first day in the Castle, Andrew had already revealed something he never should have. Feeling a little gloomy, he could only hope a hat would be as discreet as it claimed.