No Hitting the Sorting Hat

The hours of study always felt fulfilling yet fleeting. By the time Eliana put down the last copy of Guide to Self-Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was already dark, and the train compartment broadcast announced their imminent arrival at Hogwarts.

Following the announcement's instructions, Eliana left her luggage on the train and stood up with renewed energy. She looked like a soldier fully stocked with ammunition, brimming with confidence.

Harry tried to sneak one last glance at his textbook. He looked like a soldier who'd been hit by ammunition.

They got off the train and boarded the small boats. Ron, Harry, Eliana, and Hermione ended up in the same one.

As the boats drew closer to the castle, Harry and Ron's faces grew paler and paler. These two boys, convinced they hadn't memorized a thing, looked like they were about to faint.

Especially when they heard the two girls behind them engaged in a heated discussion.

"What's the use of a gorgon's eye? Where can you get one?"—Harry recognized Eliana's voice.

"It can cure poison. It's found in a goat's stomach."—That was Hermione.

"Now it's your turn to quiz me!"

Blah blah blah, chatter chatter chatter.

Ron's leg trembled as he said to Harry beside him, "If it's a competition between classmates, I hope I don't run into those two."

Harry nodded heavily and whispered, "I hope I get matched against that Malfoy kid. He doesn't look tall, and he doesn't seem very smart."

Ron shot a glance at the students in other boats, trying to pick out a soft target for himself in advance.

The two of them, trembling with nerves, followed the crowd into an empty room on the other side of Hogwarts' gates. They got a massive fright from a sudden ghost, so much so that when they realized all they had to do was put on the Sorting Hat to be sorted, they were so overjoyed they nearly jumped.

"Did you see that, Harry? Just put on the hat!"

Ron said excitedly.

The two, swinging between great sorrow and great joy, clung together like a pair of puppies—the friendship they'd just forged had grown by leaps and bounds through the day's twists and turns.

"Those whose names I call, come up and put on the hat," said Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the Sorting, holding a roll of parchment. "Hannah Abbott!"

Eliana felt a bit disappointed—the kind of letdown you get when you've painstakingly finished your summer homework, only to be told the teacher won't check it.

She quickly shook off that flicker of disappointment and began analyzing which house would suit her better, based on the Sorting Hat's song just now.

As the official tool for Sorting, this hat might look a bit shabby, but its attitude absolutely reflected the wizarding world's mainstream views on the four houses.

Key takeaways:

Gryffindor: courage; Hufflepuff: loyalty; Ravenclaw: wisdom; Slytherin: cunning.

Well, no need to think twice. Eliana unhesitatingly kicked out the last one. She didn't know much about houses, but she understood the weight of being the only one the shabby hat gave a negative label.

If it had swapped the adjective for "ambition," she wouldn't have been so quick—speaking with a slightly skewed moral compass, a house that produced Voldemort, who terrorized the wizarding world for eleven years and still cast a lingering shadow, Eliana personally thought was pretty strong.

But its reputation was really bad, and she was worried it would affect her long-term development.

Of the remaining three houses, Eliana wrestled with it a bit but still felt Gryffindor's lyrics suited her better. "Daring, spirit, chivalry" were all top-tier words, especially that "outstanding"—wasn't that tailor-made for her?

She was going to Gryffindor!

Eliana made her choice quickly—she never even considered whether Gryffindor would want her. Ridiculous: if Gryffindor thought a girl bold enough to con someone on the street lacked courage, then the Sorting Hat might as well let her take its place.

Eliana put her hands on her hips—she thought she was way smarter than that hat.

That hat was old; it should retire to a museum—give the position to someone who needed it more, like her!

Working only one day a year—what a great job.

On the very first day of school, Eliana had already set her sights on the Sorting Hat's position.

From the high platform, Professor McGonagall called out loudly: "Harry Potter!"

The previously quiet hall suddenly buzzed with a low murmur, like a thousand snakes had been released into the room. Everyone discussed and anticipated where the savior would go, each hoping he'd end up in their house.

Eliana also stared at Harry, whose face was hidden by the hat, but her eyes flickered with the flame of ambition—one day, she would be just as famous, and everyone would look forward to her arrival the way they did Harry's.

Unlike the students before him who were sorted quickly, the hat was silent over Harry for a long time—or maybe it was just because Eliana only paid slight attention to Harry. What were they saying?

Perhaps her desire to know was too strong. Eliana felt the wind carry the faint, almost imperceptible discussion between the boy and the hat to her ears.

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin."

"Made up your mind? Alright, since your heart is set, then Gryffindor it is!"

The hat on Harry's head shouted, "Gryffindor!"

—Wait, so you could just go wherever you wanted?

While Gryffindor erupted in joyous celebration over the savior's arrival, Eliana's eyes went wide all on her own.

Great. Now she really wasn't nervous at all.

So when the hat came down and blocked Eliana's view, she mimicked Harry and muttered a little rap under her breath: "Go to Gryffindor, go to Gryffindor, go to Gryffindor."

"Oh, an impatient child. I sort you based on your traits; let me have a look," the Sorting Hat grumbled. "Ah, a strong desire to prove yourself, a craving for success? Intense ambition, a pursuit of power. Greedy little girl, you even want my position?"

The Sorting Hat's voice rose a bit.

Eliana wasn't happy.

What kind of talk was that? A good job goes to the capable—no, wait, on her very first day of school, she was willing to contribute to Hogwarts. What a noble quality. How was that greed?

This hat's lived so long it's patched itself into senility, hasn't it? Doesn't understand a thing about hat social graces!

And those words—don't they feel more like Slytherin?

She thought the old, deaf, tattered hat hadn't heard her, so she puffed up her face and raised her voice a little: "I want Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!"

"Want Gryffindor, yes, you certainly have courage," Eliana felt the hat shift on her head, clicking its tongue, "but your Slytherin traits are very obvious, too obvious, hmm..."

The Sorting Hat teased her, deliberately pausing.

But Eliana didn't know that.

When she heard that "but," her heart sank; when it said she was better suited for Slytherin, it got worse; and when she heard that "hmm," she thought it was about to shout "Slytherin," and she panicked.

On instinct, she punched upward at the hat, just as its mouth was open. Her fist slammed into its upper palate—if that patch-filled interior could be called a palate—with no small force.

The Sorting Hat let out a shriek and flew off, bending into a C-shape midair.

Eliana glared furiously at the hat, now on the ground and still retching: "I want Gryffindor!"

What was this broken hat's problem? It could choose for the Chosen One but not for her? This was discrimination! She'd report it to the Ministry of Magic!

Professor McGonagall stared in shock at the hat on the ground, still going "hurk, hurk, hurk," then looked at Eliana, who had jumped off her seat in anger and seemed ready to kick the hat again:

"Miss Richie, I appreciate your enthusiasm for Gryffindor, but which house you go to is determined by the Sorting Hat based on each person's traits—you cannot assault the Sorting Hat."

Only then did Eliana remember everyone was watching.

The little ball of fury deflated with a whoosh, and she slunk back onto the high stool: "I won't do it again, Professor."

From the Gryffindor table, a sudden burst of cheers erupted. A pair of red-haired brothers who looked very alike jumped up and down, shouting loudly: "Beautiful lady, Gryffindor welcomes you!"

Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat from the floor and cast a stern look at Gryffindor.

The noise gradually died down, and the hall fell quiet again.

She once more lowered the hat toward Eliana's head, then paused: "Miss Richie, I think I need to reiterate—no matter which house you're sorted into—do not assault the Sorting Hat."

Eliana obediently leaned her head forward: "I won't, Professor."

"No!!" The hat, which had been dry-heaving for a while, shrieked as if electrocuted, "I think her personality traits are already quite obvious—"

"Gryffindor!"

It announced loudly.

In response to popular demand, a VIP Member ad-free feature is now available.