??!
After a moment of stunned silence, the Great Hall erupted into a deafening uproar.
"Azkaban? Did I hear that right? The Sorting Hat said Azkaban?!"
"H-How is that possible?! What on earth was that first-year thinking...?"
"Damn, that's some way to stand out. Is he trying to get himself killed?"
The Weasley Twins looked envious.
Being sorted into Azkaban by the Sorting Hat was an unprecedented "feat"!
How on earth had Ethan managed it?
He looked so quiet and well-mannered, yet without saying a word, he'd pulled off something huge!
In an instant, he'd become the center of attention.
Damn it! Why hadn't they thought of that prank themselves?
They'd been too conservative.
On the platform.
Professor McGonagall was completely dumbfounded.
Even if a hundred Trolls charged into the Great Hall right now, she wouldn't have been any more surprised.
Without thinking, she snatched up the Sorting Hat and smacked it hard, as if it were a broken old appliance.
Sorting Hat: Stop hitting me! I'll talk, all right?
Professor McGonagall was baffled.
How could a polite child like Ethan be sorted into Azkaban?
"All right, Professor McGonagall. Give it to me."
Dumbledore's arrival rescued the Hat just before it gave up the ghost.
"Looks like our new student has played a little joke on us."
Dumbledore smiled.
He lowered his head and met Ethan's innocent blue eyes.
"Mr. Vincent, could you tell me what you were thinking just now?"
Ethan blinked. "I was just sharing my grand plans, that's all."
Dumbledore said, "Well, I'd be delighted to hear all about them later. But for now, let's focus on sorting you according to your personal qualities."
"After all, I can't actually send a newly enrolled student off to the Dementors, can I?"
At that, Ethan narrowed his eyes.
Was he threatening him?
Who'd have thought that this old geezer with white eyebrows would resort to threats...
But Ethan didn't fly into a rage on the spot and slap the old man twice to show him who was boss at Hogwarts.
Nor did he throw a son-in-law-style fit and cry, "Damn it! The river runs east for thirty years and west for thirty years. Don't bully a poor young man!"
He just said, "Oh," and put the Hat back on.
...Ethan really hadn't done it on purpose.
How was he supposed to know this lousy Hat had such little ambition?
He'd only made a couple of impassioned remarks, and it had started yelling like the heroine in some action movie.
Ethan sighed.
Clearly, you couldn't expect a hat to have lofty ideals, could you?
[Actually, child, I may only be a hat, but I'm a hat left behind by the Four Founders, the embodiment of their thoughts.]
The Sorting Hat's voice sounded in his mind.
[All right, if it were up to me, I'd send you straight to Azkaban and skip the middle steps—but since the Headmaster asked, I'll take another look inside your head.]
Ethan cleared his throat and said primly, "I think I'd suit Hufflepuff."
[Hmm... I have to say, you're clever and ambitious. How about Slytherin?]
Ethan said, "I want to go to Hufflepuff."
[Maybe you could find kindred spirits in Gryffindor. That might help get you back on the right track.]
"? Were you not listening? I said I'd suit Huf-fle-puff."
[But your thirst for knowledge and love of art are even stronger. I know where to put you—Ravenclaw!]
The last four words rang out loudly, echoing through the entire Great Hall.
Ethan: "..."
This lousy Hat.
He yanked it off in a huff and looked toward the blue-trimmed table in the hall.
After a long silence, scattered applause finally rose from the table.
Clearly, they weren't sure if a "nearly-Azkaban" student joining Ravenclaw was something worth applauding.
"Don't worry," Ethan said with a smile, his voice ringing out. "I'll lead Ravenclaw to glory."
As he recalled, Ravenclaw hadn't won the House Cup even once in the original story.
"..."
The applause dwindled further.
Among the students, Ron whispered to the person beside him, "I knew he'd end up in Ravenclaw! He's brilliant at spells!"
At the Gryffindor table, Harry felt conflicted when he heard Ethan hadn't been sorted into the same house as him.
He couldn't tell whether he was disappointed or relieved.
"Splendid spirit,"
Dumbledore said with a smile.
"I hope you'll learn everything you wish to know at Ravenclaw."
Ethan nodded, stepped down from the platform, and walked toward the Ravenclaw table.
Strangely enough, as Ethan approached the table, he felt a sense of belonging.
It was as if he belonged here, in this haven of learning where knowledge came first.
After taking his seat, Ethan happened to glance toward the Staff Table.
As it happened, his eyes met Professor Snape's.
The latter was listening to Professor Quirrell speak beside him.
When he saw Ethan, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and the corner of his mouth curled into a spiteful smile.
...Like a wicked mother-in-law who'd finally caught her daughter-in-law doing something wrong.
Hmm, Malfoy must have tattled on him, and Snape was figuring out how to make his life difficult.
Ethan thought.
Although Professor Snape hadn't immediately dragged him to his office for "questioning," he was definitely cooking up something big.
He was waiting to strike Ethan hard at just the right moment.
"Looks like after two months, the 'Lily Effect' is about to wear off..."
"Time to imprint it again."
Ethan murmured, the corner of his mouth curling slyly.
Beside him, Michael Corner, another first-year sorted into Ravenclaw, saw Ethan's smile and shivered.
He silently shut his mouth before he could say hello.
Ethan was terrifying!
Eek.
As for Quirrell beside Snape, Ethan only glanced at him casually.
He was Harry's experience farm. As long as Quirrell didn't get in his way, Ethan had no reason to steal his role.
That had nothing to do with him.
Ethan looked away and lowered his head, tracing the gilded pattern on his plate with a finger.
The pattern hid traces of spells, which had been mentioned in the textbooks.
They were spells like Scourgify, which quickly cleaned the plates after the young wizards finished eating.
Finally, after the last student entered Slytherin, Headmaster Dumbledore stepped onto the platform.
He spread his arms wide, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles with a vitality and energy far beyond his years.
This was the greatest White Wizard of the century—Albus Dumbledore!
"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts, everyone."
"Every time I see all your bright, eager faces, I feel myself growing younger too."
Dumbledore gave a mischievous wink.
"Before the feast begins, I have only this to say—"
"Idiot! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you."
His brief speech was immediately met with applause from all the students.
Then, a sumptuous feast suddenly appeared on the long tables!
Sizzling roast chicken legs, roast beef, roast pork chops and lamb chops, plump pink sausages, and all kinds of potatoes, with the fries piled up into little mountains.
Fragrant creamy stew, tomato and egg stew, buttered peas, cream of mushroom soup, Pumpkin Juice, and plate after plate of rich meat gravy and simmered tomato sauce.
There were even translucent mint humbugs.
And, for some reason, there were also translucent...
—It smelled so good!
Ethan was soon lost in a sea of food.
One of the great things about coming to Hogwarts, apart from learning, was that you could eat your fill.
Ethan sat up straight and chewed with his mouth closed, keeping his table manners impeccable, while his hands never stopped bringing food to his mouth.
To anyone watching, the food in front of Ethan seemed to vanish magically.
"Ah..."
A chilly, forlorn sigh came from above.
Ethan looked up and saw a pale-blue figure floating away.
—The Ravenclaw ghost, the Grey Lady.
Before you continue