Ravenclaw

(Intro)

Yo!

Quiet, everyone. Listen up!

A thousand years of wisdom, hidden beneath my brim

Though I'm old and worn, I still run the show

At Hogwarts, I make the rules!

(Verse 1)

Put away your silk top hats, leave the luxury and the swagger

I'm the one and only OG wizard hat in the whole place

I see every tangled thought inside your head

The fate of the four tables—I'll tell you where you belong:

Red and gold flames, burning away all your fear (Gryffindor!)

Blue and bronze eagle wings, knowledge soaring through the clouds (Ravenclaw!)

Yellow and black badger paws, holding fast to loyalty and the earth (Hufflepuff!)

Silver and green snake eyes don't mean you're cold (Slytherin!)

(Hook)

Don't tremble, first-years!

Don't look away!

The moment the hat lands on your head,

Follow the choice in your heart.

Hear my rhythm,

Find the table where you belong.

Hogwarts' rhymes

Are always my masterpiece!

(Verse 2)

The staff were bewildered. Only Dumbledore seemed interested, keeping time with the beat.

Professor McGonagall had clearly endured the Sorting Hat's rap with patience. "When I call your name, step forward, sit on the stool, and put on the hat."

"So all you do is wear a hat? I still hope it puts me in Gryffindor, though. Otherwise, George and Fred will laugh at me to death," Ron whispered to Harry.

"Yulian, what do you think?" Harry was feeling a little nervous too.

"I don't mind. Any of them would be fine." Yulian shrugged.

"Don't be so indifferent! Just don't go to Slytherin. Most Dark wizards come from Slytherin. And that Malfoy from earlier? His whole family's in Slytherin." Ron continued his warning to Harry and Yulian in a whisper.

Behind them, Lyria listened without a word, her big eyes blinking.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, and the Sorting began.

"Hannah Abbott!"

The little blonde girl flushed red and stumbled toward Professor McGonagall. At her direction, she sat on the tall stool, and the oversized hat covered most of Hannah's face.

A few seconds passed. "Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hat boomed. At the same time, the yellow-and-black table erupted in applause.

Hannah took off the hat and stumbled over to the Hufflepuff table again, settling into a spot at the very end. Several older students nearby reached out to welcome her.

Seeing the "Iron Hat King" back on her throne, Yulian secretly breathed a sigh of relief. The general course of events should still be the same. The Sorting Hat's odd song had startled him.

"Shiloh Yulian Black!"

When Professor McGonagall announced the second name, the whole hall fell silent. Then whispers rippled through it like an autumn wind through a field of wheat.

"Black? Which Black?"

"Are there any Blacks left in this generation?"

"He's probably just a Muggle-born wizard."

The discussion at the Slytherin table wasn't loud, but everyone looked puzzled or thoughtful. Prefect Gemma Farley exchanged a glance with Marcus Flint.

At the staff table, a black-robed man who looked like a bat suddenly turned his head at the name "Black," his face showing shock and anger. But when he saw Yulian's eyes, he froze. Then he turned a puzzled gaze toward Headmaster Dumbledore, seated at the center of the table.

Dumbledore still wore his smile and gave no other indication, which meant he knew about this.

Yulian wore the same smile as Dumbledore and walked forward unhurriedly.

"Ron, why does everyone seem to react so strongly to the surname Black?"

"Oh, Harry. If I didn't know how you were related, I'd be surprised too."

"Why?"

"You know your parents had a friend called Sirius Black. He was the one who betrayed them. Of course, I know this Yulian had nothing to do with it. He's a relative on your mother's side. But nobody else knows that."

When Yulian put on the Sorting Hat, the whole hall fell silent. The surname Black carried too much painful history. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him.

The Sorting Hat covered part of his vision.

"Hmm..." An old, wise voice sounded directly in his mind. "Interesting. Very interesting. An ancient glacier giving rise to a clear stream. How fascinating."

"Is that what you see, Mr. Sorting Hat?" Yulian started up a conversation.

"I can't perform Legilimency. I'm simply sensing things, Mr. Black. You understand the difference, by analogy?"

"Oh, I see. Please, go on."

"You have Gryffindor's courage, but don't enjoy the spotlight; you have Slytherin's ambition, but despise scheming; you admire Hufflepuff's loyalty, but think they're too bound by rules; you yearn for Ravenclaw's knowledge, but find them too dull;..."

"So," Yulian replied in his mind, "could I request to be a day student and switch houses every day?"

The Sorting Hat seemed amused and gave a low chuckle. "You're clever, child, and a little... sly. But deep down, what you truly want is freedom—and change."

"So where am I going, then? How about Hufflepuff? It's closer to the kitchen."

"Then let's follow your wishes: Huffleclaw!"

"What?"

"The Sorting Hat can't speak clearly."

The young wizards below began whispering again.

"Which one did you say?" Yulian himself was a little confused.

"Ravenclaw. I don't know what happened. I was going to say Hufflepuff, but the word changed just as it reached my lips. It was as if something in your mind had made me change it."

"Fine, then. Ravenclaw it is."

Yulian rose lazily and strolled toward the Ravenclaw table.

At that moment, in the Magic Resonance Library in his mind, Murphy rose lazily and strolled deeper between the shelves.

Yulian reached the Ravenclaw table. There were slightly fewer students here than in the other houses.

As soon as he sat down, a tall, handsome boy leaned over and offered him his hand. "Hello, I'm Robert Hilliard, Ravenclaw's male Prefect. I'm also captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team."

"Hello, I'm Yulian Black. I've just come from France. Please take care of me."

"France? Oh, if you don't mind my asking, do you have relatives in the British wizarding world?"

"Oh, I do." Yulian deliberately paused, and Robert raised an eyebrow.

"My mother's maiden name is Evans. I don't know if that means anything to you," Yulian said with a smile.

"Evans? It doesn't ring a bell," Robert said, puzzled.

Just then, an older girl with flaxen hair came up behind them and covered her mouth. "Oh my goodness! Lily Evans?"

"Yes. Lily Evans was more or less my aunt."

Seeing that the boy still hadn't caught on, the flaxen-haired girl explained, "Harry Potter's mother's maiden name was Evans. Lily Evans."

"Oh, my! Then you're Harry Potter's...?"

"Mm-hm. A distant cousin, I suppose."

"I see. By the way, this is Penelope Clearwater."