The Sorting

Professor McGonagall left, and the atmosphere in the small room grew somewhat gloomy.

The young wizards who had just set foot in the Magic World were nervous about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony, afraid they might fail Hogwarts' exam.

How embarrassing it would be to get expelled!

Klein watched the row of tense little faces with interest, feeling quite cheerful. Remembering how foolish he'd looked when he first enrolled at Durmstrang in his previous life, he couldn't help smiling.

"Ah!"

Suddenly, a girl's shriek rang out from the crowd.

At some point, a group of translucent ghosts had appeared in the room!

"Keke Klein?"

Neville, who was easily frightened, instinctively looked for the friend he'd only just made. He happened to see Klein greeting a chubby ghostly friar, and was so startled that he choked on his own spit and began coughing violently.

"Your companion seems a little timid."

The ghostly friar chuckled, unbothered by Neville's reaction. Every year, some first-years were badly frightened; those as calm as Klein were few and far between.

"He's just shy around people."

Klein shrugged, then smoothly changed the subject.

"Everyone says there are a lot of secrets hidden in this castle. How about telling me a few?"

The ghostly friar paused, then smiled and shook his head.

"Young man, some things are more fun to discover for yourself."

"All right~"

Klein didn't feel disappointed at getting no useful information. He continued chatting happily with the ghostly friar.

Before long, Professor McGonagall returned. The ghostly friar waved goodbye to him and, like the other ghosts, slipped back through the wall.

"The Sorting Ceremony is ready. Now, follow me."

Efficiently directing the stiff-backed children into a line, Professor McGonagall led Klein and the others into a magnificent dining hall.

Candlelight outshone the sun; everything gleamed with gold!

Four long tables stood in the hall, laden with gleaming golden plates and crystal goblets. Students filled the seats around them, and the older students were looking curiously at their younger schoolmates.

Countless candles floated overhead, illuminating an endless starry sky—a remarkably clever illusion, almost indistinguishable from the real thing.

The professors' seats were on the raised platform. Professor McGonagall led everyone to the foot of it and lined them up facing the tables.

At once, countless eyes turned toward the new students.

"Mm."

Neville nervously swallowed, the invisible pressure making his stomach cramp. Klein noticed and smiled, but said nothing.

Once the line was in place, Professor McGonagall nodded to the raised platform, then set a four-legged stool in front of the first-years and placed a battered old wizard's hat on it.

The hat was crumpled and looked like it had a face. More interestingly, when everyone turned their eyes toward it, it began to sing.

"You may think I'm not much to look at,

But never judge a book by its cover.

If you can find a hat more clever than me,

I'll eat myself!

You can make your bowler hats black and shiny,

Your tall silk hats smooth and smart,

But I'm Hogwarts' testing hat,

And naturally far more clever than yours.

Whatever thoughts are hidden in your minds

Cannot escape the Sorting Hat's keen eyes.

Put me on and give it a try; I'll tell you

Which house you ought to join.

Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor,

Where courage lies deep within,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Make Gryffindor stand out from the rest;

Perhaps you belong in Hufflepuff,

Where people are just and loyal,

Hufflepuff students are steadfast and honest,

Unfazed by hard work;

If you're sharp of mind,

Perhaps you'll join wise old Ravenclaw,

Where the clever and learned

Will always find their kind;

Perhaps you'll join Slytherin,

Where you might make true friends,

But the cunning and ambitious will stop at nothing

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

There's no need to panic!

In my hands,

You're perfectly safe,

For I'm a thinking hat!"

Its voice was hoarse and badly off-key, but Klein politely applauded. He wasn't the only one; everyone clapped.

A smile appeared on the Sorting Hat, which seemed quite pleased.

"When I call your name, put on the hat and sit on the stool."

Once the applause died down, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and announced the start of the Sorting Ceremony. She called out the first name on the parchment in her hand.

"Hannah Abbott."

At the sound of her name, the little girl with two blond braids stumbled out of the crowd and hurried to the stool, putting on the hat.

A moment later, the Sorting Hat gave its verdict.

"Hufflepuff!"

The students at the far-right table began clapping and cheering, welcoming her to take her place at the table belonging to Badger House.

"Susan Bones,"

Professor McGonagall called again.

"Hufflepuff!"

This time, the Sorting Hat made its decision even faster.

The Sorting Ceremony proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Andy Thomas, Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione Granger—all of whom had spoken with Klein to some extent—were sorted and joined their respective tables.

When Harry Potter sat on the stool, the atmosphere in the dining hall reached its peak.

After a brief wait, the Boy Who Lived joined Gryffindor, earning thunderous applause.

More and more students left the line. Klein wasn't in a hurry; he waited quietly for his name to be called.

Time passed, and eventually, only he remained beneath the raised platform.

He was the very last one!

"Klein Grindelwald."

Professor McGonagall glanced over the list and called the final name, pausing slightly in surprise.

Grindelwald?

That wasn't a common surname.

"Tap, tap, tap."

His khaki leather boots thudded against the marble floor. Klein walked toward the stool at an unhurried pace, as casually as if he were strolling through his own garden.

One step, two steps, three steps.

For some reason, the hall suddenly fell silent, a stark contrast to the excitement during Harry Potter's Sorting.

Handsome and refined, exceptional and distinctive.

Klein's indescribable air instantly drew every eye!

"Heh."

On the raised platform, the old man in star-covered robes smiled faintly.

He wasn't surprised.

Some people were simply born to be the center of attention.

When he reached the front, Klein put on the hat, and a voice sounded inside his head.

"Ah, an interesting young man. Humble and polite, full of energy, with ideas of his own—and bold enough to put them into practice."

He smiled and asked in return, curious,

"Thank you for the compliment. I have a question. I've already mastered Occlumency. How did you manage to pry into my thoughts?"

The Sorting Hat's voice faltered, and it fell into an eerie silence.

Klein blinked, wondering if the hat was perhaps too sensitive to take questions.

"I've made my decision."

A few minutes later, the Sorting Hat's voice sounded in his mind again.

This time, its mood seemed a little...

Downcast?

"Mr. Hat, you still haven't answered my question."

Klein wasn't in a hurry. It made no difference to him where he went.

"Slytherin!"

Ignoring Klein's quiet murmur, the Sorting Hat raised its "voice" and eagerly announced the final verdict.

He'd been sorted into Slytherin.