Sorting Ceremony (Revised)

The small boat soon carried the first-years to the other side of the lake. Led by Hagrid, the group walked all the way to the front of Hogwarts castle.

The Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall, was standing there. She led everyone into a small, empty room, said a few brief words, and then left.

The first-years began to whisper to one another, discussing how the upcoming Sorting would be conducted.

These students had already learned about the four houses at home or on the train, knew their characteristics, and had already set their own goals in their hearts.

Therefore, they certainly did not want to be sorted into a house they didn't want to go to because of school policy.

Unfortunately, none of the sorting methods mentioned by the students were the same; it seemed that everyone who had already been sorted was intentionally avoiding telling the first-years the correct method.

Ron had been following Harley ever since they got off the train, and at this moment, he asked her, "Harley, which house do you want to go to?"

"Anywhere is fine. We don't have the final say anyway; it depends on the school's assignment." Harley was closing her eyes to rest, and she answered casually without even opening them.

Harley didn't care where she would be sorted. After all, according to Hogwarts: A History, these four houses were merely different places to live and different course schedules; there was no difference in the content of what was learned.

It wasn't like the Northern Continent, where choosing a different church meant being able to follow a different pathway. Thus, Harley remained indifferent.

If she really had to deduce which house she might go to, based on the school's representative animals, Harley figured there was a high probability she would go to Slytherin. After all, the mythical creature form of a Primordial Witch was a Gorgon.

Moreover, she seemed to fit the shrewdness and ambition of Slytherin, and she didn't lack cunning; Slytherin certainly wouldn't reject Dark Magic. No matter how she looked at it, Slytherin was very suitable for her.

However, the qualities valued by Gryffindor also seemed to fit her situation, as that house valued courage above all else.

One had to know that Harley had once defected from the Witch Sect, a cult that served the evil god Primordial Witch.

Thinking back on how she had the courage to defect from such a sect, it felt incredible; it was definitely a display of great courage.

Of course, Ravenclaw wasn't impossible either. After all, Harley was very passionate about occult knowledge, even more so than many Spectators.

Only Hufflepuff... anyway, the Witch Pathway, which had pain and despair at its core, didn't seem to have anything to do with the honest and loyal Hufflepuff.

Harley stopped letting her mind wander and continued to close her eyes to rest. Regardless of where she was sorted, it surely wouldn't be worse than "starting in the Witch Sect" or "just becoming immortal and encountering Amon"!

Of course, there was an even worse situation, but Harley didn't continue that line of thought.

After a long while, McGonagall walked into the group with a hurried expression.

"Apologies, students," McGonagall said.

"There was a small accident just now; the school's staircases suddenly changed direction, so it took me a while to retrieve the Sorting Hat.

Everyone, hurry up and line up in a single file and follow me."

McGonagall led the first-years into the Great Hall. Tens of thousands of candles floated above the hall, and the ceiling shimmered with starlight.

The first-years stood in a line in front of a four-legged stool, on which sat a pointed wizard's hat.

The hat suddenly opened its mouth and began to sing, though the singing was truly awful. In Harley's memory, the last person who sang this poorly was an Ocean Songster of the Tyrant Pathway, who seemed to be a member of the Church of Storms.

That irritable fellow had been Harley's first trophy after advancing to Sequence 4, and she had sold him for a good price to a blue-haired ghost ship captain.

After the hat finished singing, the first-years finally understood that they only needed to put on the hat to be sorted.

Many people gritted their teeth, vowing to give their older brothers and sisters a piece of their mind when they got back for lying to them!

McGonagall stepped forward holding a roll of parchment: "Whomever I call now, come forward, put on the hat, and sit on the stool to await sorting."

Then, McGonagall called out the first name:

"Hannah Abbott!"

The sorting continued, and the number of first-years steadily decreased. Not many of the students caught Harley's attention, though Malfoy could barely be counted as one.

That Malfoy, whom Harley had influenced using Incite, and his two lackeys had all gone to Slytherin, which Harley found quite amusing.

Does Slytherin not look at intelligence when recruiting? Those three didn't seem very bright, which didn't fit Slytherin's so-called shrewdness and cunning.

Then again, perhaps the platinum-haired Malfoy in the middle was only influenced by the education he had received, leading him to act so foolishly. Harley had seen many such cases.

Finally, McGonagall called Harley.

"Harley Potter!"

A noisy buzz of discussion erupted in the Great Hall, and everyone's gaze was fixed on Harley.

However, Harley only noticed three of those gazes, and only those three gazes caused her spiritual intuition to react.

Harley ignored those gazes and automatically filtered out the noise, examining the dirty hat.

"So dirty!" Harley muttered, then gritted her teeth and placed the hat on her head. Letting this hat touch her black hair was truly a form of torture.

"I am not dirty," a tiny voice sounded. "I am the cleanest hat in the world!"

A Sealed Artifact of the Spectator Pathway? The thought had just risen in Harley's mind before she suppressed it.

When facing a magical item that might have mind-reading abilities, the best way to respond is to keep one's mind blank. As long as I don't think about anything, your mind-reading is useless!

"Mind-reading?" the tiny voice continued. "No, I don't do that sort of thing. Gryffindor didn't attach Legilimency to me.

I can only sense some shallow thoughts. Well, Miss Harley, we have been dwelling on irrelevant matters for too long; let me see where you are suited to go..."

Harley immediately began to empty her mind, concentrating her spirituality to cover the thoughts of slaughter and destruction in her head.

"Insidious, cunning, very suitable for Slytherin," the hat muttered. "But also very brave, very intelligent, and fond of reading; Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are both suitable for you..."

"So, where should I go?" Harley chimed in at the right moment.

This allowed the other party to feel that they weren't just talking to themselves, making them more interested in continuing.

"I would quite like to let you choose for yourself, but I can't; after all, this is my duty.

Yes, that's it." The Sorting Hat muttered to itself inside Harley's mind.

"Gryffindor!"

The final word was shouted out by the Sorting Hat, and thunderous applause immediately erupted from the Gryffindor long table.

Two boys jumped up to cheer, throwing something into the air, though Harley didn't pay them any mind.

She rose gracefully and returned the hat to Professor McGonagall, while a thin layer of black flames ignited on her hair, incinerating the dust left behind by the hat.

As she walked toward the Gryffindor table, Harley's thoughts were elsewhere. Several gazes from the surroundings were very concerning to her.

Harley sat at the very front of the Gryffindor long table, and after exchanging a few perfunctory words with the people around her, she turned her gaze toward the teachers' table.

A white-haired old man was applauding for her, looking at her with a benevolent expression.

His gaze was exactly one of the three she had sensed earlier; after all, it was the stare of a demigod-level powerhouse.

The spirituality of the Witch Pathway is relatively strong, so it was impossible for Harley not to have noticed.