Though Glen felt a little disappointed, he could understand.
After all, if they really expected first-years who hadn't even started school yet to fight a troll,
then probably fewer than ten students would make it to their second year alive.
Thinking this, Glen turned his attention back to the Sorting.
One by one, Professor McGonagall called the new students by the first letter of their surnames, and the Sorting Hat announced which house they belonged to.
Some were sorted almost as soon as their bottoms touched the stool, while others had to sit there for quite a while before the Sorting Hat could decide.
Hermione Granger, whose name had just been called, had sat there for nearly a full minute before the Sorting Hat decided to place her in Gryffindor.
"Glen Howard." After Hermione happily walked down, Professor McGonagall called his name.
Harry and Ron looked at him nervously.
"Mate, may Merlin bless you. Just don't end up in Slytherin."
Since Voldemort had once been in that house, and because of Malfoy's behavior, they didn't have a very good impression of Slytherin.
Under the curious gazes of the other first-years, Glen stepped forward.
"Please sit," Professor McGonagall said, holding the old hat.
Glen bowed politely, then nodded and sat down.
As footsteps sounded behind him, Professor McGonagall lowered the old hat onto his head, blocking his view.
"Huh? Why is it so dark?" the Sorting Hat said in a puzzled voice.
"Is something wrong?"
"...There's nothing wrong now. Maybe the old hat's just too old."
Hearing this, Glen tucked the wand hidden in his sleeve even farther out of sight.
He didn't have any particular preference about which house he joined.
He'd simply sealed away some of his past memories as a precaution.
Otherwise, while everyone was still being sorted, the old hat might suddenly yell, "Azkaban!" and leave him in a very awkward position.
Glen was well aware of that possibility.
"All right, it was just a little mishap. Let's get back to sorting. Let me see... hmm... hmm? What year are you in again?" During the unusually long sorting, the Sorting Hat suddenly asked him out of the blue.
"I'm a first-year."
"Oh! The old hat thought its memory had gone funny. Never mind, as long as you're not in fifth year," the Sorting Hat muttered.
Perhaps it didn't want Glen to ask questions, or to linger on the subject, because it immediately started talking to itself again. "You already have your own likes and dislikes, opinions, and hopes for the world... You're more mature than the others... but you still have a taste for fun... Difficult... very difficult."
It was clear that the Sorting Hat was deeply conflicted about which house Glen belonged in.
It was trying to decide whether his qualities were closer to the bravery of Gryffindor, the ambition of Slytherin, the thirst for knowledge of Ravenclaw, or the loyalty and hard work of Hufflepuff.
Honestly, Glen felt that this kind of sorting, putting a hat on someone and labeling them, was already somewhat outdated in the modern world.
After all, neither children nor adults could be summed up with a simple label.
Take Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister for Magic and the highest-ranking official in the British Wizarding World.
He could never have reached the heights of power without ambition far beyond that of ordinary people.
But which house had he been in while studying at Hogwarts?
Hufflepuff.
So although the Sorting Hat had its uses, Glen had never believed it could determine a wizard's future.
"Strange, very strange... It seems like you'd fit into any of the houses... And you don't seem to have any preference at all?" the Sorting Hat asked suspiciously.
Usually, new students who heard it sing had their own ideas about which house they wanted.
"Oh, I know! You weren't listening to my song earlier, were you? Would you like me to sing it again?"
"I refuse," Glen answered without a moment's hesitation.
He respected Hogwarts' sorting tradition, which had been in place since the school opened, but when it came to listening to the Sorting Hat sing a second time, Glen wouldn't budge an inch.
"But you have to go into a house... How about this? Since I think your qualities would suit any of them, why don't you pick one yourself?" the Sorting Hat said helplessly.
It couldn't just keep dragging this out, or people would start doubting its professional abilities!
Hearing this, Glen briefly considered the four houses.
Gryffindor, the house of courage, was a good choice. Its members could be a bit reckless at times, but they were good people, full of a sense of justice and willing to stand up against unfairness. If a criminal gang were right in front of them, they'd genuinely dare to go take it down single-handedly, even as students.
Ravenclaw, the house of wisdom, wasn't bad either. Honestly, it was one of Glen's strengths. He'd solved at least a thousand puzzles, and even the riddles of Merlin himself... Ahem, the greatest wizard in history—Glen had solved nearly a hundred of those.
As for hardworking Hufflepuff, Glen's strongest impression was that its dormitory was close to the kitchens... Ahem, that its students were much loved by Fantastic Beasts. He'd even rescued a dragon alongside a Hufflepuff student once!
But being close to the kitchens really was a major advantage. If nothing else came up, that alone was enough to make Glen choose Hufflepuff over the other houses.
As for Slytherin... Well, it didn't seem to have any particular advantages. Ron had mentioned that Voldemort used to be in that house, which meant it was bound to produce a lot of dark wizards.
At that thought, Glen shook his head with a laugh.
It wasn't as if he were some bloodthirsty Dark Lord.
At least, when he'd transferred in, the term hadn't been invented yet...
Perhaps because the sorting was taking so long—even longer than Hermione's had—the new students below began whispering among themselves.
The loudest of them all was Draco Malfoy.
He was doing his utmost to spread rumors about Glen Howard.
He said that as soon as the Sorting Hat assigned Glen to a house, that house would lose a full ten points before the school year had even officially begun!
The first-years who had already been sorted worried that Glen might end up in their house, but they hadn't noticed that the older students, who had already spent some time at Hogwarts, didn't care about losing a measly ten points.
After all, sometimes you could lose those ten points just by saying the wrong thing in class, so what they really wanted to know was when dinner would be served.
There were exceptions, of course: Fred and George, the twins from Gryffindor.
But they weren't worried that Glen's arrival would cost them ten points. They were thinking about how to pull the biggest prank possible while costing Gryffindor the fewest points in the new school year.
"Don't worry, Glen won't be sorted into Slytherin. I think he'll definitely end up in Gryffindor. I've never met anyone braver than him," Ron whispered, speaking both to Harry beside him and to himself.
Harry said nothing.
But remembering the cart race before they reached the station, Glen feeding Malfoy, and the debate just now, he had to admit that he'd never met another kid their age who was braver.
Just then, the Sorting Hat finally made its decision.
"Slytherin!"
At the same time, the smile froze on Malfoy's face.
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