Harry had considered shouting, "Super-duper, I love you!" and "This is Lily Potter's Rage!" then using the [Love Charm Power] he'd just begun to sense to punch Quirrell.
But Voldemort wasn't here now.
And the Dogskin Book hadn't triggered a quest.
"Hannah Abbott!" Professor McGonagall hurriedly called the names, ignoring the tradition of having the Sorting Hat sing the Sorting Song. "You can sing after the sorting!"
The little girl with twin braids, who'd nearly cried earlier because she couldn't cast a spell, hurried out of line and put on the Sorting Hat.
"Hufflepuff!"
She trotted over to the second table on the right.
The Great Hall's layout was close to the one in the movies: from left to right, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw.
Not like in the original books: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff.
So this is how they raise poisonous creatures—make the rival Houses sit next to each other.
Harry grumbled to himself.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley!" "Hufflepuff!"
The curly-haired boy who looked clever enough to have invented the Sunlight Charm took off the hat, looking a little disappointed.
"Hermione Granger!" "Gryffindor!"
Ron staggered, suddenly wondering if he should just go to Hufflepuff instead.
"Neville Longbottom!" "Gryffindor!"
"Draco Malfoy!"
The Sorting Hat fell silent on Draco's head for nearly a minute before finally shrieking, "Slytherin!"
He trotted over to Crabbe and Goyle, choosing a secluded seat toward the back.
Almost every Slytherin student stared at him, their malice undisguised.
"Harry Potter!"
Potter's name came fairly late in the alphabet. Only Harry and a Black boy named Blaise Zabini were left.
Everyone seemed to think it only made sense. The last ones called should be near the end.
"James!"
A howl of grief came from the High Table.
The man who emerged through a concealed door behind it was handsome, dressed in exquisite finery, and looked as though he'd only just recovered from a long illness. Gray-white hair fell to his shoulders.
A pretty young woman with pink hair followed behind him.
Snape shot to his feet, undisguised hatred blazing in his eyes.
"Sirius Black!"
"Snivellus!"
For a moment, Snape looked ready to draw his wand and cast a spell.
But Sirius had already drawn his first.
"What's that Death Eater doing here?"
"Sirius," Dumbledore said, flicking his hand. The wand flew out of Sirius's grasp. "Severus is on our side."
"He's a spy, an informant? Like that traitor Peter Pettigrew? Only he's on our side?" Sirius stared in utter shock, as if he'd just seen Voldemort dancing ballet in a dress.
Snape's face turned livid, but he said nothing.
Harry knew Snape would probably rather be thought a Death Eater. But because of the plan, he could only accept his role as a spy on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix.
"Harry, I'm your godfather. You must know that by now!" Only then did Sirius notice the Sorting Hat. "Sorry, I didn't know you were being sorted."
"It's not too late."
Harry stepped forward and put on the Sorting Hat.
Its wide brim didn't cover half his face like it did for everyone else, so he could see the excitement and curiosity in the students' eyes at all four long tables.
He could also feel a tingling sensation from the top of his head, and cooperatively loosened some of his mental restraints.
The Sorting Hat's voice sounded in his mind.
Occlumency? No, something even more advanced.
You've got a gift. You'd do well in any of the four Houses.
You'd succeed no matter which one you chose.
Slytherin, then? Is that settled?
Setting things right?
Wait... There's a present I want to give you. A present from a thousand years ago.
You've always been worthy of it.
"Slytherin!"
Almost everyone leapt to their feet.
Sirius hadn't even finished shouting, "No!" when Harry pulled a dazzling ruby... no, a silver-bright sword set with one from the Sorting Hat.
"Gryffindor!" "Gryffindor!"...
Students from the other three Houses all began shouting.
"That's the Sword of Gryffindor! Only a true Gryffindor can pull it out!"
Sirius rushed up to Dumbledore, jumping around beneath the High Table.
"Godric Gryffindor wants his true heir placed in Slytherin," the Sorting Hat said.
The Great Hall fell utterly silent.
"No! This is an insult to Slytherin!" Marcus, who hadn't taken a punch from Harry and had slept through the whole ride, stood up and roared. "We don't welcome him!"
He turned around, only to find most of the Slytherins nodding, their eyes fixed on the table.
"You—!"
Harry was speechless. What a bunch of cowards. If they don't dare fight back, I'll lose my reward, won't I?
"If that is Godric Gryffindor's will..." Dumbledore began.
But Sirius bellowed, "That filthy House doesn't deserve Harry! Dumbledore, you can't!"
"Actually, Dumbledore can." Snape, who'd looked as though he'd just eaten a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean that tasted like boogers when he heard Harry's sorting result, finally smiled with delight.
Sirius's pain was his joy!
The news that Harry Potter, the true Gryffindor and the Star of Salvation, had been sorted into Slytherin was so shocking that nobody cared about the Sorting Hat's new song, Tonks announcing she was joining Hogwarts as a School Auror, or Sirius taking a job at Hogwarts on the spot.
Even the delicious food made from Hufflepuff recipes, untouched by industrial contamination, seemed to lose its appeal and taste like sawdust.
A wide space was left open on Harry's left.
Only Draco sat snugly beside him, occasionally taunting Marcus Flint and the others with triumphant glares.
"Harry, why don't you come sit over here?" Ron called from the next table, pointing to the empty space they'd saved for Harry.
The other Gryffindors nodded along.
Even Percy, a stickler for the rules, couldn't help leaving his seat and coming over to invite Harry himself.
"Sorry, Percy Weasley. Harry Potter belongs with us."
A tall figure stepped in front of Percy.
She was a spirited girl with shoulder-length light-brown hair—Slytherin prefect Gemma Farley.
She went straight to the seat on Harry's left and held out her hand.
It was fair and slender, with neatly trimmed nails, each a healthy shade of pink.
"On behalf of Slytherin, I welcome you."
"You represent Slytherin?" Harry's manner was gentle, but his words were forceful. "Now that I'm in Slytherin, I'm the only one who can represent it."
"Nicely done!" Percy applauded.
Hermione, who'd been watching closely, was thrilled too.
Gemma's smile froze. She hadn't expected her charm to fail on an eleven-year-old boy.
"I'm the prefect, aren't I?" she asked, sounding a little unsure.
"The rules and the professors' appointment made you prefect. It has nothing to do with me."
Harry swallowed a chunk of steak, like a lion tearing into its prey.
"I'm not someone you can control."
He didn't need a lion lurking in his eyes. He was the king of beasts.
Other than the Dogskin Book, there was no one in this world before whom he needed to lower his gaze.
Before you continue