Sorting Ceremony

Professor McGonagall briefly recounted what had happened outside the Great Hall to Dumbledore. At the end, she seemed to want to say something else, but Dumbledore stopped her with a wave of his hand.

Professor McGonagall hadn't deliberately lowered her voice or cast any silencing spells, so the professors around Dumbledore had all heard what she said. They looked surprised.

Ilona, not far from Dumbledore, had heard it too. A faint smile touched her lips.

Wentworth, you already understand that it pays to make a name for yourself early, even though no one taught you. You haven't even started school, and you already know how to make an impression on the other first-years. You've done even better than I expected.

Ilona picked up the goblet in front of her and raised it slightly toward Wentworth, then took a sip, looking thoroughly pleased.

"Professor McGonagall, let's begin the Sorting Ceremony first. We can discuss everything else afterward."

Dumbledore spoke after stopping Professor McGonagall with a wave.

Professor McGonagall knew that some matters really weren't suitable for discussion here. She didn't insist, and promptly announced that the Hogwarts Sorting Ceremony was about to begin.

At the announcement, many of the first-years looked nervous. Seeing the anxious faces around him, Wentworth, who already knew what the Sorting Ceremony involved, couldn't help finding it amusing.

He glanced around. Cassandra was the only first-year who seemed relatively calm, though her already fair cheeks had grown even paler.

Up ahead, the Sorting Hat, which had been waiting for a long time, seemed almost impatient.

The old hat in front of them opened a seam and launched into a song to warm up:

"La la la, Hogwarts, la la la..."

As soon as the Sorting Hat began, many of the first-years couldn't help covering their ears. Wentworth was among them.

After what felt like ages, the Sorting Hat finally finished singing. Professor McGonagall stood beside it with a long piece of parchment in her hand. It clearly contained the names of this year's Hogwarts first-years.

As Professor McGonagall called their names, one first-year after another stepped forward, put on the Sorting Hat, and learned where they would live for the next several years.

"Cassandra!"

At Professor McGonagall's call, Cassandra lightly brushed a hand through her long blond hair, then stepped forward with graceful strides.

Though she was only eleven, Wentworth had to admit that the proud girl passing by him already had a graceful figure and stunning beauty.

The moment Cassandra had settled onto the stool and the Sorting Hat touched her head, it shouted:

"Without a doubt, Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table erupted in cheers. After all, what older student didn't like having a pretty younger girl in the house?

Hearing the Sorting Hat's decision, Cassandra let out a long breath and smiled. Then she calmly made her way to the Slytherin table.

As she passed Wentworth, Cassandra kept walking and said:

"I told you I belonged in Slytherin!"

At last, after a long wait, Wentworth finally heard Professor McGonagall call his name.

After hearing Professor McGonagall recount what had happened outside the Great Hall, many of the professors watched Wentworth as he walked toward the Sorting Hat.

Once Wentworth had taken his seat, Professor McGonagall gave him a long look and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Hmm, this is a tricky one. A really tricky one. Let's start by process of elimination. You don't have enough ambition, so we can rule out Slytherin."

"You seem to have the courage to face death. In that case, Gryffindor..."

At that, Wentworth panicked. You're sending me straight into a pit of fire!

Just as the Sorting Hat was about to say "Gryffindor," the Occlumency Wentworth had studied before the start of term came to his aid.

Occlumency not only prevented others from probing his thoughts; once mastered, it even allowed him to construct thoughts at will in his own mind.

Without hesitation, Wentworth imagined that if he went to Gryffindor, he would find an opportunity to claim the Sorting Hat for himself. After all, the Sorting Hat had belonged to Gryffindor, one of Hogwarts' Founders. As a Gryffindor student and an heir recognized by Gryffindor, he had the right to inherit it.

The Sorting Hat caught Wentworth's thoughts, too, and swallowed the rest of its sentence.

The Sorting Hat muttered in a somewhat aggrieved voice:

"How could anyone come up with such a brazen idea?! I've never met a student so outrageously audacious. I think you should be sorted into Azkaban!"

The Sorting Hat spoke softly, as though afraid of angering Wentworth. As an intelligent magical object, it actually felt that Wentworth might really do it!

Only Wentworth and McGonagall heard what the Sorting Hat said, and both of them froze. To everyone else, the hat merely seemed to be muttering something and taking an unusually long time to decide.

Professor McGonagall was startled by the Sorting Hat's words, but she hadn't forgotten her duties. She gave a quiet cough from beside him.

Knowing it couldn't delay any longer, the Sorting Hat spoke with some hesitation, almost as though asking for permission:

"Let me think. I know! How about Hufflepuff? I think Hufflepuff is the best fit for you. Hufflepuff!"

This time, the Sorting Hat felt no objection from Wentworth. With a sigh of relief, it shouted the name of Hufflepuff.

At the name of their house, the Hufflepuff table erupted in cheers as well. One person cheered louder than anyone else. Wentworth followed the sound and saw Cedric.

After Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat off his head, Wentworth headed straight for the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric had said something to the student beside him, and somehow managed to save a seat for Wentworth next to him.

When Wentworth reached him, Cedric stood up and gave him a hug. Then the two of them sat down together.

"I really didn't expect you to end up in Hufflepuff!"

Cedric still couldn't quite believe it.

Wentworth, however, replied with a broad smile:

"Hufflepuff has always been my dream!"

Wentworth's words earned approving looks from the Hufflepuff students around him.

"Why? Most first-years want to go to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and plenty of pure-blood wizards dream of Slytherin. Hardly any first-years want to come to Hufflepuff."

Cedric asked, puzzled.

"Because it's close to the kitchens!"

Wentworth replied as though it were obvious.