The Expected Sorting

"You'd be a good fit for Ravenclaw..."

"You'd also be a good fit for Hufflepuff..."

"But I can't do that, because you love knowledge for the sake of becoming stronger, your outward friendliness is also a way to protect yourself, and the freedom you yearn for isn't about escaping this world..."

"You understand what I mean, don't you, child?"

"Huh?" Breeze looked bewildered. According to the Sorting Hat, did that mean he was going to Slytherin?

"Yes, child. I'm sorry, but I can't place you in the perfect house... Of course, you don't really belong in Slytherin as it is today. Perhaps Slytherin as it was a thousand years ago would have been your choice... Back then, Slytherin was a house of noble wizards."

Breeze's Sorting took a long time, drawing everyone's attention.

"Slytherin!"

The professors said nothing, but after thinking for a moment, Dumbledore's eyes flashed with concern. Snape, meanwhile, paid no attention to Slytherin. His gaze had fallen on Harry Potter again, and he couldn't spare a thought for anything else just then.

Draco Malfoy's face reddened as if he'd swallowed a fly. "Some guy who wanted Ravenclaw ended up in Slytherin. Oh, and he's a Muggle-born, too. That hat must be mad. It should be burned. Damn it!"

The Slytherins around him heard that, and their expressions turned unfriendly as well. Those who had been about to applaud lowered their hands, and some even looked with hostility at Breeze as he walked toward their table. Pansy Parkinson in particular didn't like him one bit, even though he was very handsome.

Meanwhile, some students from the other houses, especially the girls, looked disappointed that such a handsome younger student had been sorted into Slytherin.

A strange atmosphere settled over the Great Hall. Only a few scattered claps came from the other three houses, welcoming Breeze to Hogwarts, while not a single Slytherin applauded. No, that wasn't quite true.

"Clap, clap, clap..."

It was Draco Malfoy. As Breeze passed him, Draco said softly, "Welcome, little Raven. Tsk, you should sit at the very end. That Mudblood smell of yours will put us off our food."

Little Raven. Yes, Breeze, who had said he wanted to be in Ravenclaw, had already been dubbed a Ravenclaw student. But Slytherin was the domain of Dark Wizards, after all. Breeze had read the books and some reports; most Dark Wizards had graduated from Slytherin.

For example, the second Dark Lord—You-Know-Who.

Breeze sat expressionlessly at the back of the Slytherin table, not looking at the worried faces of his friends. He wondered how he could get through seven years at Slytherin safely and graduate without trouble. Slytherin had such a terrible reputation, after all.

"Harry Potter!"

Perfect. Now nobody was paying attention to Breeze, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Being watched by too many people made him uncomfortable.

A buzz rose around him. After all, this was Harry Potter. Many young wizards had grown up hearing stories about him, even though he was still a child himself.

At the call, Harry Potter stepped forward, gathered his courage, and put on the Sorting Hat. He seemed to be silently repeating something over and over... The hat appeared to think for a long time before announcing, "Gryffindor!"

"Woohoo!" The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers.

Harry Potter breathed a sigh of relief, happily took off the hat, and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

Next came Ron Weasley. The redhead joined Gryffindor as expected, which made Hermione beside him grit her teeth. Upset, she switched seats with someone nearby just to get farther away from Ron. His brothers were all delighted, though; even the meticulous Percy came over to congratulate him.

McGonagall could only look at those brilliant red locks with exasperation. The two red-haired twins were already enough to give her a headache. McGonagall was Gryffindor's Head of House, while the greasy-haired man at the High Table was Slytherin's Head of House. That made Breeze, who wasn't very fond of Potions, feel even worse.

Snape, meanwhile, looked at Harry, his eyes filled with complicated emotions. Many people knew that Snape had once worked for You-Know-Who, but Dumbledore had protected him. Back then, however, Snape had gone to Dumbledore for Harry's mother, Lily, hoping Dumbledore could save her. But...

Lily had died, leaving behind only her child with James Potter—Harry Potter. It was all his fault!

The pain kept Snape from looking at Harry again. Those eyes looked far too much like Lily's. But apart from the eyes, everything else looked too much like James, the man Snape had hated all his life!

Snape took a sip of wine and turned away, only to catch a fleeting, complicated look in Dumbledore's eyes. Following his gaze, Snape saw Breeze with his head lowered.

Just then, Dumbledore stood up, his face alight with joy, and spread his arms wide. "Welcome!"

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. They are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you."

After Dumbledore sat down, warm applause filled the hall, and a feast appeared on the tables. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steaks, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, and ketchup. For some strange reason, there were also peppermint humbugs.

Beside Snape, a man whose head was wrapped in a turban like a large Indian hat stammered softly, "P-perhaps I'll feel h-honored to have taught the S-Savior."

Snape snorted through his nose and looked at him. In a long, drawn-out voice, he said coldly and quietly, "Perhaps you should worry about whether you'll live through the year instead of fretting over the Savior, Professor Quirrell."

Professor Quirrell gave an awkward smile, unsure how to answer. He simply lowered his head and ate.

Breeze was hungry, so he quietly began enjoying the feast. He'd deal with everything else when it came up. He didn't think any of it was a big deal, and he couldn't be bothered to plan for every possibility. Things were bad enough already. Everyone around him, new students and old alike, avoided him. Some even... hated him.

Suddenly, ghosts appeared all around them, but nobody seemed to mind—or rather, the Slytherins didn't. They maintained their manners at all times, which had a lot to do with their upbringing. They must have known there were ghosts at Hogwarts, and after seeing one earlier, they were hardly likely to behave rudely.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, the food vanished amid the conversation, and the dishes became spotless, because dessert was about to appear.

This time, people began chatting. Most of the young wizards who had just joined Slytherin talked about their family backgrounds, while the older Slytherins discussed the new students. But mostly, they talked about Harry Potter. Of course, they didn't dare discuss You-Know-Who, especially in a place like this.

Compared with the younger wizards, the older Slytherins were more reserved, seemed better-mannered, and were more calculating and composed. At least, few of them looked at Breeze with hostility. Most simply ignored him.

At most, they found his presence an eyesore.

Just then, a golden goblet clinked. It was Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stood up again and addressed the students. "Oh, now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill, I have a few more things to say. At the start of term, I'd like to remind you all of a few things. First-years, take note: the forest on the school grounds is forbidden to all students. Some of our older students should remember that as well."

Dumbledore looked toward the Weasley Twins. Those two were always a handful.

"Also, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you not to use magic in the corridors between classes."

"Quidditch tryouts will take place during the second week of term. Anyone who wishes to try out for their house team should contact Madam Hooch."

"Finally, I must tell you that anyone who does not wish to suffer an unfortunate and painful death should not enter the corridor on the right-hand side of the fourth floor."

"Now, before you go to bed, let's all sing the school song!" Dumbledore announced loudly. He gave his wand a light flick, and a long golden ribbon streamed from it, twisting and curling like a snake above the tables as lines of words appeared upon it.

"Everyone choose a tune you like," Dumbledore said. "Ready, sing!"

After they had sung the school song, the prefects led everyone back to their house common rooms.

The Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeons on the lower ground floor.

"Why are they in the dungeons? It's like we're prisoners," Breeze murmured. He trailed along at the back, having recovered from his shock. He wasn't thinking of changing houses, though he'd never heard of Hogwarts allowing students to switch houses.

But looking at it another way, unexpected things could be interesting, too.

"I can't always get everything I want."

The procession ahead came to a stop. The Slytherin prefect was speaking to the new arrivals—or, more accurately, the young wizards.

"The password is 'Pure-blood.' It changes once a week unless there are special circumstances, so don't forget it."

At the password, the door opened. Breeze quietly entered the common room, and some people finally stopped hiding their hostility toward him.

"Ahem. This is Slytherin. I hope you'll remember our rules."

A tall blonde girl stepped forward and approached the new students. This put a stop to some younger students' plans to give Breeze trouble.

"All right, I'm Jennifer Carrow, a fifth-year Slytherin prefect. I won't go on with a lot of unnecessary explanations; everything is written in the Slytherin rules on the wall. But remember this: Slytherin values strength and status. What kind of strength suits what kind of status, and what kind of status calls for what kind of actions—that's for you to figure out."

"As for the rest, our Head of House, Mr. Severus Snape, will explain it to you shortly."

When she had finished, she stepped aside. Just then, the door suddenly opened, and a tall man in black robes walked in. Looking at his shoulder-length, greasy black hair and oversized robes, Breeze couldn't help thinking of a greasy old bat.

"I think..." Snape stopped in front of a group of first-years. He first glanced at Malfoy, who stood at the front with his chin held arrogantly high, and nodded. Then he looked over the rest of them. His oppressive presence seemed to make the room colder, and everyone fell silent, too afraid to breathe. The atmosphere was stifling.

When his gaze passed over Breeze in the far corner, he paused...

Thank you for your understanding. Everything will be explained later in the story.

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