Sorting Hat

A line of nervous young witches and wizards followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall.

It was truly a magical, magnificent, and splendid place. Students from the other years were already seated around four long tables, while thousands of candles floating in midair illuminated the dining hall from above. Glittering gold plates and goblets sat upon the four tables. Another long table stood on the raised platform at the front of the hall, reserved for the teachers.

Most astonishing and magical of all was the ceiling. Dots of starlight twinkled across the velvety black canopy, making it look exactly like a tranquil night sky.

Professor McGonagall gently placed a four-legged stool before the first-year students, then set a pointed wizard's hat on top of it. The hat was patched, worn old, and quite filthy. Suddenly, it opened its mouth and began to sing, leaving all the new students stunned.

Professor McGonagall held a roll of parchment. Whenever she called a name, the corresponding child sat on the four-legged stool, and the hat would announce, quickly or slowly, which house they had been assigned to. Applause occasionally erupted from the long tables in the Great Hall.

"Allen Harris." Not long after Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor, Allen walked steadily toward the four-legged stool. He was confident that he could deceive this hat that claimed to have a mind of its own.

When the filthy hat was placed over Allen's soft blond hair, he adjusted it uncomfortably, trying his best not to let it touch the skin of his face.

"Hmm, very talented. I can sense magic surging from within you, something extremely rare in a young wizard your age. You are calm and steady, not impetuous. You are neither anxious to learn which house you will be sorted into nor eager to voice your own opinions. You are not overly keen on wielding power. Which house should I place you in?"

"Oh? You are devoted to accumulating knowledge and pursuing wisdom. You long to explore the unknown world and roam the sea of knowledge. Then you should be sorted into—"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Polite applause sounded throughout the Great Hall. As Allen walked toward his house's long table, he felt as though a burden had been lifted. He had successfully deceived the Sorting Hat and kept it from discovering the secret of his rebirth.

Flag was sorted into Gryffindor, which did not surprise Allen. Flag might not have been especially clever, but he had never lacked courage or a sense of justice. Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin and looked particularly satisfied. Then came—Harry!

Whispers spread throughout the Great Hall as heads turned in every direction. Everyone wanted to see Harry Potter, the Legend who had defeated You-Know-Who. Harry looked incredibly nervous. He sat on the stool with his eyes shut tight, both hands gripping its edge, his lips constantly muttering. He remained on the stool for a long time before the hat finally shouted—Gryffindor. Cheers from the Gryffindor table resounded through the entire Great Hall. They all rushed to shake Harry's hand, proud to do so.

Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, and his brothers clapped wildly in delight.

Allen looked toward the neighboring table. Harry and Flag were both gazing at him with regret on their faces, and Allen felt somewhat moved. People were always saddened by parting, but when they reunited, they would surely be especially joyful. If they stayed together for too long, they would instead be prone to friction and conflict. Perhaps that was what people meant by distance making the heart grow fonder.

"Do you know Harry Potter over there?" A lazy voice suddenly sounded beside him.

"Yes." Allen did not explain further. He withdrew his gaze from Harry and the others, then turned around.

The owner of the voice was a boy with brown hair, fair skin, and several mischievous freckles scattered across his cheeks. Heavy dark circles hung beneath his eyes.

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Such heavy dark circles were indeed strange on an energetic young boy. Allen could not help asking.

"Yes, I can never get enough sleep." The boy's brown eyes were filled with exhaustion, but also sincerity.

"My name is Allen Harris. Nice to meet you." Allen held out his hand.

"My name is Edward, Edward Fox." Edward looked as though he desperately needed a bed, and his voice drifted weakly.

At that moment, Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. He beamed at the students and spread his arms wide, as though nothing could have made him happier than seeing them gathered together. "Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for the start of a new school year! Before the feast begins, I would like to say a few words. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down. Everyone applauded and cheered. Unlike the students from the other houses, who whispered among themselves, the Ravenclaw students seemed to understand. Allen could not help sighing. There might not have been many people in this house, but they all seemed talented and broadly knowledgeable.

At that moment, Allen noticed Edward's eyes suddenly widen. The long table before them was covered with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steaks, boiled potatoes, book-roasted potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, pea shoots, carrot, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint hard candies.

The abundance of food instantly enlivened the atmosphere. Everyone ate and drank merrily. Perhaps the relaxation after all that tension sharpened his appetite, because Allen ate far more than he normally did. At last, even the Pudding disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore stood once more. The dining hall fell silent again. "Now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill, I have a few more words to say. At the beginning of term, I would like to remind everyone of a few matters requiring attention..."

In the end, everyone sang the school song in a scattered, disorganized fashion, then lined up and left the Great Hall one after another.

Allen, full and satisfied, eagerly hoped that Ravenclaw's dormitory would be very comfortable.