Retracing the Founder's Path

"Summoning Charm!" Hermione answered before anyone else could. "Didn't I tell you about it before? When you wanted to turn the rat... Scabbers yellow, remember?"

"There was something wrong with that spell, I'm serious..." Ron sounded rather listless. "Can we not bring that up?"

Harry had been about to say something, but when he saw how strange Ron looked, he shut his mouth too.

Hermione did the same, lowering her head with a dispirited look.

Wizet was the one most in his element. He maintained the Guardian Meditation Method, and with the purest state of mind, fully enjoyed this journey across the Black Lake.

A cool breeze blew, raising layer after layer of ripples on the lake.

The moon in the night sky was like a curved blade, its light spilling onto the lake and gilding the rippling surface with radiance. The shimmering waves looked like an exquisitely beautiful oil painting.

There were many creatures in the Black Lake. Some surfaced and looked them over with curious gazes.

Before they knew it, the boat passed through a curtain of ivy and gently tapped against the lakeshore.

Hagrid walked at the very front with a lantern, leading the children through a pitch-black tunnel to a place like a boathouse.

From here onward, they could finally see traces of man-made excavation.

They followed a path paved with small pebbles upward, then climbed a long flight of stone steps, walked into a broad courtyard, and finally arrived before the doors of Hogwarts Castle.

During the brief rest, although the children were panting, they did not stay idle, and soon began chatting and laughing again.

Thud, thud, thud!

Hagrid raised a fist like a sandbag and pounded heavily on the oak door.

The great doors slowly opened. Professor McGonagall stood before them, her tall figure and stern expression instantly making the children's laughter die down.

Hagrid walked to the door. "Professor McGonagall, I've brought the first-years!"

"Thank you, Hagrid." Professor McGonagall nodded lightly and swept her gaze over the children. "Follow me. The start-of-term feast is about to begin."

The hall inside the doors was extremely spacious, with a luxurious marble staircase standing in the center.

The group stepped onto the marble staircase, turned into a corridor to the side, and entered a small room with a fireplace.

The flames in the fireplace burned brightly, driving away the chill clinging to the children.

At the far end of the room was another door, and noisy voices came through the crack.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall stood before that door. "Before you enter the Great Hall, you must undergo a ceremony—the Sorting Ceremony."

"Your House will be equivalent to your home at Hogwarts. You will study with your Housemates, live together, and spend your free time in the same common room."

"Therefore, this ceremony is extremely important, as it determines which House you belong to. After the ceremony, you will become a member of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin."

"Every House has a glorious past and has produced countless outstanding wizards. Your performance in daily life and study will determine the awarding of the House Cup at the end of the year."

"This is the highest honor you can receive at school. No matter which House you are sorted into, I hope you can bring glory to your House..."

She suddenly lifted her head and squared her shoulders, giving off an aura of authority without anger. "Wait here for a moment. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes."

"The entire school will attend your Sorting Ceremony. I hope you can use these few minutes to compose yourselves properly and present yourselves in your best state!"

She turned and pulled open the door, then looked back to add, "Once the stage over there is ready, I will come and fetch you. Please keep quiet! Compose yourselves!"

There was no doubt that Professor McGonagall's string of remarks, coupled with her stern expression, plunged the children into an indescribable tension.

They looked at one another, but all they could see was the nervousness showing on each other's faces. The cheerful atmosphere of joking and laughter was gone.

"We might have to fight giants! Or fire dragons!" Ron's tone was unusually certain. "I didn't believe what Fred and the others said before, but now it looks like... they were telling the truth!"

"Wizet, aren't you nervous?" Harry breathed on his glasses and clumsily wiped them. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to happen."

"No." Wizet shook his head lightly. "Just stay calm. That's also a way of adjusting."

Perhaps with the help of the Guardian Meditation Method, he detected a trace of suppressed amusement in Professor McGonagall's stern tone.

Coupled with what Cho Chang had once said, he felt no worry at all about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony.

Wizet's calm words seemed to have a kind of magic, making those who heard him speak less nervous.

Using the brief time to rest, Wizet walked once around the room, taking in everything there.

A trace of understanding arose.

He released the Magic Eye and absorbed the ancient magical power contained in the room.

That power turned into an ink-like silver-blue liquid and was stored away by Notebook.

The ancient magical power from a single room alone was not enough to continue turning to a new page, which was also within Wizet's expectations.

At the same time, a small bright area appeared on the map inside Notebook.

The power contained in this room was not much, not enough to let the Magic Eye grow.

However, Wizet still summarized one insight: only by continuing to explore Hogwarts Castle could he obtain more ancient magical power.

"Ghosts! There are ghosts coming out of the wall! It's haunted!"

The scream drew the children's attention, and they all looked toward the wall at the same time.

However, the attention of these ghosts was not on them, but on a certain matter they were discussing intensely.

Only when a ghost who looked like a friar floated down did another burst of commotion break out.

"You may call me the Fat Friar," the ghost said cheerfully. "The Sorting Ceremony... I do hope you come to Hufflepuff. That is my house."

As soon as those words came out, the tension swept back in and surged into the children's hearts.

Professor McGonagall returned to the room at just the right moment and said loudly, "Form a single line and follow me. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin!"

The Great Hall was steeped in magic. The lofty ceiling seemed transparent, revealing a brilliant starry sky.

Beneath the stars were thousands upon thousands of candles. They floated in midair, yet not a single drop of wax fell, nor did they give off even a wisp of black smoke. They were marvelous products of magic.

As a top student who had memorized her textbooks, Hermione had a very interesting way of easing her nerves: she recited long passages about the ceiling.

"The ceiling has been enchanted... you can see the sky outside... it can also change with the weather... from Hogwarts: A History..."

Professor McGonagall brought over a four-legged stool, then placed a pointed hat on it.

The pointed hat looked filthy and was covered in patches. It drooped on the stool, yet somehow stood out all the more.

Wizet guessed half-jokingly, "Could it be that we're supposed to use Reparo to restore this hat to how it was?"

"I haven't practiced that spell!" Hermione sounded as if she was about to cry. "What should I do?"

Just then, however, the pointed hat split open on its own, and from the slit came a "song" like a saw rasping through wood.

Putting aside the hat's unbearably awful singing, Wizet could still make out quite a few interesting details in the tune.

For example, this hat was the one that carried out the Sorting Ceremony. As long as someone put it on, it could assign them to the house best suited to them;

For example, entering Gryffindor required courage, Hufflepuff valued integrity and loyalty, Ravenclaw liked sharp-minded students, and Slytherin favored those who would stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

When the song ended, Professor McGonagall unrolled a parchment scroll.

"When I call your name, come and sit on the stool, then put on the Sorting Hat. Hannah Abbott!"