The Sorting Hat's Judgment

The doors opened, and a black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood before them.

The chatterbox first-years instantly fell silent, like students spotting their homeroom teacher silently standing at the back door during study hall.

Even Hagrid became noticeably more reserved in front of Professor McGonagall.

"The first-years have arrived, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here."

As McGonagall spoke, her gaze kept sweeping through the crowd before finally settling on Silan.

After silently looking away, McGonagall pulled open the doors and led them into the castle.

Before them stood a grand marble staircase leading upstairs. Heavy stone walls surrounded them, and blazing torches illuminated the entire hall.

The mist from the Black Lake clinging to the young wizards gradually dispersed beneath the torchlight.

McGonagall led them into a small room at the other end of the entrance hall.

"First of all, welcome to Hogwarts."

McGonagall smoothly delivered the opening words she used to welcome new students every year.

"The start-of-term feast is about to begin, but before you enter the Great Hall and take your seats, you must first determine which House you will belong to. The Sorting is a very important ceremony..."

McGonagall's gaze passed over the bewildered young wizards as she began introducing the four Houses.

"They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin..."

House crests

After finishing her introduction, McGonagall gave them one final reminder.

"The Sorting ceremony will be held before the entire school. I suggest you straighten yourselves up while you wait and try to look more presentable."

"When they are ready, I will come for you."

Once McGonagall left, the young wizards seemed to have their mute buttons switched off and immediately began chattering again. What interested and excited them most now was the Sorting ceremony.

"How are we sorted? Do we choose for ourselves? Or do the Heads of House choose?"

"I heard we have to take some kind of test, like reciting the names of a thousand herbs or brewing a potion on the spot."

"You're talking about exam questions. I heard everyone gets hit with an Unforgivable Curse during the Sorting ceremony, and only those who survive get to enroll."

"Nonsense! What kind of school are you enrolling in? Azkaban?"

All sorts of guesses about the Sorting ceremony drifted through the room, and the ridiculous rumors made Hermione frown.

"Silan, do you know how the Sorting works? I read Hogwarts: A History, but it didn't mention the Sorting at all."

Who knew how generation after generation of wizards had kept the secret? The first-year Sorting ceremony had remained undiscovered all these years.

Whenever new students were sorted, wizards never tired of using the subject to fool them.

As if there were no other forms of entertainment in the wizarding world.

As for this kind of boring behavior, Silan's response was: I should add some fuel to the fire too.

So he shook his head, pretending to be completely clueless.

"I don't know either, but I think we can ask them."

Silan gestured with his eyes toward the ghosts that had passed through the walls.

The other young wizards were so frightened by the suddenly appearing ghosts that they barely dared breathe, instinctively retreating toward the walls.

Once the idle ghosts spotted these clear-eyed and foolish first-years, they enthusiastically came over to show off their talents, as though they had found new toys.

For instance, they would lift their heads off with both hands, toss them into the air, spin them several hundred degrees, then steadily catch them back on their necks.

Of course, sometimes the heads ended up on backward.

At those times, they would simply twist their heads around one hundred and eighty degrees to set them right again.

At first, the young wizards found these performances terrifying. But after seeing them a few times, they realized that the ghosts were actually very friendly, and that such displays really were rare. They gradually calmed down, and some of the bolder ones even began commenting on the ghosts' performances.

It had to be said that anyone capable of becoming a wizard had an extraordinary ability to accept strange things.

Silan asked a ghost wearing a ruff collar:

"Excuse me, how does Hogwarts sort students? I heard that animals representing each House are summoned from a hat, and then students have to fight them. Whichever one you beat determines your House."

The ghost stared wide-eyed at Silan, and an inexplicable understanding arose between them.

"Oh, yes, yes." The ghost nodded solemnly and even supported his head when it nearly slipped off. "Last year, I personally saw a student get eaten by Gryffindor's lion. Slytherin's venomous snake poisoned several others to death."

Several young wizards who heard this were terrified.

Silan even heard crying and people asking to go home.

He also pretended to be frightened and indicated that he believed it too.

[Silver Tongue: Proficiency +7]

Silan was very satisfied.

Sorry, classmates, but your experience points were simply too tempting.

"Xi-Silan..." Neville's face crumpled as though he was about to cry. "I don't think I can go to Gryffindor anymore. I can't beat a lion either."

Well, he had overdone it and scared even the future Sword Saint.

Hermione's eyes widened beside him. "Do I have to fight a lion too?"

Silan had no choice but to patch things up. "That might not actually be true..."

Yet the moment he said those obvious words of comfort, the contrary young wizards became even more frightened.

[Silver Tongue: Proficiency +9]

Silan: ...

"Ron, you don't seem scared at all," Harry whispered beside him.

"Please, dueling a lion or a venomous snake would already be great. At home, they told me I'd have to fight a Dragon."

"Then I suppose we really should be grateful..."

When McGonagall returned to the room, she found the young wizards looking as listless as Flobberworms that had been squeezed dry of all their slime.

That left McGonagall somewhat puzzled.

Why did this year's young wizards look so wilted? They were not lively at all.

"Remember, the Sorting is a very serious matter. Please remain quiet. Now form a single line and follow me," McGonagall said.

The young wizards began moving dejectedly, lining up and closely following behind Professor McGonagall.

They left the room, crossed the entrance hall, passed through a set of double doors, and entered the magnificent Great Hall.

The entire Great Hall was astonishingly large. Even with four long tables packed with students, it did not feel crowded in the slightest. Luxurious gold plates and goblets sat on the tables, while thousands of candles floating overhead lit the hall brightly.

Through the gaps between the candles, they could see that the ceiling was not made of dull, heavy stone. Instead, it was a night sky filled with rolling clouds and twinkling stars.

Every young wizard who noticed it could not help letting out a cry of admiration.

Hermione whispered, "There's magic on it. It looks exactly like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."

The young wizards continued all the way to the front of the Great Hall before stopping.

The staff table stood atop a raised platform. Dumbledore, dressed in purple robes, sat in the middle, his kind and gentle eyes visible behind half-moon spectacles.

The seat beside him was empty, presumably Professor McGonagall's.

Farther to the side sat Slytherin's Head of House, Severus Snape, whose hair was so greasy and shiny that it was obvious he had not washed it in a long time.

The other two Heads of House, Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout, sat on Dumbledore's other side.

Naturally, Hagrid and the annually replaced Defense Against the Dark Arts professor were also present.

McGonagall placed a four-legged stool before the first-years, then set a patched, filthy-looking pointed wizard's hat on top of it.

Some of the young wizards stared fearfully at the hat, thinking that a lion or venomous snake really might crawl out from inside it.

The Great Hall fell silent.

Then the dirty hat began to wriggle, split open along a wide seam, and started to sing.

Though the song was difficult to describe, the young wizards at least understood that the so-called Sorting ceremony involved wearing this hat.

That made them breathe a sigh of relief.

Though the hat was filthy and ugly, it was still much easier than fighting a lion or venomous snake.

Professor McGonagall held a long piece of parchment and stepped before them, beginning to call out the names for the Sorting.

"Hannah Abbott."

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted.

Hogwarts sorted students according to the alphabetical order of their surnames.

The first letter of Silan's surname, "Prewett," was P, placing him in the same group as Harry Potter.

Therefore, Neville and Hermione were both ahead of him.

Name after name was called, and soon it reached the students whose surnames began with G.

"Hermione Granger."

Hermione quickly glanced at Silan, then nearly ran to the stool and put on the hat.

The Sorting Hat twitched its brim and shouted, "Gryffindor!"

After taking off the hat, Hermione did not immediately walk down the steps. Instead, she threw Silan an astonished look, as though saying, You really were right.

Neville wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and silently encouraged himself.

"Silan's divination is so accurate!"

"I'll definitely be sorted into Gryffindor!"

Even he could feel confidence rising in his heart.

Neville turned to search the crowd for Theodore Nott and found the other boy glaring viciously at him.

He shrank back in fear, but when he saw Silan, a strange courage rose within him. He widened his eyes and glared back at Theodore Nott.

That made Theodore Nott absolutely furious.

This guy, who normally endured everything without protest, actually dared glare at him. It made Theodore deeply unhappy, and he ended up directing his anger toward Silan as well.

It was all this guy's fault!

"Neville Longbottom."

Hearing his name, Neville took a deep breath and nodded at Silan.

"Walk a little slower, Mr. Longbottom."

"Okay."

Following Silan's words, Neville slowly made his way toward the stool.

He looked nervous, but fortunately he did not trip and embarrass himself.

After putting on the Sorting Hat, Neville closed his eyes.

He heard a tiny voice muttering in his ear. "Difficult, truly difficult..."

That made his heart tense, and his hands clenched tightly around his robes in his lap.

He felt a little afraid, but even more nervous.

What if the Sorting Hat discovered he was a coward and assigned him to clean toilets?

Grandma would definitely be heartbroken.

Silan would be embarrassed because of him too.

"Gryffindor... Gryffindor..."

Neville muttered Gryffindor under his breath, trying to encourage himself.

But he could clearly feel his mood sinking to rock bottom. It seemed as though the warmth was being drained from his body bit by bit, leaving his limbs icy cold.

After a long while, just as the other students were beginning to grow impatient, the hat finally shouted:

"Gryffindor!"

Neville could hardly believe his ears.

His body reacted faster than his mind. The icy feeling in his limbs vanished in an instant, replaced by a pleasant warmth that filled him with joy.

He jumped off the stool and ran toward Silan, shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!"

He was so happy that he even forgot to return the hat to Professor McGonagall.

The crowd burst into laughter, leaving him somewhat at a loss.

Silan smiled and pointed at Neville's head. Only then did Neville realize that he had not taken off the hat.

Embarrassed, he ran back and returned the hat to Professor McGonagall.

The young wizards who had witnessed his conflict with Theodore began shouting Nott's name and booing him wave after wave.

Theodore's face alternated between green and white as he glared resentfully at Neville and Silan.

He had not expected Neville to really be sorted into Gryffindor, just as Silan had said. It angered him, but it also made him somewhat relieved that he had not made a bet with Neville.

Otherwise, he would have been even more humiliated.

That made him feel rather pleased with himself again. When it came to being clever, he was still superior after all.

The Sorting continued.

After Harry was called, it was soon Silan's turn.

"Silan Prewett."