A Familiar Scene?

Upon hearing Silan's name, Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a few brief words.

"Professor Snape, do you know anything about this child?"

"I don't." Snape stared intently at Silan. "Professor McGonagall is responsible for him. All I know is that he had been living in an orphanage."

At that, concern showed in Dumbledore's eyes as he looked at Silan.

He had not expected Prewett to have left descendants behind.

The other professors changed expression as well upon hearing the surname "Prewett," leaning together and whispering among themselves.

"Prewett? That Prewett?"

"It's been so many years since we last saw a Prewett."

"Oh, heavens, this is unbelievable..."

Even George and Fred, seated at the Gryffindor table, stared at Silan in shock.

Though they were usually rather frivolous, they were highly sensitive to the surname "Prewett."

The Prewetts were not only one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but also their mother's original family name.

In other words, the Weasley family and the Prewett family had been related by marriage since their parents' generation.

Fabian Prewett and Gideon Prewett, who had died in the wizarding war, were the twins' maternal uncles.

"Fred."

"George."

The two called each other's names. After exchanging a glance, they spoke in unison. "He can't be our uncle's son, can he?"

"Then he'd be our cousin," George said.

"But we never heard that Uncle had children. Mum never mentioned it," Fred added.

"I think we should write home and ask."

Ron, seated beside Harry, was equally surprised. His gaze toward Silan was full of uncertainty and confusion.

Seeing the look on his face, Harry nudged him with an elbow and asked quietly,

"Do you know him?"

"No, but I know the Prewett surname. That's my uncle's family."

"Which house do you think he'll be sorted into?"

"Gryffindor, probably. Both my uncles were Gryffindors, and almost every Prewett was a Gryffindor. Even my mum."

Hermione, beside them, had perked up the moment she heard Silan's name, hoping he would be sorted into Gryffindor.

At the teachers' table, Hagrid said to McGonagall, "Professor McGonagall, looks like another one's joining Gryffindor."

McGonagall looked pleased as she watched Silan approach her.

Although there was no concrete evidence yet, she had already decided in her heart that Silan was Fabian's son.

The Prewetts had always been Gryffindors. There was no question about that.

Silan first bowed toward the teachers' table, then thanked McGonagall, who was presiding over the Sorting ceremony.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

His polite and elegant bearing pleased McGonagall even more.

Look at him. He was practically a model student.

Gryffindor needed students like him.

With him there, Gryffindor would surely earn plenty of points and put an end to Slytherin's seven-year House Cup streak.

At that thought, McGonagall's usually stern face softened. She even took the initiative to brush the dust off the Sorting Hat.

"Come on, child. Don't be nervous."

Silan sat on the three-legged stool and put on the Sorting Hat.

McGonagall prayed that the Sorting Hat would place Silan in Gryffindor, so she failed to notice Dumbledore behind her becoming somewhat hesitant.

The moment the Sorting Hat touched Silan's head, its brim and pointed tip suddenly stretched straight.

"Ha! Prewett... It's been so long since I heard that name. Oh, you really are strange..."

A tiny voice sounded beside Silan's ear.

The Sorting Hat seemed troubled, muttering repeatedly, "Difficult, difficult."

"How about..." Seeing how conflicted the Sorting Hat was, Silan offered his own suggestion. "Put me in Hufflepuff."

As the house that admitted the most students, Hufflepuff might not seem particularly remarkable while one was still in school, but after graduation, one would discover that its alumni were spread throughout the wizarding world.

Even Newt Scamander, author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, a required textbook for Hogwarts first-years, had been a Hufflepuff student.

Those were all connections.

"Don't joke around." The Sorting Hat gave a derisive snort. "Hufflepuff is the least suitable house for you."

"Don't you take young wizards' wishes into consideration?"

"Yes, yes, but only when their traits are fairly balanced and they would suit whichever house they went to. If every young wizard could choose a house based entirely on their own wishes, what would I be for?" the Sorting Hat muttered.

"Your courage is indeed admirable, and your heart... is quite interesting too. Gryffindor might suit you. Oh, you also enjoy knowledge and possess wisdom. Of course, you're also very good at making use of that wisdom. Ravenclaw would suit you as well. But that isn't enough. Let me look again..."

Second by second, time passed.

"Aha! Found it!" The Sorting Hat happily shook its pointed tip. "Ambition."

"You crave knowledge and power only because knowledge and power will help you fulfill your ambition. Slytherin will give you opportunities. Glory and victory will be yours for the taking."

Perhaps because it had completed a difficult challenge, the Sorting Hat sounded delighted as it said lightly, "Didn't you want Hufflepuff just now for the connections? You'll gain even more in Slytherin."

That did make sense.

Silan had never considered himself mediocre, nor did he shy away from using lies and disguises, knowledge or violence.

Those were merely steps and tools for reaching the top.

Could anyone blame him for that?

Of course not. As an orphan from the foggy city, he understood the hardships of survival better than anyone.

His father had died early, and his mother had died when he was young. Life's hardships had devoured his flesh like an invisible beast, while also feeding his ambition.

He lied and deceived, laid schemes for profit, all so that he could climb higher and higher.

He loved possessing things and hated losing them.

"Yes, yes, that's it." The Sorting Hat shouted loudly.

"Slytherin!"

At the announcement, a smattering of applause rose from the Slytherin table.

In sharp contrast to that cold, sparse response, many people were utterly stunned, unable to believe what they had heard.

How could Silan possibly be sorted into Slytherin?

Hermione and Neville both stood there with their mouths hanging open.

Neither could understand how the Sorting Hat could have made such a decision.

He was such a kind and gentle person. He was nothing like those Slytherin students!

McGonagall, meanwhile, looked stunned as she removed the Sorting Hat and inspected it, wondering if the old hat had grown senile and lost its mind.

George and Fred let out a chorus of boos.

How could a Prewett be sorted into Slytherin?

Dumbledore's expression grew even more grave.

An orphanage, Slytherin House... If he was a half-blood as well...

This scene seemed strangely familiar.