Sorting Hat: Nurmengard!

After Professor McGonagall left, the young wizards waiting to be sorted began chattering among themselves.

"Hey, Harry!" A red-haired boy nudged the friend beside him, his tone full of schadenfreude. "So it was Malfoy and the others who got attacked by that water dragon."

Seeing Malfoy suffer misfortune, Harry felt secretly delighted. In much the same tone as Ron, he said, "I really wish I could give Malfoy a hit like that too."

Earlier on the train, the two of them had clashed with Draco. Draco's haughty attitude had left Harry with a poor impression, and Ron had nearly gotten into a fight with him.

"How can they know exactly which House to put us in?" Hermione's face was filled with anxiety.

Kyle spread his hands. "Professor Dumbledore said we have to duel a troll, and our House will be decided based on how we perform."

In truth, the Sorting Ceremony only required them to put on a battered old hat, which would then announce which House a young wizard belonged in.

However, Hogwarts had a fine tradition of "Sorting scares" for first-year students. Perhaps their parents had been tricked the same way back then.

They felt it would be unfair if they were the only ones who got fooled, so this "Sorting scare" had somehow been passed down and become an unwritten tradition.

At Kyle's words, Hannah, Hermione, and Neville all went pale.

"Oh no, oh no... is it still too late to drop out?" Hermione's voice was full of terror. "I haven't even mastered many spells. How could I possibly beat a troll?"

Kyle, who knew the truth behind the Sorting Ceremony, looked at the three panicking students with a satisfied smile.

Just as Kyle was immersed in his prank, Neville beside him suddenly leaped three feet into the air. Several people behind them also screamed loudly. Kyle turned around and saw that it was ghosts.

More than twenty ghosts suddenly burst out from the wall behind them. That kind of entrance was indeed rather frightening.

The pearly white, translucent ghosts glided through the room, whispering to one another and paying little attention to the first-year students.

One ghost wearing a doublet with a ruff collar suddenly noticed the new first-years.

"Hey, Kyle! I hope you get sorted into Gryffindor!"

Kyle greeted him with a smile. "Hello, Sir Nicholas. That depends on the Sorting Ceremony."

Hermione, standing behind Kyle, tugged at his robes. "You know them?"

"I lived here for a few months before this," Kyle explained.

As the ghosts drifted through the walls, Professor McGonagall returned.

"Now, form a single line," Professor McGonagall told the first-years. "Follow me."

They left the room, passed through the Entrance Hall, and went through a set of double doors into the magnificent Great Hall.

Students from all the other years were already seated at four long tables. Mixed in with the first-year line, Kyle kept waving to several of his companions from the Father-Worriers Alliance.

The Weasley Twins stood up from beside their table, cupped their hands around their mouths, and shouted at Kyle, "Kyle! We hope you come to Gryffindor!"

Kyle rubbed his forehead helplessly. Why did every single one of them want him sorted into Gryffindor House?

Was it just because the previous Dumbledore had graduated from Gryffindor House?

Compared to Gryffindor, Kyle still hoped to go to Hufflepuff.

As a Taijutsu practitioner, nutrition was indispensable. If he went to Hufflepuff, visiting the kitchens would be much more convenient.

Kyle swore it definitely was not because he loved eating.

Professor McGonagall led the first-years to the front of the staff table and had them stand in a row facing the entire student body, with the teachers behind them.

Candlelight flickered, and the hundreds of faces watching them looked like pale lanterns. Ghosts were scattered among the students as well, glimmering with hazy silver light.

To avoid their gazes, Hermione looked up and saw stars twinkling across the velvet-black ceiling.

She whispered, "This place has been enchanted. It looks just like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Uh... Kyle really wanted to tell her that the dining hall in his family castle had the same ceiling.

But that would seem like showing off his wealth, so Kyle dismissed the thought.

Professor McGonagall gently placed a four-legged stool before the first-years, then set a pointed wizard's hat on top of it. The hat was patched, worn, and terribly dirty.

Everyone in the Great Hall stared at the hat. For a moment, the previously noisy hall fell completely silent.

Kyle silently took out his wand and cast Muffliato on himself.

The next part, unless something unexpected happened, should be the Sorting Hat singing. Kyle had already experienced the Sorting Hat's ear-piercing voice several times in Dumbledore's Headmaster's Office.

Muffliato was a spell Kyle had prepared specifically for it.

Sure enough, the Sorting Hat twitched. A wide slit opened along its brim like a mouth.

The Sorting Hat began to sing.

"You may think I'm not much to look at, but never judge by appearances..."

"So we just have to wear that hat?" After the Sorting Hat finished singing, Hermione quietly asked Kyle.

Kyle suddenly stiffened.

Oh no. I had so much fun lying that I forgot the truth would come out soon, and then I'd be roasted alive.

"Th-this was also what Professor Dumbledore told me," Kyle said, turning his head to explain quietly to the little beaver.

Hermione gave Kyle a suspicious look. "Is that really so?"

"Now! Silence!" Professor McGonagall's sudden words saved Kyle's life.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward a few paces, holding a roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await your sorting."

"Hannah Abbott!"

The blonde little girl who had been forging stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell over her eyes. She sat down.

After a brief pause, the Sorting Hat announced loudly, "Hufflepuff!"

The people at the table on the right applauded and cheered for Hannah, welcoming her to join them.

"Susan Bones!" "Hufflepuff!"

"Terry Boot!" "Ravenclaw!"

Before long, Professor McGonagall called Kyle's name.

"Kyle Dumbledore!"

A sudden murmur swept through the Great Hall like the hiss of tiny flames.

"Dumbledore? Did Professor McGonagall just say Dumbledore?"

Hearing Kyle's surname, Malfoy was alarmed. So he had been offending Headmaster Dumbledore's relative to the death all this time?

On the platform, a strange professor with a pale face and an odd turban kept darting a peculiar look back and forth between Dumbledore and Kyle.

However, neither Dumbledore nor Kyle noticed his strange gaze.

When Professor McGonagall placed the filthy hat on Kyle's soft golden hair, the Sorting Hat, having long received Dumbledore's instructions, grinned. "Gryffin—"

A hand covered the Sorting Hat's mouth. "Shut up!"

Dumbledore, who had thought everything was under his control, had the smile on his face freeze instantly.

Professor McGonagall's expression also turned rather unpleasant. Her lips pressed tightly together, her brows drew so close they nearly stood upright, and even her glasses flashed with intimidating light.

The corner of Snape's mouth curled into a subtle arc.

Kyle covered the Sorting Hat's mouth with his right hand. With his left, he drew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the Sorting Hat. A cluster of ghostly blue flame, inherited by the Grindelwald family, ignited at its tip.

Though it was merely ordinary fire rather than Fiendfyre, the color of the flames still made Dumbledore's mouth twitch.

"Say it! Hufflepuff!"

Along with Kyle's words, the air in the entire Great Hall seemed to freeze at that very moment.