Sorted into Slytherin

The witch finished speaking and returned to the hall, the doors closing behind her.

Harry looked toward Neville, but unexpectedly spotted Allen on the left side of the line. He hurried over happily. "Your Highness! You're finally here! I've been looking for you in the line for ages!"

Allen kept his earlier smile. "Thank you for your concern, Harry!"

Ron and Draco still couldn't stand each other. They exchanged glares, then turned their heads away at the same time.

"Your Highness, which house do you think you'll be sorted into?" Harry asked awkwardly, clearly a little nervous.

Allen spread his hands. "Any of them would be fine. Hogwarts is the best magic school in the United Kingdom, and every house has its own strengths!"

Draco snorted and frowned. "How can you still think that? I told you, Slytherin is the best house!"

Ron's freckled face flushed a little as he argued, "Gryffindor is!"

"A bunch of stupid, reckless lions!" Draco muttered.

"A bunch of treacherous snakes!" Ron shot back.

Seeing things about to take another turn for the worse, Allen quickly changed the subject. "Listen, they're talking about the Sorting Ceremony!"

A little brown-haired girl said, "My brother said we have to pass a test to be sorted. Otherwise, they'll send us home!"

Her words caused a stir among the young witches and wizards.

"Oh, no!" The girl who had reminded Allen about his clothes earlier nervously bit her finger. "I've only read through the textbooks a few times! What was powdered unicorn horn used for again?"

The pressure from this star pupil made everyone even more anxious.

Ron swallowed. "Fred and George said they'd make us fight a troll!"

Even Draco went pale at that.

As their discussion grew increasingly absurd, Allen sighed. "How could that be true? We're just a group of first-years who don't know anything yet. They couldn't possibly use an exam to decide whether to admit us."

"As for trolls, that's even less likely! This is the opening ceremony. Why would the professors allow creatures that could hurt students to appear?"

Understanding dawned on the young witches and wizards, and a chorus of "Oh!" rose from them.

The color returned to Draco's face. He straightened his robes with affected composure and drawled, "Exactly, Weasley! Only someone with a troll-sized brain like yours would believe that!"

Before Ron could retort, a crowd of pearly-white ghosts floated through the wall, causing a commotion.

A short, plump ghost in brightly colored clothes poked his head out of the floor. Laughing loudly, he touched the students' feet one after another, provoking cries and shrieks.

A ghost who looked like a knight scolded him angrily. "Oh, Peeves! You horrible ghost, stop bullying the first-years!"

The witch from earlier also strode out and snapped sternly, "Peeves!"

The short, plump ghost stuck out his tongue and ran off laughing.

The witch exhaled angrily, then surveyed the cowering children. "The Sorting Ceremony is ready. Follow me."

The doors slowly opened. Older students filled the four long tables, with places left for the first-years near the High Table.

Countless burning candles floated in midair. Stars glittered across the ceiling, and the original stone arches were faintly visible in the night sky.

Draco, too, gazed up at the ceiling in wonder.

It seemed that however haughty this little peacock might be, he was still looking forward to Hogwarts.

Allen lowered his gaze. Hearing the older Muggle-born students at the four tables discussing him in surprise and excitement after spotting him, he gave one of them a warm, polite smile.

A girl's voice that Allen found fairly familiar rose from the line.

"That ceiling isn't real. It's been enchanted to look like the night sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Allen glanced at her. It seemed this girl was one of the rare children his age who genuinely loved learning.

The line stopped in the open space at the front. A stool stood in the middle, with a hat perched on it that looked as though it hadn't been washed in centuries, its surface covered in folds.

Draco frowned. "They aren't going to make us wear that hat, are they? Merlin, it's filthy!"

Allen looked up and saw Dumbledore in the middle of the High Table. The old man gave him a playful wink, and Allen nodded in return.

Just then, the largest fold in the hat split open, revealing what was actually a mouth.

The older students covered their ears in unison. The inexperienced first-years weren't so lucky.

The hat took a deep breath, then seemed to pause.

It seemed to have sensed a familiar presence.

But sorting was the priority right now. The Sorting Hat opened its mouth and began to sing.

"Put me upon your heads, and I will tell you which house you belong in. Gryffindor is brave, full of daring, spirit, and chivalry..."

"Hufflepuff is just and loyal, steadfast and honest; Ravenclaw is clever, wise, and learned;

"Perhaps you'll enter Slytherin and make true friends there, but those cunning, treacherous folk will use any means to achieve their ends."

Allen raised his eyes slightly, his sea-blue gaze darkening.

"Come, put me on! There's no need to fear! You're perfectly safe with me, and I'll tell you which house you should go to!"

When the hat finished its song, thunderous applause filled the hall. The hat bowed to each of the four tables, then went still.

The first-years seemed to breathe a great sigh of relief.

Allen heard Ron say, "I'm going to kill Fred. He tricked me again!"

The old man nodded to the witch, signaling for Professor McGonagall to begin the sorting. She unrolled the parchment in her hands, its end trailing onto the floor.

The witch said sternly, "When I call your name, come forward. The Sorting Hat will tell you which house you should join!"

"Hannah Abbott!"

"Hufflepuff!" The Sorting Hat quickly announced the house, and applause erupted from the second table on the left.

"Hermione Granger!" It was the girl who had reminded him earlier, and Allen took another look at her.

"Gryffindor!"

"Ron Weasley!"

"Gryffindor!"

The Sorting Hat worked efficiently, and soon more than half the students had been assigned to their houses.

"Draco Malfoy!"

Draco tugged on Allen's sleeve before going up.

"Slytherin!" the hat shouted before it had even touched a strand of Draco's hair.

Applause erupted from the table on the far right.

Draco gave a satisfied smile. He rose gracefully and glanced at Allen, his eyes saying, You'd better come to Slytherin, before heading toward the table on the far right, where the students were clapping with restraint.

"Harry Potter!"

Dumbledore, who had been leaning back in his chair, straightened slightly, his expression intent.

A buzz filled the hall as everyone craned their necks to look at the Chosen One.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Harry's head, and it found itself in a dilemma.

"Hmm, difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, it seems, and a good heart, too. Very talented, and eager to prove yourself. But where should I put you?"

Harry's palms grew sweaty with nerves. He remembered Ron saying that most dark wizards came from Slytherin, including the Dark Lord who had killed his parents.

Although Allen's influence had convinced him that not everyone in Slytherin was bad, he still felt some aversion to it.

So he said, "I don't want to go to Slytherin!"

The hat's quiet voice sounded inside his head.

"Have you made up your mind? Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness-not willing? Very well, then you'd better go to-"

It shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Applause filled the hall, and Gryffindor's lions shouted happily, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"

Faced with Allen's smiling gaze, Dumbledore felt a curious sense of pressure. He calmed the excited Gryffindors and had the Sorting Hat continue.

"Alan Cornwall Windsor!"

The young Muggle-born witches and wizards in the three houses immediately forgot all about Harry Potter.

(Slytherin had no fully Muggle-born students.)

They fell silent, clasped their hands together, and moved their lips soundlessly, praying to God and Merlin to send the Crown Prince to their house!

After all, Harry Potter was the Chosen One of the Wizarding World, but for those who came from the Muggle World, their own Crown Prince carried more weight!

Allen stepped forward, mounted the platform where the Sorting Hat stood, then turned and sat down on the chair.

Dumbledore straightened, his bright blue eyes fixed unblinkingly on Allen's back.

Harry and Draco both craned their necks to watch.

The hat was placed on Allen's head, and that familiar magical presence curled around it.

It froze, carefully sensing that presence, questions running through its mind.

"...Which house would you like to join, child?"

The quiet voice finally sounded.

Surprised, Allen asked inwardly, "Isn't that for you to decide?"

The Sorting Hat fell silent for a while, then said, "Very well... a calm, steady temperament, decisive action, a clever mind, a kind heart... willing to use any means to achieve your goals..."

"Are you sure you won't consider Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?"

Allen chuckled. "What do you think?"

The Sorting Hat keenly sensed a trace of menace. It narrowed its eyes and, taking that familiar magical presence into account, said, "Very well, it really must be-"

It raised its brim and shouted, "Slytherin!"