Potter, you'd better have some sense!

The boats slipped through the trailing vines and entered a dark waterway.

The rocky ceiling was low overhead. Ron ducked his head, and Hermione pressed a hand against Neville's shoulder.

"Heads down! Don't bump them!"

Hagrid's voice came from up ahead.

Harry glanced at the boat Hagrid was sitting in.

Clearly, Hagrid needed that reminder more himself.

Once the boats reached the shore, the first-years stepped onto the wet stone steps and followed Hagrid upward.

Tall oak doors stood before them, their iron fittings gleaming dimly.

Hagrid raised a fist and knocked several times.

The doors opened.

A witch in dark green robes stood behind them, her black hair neatly pinned up, her gaze passing over each of the first-years' faces.

Ron, who had just been whispering to Harry, immediately shut his mouth.

"Professor McGonagall, the first-years are here."

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

Professor McGonagall stepped aside and led them into the castle.

Torches burned on the walls. Lively voices came from behind a door on the right, along with the soft clinking of tableware.

Ron couldn't help looking that way.

Professor McGonagall, however, led them into another room first.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

She stood before them, her tone clear and stern.

"Before the feast begins, you must be sorted into your houses. There are four houses here: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

"You will attend classes and share living quarters with students from your house. Good performance can earn points for your house; breaking school rules will cost you points."

"At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup."

At the words "breaking school rules," Harry instinctively glanced at Ron.

Ron was listening attentively and looked very well-behaved.

Once Professor McGonagall had finished giving her instructions, she told them to wait there, then turned and left the room.

As soon as the door closed, hushed conversations began again.

Ron leaned toward Harry.

"Do you know how they sort us?"

"I'm not quite sure. Maybe a hat..."

Of course Harry knew about the Sorting Hat.

But he no longer dared to sound too certain.

What if something was wrong with this version of the Sorting Hat too?

"Fred said we have to fight a troll." Ron swallowed. "But I think he might have been lying to me."

Neville hugged Trevor tighter at that.

"F-fight a troll?"

Hermione frowned.

"Surely not. We've only just arrived. Most of us haven't learned more than a few spells."

Ron still looked a little uneasy.

Harry patted his shoulder.

"When the holidays come, you can ask Fred to demonstrate."

"Demonstrate what?"

"How he fought the troll back then."

Ron paused, then suddenly decided that was a good idea.

A soft snort came from nearby.

"Weasley, so you even believe your own family's jokes."

Malfoy stood a few steps away, her pale gray eyes sweeping over Ron's face, undisguised distaste at the corners of her mouth.

Ron's face immediately flushed red.

"I never said I believed him!"

"Then what are you afraid of?" She raised her chin as though she had seen through everything long ago. "They use a hat for the sorting. All you need to do is put it on and wait for it to tell you where to go."

Neville visibly relaxed.

Hermione turned her head too.

"A hat that can make judgments? In Hogwarts, A History, I-"

"I wasn't talking to you! You should go back to reading your book!"

Malfoy cut her off.

Her gaze finally settled on Harry.

"Potter, I hope you at least know which house is worth joining."

Harry looked at her.

Back on the platform, this young lady had acted as though even looking at him was a waste of her time.

Now she was worrying about his house.

"Slytherin?" he ventured.

The corners of Malfoy's lips lifted slightly.

"Hmph. It seems that stupid Weasley hasn't completely rubbed off on you yet."

Ron opened his mouth to argue.

Hermione spoke first.

"I think Gryffindor is very good too. Headmaster Dumbledore graduated from there."

"The Weasley family are all there too." Malfoy glanced at Ron, her meaning unmistakable in her tone.

Ron's face grew even redder. "So what?"

"That alone says quite a lot."

"We haven't even been sorted yet," Harry said. "You don't have to get all seven years of our arguments out of the way in advance."

Ron faltered, and Malfoy pressed her lips together too.

Seven years?

She certainly didn't have that much time to waste on Weasley.

She looked at Harry, her tone growing more earnest.

"People like us should be in Slytherin, of course."

Harry pointed at himself, then at her.

"Us?"

Malfoy's expression changed at once.

"I meant our birth and status!"

"I didn't say anything else."

"You'd better have some sense, Potter! This is your last chance!"

With that, she turned away, clearly unwilling to explain any further.

Goyle looked at her, then at Harry, and had the good sense to say nothing.

Just then, a head suddenly emerged from the wall beside them.

Neville gasped, and then an entire translucent body floated out.

It was a fat ghost in a friar's habit, followed by several equally transparent figures.

"First-years?"

The Fat Friar looked at them with a very kindly smile.

"Waiting to be sorted? I hope to see you in Hufflepuff."

The students all moved aside.

Ron watched a ghost pass straight through the wall, his mouth opening slightly.

Moving photographs, talking hats, and now people who could walk through walls.

Hogwarts must have saved quite a bit on doors when they fitted the place out.

The door opened again, and Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway.

"Form a line and follow me."

When the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open, the students at the front of the line faltered almost in unison.

Four long tables stretched deep into the Great Hall, packed with students in wizarding robes.

Countless candles floated in midair, their bright flames illuminating golden plates and goblets.

Higher still was a night sky studded with stars.

Harry tilted his head back.

The night above seemed endlessly high, with wisps of thin cloud drifting slowly through the starlight.

"The ceiling's enchanted to look like the sky outside."

Hermione explained quietly beside him.

"I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Ron glanced at her. Just how much was in that book?

The line reached the High Table, and Professor McGonagall brought over a stool and placed an old hat on it.

The hat was crumpled, with several patches around its brim.

Harry looked at it, reining in his admiration for the Great Hall a little.

So this was the Sorting Hat?

It could hear people's thoughts.

Hopefully, it only cared about houses and wouldn't ask about his phone while it was at it.

The hat suddenly moved.

A crease opened into a mouth, and it began singing in front of everyone.

It sang about the qualities of the four houses, and the older students beat time with practiced ease.

When it finished, applause filled the hall.

Ron clapped along, finally relaxing completely.

Because they really didn't have to fight a troll.

Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll of parchment.

"When you hear your name, come forward and put on the hat."

"Hannah Abbott!"

A girl stepped out of the line and sat on the stool.

The hat was quiet for a moment, then suddenly shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

Applause immediately broke out at one of the long tables.

Then names were called out one after another.

Crabbe and Goyle went into Slytherin in turn. After sitting down, both looked back toward the line of first-years without prompting.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione straightened her back and walked briskly to the stool.

The hat settled onto her head, paused briefly, then announced, "Gryffindor!"

She took off the hat, a smile finally appearing on her face, and hurried toward the cheering table.

Neville took longer.

He sat there, both hands gripping his knees tightly, not daring even to move his feet.

Only when "Gryffindor!" rang out did he spring to his feet.

He had gone several steps before returning amid laughter to hand back the hat he had forgotten to remove.

Ron couldn't help laughing, and Harry laughed too.

Then Professor McGonagall read out the next name.

"Draco Malfoy!"

The girl lifted her chin and stepped out of the line, her steps very steady, her long platinum-blond hair swaying gently as she moved.

The hat had barely touched the top of her head before it shouted:

"Slytherin!"

She removed the hat, a small, satisfied smile appearing at the corners of her lips, and walked toward the long table applauding her.

Crabbe and Goyle had already saved her a seat.

Malfoy sat down and first adjusted her sleeves. Then she looked at Harry, who was still standing in the line.

Potter had better have understood what she had just said.

Once he was in Slytherin, he would naturally discover that Weasley couldn't help him at all.

As for herself...

Of course she wouldn't forgive him immediately just because he had joined the same house.

At the very least, he would have to speak to her first and apologize properly.

If he was sincere enough, it wasn't entirely beyond consideration.

At that thought, Malfoy sat up straight, suppressing even that faint smile at the corners of her lips.

He had to let Potter see that he certainly hadn't been waiting for him.

"Harry Potter!"

The murmur of conversation in the Great Hall suddenly grew louder, and quite a few people craned their necks to look toward the line of first years.

Harry adjusted his glasses and walked over to the stool.

As he sat down, he happened to catch sight of that conspicuous head of long platinum-blond hair at the Slytherin table.

Malfoy was watching him.

When she saw him look over, she immediately raised her chin, as though reminding him of something.

Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

The broad brim covered his eyes, and the brightly lit Great Hall suddenly went dark.

The next moment, a thin voice sounded in his mind.

"Hmm... courage, and a mind of your own."

"You want to learn magic well, and you're also very eager to change something..."

Harry's fingers paused slightly, and the voice continued in a leisurely tone:

"Slytherin might be able to help you."

"What do you say, child?"

"Would you like to consider it?"