After the voice inside the hat fell silent, Harry did not answer immediately.
Slytherin-of course he knew that name.
Harry thought for a moment, then asked inwardly:
"Gryffindor can help me learn magic well too, right?"
"Of course," said the Sorting Hat. "But you could do just as well in Slytherin-"
"Then I want to go to Gryffindor."
The hat fell silent for a moment.
"Because of your friends?"
"That's part of it." Harry's tone was perfectly frank.
But more importantly, he did not want to change the original plot on a whim.
Who knew what butterfly effect he might cause by going to Slytherin?
What if the plot veered completely off course? He was still only a young wizard who had just started school.
Even with a system at his side, it was better to play it safe until he was strong enough.
Keep your head down. Don't get reckless.
Once I've mastered nonverbal magic, or can even fire off an Avada Kedavra with a raised hand as a basic attack...
It won't be too late to consider changing the plot then.
So, Gryffindor! It has to be Gryffindor!
"Have you made up your mind?"
"I have."
A hint of amusement entered the voice inside the hat.
"Then-" The next instant, that voice suddenly boomed. "Gryffindor!"
Applause erupted at once.
Harry took off the hat and immediately saw Hermione waving to him.
Neville had half risen too, doing his best to make room for him at the long table.
"Harry, over here!"
He headed toward the lively table. Meanwhile, the corners of Malfoy's mouth, which had just begun to rise, froze.
Gryffindor?
Potter?
He really went to Gryffindor?!
She watched Harry sit beside Hermione and Neville, then turn and smile at Ron, who was still waiting.
He had clearly heard that word, "Slytherin," just now.
And he had even asked about it himself!
Yet after asking, he had gone to another house!
That guy! He's provoking me again! Fine, I accept your challenge!
Malfoy gripped the stem of her goblet, her pale gray eyes fixed on that long table.
Goyle followed her gaze and hesitated.
"Miss, the hat decides the houses..."
"I know."
She answered so quickly that Goyle swallowed the rest of his words.
That hat had talked to Potter for so long. Perhaps Potter had chosen for himself.
At that thought, Malfoy's expression darkened a little more.
Very well.
His taste really was beyond saving.
"Welcome to Gryffindor."
Harry had barely sat down when a red-haired older student extended his hand.
A Prefect Badge was pinned to his chest, his glasses were polished clean, and he sat straighter than the people beside him.
"Percy Weasley, Gryffindor prefect."
"Hello, Ron's brother."
"Wow, you actually know me." Percy nodded. "If you have any questions, you can come to me."
Beside him, two very similar faces leaned over at the same time.
"You can come to us too."
"Especially with questions Percy refuses to answer."
Percy immediately frowned.
"Fred, George, don't start leading the new students astray the moment you meet them."
Looking at the pair, Harry suddenly remembered something. "By the way, when you started school, who was in charge of fighting the troll?"
The twins exchanged a glance. Fred immediately looked toward the line of new students, and George followed suit.
Standing there, Ron inexplicably felt a chill down his back.
"It seems our little brother has already been sharing his experiences of starting school," Fred said.
"Unfortunately, he left out quite a few crucial details," George added.
"Such as?"
"The troll isn't actually very keen on fighting."
"We have to persuade it first."
Hermione looked at them, clearly not believing a single word.
Harry, however, nodded. "All right. Ron said he'd like you to demonstrate during the holidays."
Both smiling faces froze at once. Percy pushed up his glasses, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
"That's a perfectly reasonable request."
Harry finally felt that his sorting had already yielded a little reward.
At the very least, Ron's brothers were entertaining.
A little later, Professor McGonagall called Ron's name.
As the red-haired boy sat on the stool, he still remembered to glance their way.
"Gryffindor!"
Ron leaped up almost immediately.
He handed the hat back to Professor McGonagall, hurried over to Harry, and plopped down beside him.
"I knew it!"
"Then why were you clutching your robes the whole time?" Hermione asked.
"I wasn't."
Ron released the corner of his robes, which he was still gripping.
Harry did not expose him. He merely shifted aside a little to let him sit more comfortably.
Once the last new student had been sorted, the Great Hall finally began to quiet down.
At the center of the High Table, an old man with a long white beard stood up.
His eyes smiled behind his Half-moon Spectacles. His voice was not loud, yet it reached every long table clearly.
Albus Dumbledore.
Harry could not help sitting a little straighter. This headmaster was finally standing before him in person.
Dumbledore looked at the hall full of students and spoke with a warm smile.
"Welcome back, and welcome to our friends who are here for the first time."
"I think what you need most right now is dinner."
"So, please enjoy."
As his words fell, the previously empty plates suddenly filled with food.
Roast chicken, beef, potatoes, and generous helpings of vegetables.
Steam rose all at once. Ron glanced down, his expression immediately becoming even more solemn than when he had heard his sorting result.
Harry picked up his knife and fork too.
Since I'm here, I might as well do this meal justice first.
"How is this food delivered?" Hermione looked at the plates. "The kitchen must be somewhere in the castle, but nobody brought-"
Ron had already taken his first bite of chicken.
"It's very good."
Hermione looked at him.
"I asked how it gets here."
"Oh."
Ron thought for a moment, then pushed a nearby plate toward her.
"This one's good too."
Harry lowered his head to cut his beef, his shoulders giving an involuntary shake. Hermione took a deep breath and finally decided to eat first.
The Great Hall gradually grew lively.
Some people shared stories from their holidays, while others asked the new students where they came from.
Harry took a sip of Pumpkin Juice, his gaze drifting casually toward another long table. Then he went still.
Malfoy was looking their way.
More precisely, she was looking at him.
The instant their eyes met, she immediately lowered her head and viciously sliced into a small piece of potato before her.
Then she cut it again.
Goyle glanced at the increasingly fragmented potato and quietly picked up his own spoon.
Yes, Malfoy was cutting her food.
Before the feast ended, Dumbledore gave them a few more instructions.
They were not to enter the Forbidden Forest without permission, and students were also forbidden to approach a corridor on the right-hand side of the third floor.
When he mentioned the latter rule, his tone remained gentle, but his meaning was perfectly clear.
There was danger there.
Harry naturally knew there was danger there. Whatever lay behind that door had a much worse temper than a singing hat.
Then Percy stood and called for the first years to follow him.
They left the Great Hall and entered a brightly lit corridor.
There were many staircases in the castle, and many portraits on the walls, and neither was particularly well-behaved.
As Harry passed one painting, the person inside, who had been sprawled over a chair dozing, suddenly opened his eyes and looked them over.
"New here?"
Ron paused. The person in the painting yawned and closed his eyes again.
"Don't wake me if you take a wrong turn."
"Do portraits need to sleep too?" Ron asked quietly.
"This one does, at least," Harry said.
They kept climbing until they finally stopped before a portrait of the Fat Lady.
Percy gave the password.
The portrait swung forward, revealing the entrance behind it.
A warm common room appeared before them.
A fire blazed in the fireplace, with several armchairs gathered around it and red drapes hanging before the windows.
Once Ron stepped inside, his whole body relaxed.
"This place is really nice."
Harry could not help nodding too. At least it was much better than the twelve-person dormitory at his high school in his previous life.
The boys' dormitory was upstairs. Five four-poster beds stood inside, hung with deep red curtains.
Their luggage had already arrived. The first thing Neville did was find somewhere to settle Trevor.
Ron sat on the edge of his bed and pressed a hand against the mattress, looking thoroughly satisfied.
"Classes start tomorrow, right?"
"They should."
Harry opened his luggage and took out his wand and textbooks.
Once everyone had changed into their pajamas, he sat on the edge of his own bed and raised his wand.
"Lumos."
White light shone from the tip of his wand.
He did not rush to withdraw his magic. Instead, following the panel's instructions, he kept the light steady.
[Effective practice, proficiency +1.] [Lumos: beginner (19/100).]
It came a little more easily than last night. Looking at the numbers, Harry unconsciously smiled.
Ron's voice suddenly came from beside him.
"Harry, could you shine that over here?"
"What's wrong?"
"Damn it, one of my socks has run off somewhere."
Harry moved his wand over.
Ron bent down and felt around under the bed for a while before finally pulling out the sock.
"Found it, thanks."
He yawned, climbed into bed, then poked half his head back out.
"Good night, Harry."
Neville, across from them, also murmured good night.
Harry looked at them and reined in his magic, letting the white light at his wand tip slowly fade.
"Good night."
Outside the window, the castle's lights went dark one by one.
He put his wand within easy reach, drew the curtains closed, and lay down in the bed that was his own.
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