Ron stared blankly as Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table, that resounding cry of "Gryffindor" still echoing in his ears.
A complicated mix of feelings welled up inside him.
On the one hand, he did not particularly like this person who was always bossing people around and bringing out a whole pile of books to browbeat them.
On the other hand, he had to admit that Hermione's ability was beyond question, like a sharp sword: a little painful to handle, but undeniably useful.
At least when it comes to the House Cup, Ron muttered inwardly. Having her in our house is much better than having her go to Ravenclaw or Slytherin.
At that thought, he instinctively looked toward Harry in the line and silently added, If Harry gets sorted into our house too, that would be perfect.
After Hermione, Lavender Brown was called.
As expected, the hat barely hesitated before announcing loudly, "Gryffindor!"
Lavender almost jumped for joy.
Just then, Goyle suddenly leaned toward Draco and asked quietly, "Boss, where are you going?"
There was unmistakable unease in his voice.
Before Draco could answer, Professor McGonagall had already read out the next name: "Gregory Goyle."
Goyle froze, as though he had not realized she was calling him.
Only after Vincent elbowed him from beside him did he walk toward the stool as though waking from a dream.
The Sorting Hat had barely settled onto his head before it shouted the result, almost instantly: "Slytherin!"
The Slytherin table immediately erupted into even louder applause than before, as though trying to drown out Gryffindor's earlier swagger with their cheers.
Goyle was tall and burly, like a moving wall of flesh standing there, and looked intimidating from any angle.
The older Slytherin students looked at him and nodded in satisfaction.
A big fellow like that would be excellent "combat power" in the future, whether in duels or fights.
Goyle still seemed not to have fully grasped what was happening and walked toward the Slytherin table in a daze, nearly tripping over his own feet along the way.
Next, Professor McGonagall read, "Vincent Crabbe."
Vincent swallowed nervously, walked up to the stool, and sat down.
The hat remained on his head for a few seconds before announcing, "Slytherin!"
Another cheer rose from Slytherin.
Vincent grinned, waved to Draco, and then hurried toward his house table.
The next three or four names were sorted into Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
The atmosphere in the Great Hall gradually grew livelier, and the first-years' nervousness slowly faded with each successive sorting.
Until.
"Harry Potter."
The instant Professor McGonagall's voice rang out in the Great Hall, it was as though the entire hall had been muted.
Everyone's eyes turned in unison toward the thin, black-haired boy, the whispers swept away as though by a gale, leaving only the faint crackle of burning candles.
"Is that the Harry Potter?"
"The Boy Who Lived?"
"That's him, that's him! I've seen his picture in a book!"
All sorts of speculation surged silently through the air.
Harry took a deep breath, trying to keep his legs from shaking.
He walked to the stool and sat down, and the moment the Sorting Hat settled over his head, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest.
The hat remained silent on his head for a long time, longer than it had for any other first-year.
Gradually, people in the Great Hall could not resist whispering, "That's Harry Potter for you. Even the Sorting Hat can't make up its mind."
During that long silence, the Sorting Hat kept weighing the choice in Harry's mind: Slytherin or Gryffindor?
"You're very brave," the hat's voice sounded in his ears, "but you're also ambitious and decisive."
"Slytherin can give you strength, resources, and a shortcut to power. You know, many great wizards have come from there, as have... well, a few less honorable figures. But power itself is neither good nor evil. What matters is who uses it."
Harry's heart clenched. No, I'm not going to Slytherin.
"Are you sure?" The Sorting Hat sounded a little surprised. "Slytherin would welcome you. You would become their leader, and your name would be carved on their wall of honor."
I'm not going. Harry shouted inwardly with almost every ounce of strength he had.
The Sorting Hat fell silent for a while, seemingly weighing his insistence against his nature.
Finally, it sighed. "All right. Since you're so insistent... I'll respect your choice."
The next moment, it shouted in a ringing voice, "Gryffindor!"
The word rang out.
The entire Great Hall seemed to catch fire.
The Gryffindor table erupted into the most enthusiastic cheers in its history, the applause, whistles, and screams nearly lifting the roof.
Only this boy could receive such an honor.
Harry was startled by the reception, his face full of overwhelmed surprise.
He climbed down from the stool and walked toward the Gryffindor table, almost propelled by the tide of cheers.
Ron was so excited that he was nearly in tears. He threw his arms around him. "Harry! You're here! This is brilliant!"
Hermione was also happy that Harry had come to Gryffindor, and a heartfelt smile appeared on her face.
But as the applause briefly subsided, her gaze still drifted involuntarily toward Draco.
The boy standing in the line, his blond hair dazzling.
As though responding to her gaze, Professor McGonagall read out the next name: "Draco Malfoy."
The entire Great Hall fell quiet again.
But this time, the silence carried an expectation that seemed only natural.
The Slytherins had already begun cheering in advance, their green tablecloth swaying slightly in the candlelight.
The older Slytherin students whispered among themselves, smiles of certain victory in their eyes.
The heir to the Malfoy family was, of course, one of theirs.
Others familiar with the Malfoy family also nodded, having already settled on the answer in their minds: Draco Malfoy was definitely going to Slytherin.
Pansy clasped her hands tightly, her eyes fixed on Draco, her breathing growing somewhat quick.
She was looking forward to it.
If Draco was sorted into Slytherin, she would have a better chance of using her proximity to gain a place at his side.
At the High Table, the professors also had no doubts about Draco's sorting result.
Even the corners of Snape's mouth curled slightly into a cold smile.
A new Malfoy was about to join his house.
Just as everyone thought the result was set in stone, Draco stepped forward and sat down on the stool.