Gryffindor's Great Hero
Dumbledore's cough proved quite effective. The Sorting Hat promptly collected itself and said:
"Difficult, very difficult. I can see plenty of courage, and you're not bad at heart. Tremendous talent, too, and a great thirst for knowledge. But you're not very honest. Hufflepuff certainly won't do...
"Now, this is interesting... Where should I put you?"
William thought the hat was probably like Ollivander, saying much the same thing to everyone.
While the Sorting Hat pondered, the little spider living on it dangled from a strand of silk in front of William's eyes.
It waved its legs and frothed at the mouth, saying who knew what.
Bored, William blew at it. The spider swung back and forth, but its thread didn't break.
He reached out to flick the little thing away, but the Sorting Hat said, "I warn you, you'd better not do that. The little fellow is a good friend of mine.
"Its great-great-grandfather was an Acromantula named Aragog."
"Aragog?" William frowned.
"What, you know him?"
"Yeah, I heard Hagrid mention him. He said he was a very gentle, friendly magical creature, and that he'd take me along to pet his leg hair," William replied.
In fact, William had looked up the creature in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
It had seemed rather dangerous.
But out of blind trust in Hagrid and the naive understanding of a newcomer to the Wizarding World, he simply assumed that the book's author, Newt Scamander, was exaggerating.
If it was an exaggeration, what did William have to fear? Besides, he had Hagrid's protection, didn't he?
He curled his right index finger slightly and flicked the little eight-eyed spider hard in the abdomen. The thread didn't break, but the force sent the spider crashing into the Sorting Hat's mouth.
The little spider whimpered pitifully and scurried into a bobbly clump of yarn.
The Sorting Hat was furious!
It grinned maliciously and suddenly shouted, "Ha! William, you're so funny! You actually said Professor Snape looks like a greasy old bat!"
"..."
The entire hall fell silent. Snape stared at William, his face livid, a lock of black hair still clenched in his hand, which he had just pulled out by gripping too hard.
Fred, who had been secretly unwrapping a Chocolate Frog, flinched, and the chocolate landed squarely on the Niffler's head.
George gazed at William with the reverence one reserved for a hero!
But heroes were often accompanied by death!
William felt like killing someone now. He had been wrong, utterly wrong.
The Sorting Hat shouldn't be put in dishwashing liquid. He should pour 84 disinfectant straight down its mouth!
Its scheme a success, the Sorting Hat lazily announced in a loud voice, "Ravenclaw."
William didn't know how he made it to the Ravenclaw table. All he remembered was that the night was a little cool.
Starlight shone overhead, the students smiled at him, and he was baffled, he was confused...
How had an utterly ordinary first-year Ravenclaw wizard like him suddenly become Gryffindor's great hero?
William pondered it endlessly, but couldn't figure it out!
Cedric was even more desperate. Both Cho and William had gone to Ravenclaw, and he now badly wanted to ask what the procedure for changing houses was.
After Youer Alex was sorted into Slytherin, all the students had been sorted. Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, picked up the Sorting Hat, and left.
As it departed, the Sorting Hat even puckered its lips smugly at William.
Dumbledore stood up, beaming at the students as he spread his arms toward them.
It seemed nothing made him happier than seeing the students all gathered together.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year!
"I have just two words to say to you," his rich voice echoed through the Great Hall. "Eat up!"
The empty plates all around them were suddenly, magically piled high with food.
Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding...
It certainly looked like a feast, but honestly, British food was good for a laugh. For a truly satisfying meal, you had to turn to Chinese cuisine.
William prodded the sausage baked with onions and tomatoes in front of him with his fork. For some reason, he found himself missing steamed lamb, steamed bear paws, steamed deer tails, roast duck, roast chicken, roast goose...
Though he had never eaten any of them!
Cho took a bite of the potato on her fork and asked quietly, "What happened just now?"
William shook his head. "The Sorting Hat's probably going through menopause."
"..."
Not far away, a witch with curly brown hair warned him, "You'd better be careful. Professor Snape will definitely make trouble for you."
As she spoke, she glanced at Snape at the staff table. The professor was squinting, staring fixedly in Ravenclaw's direction.
She shuddered and hurriedly lowered her head.
Penelope Clearwater was already a fourth-year student. Insider information from an old hand like her was generally reliable.
In his previous life, William had spent twelve years at a school near the orphanage, from primary school through high school... Many newly arrived teachers had come to him for firsthand information about the people in charge.
Naturally, information came in tiers. Pay a little, and you could only get the basics. If you wanted to learn the bosses' likes and dislikes, you had to pay a high price.
So if the older student said Snape would make trouble for him, he definitely would.
That damned Sorting Hat. Sooner or later, he'd pour a whole jar of Lao Gan Ma down its throat, then give it a salt bath!
The food at Hogwarts tasted all right. There weren't that many culinary horrors, and there was plenty to fill you up. You could really come in leaning on the wall and leave leaning on it too.
After the last of the desserts had been eaten, everything disappeared. Dumbledore stood up, and the hall fell silent again.
"Now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill, I have a few more words to say.
"At the start of term, I would like to draw your attention to a few things.
"First-years, take note: the Forbidden Forest near the castle is off-limits to all students. Some of our older students would also do well to remember that.
"And no student below the third year may visit Hogsmeade."
Dumbledore's bright gaze swept toward the Weasley twins.
"Furthermore, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind everyone not to use magic in the corridors between classes, and under no circumstances to use fire smoke bombs."
"Finally, allow me to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said cheerfully.
"Professor Tywin!"
A tall, handsome wizard stood up beside Hagrid.
The wizard was in his early thirties, with flowing blond hair, bright pale-green eyes, and a smile as sharp as a blade.
Snape stroked his greasy black hair, a flicker of disdain passing through his eyes.
Dumbledore applauded, and everyone joined in to welcome him, especially many of the young witches.
When the applause ended, Dumbledore said happily, "Now, before you all go to bed, let us sing the school song together!"
The smiles froze on every teacher's face, especially Professor McGonagall's.
She tried to use Muffliato again on the sly, but the sharp-eyed Dumbledore caught her.
Dumbledore smiled and gave his wand a gentle flick. A long golden ribbon floated from it, twisting and coiling like a snake high above the tables to form lines of words, as conveniently as using karaoke.
He held his wand like a musician holding a conductor's baton.
"Everyone choose your favorite tune," Dumbledore said excitedly. "Ready, sing!"
And so the entire school burst into song:
Hogwarts,
Hogwarts,
Hogwarts,
Hogwarts,
Please teach us knowledge, whether we're balding old people or children with scraped knees. Our heads can take in some interesting things.
For now our heads are empty,
full of air,
dead flies and little bits of fluff,
teach us some knowledge of value,
give back to us
what we have forgotten,
you just do your best,
and leave the rest to us,
we'll study hard,
until we turn to dust.