Chapter 36. Sorting
Harry followed the line into the Great Hall, so astonished he could barely speak.
It wasn't because the Great Hall was splendid, nor because of the thousands of floating candles and the ceiling like the night sky.
It was because Adrian Wesson was sitting at the staff table, smiling.
When he saw his own teacher sitting there, Harry couldn't help rubbing his eyes.
What… was going on?
Adrian noticed Harry freeze, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. This was exactly the reaction he'd been waiting for.
It was amusing, wasn't it?
Adrian gave a small laugh, then raised a finger to his lips in a "shh" gesture, signalling Harry to keep quiet.
Harry's eyes widened. He clearly didn't know what to do.
"What's up with you?" Ron, behind him, gave him a gentle push when he saw Harry had stopped. "Hurry up—keep going."
Only then did Harry realise he had fallen some way behind the light-brown-haired boy in front, and he hurried to catch up.
Although Harry very much wanted to rush over to his teacher right now and ask why he was here,
it was obvious this was not the time.
He could only follow the line forward.
At last, led by Professor McGonagall, they formed a row facing all the older students.
Adrian glanced over the students below and the professors beside him. Most eyes were fixed on Harry Potter.
Of course, that couldn't be helped—after all, Harry had defeated the legendary Dark wizard.
Everyone wanted to see the "Saviour" with their own eyes.
Harry noticed this as well. When he realised almost everyone was watching him, he couldn't help casting a pleading look at Adrian.
But… there was nothing to be done. Adrian could only give him a reassuring smile.
You couldn't very well stop people from looking.
Even if it didn't help in any practical sense, Harry still felt much steadier inside.
What followed was a procedure Adrian knew well.
Professor McGonagall brought out a four-legged stool, and the tattered Sorting Hat was set upon it.
At the sight of the Sorting Hat, Adrian had a sudden idea and asked the Tree of Wisdom to analyse it.
"Eldra."
[Name: Sorting Hat]
[Description: An alchemical product]
…
All right—Adrian was a little disappointed.
It seemed that with the Tree of Wisdom's current ability, it could only tell that the hat before him was an alchemical product; everything else was unknown—
neither the materials nor the method of manufacture.
However, just as Adrian bade the Tree of Wisdom analyse the Sorting Hat, the hat suddenly stirred.
It looked left, looked right, as if it sensed something amiss, and suddenly said, "Feels like someone's watching me."
"Everyone is watching you, Mr Sorting Hat," Professor McGonagall couldn't help reminding it.
"All right, you're right," the Sorting Hat said, pursing what passed for lips. "There's something more important to do now—I've been waiting for this day for ages."
With that, the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and suddenly began to sing:
You may think I'm not much to look at,
But don't you judge by what you see.
…
It was the familiar tune to Adrian, but the lyrics were different.
Truly, the Sorting Hat had it hard—coming up with a different set of lyrics every year.
Hogwarts had existed for over a thousand years, which meant the Sorting Hat had composed over a thousand versions of its song.
Adrian could only say he was impressed.
When the song ended, the hat bowed to each of the four House tables amid applause.
Once that was done, the Sorting Hat was to begin its duty.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward a few paces, a piece of parchment in hand—the list of this year's Hogwarts students.
"Now, when I call your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and wait to be Sorted."
"Hannah Abbott!"
Hannah Abbott was a rosy-cheeked girl with two blond plaits.
Only now did Harry learn that Sorting at Hogwarts was done by putting on a hat that could sing.
This allowed him to relax.
Before this, following tradition, Adrian had told him nothing about the details of the Sorting.
He'd thought the entrance exam at Hogwarts would require them to defeat some kind of monster.
That was why he had tried so hard to memorise so many spells before term began.
…
At last, the hat shouted Hannah Abbott's House.
"Hufflepuff!"
As expected—same as before.
Adrian smiled and began clapping first.
His own House had gained a new student—cause for celebration.
For Adrian, a graduate of Hufflepuff, the more Hufflepuff first-years the better.
"Susan Bones!"
"Terry Boot!"
…
One by one, students were sent to their proper Houses by the Sorting Hat.
Adrian applauded each student.
Of course, if the student went to Hufflepuff, his applause was louder.
"Harry Potter!"
At last, Harry Potter's name came from Professor McGonagall's lips.
As Harry walked forward, he found the attention on him had grown even more; everyone stared at him, whispering.
He suddenly grew nervous and—by habit—cast his eyes towards Adrian.
Adrian's mouth lifted slightly; he quietly formed a silent word with his lips—"Hufflepuff."
Hufflepuff?
Harry remembered that was Adrian's House.
Going to his teacher's House? That wouldn't be bad either.
So long as it wasn't Slytherin—honestly, he could accept anything else.
Before he could think further, he had reached the four-legged stool.
Harry took a deep breath and sat down; then the shabby Sorting Hat was placed on his head.
The hat's voice followed, sounding in his mind.
"Hmm…"
"Difficult. Very difficult."
"Courage, kindness, talent—ah, you've plenty of all that. Very good."
"So where shall I put you?"
"Hm, you want Hufflepuff? A fine choice. Of course, Slytherin would suit you very well too."
At that, Harry hurriedly repeated in his heart that he mustn't go to Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, is it?"
"Oh, very well—I always respect a young witch or wizard's choice."
"Gryffindor!"
At last, the hat shouted Harry's House.
Only then did Harry breathe a little easier. Gryffindor was good too.
When the hat had said "Slytherin would suit you very well," he had nearly panicked.
Fortunately, he had not gone to Slytherin.
At that moment, when Adrian heard that Harry's House was Gryffindor after all, he felt a twinge of regret.
He'd thought he might coax Harry into Hufflepuff.
Of course, the final result had to be where Harry truly fit. Without question, Gryffindor was the place most suited to Harry.
…
As Harry walked towards the Gryffindor table, all the Gryffindor students erupted in cheers.
But he paid them no mind; he only looked towards Adrian.
When he saw his teacher's gratified smile, Harry finally felt at ease.
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