Slytherin disappointed Harry.
I'm so disappointed. Give me my money back!
Perhaps they were used to the Sorting Hat criticizing them, or perhaps they didn't think that being described as "treacherous and cunning" and "achieving goals by any means necessary" was derogatory.
Harry's gaze shifted back to the Sorting Hat. Its wisdom was profound, and he knew it must be a powerful piece of alchemy. Because of its power, it didn't look tattered at all—and Harry wanted it.
After the Hat finished its song, the entire hall erupted into thunderous applause. The Hat bowed toward each of the four house tables and then fell silent.
"It seems we just need to put on this Hat—there's no combat trial," Ron whispered to Harry. "But the ghosts earlier weren't your problem. My brothers said they had to wrestle a Troll."
Harry smiled faintly. He had been impulsive, but he preferred to act first when those under his protection—whether disliked relatives like the Dursleys or young followers like Ron—were at risk. That way, he could prevent regrets.
He had experienced regret many times in the past; now he had learned to make his opponents regret their actions. This was not benevolence—it was selfishness, the domineering nature of Daniel Akaka.
At that moment, Professor McGonagall stepped forward a few paces, holding a roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, put on the Hat, sit on the stool, and await your house assignment," she instructed.
"Hannah Abbott!"
A small girl with golden braids walked forward and sat on the chair.
[Kingship, Witness]
[Reward: Bronze Attribute Point ×1]
The system immediately sent a notification.
Harry blinked. ???
What major event had occurred? Could it be tied to Hannah Abbott? Who was she?
Harry studied her carefully, but she seemed utterly ordinary, giving him no insight. He couldn't discern whether to recruit her into his legion.
"Susan Bones!" "Terry Boot!" "Justin Finch-Fletchley!" More names were called, each student assigned to a house. Sometimes the Hat immediately shouted a house name; other times it hesitated, perhaps weighing multiple traits.
Indeed, a person could be both brave and intelligent, ambitious and honest. These students didn't receive new attribute points. Harry set aside his confusion. He never lingered on matters beyond understanding, including his transmigration. Perhaps the attribute point came from the act of participating in the Sorting Ceremony itself, rather than from Hannah.
Each house applauded when a new student was sorted, but all attention ultimately returned to Harry. Everyone glanced at him repeatedly.
They all knew the famous Savior would be starting school that year. Even those who didn't know were swept up in the discussion once others began talking.
Seeing him in person was extraordinary. If he had been the original scrawny, ordinary Harry, they might have dismissed him after a glance. Some may have even grumbled that a Savior should look more impressive.
The current Harry, however—the King—was different. Meeting him brought a thrill, a sense of encountering a living legend.
Hermione and Neville, who had accompanied Harry, were both sorted into Gryffindor. This aligned with Harry's judgment. He had long observed that they possessed bold characters, though he suspected Hermione might have excelled in Ravenclaw. Perhaps Dumbledore's influence and the Sorting Hat's praise for Gryffindor had guided her decision; Hermione seemed easily swayed by authority.
Finally, it was Harry's turn.
"Harry Potter!"
A hum of whispers rippled through the Great Hall, like the hiss of tiny flames. Everyone inhaled sharply, and the temperature dropped several degrees. The ghosts' emotional fluctuations contributed to the chill; necromancy and cold always seemed intertwined.
"Potter, is it finally Potter's turn?"
"Is that Harry Potter?"
"Does he really have the power to fight ghosts?"
"More than that—he just tried to fight Professor Snape! When that ice spear appeared, all the ghosts wanted to kneel."
"Could he be a battle maniac?"
"It's hard to believe that a one-year-old child could leave a crib and face the most terrifying Dark Lord. Ridiculous!"
"Perhaps in the future, he'll battle the Professors at school."
"He's so impressive—not his face, but his aura. Is he really eleven?"
"I hope he gets sorted into our house. That way, we'd be on the same side in conflicts."
As the Hat was placed over his head, Harry saw the Great Hall teeming with people, everyone craning their necks for a glimpse. It felt like a coronation.
So this is what it feels like. He recalled how the first new student, Hannah, had been observed closely, but no one had watched the others with such intensity.
A faint voice whispered in his ear.
"Difficult… very difficult. Clearly exceptionally, exceptionally, exceptionally brave, and incredibly ambitious. Oh my goodness, you are truly a talented wizard—whether Gryffindor… or Slytherin… Wait, wisdom… Are you really wise? Interesting."
Harry realized he could succeed in any house. The Hat's deliberation wouldn't affect his participation in events or academics.
Since that's the case, I must go to Ravenclaw! Am I not as smart as some young wizards? I've eaten more salt than they've eaten rice—let me show them my wisdom!
"Oh? You really want Ravenclaw? This might be tricky."
"No, just kidding."
The curriculum was identical across houses. Harry believed he could thrive anywhere. Like the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, he saw the collective's honor as flowing from him, not the reverse.
He wasn't like Ron, whose family lineage dictated Gryffindor placement. His parents had passed long ago; he owed no such consideration.
Harry believed that any house that received him would be honored.
An old Chinese saying came to mind: "Today I am proud of my alma mater; tomorrow my alma mater will be proud of me." Another ancient proverb asked, "Are kings, nobles, generals, and ministers born into their positions?"
Even without noble birth, Harry had become Warden of the Entire Realm, Monarch of the Seven Kingdoms in feudal Westeros. Power determined kingship.
He had long understood the world's rules. Power sufficient to protect order was the ultimate legal principle.