The Sorting Hat placed the power of choice in Makiya's hands.
"Little fellow, would you like me to introduce the four houses to you?"
Without waiting for Makiya's answer, the Sorting Hat began to speak of its own accord.
"Slytherin welcomes only pure-blood wizards—those with fierce ambition and grand aspirations. They thirst for success, power, and status, and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals."
"Gryffindor prizes the quality of courage and fearlessness. Its members find the nerve to make decisive choices in the face of danger and challenge, possessing an adventurous spirit and the daring to try new things."
"The wizards of Ravenclaw possess sharp minds and the ability to learn quickly. They can easily grasp complex magical knowledge and theory. They have an intense curiosity about the world and the unknown, constantly seeking greater depth and breadth in their pursuit of knowledge."
The Sorting Hat's voice paused briefly, and Makiya joked, "And what about Hufflepuff? I suppose everyone else just goes there?"
"Oh, certainly not. Hufflepuff wizards must be diligent and down-to-earth," the Sorting Hat's voice continued. "They are willing to put in hard work to complete their tasks and studies without looking for shortcuts. They are loyal, honest, kind, and excellent at working as a team."
Makiya looked toward the Hufflepuff table. A handsome boy named Cedric stood out in the crowd; his performance in the later Triwizard Tournament would be truly brilliant, proving him more than worthy of being called a champion.
With the explanations finished, the Sorting Hat waited quietly for Makiya to make his decision.
Makiya knew the traits of the four houses well. After weighing the pros and cons, he immediately ruled out Slytherin and Hufflepuff.
Four minus two... the five remaining houses each had their own merits: Ravenclaw, Azkaban, Civil Engineering, Nurmengard, and Gryffindor. These names flashed through his mind before Makiya finally made his decision.
"Mr. Sorting Hat, I wish to go to Ravenclaw."
To Makiya, the knowledge passed down through a millennium of magical history was the true treasure.
He had no intention of being a babysitter in Gryffindor. He would much rather spend his days buried in the library or in his own small cottage by the Forbidden Forest, researching magic, brewing potions, or crafting alchemical items.
He preferred to hole up in his own little world and ignore the chaos of the outside world.
He was only eleven, after all. He needed a few years to grow and develop.
"So, you've chosen Ravenclaw, then?" The Sorting Hat pursed its lips and announced loudly to the hall, "RAVENCLAW!"
Thunderous applause erupted in the Great Hall. The wizards of Ravenclaw waved to Makiya, gesturing for the young wizard to come join the family.
Except for one person.
The Ravenclaw male prefect looked as though he were at a funeral. He could feel the eyes of the other prefects on him, as if they were urging him to fulfill their agreement.
Gritting his teeth, he decided to find an opportunity to have a proper chat with Makiya and feel him out.
The Sorting Ceremony continued. Harry Potter's appearance drew the expected spotlight, and just like in the original story, he was sorted into Gryffindor.
Applause and cheers rang out again, louder and longer than before. Headmaster Dumbledore even clapped enthusiastically with both hands and raised his glass to Harry.
But Harry himself didn't seem particularly happy. If he had his way, he would have preferred to be in the same house as Makiya.
The ceremony continued in a lively atmosphere until every young wizard had found their place. With a command from Dumbledore, countless platters of exquisite food appeared on the long tables.
The banquet began, and the hungry crowd started to dig in.
But the final classic act had yet to play out. The older students wore mischievous grins, silently waiting for the ghosts hidden in the shadows to make their entrance.
At a certain moment, from the walls, behind statues, and from beneath the tables, the ghosts of the castle emerged simultaneously from all directions, drifting up and down around the students.
Chaos broke out among the first-years as girls began to scream one after another.
The professors and older students shared knowing smiles, enjoying the spectacle.
Makiya took a bite of a drumstick, silently sensing the magical fluctuations of the ghosts.
The ghosts of the Harry Potter world were quite unique. No one knew exactly how they were formed, though some scholars believed they were tied to lingering obsessions. Perhaps records of this existed in the archives of some ancient families.
After all, this was a world governed by will.
The variety of food was extensive, but the taste was nothing special—at best, it was mediocre.
He felt a wave of gratitude for the hardworking house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchens. Without them, Dumbledore might have had to hire local chefs, which would have been a disaster.
The other wizards, however, ate with great relish. To those who grew up in Britain, the food at Hogwarts was indeed considered a rare delicacy.
When the feast ended, the students were led to their respective dormitories by their prefects.
Climbing the ever-shifting stairs in the towers, the Ravenclaws arrived at the fifth floor of the west tower, stopping before a door with an eagle-shaped bronze knocker.
As the knocker was struck, a deep male voice echoed from the eagle's head: "I have no mouth, yet I scream; I have no wings, yet I fly; I have no body, yet I move; I have no life, yet I grow. What am I?"
The prefect who had knocked thought for a moment before answering, "The wind."
The eagle knocker went silent for a beat before saying, "Reasonable."
The heavy door swung outward, revealing the Ravenclaw Common Room.
"As you can see," the prefect said as he led them inside, introducing the house rules. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure. To enter the Ravenclaw dormitory, you must answer the knocker's riddle. If you answer incorrectly, you'll simply have to wait for a smarter person to open the door."
The knocker's questions were like brain teasers, yet different; there were no strictly correct answers, as long as the logic held up.
As the boys and girls headed up to their rooms through the common room, the prefect watched Makiya's retreating figure. He hesitated for a moment before calling out, "Makiya, could you stay behind for a moment?"
The other students turned their heads, their curious gazes darting between the prefect and Makiya, wondering what kind of secret meeting they were about to have.
A question mark practically popped up over Makiya's head.
Seeing the sincerity in the prefect's eyes, Makiya nodded and walked over to sit by the fireplace in the common room.
A roaring fire burned in the hearth, its light reflecting off Makiya's face and chasing away the strangely cold air of the castle.
He really liked this atmosphere and planned to set something similar up in his own little cottage.
Though building a fireplace would be quite the undertaking.
The prefect sat down on another sofa, waiting for the others to disperse before speaking.
A few moments later, only Makiya and the prefect remained in the common room. He cleared his throat and, with a hint of embarrassment, detailed the request from the four prefects.
Makiya realized what was going on—it was all because of that 'Dick-Knot' hex.
He didn't really care about keeping the spell a secret, but since these people were offering themselves up to be fleeced, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.
"I'm very interested in ancient magic books—the kind you can't find on the market," Makiya said. "Originals are best, but copies or handwritten versions will do."
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