The entire auditorium fell silent.
The older students from the other grades eagerly watched, waiting for the show to begin, while the new students nervously eyed the dirty, tattered hat as if a troll might leap out of it at any mont. Then, without warning, the hat began to wriggle. Its tip swayed side to side, while the brim undulated up and down, as if it were attempting to dance.
But the more Kyle observed, the more he felt that sothing was off.
How to describe it? Whoever had designed this sequence of movents clearly had no idea what they were doing. It reminded him of a flounder—a particularly unattractive one at that—flailing around awkwardly. And unlike the more graceful, fluid movents he’d expect, this one was stiff, clumsy, and lacking any sense of finesse.
It was also considerably uglier.
The Sorting Hat, apparently aware that dancing wasn’t its strong suit, soon stopped its movents. Instead, it split open a mouth-like gap and began to hum softly before launching into its song:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than .
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any ans
To achieve their ends.
So put on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
When the song ended, thunderous applause erupted throughout the auditorium. It was clear that the students in the wizarding world were quite polite when it ca to tradition.
The Sorting Hat bowed deeply toward each of the four tables, then remained still, no longer moving.
Although the Sorting Hat's song was a bit difficult to understand, the new students gradually figured out that the "Sorting" simply involved wearing the hat. This realization brought a sense of relief to many. Compared to the wild rumors they'd heard, just wearing a hat seed easy enough. Sure, the hat was dirty, old, and not particularly appealing, but it would only be for a brief mont—they wouldn’t have to wear it for long.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a parchnt in her hand. “When I call your na, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and wait to be sorted.”
She glanced at the parchnt. “Thomas Albright.”
A blond boy with his head held high strode confidently over to the stool, placed the hat on his head, and, after a few monts, the Sorting Hat announced: “Ravenclaw!”
The boy looked pleased as he removed the Sorting Hat. Despite being sorted into Ravenclaw, he couldn’t resist walking over to the Gryffindor table, where the applause was the loudest at that mont.
“Marietta Edgecombe!”
A little girl bounded up excitedly, grabbed the Sorting Hat, and placed it on her head.
“Ravenclaw!” the hat declared.
“Oh, that's great!”
The first new student being sorted into Gryffindor had already thrilled the Gryffindors, and the young eagles were ecstatic, cheering so loudly it seed like the ceiling might lift off.
“Katie Bell!”
This ti, a nervous young girl rushed up, hurriedly jamming the Sorting Hat onto her head. In her fluster, she pushed it down too hard, causing her head to poke out of the hat, with only her neck exposed.
“Hahaha!”
The entire hall erupted in laughter.
Professor McGonagall sighed and quickly stepped forward to adjust the hat for her.
“Thanks, Professor McGonagall, I thought I was going to suffocate,” Katie said with relief.
The Sorting Hat gave a nod to Professor McGonagall. “Without a doubt, Gryffindor!”
A deafening cheer burst from the Gryffindor table at the far left of the hall. Fred and George Weasley stood on their stools, whistling in excitent—it was clear they had taken an instant liking to Katie Bell. She rushed down the stairs, her face flushed with embarrassnt.
The Sorting continued, but Professor McGonagall decided it was best to oversee it more closely, just in case there was another mishap. Instead of stepping aside as she had earlier, she stood behind the stool, holding the Sorting Hat in one hand and the parchnt in the other.
“Cho Chang!”
An Asian girl calmly walked up to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall carefully placed the Sorting Hat on her head.
“Ravenclaw!”
“Oh!”
For the third ti, the Sorting Hat called out the na of Ravenclaw, sending the young students of that house into a frenzy. So stood on their stools, kicking their feet in excitent, while others grabbed flowers from the table decorations and tossed them into the air. Their usual reserved deanor vanished as they erupted into wild cheers.
“Three! We’ve already got three new students, and the Sorting’s just begun!”
“Ravenclaw’s going to rise this year!”
...
The professors on stage didn’t intervene at first, simply watching the excitent with smiles on their faces. However, when the students began tossing plates in their enthusiasm, Professor McGonagall stepped forward, her expression stern.
The effect was imdiate. The young eagles, who had been full of wild energy monts ago, instantly quieted down, as though they’d been doused with cold water. Their transformation from jubilant eagles to ek quails was almost comical as they sat back down at their table, behaving once again.
Seeing the effect of her presence, Professor McGonagall’s expression softened, and she returned to the parchnt in her hand.
“Omidyv Rowle!”
After a brief pause, the Sorting Hat announced, “Slytherin!”
The new students were slowly being sorted, and the crowd of first-years was thinning out. Kyle stood among them, waiting patiently for his na to be called. But for so reason, he felt an irritating itch between his shoulder blades, as if soone were poking him.
Instinctively, he turned his head and found Kanna glaring at him, her face flushed with anger. This wasn’t the usual shy look she wore—this ti, her fury was unmistakable. Her usually timid deanor had transford into sothing far more intense, her teeth grinding together as if she might pounce on him at any mont.
“Ahem... Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Kyle muttered, clearing his throat as though he hadn’t seen her, trying to act nonchalant. He turned back around and casually edged forward, hoping to put so distance between them.
But his attempt to escape was futile. There was only so much space in the room, and the crowd had thinned out too much for him to hide. No matter where he moved, Kanna’s eyes followed him, her gaze making him feel like a rat trapped on a hot tin roof.
Just as the tension beca unbearable, a voice rang out.
“Kyle Chopper!”
For the first ti in his life, Kyle found Professor McGonagall’s voice to be the most beautiful sound in the world, like music from heaven, offering him salvation from his predicant. To be honest, if there were ever another election for headmaster, he would vote for Professor McGonagall without hesitation.
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