Chapter 13
The first-years were already so nervous they could barely hold it together—so when a sudden scream rang out, it wasn't just one person who jumped. Everyone froze, terrified.
As it turned out, the scream came from someone startled by a group of about twenty ghosts who had suddenly floated through the back wall. They were translucent and pearl-white, gliding silently through the room, whispering to one another in ghostly tones.
One of them, dressed in a doublet with a ruffled collar straight out of the sixteenth century, paused mid-flight and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"We're this year's first-years," Sainz replied. Everyone else was too on edge to speak, so he took the initiative.
"Ah, how quickly time flies... So it's time for a new batch again," sighed a ghost who looked like a chubby little monk. His round face and friendly smile made him seem approachable. "They must be waiting for the entrance test?"
"Excuse me," Angelina asked cautiously, "could you tell us what kind of test it is?"
"Aha..." The ghosts exchanged knowing looks, their expressions full of amusement. Not one of them offered a real answer. The ghost in the ruffled collar replied, "You'll have to experience it yourselves. Please allow us to keep that secret."
The fat friar added that he had been in Hufflepuff and hoped some of them would be sorted there too.
Just then, Professor McGonagall returned. "Now then, everyone line up. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin."
Many of the children looked ready to bolt. They shuffled nervously into a line, some practically glued to the person in front of them. But there was no escaping—Professor McGonagall led them out of the room, across the entrance hall, and through a set of double doors into the most magnificent room Sainz had ever seen.
The Great Hall.
Four long tables stretched from front to back, filled with older students already seated and watching. Thousands of floating candles lit the air above them, casting a warm, magical glow over the room.
Even Sainz, who still wanted to complain about relying on candlelight in the modern age, had to admit—it was breathtaking.
He glanced around. The tables were covered in glittering golden plates and elegant goblets.
At the far end of the hall was another, smaller table raised on a dais—where the professors sat. There was Professor Sinistra, just as she had been in Diagon Alley, wearing the same silver and black starry robe.
Professor McGonagall led the first-years up to the front and had them line up with their backs to the professors, facing the entire student body. The flickering candlelight danced on hundreds of faces turned toward them.
Ghosts drifted among the upperclassmen like pale, silver lanterns.
Looking up, the ceiling was an endless night sky, glittering with stars. It looked so real that Sainz heard Hermione's voice echoing in his memory: "The ceiling's enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History."
It really did look like there was no ceiling at all.
Professor McGonagall brought out a four-legged stool and placed a tattered, patched wizard hat on top of it. It looked like it hadn't been washed in centuries—worn, frayed, and dusty.
Everyone fell silent.
Suddenly, the hat twitched. A wide rip opened near its brim like a yawning mouth. Sainz knew what was coming.
Sure enough, the hat began to sing:
The castle stands on mountain high,
Where dreams and magic touch the sky.
Four founders built it, bold and wise—
With hearts of fire and starry eyes.
A home for courage, clever thought,
For loyalty and power sought.
In ancient halls, their call still rings,
As Sorting brings the house that sings.
Gryffindor's the fearless flame,
Who dares to win and play the game.
Slytherin, with cunning pride,
Will lead with power at your side.
Ravenclaw, sharp of mind and lore,
Will teach you truth and so much more.
And Hufflepuff, so kind and true,
Will build the bonds that carry you.
Let the Sorting Hat now see your soul,
And place you where you'll reach your goal.
Through every door and corridor,
Adventure waits—and so much more.
Hogwarts, wondrous, wild, and wide—
This magic home will be your guide.
A thousand stars above your head,
Let dreams arise where once you tread.
When the hat finished its song, the hall erupted in applause. It bowed to each of the four house tables, then sat still.
The tense young wizards around Sainz let out long sighs of relief.
Some even cursed softly, "All we have to do is wear the hat? Peart told me I'd have to fight a three-headed dog…"
Professor McGonagall unrolled a long parchment and called out the first name.
"Angelina Johnson!"
The wheat-skinned girl standing beside Sainz looked terrified but stepped forward. She sat down and barely had the hat on her head before it shouted, "Gryffindor!"
Cheers erupted from the far-left table. Angelina smiled nervously, removed the hat, and joined her new housemates, who were waving her over.
"Adam Summers!"
A thin, pale boy walked up next. After about ten seconds, the hat called, "Hufflepuff!"
He went to the far-right table, where the friendly ghost friar was waiting to greet him.
"Aliya Spinnet!"
"Gryffindor!"
"Ben Stebbins!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Fred Weasley!"
"Gryffindor!"
A girl with brown-red hair approached quietly.
"Florence Cebephia."
"Ravenclaw!"
She became the first Ravenclaw of the evening. Cheers came from the second table on the left. A few excited boys stood up and waved until a stern girl, likely the prefect, made them sit down.
"George Weasley!"
"Gryffindor!"
"Karon Lawrence!"
This boy had the kind of calm demeanor that didn't match his age, his hair perfectly styled.
"Slytherin!" the hat announced instantly.
He walked to the second table on the right, visibly relieved.
"Cassius Warrington!"
"Slytherin!"
"Roger Davis!"
"Ravenclaw!"
More names followed. Gryffindor welcomed several more, including Lee Jordan, who would later become a Quidditch commentator. Slytherin added Maurice Montague, Miles Bletchley, and Hugh Travis.
As usual, Hufflepuff ended up with the most.
"Cedric Diggory!"
"Hufflepuff!"
Sainz noted that Cedric really was quite handsome—even more so than described in the books. He thought, In Harry Potter, Cedric was practically perfect. And of course, most perfect characters don't get perfect endings... Cedric had been killed at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.
Then—
"Sainz Autumn!"
Professor McGonagall glanced at him over her glasses. Clearly, she remembered this lone Asian face among the new students.
Sainz stepped forward calmly, lifted the ragged Sorting Hat, and placed it on his head.
A voice echoed in his mind.
"Hmm… calm—unusually so for someone your age. There's tenacity here… and courage. Ah, such hunger for knowledge! Ravenclaw, perhaps?"
"But wait… there's ambition, too. A deep one. Not selfish, no… just focused. That could lead you far in Slytherin."
"No? You don't want Slytherin?"
"Very well. I respect your choice."
Then, loud and clear, the Sorting Hat called out:
"Hufflepuff!!!"
******
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