The massive doors opened immediately. Standing in the doorway was a tall, black-haired witch wearing an emerald-green robe. Her expression was stern. Hogwarts professors seem quite skilled, Augustus thought to himself as he discreetly nodded in approval at the sight of the woman.
"First-year students, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here."
Following Professor McGonagall, the group entered the castle. Torches burned brightly on the stone walls, casting flickering shadows. The ceiling soared so high it seemed almost invisible, and a grand marble staircase stretched upwards to the upper floors.
As they walked across the stone floor, Augustus could hear the murmuring voices of hundreds of students coming from a door on the right. Clearly, the other students had already arrived.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your respective houses. Sorting is a crucial ceremony because, during your time at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will attend classes, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your leisure time in your house common room with your housemates."
She continued, "The names of the four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While at Hogwarts, your successes will earn your house points, whereas any rule-breaking will cost your house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, which is a great honor. I hope that, no matter which house you are placed in, you will bring pride to it."
Augustus already knew much about the four houses. His mother had been a Ravenclaw, while his father was a Slytherin. However, to Augustus, it didn't matter which house he ended up in; he was confident his parents wouldn't mind too much either way.
"Now, straighten yourselves up," Professor McGonagall instructed. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. I'll return shortly to lead you in."
Her sharp eyes lingered briefly on Neville's askew robe—its clasp hanging under his left ear—and the smudge of dirt on Ron's nose before she turned and left the room.
Harry took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. He glanced at Ron, who looked equally anxious; Hermione, who seemed to be whispering spells under her breath; and Augustus, who remained poised and composed as ever. Somehow, seeing Augustus so calm made Harry feel a bit more at ease.
"How do you think they'll decide which house we go into?" Ron asked nervously, turning to Harry and Augustus. "Fred told me it's some awful test that really hurts. I think he was joking, though."
Augustus, who had been admiring the castle's moving staircases and enchanted portraits, sighed and replied, "Ron, it seems your brothers enjoy teasing you. The school wouldn't conduct a test that could harm new students. That would violate the most basic rules."
"Exactly," Hermione chimed in. "If you'd read Hogwarts: A History, you'd know there's never been a record of a first-year getting hurt before even starting school."
Relieved by Augustus and Hermione's explanations, Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So, they're not going to make us perform—"
Before he could finish, the doors opened once more, and Professor McGonagall returned.
"Now, form a single line," she instructed. "Follow me."
Harry's legs felt like lead, but somehow he managed to stand in line behind Augustus, with Ron behind him. They left the room, crossed the entrance hall, and entered the Great Hall through a set of double doors.
The Great Hall was magnificent. Four long tables filled with students stretched across the room, illuminated by thousands of floating candles suspended in midair. The tables glittered with golden plates and goblets. At the far end of the hall was another long table, reserved for the teachers.
Professor McGonagall led the first-years to the front of the hall, where they faced the older students. The flickering candlelight cast a soft glow over the hundreds of faces watching them, while shimmering ghosts drifted among the students, adding an otherworldly touch.
As Augustus walked in, his composed and elegant demeanor immediately drew attention. Among the nervous first-years, he stood out with his calm poise. His striking golden hair and refined features only added to the impression, and many students turned to whisper about him. Some of the girls giggled quietly, sneaking glances at him with delight.
However, Augustus's gaze was fixed on one person: the white-haired headmaster seated at the center of the staff table, Albus Dumbledore. To Augustus's eyes, Dumbledore was like a massive ball of light and warmth, radiating an immense magical aura that filled the entire hall. There was a sense of irresistible power and authority about him.
This is what a legend looks like, Augustus thought, narrowing his silver eyes slightly in awe.
Noticing Augustus's attention, Dumbledore looked back at him with a curious expression before breaking into a kind, grandfatherly smile. Augustus returned the smile politely and then shifted his focus back to the ceremony.
Professor McGonagall placed a patched, ancient, and extremely dirty wizard's hat on a four-legged stool. Augustus raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the magical aura radiating from the hat. Clearly, this was no ordinary object.
The hall fell silent. Then, the hat twitched. A wide tear near its brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing:
(The Sorting Hat's Song)
When the hat finished its song, the hall erupted in applause. The Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four house tables before falling still once more.
"What an interesting artifact," Augustus murmured, clapping his hands lightly.
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