YOUR POWER STONE INCREASES MY POWER TO UP FASTER
THANKS !
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After Hermione's persuasion, Ron decided to stop watching Draco and chose to ignore his provocations.
As things settled, Ron turned his attention to talking with the others about the Sorting Ceremony.
After worrying about whether he might be expelled, Ron's next bout of anxiety focused on the Sorting.
He wasn't the only one. Soon, all the young witches and wizards from pureblood families began to feel the same anxiety. Even Draco, usually so smug, turned pale.
"My father… my father said that when he entered, he had to fight a werewolf…" Draco said.
Hearing this, everyone's faces turned a deep shade of purple.
The crowd buzzed for a while longer until, suddenly, the Great Hall fell silent.
Carried by the stillness, everyone stopped talking altogether.
Professor McGonagall walked to the front, gently placing a four-legged stool before the first-year students.
On top of the stool, she placed a pointed wizard's hat, patched, old, and very worn.
Harry recognized it—it was the very same Sorting Hat used when he had first come to Hogwarts.
The hat twitched, and the brim split open, revealing a wide gap like a mouth—
It began to sing.
Sorting Hat's Song
"You may think I'm not much to look at,
But don't judge a book by its cover, my friend.
If you can find a hat more charming than me,
I'll happily eat myself in the end.
Your top hats may shine with an ebony gleam,
Your tall silk hats may stand up so neat,
But I am the magical Sorting Hat,
And my skill can't be beat.
Hidden in your mind are thoughts and dreams,
None can escape my sharp insight.
Place me on your head and take a chance—
I'll guide you to where your future is bright.
Perhaps you'll belong in brave Gryffindor,
Where dwell the daring and the bold.
Their nerve and chivalry set them apart,
Their legends forever told.
Or maybe in kind Hufflepuff,
Where honesty and loyalty stay.
Hard work and dedication define their hearts,
Through toil, they light the way.
In wise old Ravenclaw, you might fit in,
With wit, knowledge, and intellect to spare.
They welcome all those who love to learn,
To share the heights of wisdom there.
Or else in cunning Slytherin,
Where ambition and resourcefulness rule.
They'll help you achieve your greatest desires,
Though slyness may be their tool.
So don't be afraid, come give it a try,
Let me decide your fate.
On your head, I sit with care—
Your secrets are safe, don't hesitate!
For I am the magical Sorting Hat,
A talking hat with a purpose grand.
Now let the ceremony begin—
Welcome to Hogwarts!"
The Hall erupted into applause as the Sorting Hat bowed theatrically to each of the four house tables before settling back into stillness.
"So… we just have to wear the hat?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "I'm definitely going to kill Fred and George. They told me I'd have to fight a troll! The worst part is I believed them!"
"And your dad? Didn't he tell you you'd be fighting a giant spider?" Harry added with a smirk.
Ron froze. "Uh… well, that's not… entirely necessary."
Harry chuckled, pleased at having teased his friend.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a roll of parchment in her hand.
She reached out and grabbed the tip of the Sorting Hat, lifting it up.
"Hey, don't treat an old hat like that!" the hat grumbled. "I'm old enough as it is without being manhandled!"
The crowd laughed at the hat's humor.
McGonagall ignored the complaints and began. "When I call your name, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await your Sorting."
Without looking at the list, she called out, "Hannah Abbott!"
A rosy-cheeked girl with blonde braids stumbled forward, placed the hat on her head, and sat down. After a moment of silence—
"Hufflepuff!" the hat declared.
The table on the right applauded loudly, welcoming her to sit with them. Harry noticed the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's house ghost, waving at her enthusiastically.
"Susan Bones!" McGonagall announced.
"Hufflepuff!"
Susan quickly ran over to join Hannah.
"Terry Boot!"
"Ravenclaw!"
Applause came from the second table to the left, and Terry joined a group of students who stood to shake his hand.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Hermione Granger!"
"Go on, Hermione," Ron encouraged.
Hermione took a deep breath, ran to the stool, and hurriedly placed the hat on her head.
"Gryffindor!"
Ron grinned in satisfaction.
"Neville Longbottom!"
Neville tripped on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide, but eventually declared, "Gryffindor!"
Neville, forgetting to return the hat, ran back to his seat with it still on his head.
"Hey, boy, bring me back!" the hat shouted. "I'm flattered you like me, but I'm not a souvenir!"
Neville turned beet red and quickly returned the hat amidst laughter.
When Malfoy's name was called, he strutted forward confidently.
The hat barely touched his head before it yelled, "Slytherin!"
Malfoy joined Crabbe and Goyle, looking smug.
Eventually, McGonagall called out, "Harry Potter!"
The Hall buzzed with whispers.
"Potter? Did she say Potter?"
"Is it the Harry Potter?"
All eyes turned to him, curious about the fate of the boy they'd grown up hearing stories about.
Harry walked forward calmly, took the hat with both hands, and thanked McGonagall, earning a small, warm smile from her.
He placed the hat on his head, and instantly, its voice echoed in his mind.
"Ah? Back again? Funny, I could've sworn I'd already Sorted you once…"
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