Dumbledore made a snap decision to nip this terrifying possibility in the bud while it was still just that—a possibility.
So when Professor McGonagall finally led the long-waiting first-years to the front of the Great Hall—
He cleared his throat and rose to his feet, determined to focus every student's and staff member's attention—especially those two unstable factors, one large and one small—squarely on himself, disrupting their thought processes.
"Welcome, welcome!" He commandeered the Sorting Hat's job, speaking before it could open its mouth to sing, while simultaneously taking the parchment from Professor McGonagall's hands. "Welcome our new students, and of course, welcome back our returning ones—next comes Hogwarts' traditional Sorting Ceremony—"
From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the staff table—excellent, that gaze was now focused on him.
He turned his head slightly, casually looking toward the Slytherin table—very good, that gaze was fixed on the pudding, with no intersection with the other line of sight.
"The new school year awaits you with Hogwarts' continuously improving magical education—hmm, let me see who's first on our list of new students—"
Professor McGonagall, left empty-handed by Dumbledore's unprecedented departure from tradition, looked thoroughly surprised, but chose to understand and support her Headmaster, quietly gesturing for him to proceed while stepping aside.
The students barely reacted to this altered speaking order—they were momentarily startled, then settled into quiet listening.
But amid all this calm—
Dumbledore, with his attention overly concentrated on those two individuals, had clearly forgotten there was also a sentient magical hat present.
The mouth that had just opened on the Hat's body was forced shut by his interruption, and the new lyrics and melody it had composed all summer were brutally stifled.
This caused a tremendously loud voice to suddenly burst forth from the front of the hall, filled with dissatisfaction and protest, pitched so shrilly it nearly shattered the glasses on the staff table:
"Don't judge me by my tattered patches,No headmaster shows me disrespect,The four founders of this magic schoolNever once silenced my singing voice!"
The shabby Sorting Hat writhed its body vigorously, creating curved, drooping folds like a Shar Pei, its mouth corners turned severely downward, the eye-shaped areas similarly drooping, its body bobbing forward with its tip pointing directly at Dumbledore, displaying its fury in full.
The Great Hall erupted in commotion again as students couldn't control themselves from looking at the comically postured Sorting Hat, beginning to laugh before covering their mouths under their House Heads' glares, stifling their sounds.
Dumbledore's hand holding the parchment began to tremble slightly!
Making such a spectacle on the very first day in front of all students and professors filled him with the mortifying taste of burning embarrassment—he wished he could start fresh and build another Hogwarts on the spot.
His peripheral vision again swept toward the staff table and Slytherin table—they appeared normal, though both had their mouth corners quirked up, making his toes curl, but thankfully their gazes hadn't intersected...
"My apologies. I deeply respect the magical hat left by Hogwarts' founders," Dumbledore steadied himself and offered his apology. "I believe everyone is eager to hear your voice."
The Sorting Hat, puffing with indignation, let out a loud "Humph!" and twisted its body back around, beginning the song it had painstakingly composed all summer:
"Long ago, four good friendsBuilt the greatest magical school together,Letting ancient knowledge pass through generations....Slytherin departed from the school,Solid friendship reached its end,Rifts grew between the four Houses..."
This verse was much the same as last year's, introducing Hogwarts' four founders, describing their history from founding to division, and introducing the qualities each House valued.
Seeing one unstable factor listening intently while the other... was eating with gusto, Dumbledore breathed a slight sigh of relief, waiting for the Sorting Hat to finish singing and begin its sorting duties—
But it paused briefly, then launched into new verses!
"The thousand-year school faces troubles within and without,Terrifying dark clouds shroud the sky,Death's deity patrols everywhere.Though my duty cannot be set aside,You're destined to be sorted into four Houses;But the dawn ending division has already appeared,Progressive youth unite around it,Wise elders bow their heads to it,A new era is born amid crisis,The clever have already made their choice...This is my counsel to you all—The Sorting Ceremony now begins."
The previously quiet Great Hall immediately exploded!
Sorting ceremonies, new student welcomes, Headmaster's addresses—all became unimportant as everyone whispered among themselves, sneaking glances at the Slytherin table while discussing the Sorting Hat's meaning. Applause and voices mingled together into a rushing torrent.
Almost reflexively, Dumbledore, having roughly understood the Sorting Hat's words, shot his gaze toward the staff table at light speed—
He nearly fainted on the spot!
That gaze was indeed once again blatantly directed toward the Slytherin table, carrying three parts interest, three parts amusement, and four parts casual indifference!
Dumbledore stiffly turned his head toward Jane Yu—
She was surrounded by the little Slytherin snakes, with every remaining student on half the table occasionally turning to look at her, eyes carrying the proud meaning of "I really am clever" and "I really am progressive youth," as if they could create a new era together at any moment!
And Jane Yu's gaze was directed toward the front with surprise—
She was probably looking at the Sorting Hat...
But Dumbledore could no longer care what exactly she was looking at.
He wished he could transform into a screen on the spot, blocking her gaze toward the front, terrified those two lines of sight might collide.
As if they were some kind of flood or savage beast—one collision could trigger a massive explosion sending the entire school and all of Britain away.
What did it mean for a thousand-year school to face troubles within and without? He'd never had such profound understanding!
Internally: explosion-prone laboratories and what appeared to be a perfectly matched old and young pair who could conspire to send the school skyward; externally: Voldemort and Death Eaters stirring restlessly, extending their claws into the school attempting assassination...
For a moment, Dumbledore thought of his future of constant fear and anxiety, never daring to let his guard down...
He felt he'd aged a full ten years!
At this moment, only one thought flashed through his mind:
For Hogwarts' sake, he absolutely could not allow these two people any opportunity to be alone together!
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