As the train shuddered, its speed gradually slowed.
With a final clunk, it came to a stop.
Even wrapped in worn-out clothes, Ethan Vincent stood tall, his posture striking among the crowd.
And that wasn't all.
After word spread of his "heroic feat" on the train, the other students parted to make way for him.
This treatment outshone even that of the Boy Who Lived.
Following close behind Ethan, Harry and Ron moved effortlessly through the crowded corridor.
"Blimey," Ron muttered, gazing enviously at Ethan's back, "he's got more swagger than Percy when he first became a prefect."
As he spoke, Ron clutched a patched section of his robe.
"You're not half bad yourself, mate," Harry said reassuringly. "Ethan's just… one of a kind."
Ron gave a weak smile.
Once they disembarked, Ethan thanked the prefect who held the carriage door open for them.
His soft cloth shoes sank into the damp earth, stirring the swirling mist of the night.
The young witches and wizards around him jostled noisily, yet there was always a clear space around Ethan.
"Haa—"
Ethan took a deep breath, captivated by the crisp, fresh air of the outdoors.
"First years! Over here!"
A deep, gruff voice boomed over the heads of the young students.
A towering figure holding a lantern loomed at the end of the path like a small mountain.
"I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts! First years, follow me!"
The little first years struggled through the crowd to keep up with the massive figure.
Ethan was among them, half-listening as Harry excitedly rambled on about Hagrid.
After passing through a narrow path, the view opened up breathtakingly.
A silver moon hung high, its ivory light spilling across the shimmering surface of the lake.
On the far shore, a grand castle perched atop a cliff, casting a dark shadow.
Yet, with warm, amber light glowing from its many windows, it didn't feel eerie—it felt like home.
"Wow!"
The first years gasped in unison.
Ethan overheard someone mutter, "This can't be a prank!"
For children from Muggle families, this must all seem like a dream too wonderful to be real.
Ethan was no exception.
He gazed at the castle, a wave of awe washing over him, just as it had at the station.
Boarding a swaying boat, Ethan's group included a boy named Michael Corner.
Michael prattled on about legends of the Black Lake, his voice growing louder whenever girls from other boats leaned closer.
"Show-off," Ron whispered to Ethan and Harry, giving a playful wink.
It seemed Ron had a grudge against anyone who flaunted their knowledge.
Or perhaps he was simply allergic to "knowledge" itself.
Ethan chuckled but didn't reply.
He turned his head, watching the majestic castle grow larger as they approached.
Once the boats reached the shore, they climbed stone steps and finally stood before Hogwarts' massive oak doors.
Knock, knock.
Hagrid rapped on the door with purpose.
The doors swung open, and Professor McGonagall, who had been waiting, stepped forward.
Her sharp gaze swept over a smudge on Ron's nose, lingered on Harry for a moment, and finally settled on Ethan.
When their eyes met, Ethan flashed a polite smile and nodded respectfully.
"…Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take it from here," Professor McGonagall said.
She certainly knew of Ethan Vincent.
His situation had caused quite a stir at the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts.
A tricky child.
Gifted, with a mind of his own.
Professor McGonagall shared Headmaster Dumbledore's view.
Though those paintings of his were… peculiar, to say the least.
For a young wizard his age, having a passion he pursued so earnestly was rare and valuable.
With proper guidance, Professor McGonagall believed Ethan could grow into an exceptional wizard.
Harry Potter, Ethan Vincent…
This year was brimming with talent.
Professor McGonagall sighed inwardly, filled with hope for Hogwarts' future.
"Hannah Abbott!"
"Hufflepuff!"
The girl hurriedly removed the Sorting Hat and rushed, red-faced, toward the cheering Hufflepuffs.
"It's just putting on a hat! Fred and George lied to me!" Ron hissed indignantly. "They said we'd have to wrestle a troll!"
Ethan mused, "I think wrestling a troll sounds more interesting."
Ron: "…"
Wisely skipping that topic, Ron asked curiously, "Ethan, which house do you think you'll be sorted into?"
Ravenclaw, or maybe Gryffindor?
Merlin's beard—as long as his mate didn't end up in Slytherin!
"Hmm…" Ethan thought for a moment, then said seriously, "Probably Hufflepuff."
"Oh, Hufflepuff, huh—Hufflepuff?!"
Ron's eyes nearly popped out, his face a picture of shock.
Hufflepuff?
Was Ethan planning to gobble up those poor, helpless little badgers?
"Mate, are you sure you've got that right?" Ron said, assuming Ethan didn't understand the houses' traits. He kindly explained, "Hufflepuff's all about kindness, loyalty, and warmth."
Ethan tilted his head, puzzled. "I know. Don't I seem kind?"
"Didn't I help Neville find his toad on the train, make loads of friends, and even get along splendidly with Malfoy?"
An indescribable silence fell.
Ron opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words.
Indeed.
From the results alone, Ethan did seem like a bloody kind and friendly wizard!
In the end, staring at Ethan's innocent smile, Ron could only clap him on the shoulder and say earnestly, "Ethan, whichever house you end up in, try to talk less."
I'm worried you'll get hexed.
Ethan: ?
He genuinely thought he might be sorted into Hufflepuff.
And he loved Hufflepuff.
He adored making friends with loyal, down-to-earth people~
(^▽^)
One by one, the first years were called up.
Each house gained a few students, with Hufflepuff getting the most and Ravenclaw the fewest.
Finally—
"Ethan Vincent!"
The Great Hall fell silent. Ethan strode forward confidently, his steps leisurely, toward the platform.
The great artist was about to grace his loyal Hufflepuff!
"Thank you."
Ethan sat down, flashing a soft, warm smile at Professor McGonagall as she placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
McGonagall paused, her expression softening.
What a polite boy.
She grew even more convinced that Ethan was good at heart, just in need of a bit of guidance.
With that thought, she set the Sorting Hat on his head.
The next moment—
"Azkaban! Azkaban—!!!"
The Sorting Hat let out an unprecedented, piercing scream.
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