Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, please come forward, sit on the stool, put on the hat, and await your sorting," her voice was clear and strong. "Hannah Abbott!"
A rosy-faced little girl with two golden pigtails stumbled out of the line, sat on the stool, and awkwardly placed the Sorting Hat on her head, its wide brim instantly obscuring her eyes.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville stared intently as the tattered Sorting Hat slowly covered Hannah's head.
After a moment of silence—
"Hufflepuff!" the Sorting Hat shrieked in its characteristic, unpleasant voice.
The Hufflepuff table on the right immediately erupted in cheers and applause, welcoming her into their ranks.
The Fat Friar also waved happily at her.
The four noticed that when Hannah took off the hat, a faint black circular mark seemed to be left on her head, making her dazzling golden hair appear a few shades darker.
"Nios Chaos!"
Hearing Professor McGonagall call Nios's name, the four of them looked at him in unison, a hint of pity and despair unconsciously showing in their eyes—they knew they would soon face the same "torture."
Nios, however, appeared unusually calm.
He walked straight out of the line, fumbling for something inside his robe as he went.
He suddenly extended his hand, flicking it neatly in the air, and a shower cap and a pair of disposable gloves appeared out of nowhere in his hand.
Sharp-eyed observers would notice that the hem of his robe seemed to be a little shorter, and these "items" were clearly made by him on the spot.
Under the astonished gaze of the crowd, Nios put on his gloves, then pulled the shower cap over his head.
Only then did he carefully put on the Sorting Hat.
The moment the Sorting Hat touched his head, it shrieked without almost any hesitation:
"Gryffindor!"
Nios said nothing, quickly stepped down, and walked directly to the Gryffindor table.
On the way, he casually took off the shower cap and gloves, stuffing them back into his inner pocket as if nothing had happened.
The entire Great Hall fell into an eerie silence.
Whether it was the Professors at the teachers' table or the young Wizards at the four long tables, the moment Nios pulled out the shower cap, they seemed to be struck by an invisible Petrificus Totalus, all frozen in place.
The tip of the Sorting Hat also drooped despondently, as if deeply hurt by such obvious disdain.
It wasn't until Nios was safely seated at the Gryffindor table that the Great Hall, like a thawing river, suddenly erupted in whispers among the young Wizards.
The young Wizards murmured to each other, a buzzing sound filling the air, and even the Professors at the teachers' table couldn't help but exchange confused and astonished glances.
"Silence!"
Dumbledore's voice boomed, silencing all the noise, and the Great Hall instantly fell quiet.
He looked at Professor McGonagall and said gently, "Please continue, Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall composed herself, picked up the parchment again, "Susan Bones!"
"Hufflepuff!"
This time, the Sorting Hat seemed to have found its footing, and its voice was much louder.
Cheers and applause once again rang out from the Hufflepuff table.
On the stage, the four of them looked at Nios with resentment—that guy, he actually had such a method!
Nios noticed their gaze, tilted his head, and the comical eyes on his eye patch instantly turned cross-eyed, his mouth slightly open, and a glistening trail of saliva "just right" flowed down the corner of his mouth.
"Hermione Granger!"
Hermione took a deep breath, slowly walked to the stool, hesitated repeatedly, and finally, with a look of resignation, slammed the hat onto her head.
"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat's shout rang out again.
Hermione snatched off the hat as if she had been burned, her arms pressed tightly against her sides, her small hands rigidly held in front of her chest, her face crumpled, filled with pain and discomfort.
Although the young lions below the stage were a little puzzled by her reaction, they still gave her the most enthusiastic applause and cheers.
Hermione walked off the stage with awkward steps, stiffly sitting beside Nios, looking like a startled little dinosaur.
"Next time… if you have any more amazing discoveries," she gritted her teeth, her voice squeezed through them, "I hope you can tell me in advance…"
Looking at the little Witch beside him who was still acting like a "Tyrannosaurus Rex," Nios's face for the first time showed a genuine smile.
"Here," he took out a little pink and placed it on Hermione's right hand.
As soon as the little pink touched her skin, it immediately spread like a living thing, gently enveloping her entire right hand.
"What is this?!" Hermione gasped in a low voice.
"Don't be afraid, this is little pink. Use it to clean your hand. Once you're done, just put it directly on a wooden table," Nios patiently explained. "Remember, it must be a wooden table, otherwise it won't come off."
After hearing Nios's explanation, Hermione tentatively brought her left hand close to the little pink.
The little pink quickly enveloped it, and Hermione immediately rubbed vigorously inside the flexible little pink.
In a moment, looking at her hands, which had become clean again, she subconsciously touched her hair again, and her gaze once again turned to Nios.
"I don't recommend you do that, unless you want to experience being bald, then never mind," Nios reminded coolly.
Hermione imagined herself with a bald head and couldn't help but shiver, quickly slapping the little pink onto the wooden table in front of her.
At this moment, Neville also sat down beside them, with a pained expression, mimicking the posture of a "Tyrannosaurus Rex."
Nios also handed him a little pink.
Neville thanked him and cleaned the dirt from his hands.
There were fewer and fewer young Wizards on the stage, and it was finally Harry's turn.
Professor McGonagall's voice rang out again:
"Harry Potter!"
The whispers in the Great Hall instantly rose an octave.
"Potter? Did Professor McGonagall just say Potter?"
"Is it that Harry Potter?!"
Under the focus of countless gazes and discussions, Harry walked to the stool and slowly put on the Sorting Hat.
A faint voice entered his ear: "Difficult… Very difficult. I see you have great courage. And not a bad heart. There's talent… Oh, and a strong desire to prove yourself… Very interesting… So, where should I put you?"
Harry urgently shouted in his mind: "Not Slytherin! Not Slytherin!"
"Not Slytherin? Hmm?" the Sorting Hat's voice carried a hint of playfulness. "Are you sure? You know, in Slytherin, you could achieve greatness…"
"Not Slytherin!" Harry's inner voice was resolute.
"Alright, alright," the Sorting Hat seemed a little helpless. "Since your mind is made up… then… 'Gryffindor'!"
When the Sorting Hat loudly shouted "Gryffindor," the Great Hall instantly erupted in the loudest cheers and applause so far.
Harry had originally intended to imitate his two little companions and be the third "Tyrannosaurus Rex" of the night, but Percy excitedly rushed forward and grasped his hand.
Fred and George even jumped directly onto the bench, waving their arms and shouting, "We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"
Harry, dizzy with this enthusiastic embrace, was pushed to the Gryffindor table and sat next to Nios and the others.
As soon as he sat down, Nios slipped a little pink into his hand.
Harry rubbed his hands, unable to resist looking at the teachers' table.
Hagrid sat in the closest seat to Gryffindor, and seeing Harry look over, he immediately grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
Harry returned a shy smile.
His gaze then shifted to Dumbledore in the center of the head table. Harry recognized him at once; on the train, because Azazel wasn't interested in the chocolate frog cards, those cards had all gone to him, and one of them was this great Principal.
Dumbledore keenly caught Harry's eye, playfully winked at him, and then elegantly raised his cup in salute.
Dumbledore's gaze swept past Harry and lingered for a moment on Nios, who was poking the little pink with a fake wand, and he let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
Allowing Nios to enter Gryffindor was a decision he had made after much deliberation.
Why not other houses?
Hufflepuff? He worried Nios would completely lead those gentle little badgers astray.
Ravenclaw? He feared his erratic mind would spark uncontrollable, dangerous "knowledge sparks" with the little eagles.
As for Slytherin… Dumbledore would never let Nios have the chance to follow Lord Voldemort's old path.
Gryffindor, full of adventurous spirit, and with enough enthusiasm and… well, resilience?
The last "Tyrannosaurus Rex" of the night—Ron—finally completed his "suffering" ritual,
He almost collapsed onto the seat beside Harry.
Percy reached over Harry and clapped Ron hard on the shoulder: "That's great! Ron!"
When the last student had been sorted, Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment, picked up the weathered, seemingly somewhat aggrieved Sorting Hat, and turned to leave the Great Hall.
Dumbledore stood up again, smiling broadly as he surveyed the vibrant faces below, and spread his arms:
"Welcome! Welcome everyone to Hogwarts for a new school year! Before the feast begins, I'd like to say a few words. And those are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you all!" With that, he sat down without hesitation.
Harry blinked, then hesitantly whispered to Percy beside him, "Is he… a bit… mad?"
"Mad?!" Percy lowered his voice, filled with a protective tone for the great Wizard. "He's a genius! The best Wizard in the world! However…" Percy paused, his tone subtly shifting, "What you said… isn't wrong, he is a bit… eccentric. Would you like some potatoes, Harry?"
The moment Dumbledore sat down, the four long tables were instantly laden with dazzling delicacies: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, steaks, boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, French fries, potato chips, Yorkshire pudding… everything imaginable.
Harry looked at the lavish food, which had never appeared on the Dursley family's dinner table, and his stomach immediately rumbled.
The snacks from lunchtime had long been consumed.
He put a little of everything onto his plate.
Ron, beside him, was going at it with both hands, gripping a chicken leg in each, fully engaged in a "bloody battle."
Neville and Hermione ate much more politely, only choosing the food they liked.
Nios looked at the dazzling array of dishes before him, all quite "Britain" in style, and the corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly. He eventually casually picked a few items and began to eat.
At this moment, the ghost dressed like a nobleman floated over, looking at the young Wizards feasting, a deep sense of loss on his face.
"Aren't you having some?" Harry kindly asked.
The ghost sighed heavily: "I haven't tasted food in five hundred years."
Then, he feigned nonchalance and puffed out his chest, "Of course, I don't need to eat! It's just… occasionally I miss that wonderful taste…"
In just two sentences, his emotions shifted three times between nostalgia and pride. Nios understood this state very well, as he was, after all, a ghost by origin.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the ghost bowed elegantly, "I am Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Sir, the resident ghost of Hogwarts."
Ron, beside him, released the chicken leg he was biting, suddenly enlightened: "Oh! I know who you are! George and Fred mentioned you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!"
Nick seemed a little flustered and embarrassed: "Well… I'd prefer you call me Sir Porpington…"
Hermione's curiosity was piqued: "'Nearly Headless'? How can you be 'nearly' headless?"
Nick seemed annoyed by the question and said impatiently, "Here, like this!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he performed a terrifying "show-stopper" by forcibly bending his head, letting it hang crookedly on his neck, with only a tiny bit of flesh still connected!
Hermione turned her head away in disgust.
Ron felt the chicken in his mouth was no longer appealing; he couldn't swallow it, nor could he spit it out.
Neville had wisely lowered his head, focusing on the food on his plate.
Harry also felt a strong wave of nausea… but he still forced an awkward smile at Nick.
After his performance, Nick, feeling unamused, floated off to find other young Wizards who might appreciate his "talent."
When everyone was finally full, the leftovers on the plates instantly vanished, replaced by mountains of various tempting desserts.
A new round of "sweet battle" began again.
Nios, meanwhile, poured himself a cup of black tea and took out the demon book to read.
When dessert time ended, the plates once again became spotless.
Nios also put away his book in due course.
During dinner, he had keenly caught several scrutinizing and ill-intentioned glances from different directions.
However, he was completely fearless now. In the month before school started, he had already "stocked up" enough "spare materials" to create five adult bodies in the basement of Branded Manor.
Rather than saying he wasn't afraid, it was more accurate to say he even faintly hoped his opponents would make a move sooner.
Dumbledore stood up once more. The Great Hall quickly quieted with his movement.
"Now that everyone has eaten and drunk their fill, please allow me to remind you of a few important points."
"First-year students, please note: The forested area on the school grounds—the Forbidden Forest—is forbidden to all students. Some of our older students," his gaze swept over the Weasley twins, "are also kindly asked to remember this."
"Secondly, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you: no magic in the corridors between classes."
"Quidditch tryouts will take place in the second week of this term. Any student wishing to join their house team should contact Madam Hooch."
"Finally," Dumbledore's tone became exceptionally serious, "I must solemnly warn everyone that anyone who does not wish to suffer an unexpected and painful death should absolutely not enter the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor."
"Now!" A cheerful smile returned to his face, and with a gentle wave of his wand, lyrics formed from golden ribbons floated in the air.
"Before everyone goes to bed, let's sing the school song together! Everyone choose their favorite tune—ready, sing!"