Chapter 16: Disbelief
"He… he… he… how did he actually get into Slytherin!"
After hearing the Sorting Hat shout "Slytherin," Draco, still standing in the crowd, felt his legs go weak. The thought of having to share a common room with that boy for the next seven years made goosebumps erupt all over his body.
And someone who shared a similar thought was… Severus Snape, who was sitting at the high table, glaring at Ezio's back with a gaze so gloomy it could drip water.
"So you've finally come to Slytherin!"
Snape practically chewed on those words through gritted teeth. He wasn't the least bit surprised that Ezio had been sorted into Slytherin.
Professor Flitwick, sitting beside him, had a tuft of hair on his head stand straight up as he turned in confusion. "Severus, what are you muttering about?"
"I'm fine," Snape replied in a very low voice, his lips barely moving.
Suddenly, his pupils contracted. Ezio, who was about to reach the Slytherin table, abruptly turned his head, as if he had known all along that Snape was watching him. All at once, Snape felt as if a venomous snake had just slithered across his foot. A strange feeling washed over him, as if this boy held some kind of leverage over him, yet no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't figure out what leverage this boy could possibly have.
"You'll get what's coming to you, boy!"
Snape averted his gaze. At the same time, Ezio, welcomed by the older Slytherin students, sat down at the edge of the crowd, dodging an invitation from an enthusiastic older girl. It wasn't that Ezio was celibate, but rather that she wasn't attractive.
One by one, the names were called, and the Sorting Ceremony proceeded smoothly. Soon, Draco Malfoy's name was announced. The moment the hat touched his head, it immediately shouted "Slytherin." However, the Draco who took off the hat now seemed rather listless. If it weren't for Ezio, he would have been overjoyed.
With his head slightly bowed, Draco moved to the Slytherin table in a completely low-key manner and chose a seat as far away from Ezio as possible. A girl with a lion's mane of hair tried to get him to sit with her, but Draco heartlessly refused because it was a little too close to Ezio.
There weren't many young wizards left to be sorted. When Professor McGonagall loudly called out, "Potter, Harry," a buzzing whisper suddenly filled the Great Hall. Even at the Slytherin long table, many people were whispering to each other, "Potter? The Potter? Merlin's beard! It really is him!"
Harry, now the focus of everyone's attention, grew nervous again. He sat down on the stool apprehensively. He only relaxed slightly when the brim of the hat covered his eyes, plunging his vision into darkness.
"Difficult. A little difficult," the old hat's voice grumbled in Harry's mind. "But you're much easier to judge than the last one. I can see you have plenty of courage, a good heart, and talent… and… oh! You also have a strong desire to achieve a certain goal. You may be in a hurry, but I hope you won't be too hasty. Impatience will only lead you to make more mistakes."
"Now then… where should I put you?"
"Slytherin?" the old hat mumbled. "Slytherin can help you on your way to greatness. However, Gryffindor also…"
"Slytherin it is," Harry said decisively.
"It seems you've already made up your mind," the Sorting Hat said gently. "But why is that?"
"You said Slytherin could help me on my way to greatness, and there is indeed something I want to accomplish very much."
"In that case—SLYTHERIN!"
The Sorting Hat shouted out the house Harry would be going to. In that instant, Dumbledore's expression stiffened slightly. His eyes widened a little, and a flash of suspicion crossed his features.
But compared to Dumbledore, Snape, who was sitting behind him, could barely control the expression on his face. His face was twitching as he tried with all his might to suppress a laugh. If they weren't in the Great Hall, he would have burst out laughing right now! Hahahaha!
Professor Flitwick, sitting beside him, thought Snape was having a fit. He quickly and quietly asked, "Severus, are you alright?"
"I…" Snape pinched his thigh hard. He replayed the second most painful event of his life in his mind several times, then calmed himself and said slowly, "I'm fine. It's just that my wound has split open."
He clutched his arm, but his sleeve was dry, with no blood seeping through.
"I didn't know you were injured. Is it serious? Would you like me to have Poppy take a look at you?"
(Poppy is Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse at Hogwarts. Her full name is Poppy Pomfrey.)
"A small accident. I probably didn't handle it well before."
Snape returned to his previous state of calm. He spoke simply, declining Professor Flitwick's suggestion. However, his gaze never moved, following Harry's figure the entire time. But when he saw Harry laughing and sitting down next to Ezio, he truly felt his wound split open once more.
'Dumbledore! Look at what you've done!'
With Snape staring daggers into his back, Dumbledore couldn't help but shift in his seat. He felt a slight prickling on his back, as if someone was stabbing a voodoo doll of him with a needle.
After a moment, an atmosphere of 'disbelief' spread through the Great Hall. Except for the cheering Slytherins, the students of the other three houses were all dumbfounded by what they had just witnessed.
How did our Savior of the English wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who defeated the Dark Lord, get sorted into the notorious cesspit of dark wizards—Slytherin?
By Merlin's pink, lacy, frilled thong!
Everything that just happened had to be a hallucination! A hallucination!
They could wrack their brains all they wanted, but they couldn't figure out how Harry Potter could possibly be associated with Slytherin. This wasn't magical!
'Maybe… only something darker than the dark can destroy the dark?'
A rumor, started by who-knows-who, began to spread like wildfire. School students, for the most part, were a bunch of credulous, loose-lipped individuals. Their excessive energy always led them to come up with strange ideas, and the frightening part was, they were prone to believing their own fabricated theories.
After the last boy, Blaise Zabini, was sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and left. Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the previously noisy hall immediately fell silent.
"Welcome," Dumbledore's calm voice reached everyone's ears. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
"Thank you!"
Amid the applause of the baffled young wizards, Dumbledore finished his speech. The empty plates on the long tables suddenly filled with all sorts of food. The crisp clatter of cutlery and the sound of conversation intertwined, and the hall once again became lively and bustling.
At the Slytherin table, people's gazes would, more or less, flick toward Harry. But he paid them no mind at the moment, instead talking happily with Ezio.
"The Sorting Hat said Slytherin could help me on my way to greatness, Ezio. Do you think that's true?"
"Where you go doesn't really matter." Ezio elegantly cut a thick slice of steak. Compared to the young wizards from 'noble' wizarding families around him, he seemed to possess a more aristocratic air. "Going to Ravenclaw won't necessarily make you smarter, and coming to Slytherin won't necessarily make you stronger."
"The houses just provide us with a platform. What we ultimately become depends only on our own efforts."
"However, compared to the other houses, Slytherin does have one small advantage."
Ezio swallowed the last piece of beef on his plate and turned to Harry. "In Slytherin, the strong are revered. Here, you can display your talents without any reservations, and climb over everyone to the top."
"It's just that…" Ezio's gaze swept around the table. He met the eyes of others who were looking at him or Harry, and said clearly, "The current Slytherin is filled with far too much trash and garbage. The stench is nauseating."
"If Salazar Slytherin knew the current state of his house, he would probably be so angry he'd round up all these people and use them as experimental materials."
His bone-chilling words made many lower their heads in silence. Ezio's sharp gaze carried an invisible sense of intimidation. However, not everyone looked away.
Just as Ezio had said, Slytherin, filled with so-called pure-bloods, was indeed getting weaker year after year.
******
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