The Great Hall was vast, and every pair of eyes was fixed on him.
Sean could see witches and wizards at the different house tables craning their necks to get a better look. Up at the staff table, gleaming gold plates and goblets framed Professor Dumbledore's mildly curious gaze.
Trying to act like he hadn't a clue what was going on, Sean followed Professor McGonagall's gentle instructions and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
"I will teach many and treat them all fairly," Sean silently recited Helga Hufflepuff's words, hoping the Hat would catch the hint about his preferred house.
"A commendable young wizard," a faint voice murmured in his ear.
"Few bother to remember the songs old Hat sings. You want Hufflepuff? Well, of course… no, that won't do."
Sean: "…"
Might as well not respond.
"Why not?" he asked quietly in his mind.
"Let old Hat sing again—Fair Ravenclaw, from the tranquil riverbank…"
The Sorting Hat suddenly burst into song, wriggling atop Sean's head.
"Mr. Sorting Hat?" Sean asked, bewildered, clutching his head.
"Those wise and learned souls shall find their home in Ravenclaw's fold…"
The Hat kept singing and squirming.
"I want Hufflepuff," Sean said, starting to sense where this was going.
"Ravenclaw declares: We teach those whose minds rise above the rest…"
The Hat wouldn't stop.
"I want Hufflepuff!"
Sean made one last desperate stand.
"Stubborn little wizard, why must it be Hufflepuff?" the Hat asked.
"Mr. Sorting Hat, why must I go to Ravenclaw?" Sean countered.
"Hmm. Practicing charms for thirteen hours a day until you can barely move; barely knowing English yet memorizing every book you bought in two months… Aside from Rowena herself, old Hat hasn't seen such a thirst for knowledge in ages. Slytherin could nurture your ambition, Gryffindor would admire your courage, and Hufflepuff would welcome your kind heart."
The Hat's voice carried a tone of reverence.
"But only Ravenclaw can give a wizard of wisdom the power to seek truth!"
"I want Hufflepuff," Sean said, his confidence waning.
"Fine."
To his surprise, the Hat agreed, and Sean's emerald-green eyes lit up.
"Just kidding!"
The Hat's voice boomed.
"RAVENCLAW!"
Disappointed, Sean gave the Hat a quick pinch.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow!"
Hearing the Hat's complaints made him feel a bit better.
But he didn't catch the rest.
"…Ha, I tricked Ravenclaw! Just like you, Rowena, always pinching old Hat without a care… Twelve centuries, and at last, I've fulfilled my promise to Gryffindor, finding Ravenclaw's heir. Watch this one—beneath that scrawny frame lies great power. Old Hat's never wrong."
Ravenclaw's fine, Sean told himself. At least it's not Slytherin.
Before he could hand the Hat back to Professor McGonagall, a wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the Ravenclaw table. Even Gryffindor and Hufflepuff joined in, and Sean spotted Justin, standing and clapping the loudest, rallying a group of Hufflepuffs to cheer.
Seeing that, Sean felt even worse.
What a great bunch, those Hufflepuffs!
What a rotten Sorting Hat!
In the center of the hall, Professor McGonagall looked at Sean kindly. His old, pilled robe had been replaced with a crisp Hogwarts uniform, and his ill-fitting shoes were now sleek English-style boots.
A spark of anticipation flickered in his cautious green eyes as she removed the Hat.
"Ready, Mr. Green?" she said softly. "Time to embrace your new life."
Sean hesitated for a moment before McGonagall gently nudged him toward the Ravenclaw table.
"Welcome!"
A slightly chubby young wizard waved at him from the table. "I can't believe you're a Hatstall!"
Curiosity shone behind the boy's large bronze-framed glasses. He reached out to shake Sean's hand but fumbled as his glasses slid down his nose, forcing him to fix them instead. Flustered, he apologized profusely.
"Hatstall?" Sean asked, his big eyes full of confusion.
"Oh, Merlin! You don't know?"
The chubby wizard's jaw dropped.
"Terry, not everyone's obsessed with researching that tattered old hat," came a voice from behind him.
A wizard with long black hair interrupted with an exasperated tone. "Don't mind him. Terry's always digging into weird stuff. When I sat down, he was asking me how many windows Hogwarts has. Merlin's beard, who cares? Unless they all fall and crush Terry Boot while he's counting."
"Windows are important!" Terry's face flushed, clearly flustered.
"Sure, sure," the black-haired wizard said, placating him before turning to Sean with interest.
"Hatstall. It means a sorting dilemma—someone whose sorting takes longer than five minutes. Super rare, happens maybe once every fifty years. By the way, I'm Michael Corner. Welcome to Ravenclaw."
He extended his hand.
Sean was even more confused. Over five minutes? He could've sworn it was only a moment. It was like something had stolen time itself.
"Sean Green," he said, shaking Michael's hand lightly.
As the last first-year was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore stood, beaming at the students and spreading his arms wide, as if nothing made him happier than seeing them all gathered.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for a new school year! Before the feast begins, I have a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
As he spoke, Terry scribbled notes frantically, while Michael wore an "I knew it" expression.
Sean barely noticed, as the table before him magically filled with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, pea shoots, carrots, gravy, ketchup, apple pie, treacle tart, chocolate gateau, jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding…
Sean mentally checked off the menu—it matched his memory perfectly.
Here we go, he thought, diving in with gusto.
"How does he eat so fast and so elegantly?" Michael asked, gaping, to the boy beside him.