"Yeah, that's it. I just got blocked again," the Sorting Hat muttered.
"But it's fine, little Rock—sometimes taking it easy is a good thing."
Rock blinked. "Taking it easy?"
"Oh, absolutely. Just like Harry Potter earlier," the Hat whispered mischievously, squirming a little.
Yeah, right… Rock didn't buy that for a second. Sure, maybe Harry did have some choice in becoming a Gryffindor, but come on—without Dumbledore's influence, his name might as well be spelled backward. A kid carrying a piece of Voldemort inside him? And he's not suited for Slytherin?
Sure, totally believable.
"Ravenclaw," Rock said without hesitation.
Gryffindor? No thanks—too much drama.
Hufflepuff? A family tradition and close to the kitchen, sure…
But if he wanted to level up efficiently, Ravenclaw was the place. Grinding skills in Hufflepuff just felt wrong.
"Oho? Ravenclaw? A fine choice," the Hat replied, sounding pleasantly surprised. Then it shouted:
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Ravenclaws erupted in cheers. A kid who had given the Sorting Hat more trouble than the so-called Savior—sorted into their house.
Dumbledore paused mid-thought, then smiled softly and clapped.
Rock handed the hat to Professor McGonagall and walked straight to the Ravenclaw table. Students around him were still clapping as he found an empty spot to sit.
"Hi—welcome to Ravenclaw," someone greeted him.
A slightly older Ravenclaw student extended her hand.
"Hi, thanks," Rock replied, shaking briefly.
"I'm Penelope Clearwater."
"Rock Theseus Scamander."
Naturally, joining Ravenclaw meant getting to know some academic high-achievers—maybe even picking up a few new perspectives on how to optimize his skill grinding. Hermione's notes were great, but getting more from Ravenclaws wouldn't hurt.
"Scamander? As in the famous author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" Penelope asked.
"That's my grandfather," Rock said with a warm smile. He could just picture the old man sitting at home, bored out of his mind.
Penelope nodded thoughtfully before turning to whisper excitedly with her friends.
A Sorting Hat problem child AND Newt Scamander's grandson?
Ravenclaw had gained someone unusual this year.
By the time their whispers died down, the Sorting Ceremony was wrapping up. Professor McGonagall removed the stool and hat, and Dumbledore stepped forward.
"With the start of a new year, we welcome our new students…"
Rock expected a long speech—but Dumbledore immediately declared the feast open.
In an instant, the table filled with food.
Right in front of Rock was a mountain-sized platter of roast beef.
"Oh wow, freshman luck. Would you mind handing some over?" Penelope joked.
Rock gladly passed the plate and served her a few slices.
He took a bite of his own portion—surprisingly good.
"Don't worry," Penelope said as she neatly cut her food. "Hogwarts' house-elves are top-notch."
Rock nodded. The seasoning alone made the dish more than respectable. With that reassurance, he started eating with enthusiasm.
Penelope made small talk between bites while Rock listened and observed the hall. He happened to catch Snape and Harry sharing their first icy stare.
Then a senior student suddenly said loudly, "Hey, did you hear? Gringotts was supposedly attacked before school started."
The table went quiet for a second, then exploded with chatter.
"No way! Who'd dare?"
"Honestly? Sounds more like goblins stealing from themselves."
…Huh?
Rock blinked and turned toward Penelope—she was the one who'd said it.
Sharp girl.
But this time, it was probably Quirrell.
Which meant Dumbledore, after retrieving the real Philosopher's Stone, must've placed a fake one back into the vault.
Otherwise Gringotts wouldn't have been broken into.
If that was true… well, Dumbledore was being responsible, at least. Not throwing him under the bus.
Still, thinking of the Stone made Rock uneasy.
Ever since that day, he hadn't been able to analyze it again.
No matter when he tried, the system only showed:
[Please restore full mental energy before analyzing.]
But he felt perfectly fine.
He even spent an entire day over the break doing nothing but sleep.
Still no luck.
Toward the end of the feast, Dumbledore stood again, smiling warmly, and announced the new staff—including this year's new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"Oh no… another one," Penelope groaned, palm to forehead.
"What's wrong?" Rock asked.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts changes professors every single year," Penelope explained.
"There's a rumor the position is cursed."
Rock hummed thoughtfully.
Penelope went on, "And it's annoying, because just when we get used to someone's teaching style, the next year we have to start over with someone new."
"And the worst part? The new professor never knows where we left off. They just teach strictly by the textbook."
She shrugged helplessly.
Yeah…
Rock could only agree—Hogwarts' DADA program was a disaster.
No wonder Theseus had been complaining. Every year, Auror trainees were getting weaker.
The root of the problem was right here.
And honestly?
Rock had to hand it to Dumbledore—keeping up this rotation for so many years was almost… impressive.