"Ivan Efferi!"
"Ivan Efferi!"
The Great Hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and no one responded.
Ivan was puzzled when suddenly someone poked him in the back. He turned around and saw a blonde girl gesturing to him with pouted lips: "Mr. Efferi, Professor McGonagall is calling you! It's your turn!"
Ivan turned his head again and realized he was standing in a European-style Great Hall, surrounded by students wearing cloaks. In the center of the Great Hall was an old wooden chair, and on the chair sat a ragged hat.
"This can't be some kind of cult ritual, can it?" Ivan muttered to himself.
"Ivan Efferi, please step forward!" Professor McGonagall's voice was still calm, but the moment she finished speaking, everyone's eyes shot toward him.
Suddenly, someone pushed Ivan from behind. He stumbled forward, approaching the ragged hat.
As he walked, Ivan mumbled softly, "I am Ivan, but I'm not Ivan Efferi..."
"Alright, child, come here." Professor McGonagall stepped forward, placed a hand on Ivan's shoulder, and led him to the chair. Then, she placed the Sorting Hat on his head.
The Hat wiggled restlessly on Ivan's head, then spoke in a comical and mischievous tone.
"Hey, kid, don't be so shy. Trust me, you're not the first person to be nervous in a place like this. Just close your eyes and it will be over soon—it won't hurt a bit!"
Ivan rolled his eyes.
"I bet you're Muggle-born, right? Every few years, we get a Little Wizard who doesn't believe magic is real. They think it's all tricks and want me to pull a long-eared rabbit out of my body. I tell them there's nothing in my hat, but they just won't believe it."
The Sorting Hat chattered on with silly jokes, its mouth stretching almost to its brim.
"Alright, young man, let's see which House you belong in now."
"What is this? No!" Before the Sorting Hat could even utter a sound, a dark red flame erupted from the top of it.
The dark red flame instantly engulfed the Sorting Hat, crackling loudly, and a smell of burning filled the air. The flame, like a greedy viper, coiled around the Hat's edges, licking at every inch of its fabric. The students in the Hall cried out in alarm, and a few timid ones even stood up from their seats, their eyes filled with terror and confusion.
Professor Dumbledore, with lightning speed, cast a large Protection Charm, confining the flames to a specific area to prevent them from spreading to the other students. His wand traced a silver-white arc in the air, instantly forming a transparent barrier that sealed the fire within.
The flames quickly burned the Sorting Hat to ashes, yet they didn't even singe Ivan's hair.
"A mere Artifact Spirit dares to invade the consciousness of the sole successor of my Kongshan Daoist Temple? You must have a death wish." A voice resonated in Ivan's mind.
"Ancestor Master, you came too. I thought I was the only one who transmigrated." Ivan's voice carried a mix of surprise and emotion, as if he were conversing with some unseen entity. His finger unconsciously traced the Ring on his left Ring finger; the Ring's surface shimmered faintly, seeming to resonate with his emotions.
The instant his voice fell, the Ring flashed with a blinding light. Following that, a tiny current of electricity shot out from the Ring, heading straight for the top of Ivan's head. The current was so fast that Ivan didn't even have time to react; his hair was instantly electrified and stood straight up, like weeds ruffled by the wind.
"Hiss—" Ivan sucked in a cold breath, raised his hand to touch his hair, and gave a helpless, wry smile.
"I forgot that Ancestor Master doesn't like being touched."
The students in the Hall were completely stunned by this scene. Many had wide eyes and gaping mouths, as if witnessing something unbelievable. Even Professor McGonagall was frozen; her brow furrowed deeply, and her gaze shifted back and forth between Ivan and the pile of Sorting Hat ashes, seemingly trying to comprehend what was happening.
Professor Dumbledore slowly walked forward, his silver-white beard flickering slightly in the candlelight. His gaze was deep and solemn, yet held a hint of curiosity. He approached the Sorting Hat's ashes, crouched down, and carefully examined the remaining black fragments. A moment later, he stood up, gave his wand a gentle flick, and murmured, "Reparo."
A soft silver light shot out from the tip of the wand, enveloping the pile of ashes. The ashes slowly coalesced in the light, reforming the wrinkled Sorting Hat. The moment the Hat returned to its original state, it let out a shriek of terror, sharp and piercing: "No! I won't go on his head again!" Its brim shook violently, as if trying to flee the scene.
Dumbledore frowned slightly, turning his gaze toward Ivan, his eyes revealing a hint of profound meaning. He reached out, intending to place the Sorting Hat back on Ivan's head, but the Hat struggled desperately, its voice tearful: "Dumbledore, please! I can't remember what just happened, but my instincts tell me I'll be in great danger if I get near him again!" Its brim even began to curl up, like an animal shrinking in fear.
Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, then sighed softly: "It seems we need to temporarily suspend the Sorting Ceremony." He turned and nodded slightly to Professor McGonagall: "Minerva, please continue presiding over the other matters. I will return shortly!" With that, he turned and left the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat, his steps steady but slightly hurried.
"Ivan Efferi, please return to the line for now." Professor McGonagall's voice broke the silence. Although her tone was calm, her eyes still held a hint of wariness. Ivan nodded and turned to walk back to the line of first-years.