"But think about it," Tyler continued, spreading his hands as though he were describing a perfectly reasonable school rule. "We're talking about dragons and giants. They're enormous. A dragon could fill half this room by itself, and a giant might have to crouch just to fit under the ceiling."
The first years stared at him, their faces growing paler with every word. Tyler seemed to enjoy the effect far too much, and Jamie stood beside him with the calm expression of someone watching a harmless experiment unfold. The more frightened the others became, the more convincing Tyler's tone sounded.
"Dragons breathe fire," Tyler said, lowering his voice. "If you aren't quick enough, you'll be burned before you can even scream. First your robes catch, then your hair, then your whole body, until all that's left is a pile of ash on the floor."
Several students gasped. One girl clapped both hands over her mouth, and Neville looked as though he might faint for the second time that day. Even Ron, who had grown up hearing stories about dragons from Charlie, turned a worrying shade of white.
"And giants," Tyler went on, lifting one fist and bringing it down slowly for effect, "are worse in a different way. They can be twenty feet tall or more, and if one of them smashes its fist down, you won't have time to dodge unless you're quick. You'll just be flattened into paste."
That finished them. The small chamber erupted into panic, whispers and cries bouncing off the stone walls until it sounded as though the first years were already being chased by monsters. Hogwarts had seemed intimidating before; now it seemed like a castle designed to test children against things that belonged in nightmares.
"This is horrible," one boy cried. "I don't want to go to Hogwarts anymore. I want to go home."
"I don't want to fight a dragon," another student whimpered. "I don't want to be burned."
"I'm leaving," a girl said shakily, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "I don't care what my parents say. I'm not being crushed by a giant."
Harry and Ron looked around anxiously, suddenly unsure what to believe. The wizarding world had already proved itself strange enough that almost anything seemed possible, and nobody had properly explained the Sorting. If Tyler said there was a test, and if older students had all refused to talk about it, then perhaps there really was something frightening waiting beyond those doors.
Hermione's lips moved rapidly as she muttered under her breath. She seemed to be reciting every spell she had learned from her books, probably deciding whether any of them could help against a dragon. Her face was tense, but her eyes still held a faint spark of suspicion, as though logic had not entirely surrendered to fear.
"Tyler, Jamie," Harry said, stepping closer with clear worry in his voice. "You must know some way to deal with dragons and giants, right? You're both really good at magic. Help us."
"Yes, help us," several first years echoed at once.
In moments, the frightened students pressed closer, looking at Tyler and Jamie as though they were the only hope in the room. After seeing the flying swords, many of them were convinced the pair could handle almost anything. If anyone could explain how to survive the Sorting, surely it was them.
"Oh, we may not be able to help much," Jamie said with a regretful shrug. "The Sorting test is something every young witch and wizard must face alone. Still, don't worry too much. It shouldn't be truly deadly."
"That's not comforting," Ron said.
"The professors will control everything from the side," Jamie continued, as if that solved the matter. "At worst, you might embarrass yourself badly in front of the whole school. Then the older students will laugh, and you'll be remembered for years as the person who ran screaming from a chained giant."
That sent the room into a fresh wave of distress. Tyler and Jamie exchanged the briefest glance, and the same thought passed between them without needing to be spoken. Children were far too easy to tease.
For them, this was merely bad taste. Other people's panic had become their amusement, and neither of them felt particularly guilty about it. The Sorting Ceremony would reveal the truth soon enough, and a few minutes of terror would not kill anyone.
The door opened before the panic could grow any worse. Professor McGonagall stepped back into the chamber, and the noise died in uneven pieces as the first years turned toward her with tearful, frightened faces. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the scene.
"Everyone, form a line and follow me," she began, then stopped. Most of the students looked as though they had just received a death sentence, and several were visibly trying not to cry. "What has happened in here?"
Hermione raised her hand at once, too anxious to wait. "Professor McGonagall, during the Sorting Ceremony, are we supposed to fight a dragon or a giant so the teachers can judge our performance and decide which house we belong in?"
For one rare moment, Professor McGonagall looked genuinely startled. "A dragon or a giant?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, glancing sharply toward Tyler and Jamie. "That's what Tyler and Jamie told us."
Professor McGonagall's gaze moved slowly to the two boys at the back of the group. "Mr Blake. Mr Bauer."
Tyler looked perfectly innocent. Jamie did not bother trying as hard, which somehow made it worse.
"Who told you that first-year students would be expected to fight dragons or giants during the Sorting?" Professor McGonagall asked, her voice cool. "You are children who have not even begun your education. Hogwarts does not ask eleven-year-olds to battle creatures that many adult wizards would struggle to face."
Relief swept through the chamber so strongly that several students nearly sagged where they stood. A few looked as though they might cry from happiness now instead of fear. Harry let out a breath he had not realised he was holding, and Ron muttered something that sounded like thanks to Merlin.
"It was them," Hermione said, pointing at Tyler and Jamie with renewed indignation. "They said the professors would restrain the creatures and that we only needed to dodge the attacks."
"Oh," Tyler said lightly, "that was just a joke. I didn't expect everyone to believe it so easily."
The mood changed instantly. Fear turned into anger, and the first years glared at Tyler and Jamie with wounded outrage. They had trusted them, or at least believed they knew something important, only to discover they had been tricked for entertainment.
"You scared us half to death," one girl snapped.
"I nearly cried," another said, then realised she had already been crying and looked even angrier.
Ron gave Tyler an accusing look as well, though it was weakened by the fact that he clearly wished he had thought of the prank first. Harry looked more relieved than offended, while Neville simply clutched Trevor and seemed grateful there would be no dragon.
Professor McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose. For a moment, she looked as though she had seen the future and found it full of headaches. Tyler and Jamie reminded her of Fred and George Weasley, except the twins had at least waited longer before inflicting this level of chaos on the school.
Gryffindor already had enough trouble with the Weasley twins. If these two were Sorted there as well, McGonagall suspected her house might never again know peace. For the first time in years, she found herself quietly hoping certain students might belong somewhere else.
"Enough," she said. "Everyone be quiet."
The first years immediately fell silent. Even those still glaring at Tyler and Jamie looked away when Professor McGonagall's eyes swept over them. Her authority was not loud, but it was absolute.
"Mr Blake, Mr Bauer, do not frighten your classmates with foolish stories again," she said sharply. "The rest of you will now line up properly. We are going in."
The students obeyed at once. No one tried to stand near Tyler or Jamie now, and the two found themselves drifting naturally to the back of the line. Neither looked particularly bothered by the sudden unpopularity.
Professor McGonagall led them out of the chamber, across the entrance hall, and through a pair of great double doors into the Great Hall. The sight beyond made several students forget their anger entirely.
The Great Hall was vast and magnificent. Four long tables stretched across the room, each packed with students in black robes, while thousands of candles floated overhead and filled the hall with warm golden light. The ceiling above reflected the stormy sky outside, dark clouds rolling across it as if there were no roof at all.
Gold plates and goblets gleamed on the tables, untouched and waiting for the feast to begin. At the far end of the hall stood another long table where the professors sat, watching the first years enter. The combined attention of the whole school fell on them at once, and more than one new student straightened nervously under the weight of it.
Professor McGonagall brought them to a halt before the staff table and positioned them so they faced the older students. Behind them sat the professors, and in front of them hundreds of eyes studied every nervous face, every crooked robe, every attempt to look brave. The whispers that ran through the hall sounded like leaves moving in a storm.
Then Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool before the first years. On top of it, she set an old, patched, battered wizard's hat that looked as though it had been rescued from the bottom of a trunk and never properly cleaned.
For a moment, the hat sat still. Then it twitched.
A wide rip opened near the brim like a mouth, and the Sorting Hat began to sing. Its voice was rough, strange, and not especially pleasant, but the whole hall listened with the patient resignation of people who heard the song every year and knew it had to be endured.
Tyler and Jamie did not pay much attention to the lyrics. To them, the tune was ugly enough to make listening feel like a punishment. What interested them was the hat itself.
"That should be a top-tier alchemical artefact," Jamie murmured.
"It originally belonged to Godric Gryffindor," Tyler said softly. "Later, the four founders placed their wisdom into it, so in a way, it carries the will of all four houses."
"The Sorting Hat can probably read surface thoughts, or sense a person's state of mind," Jamie said. "Still, that might only be the surface layer; a wizard's strong will can influence the Hat's decision."
.....
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