Daily Life at Hogwarts - Chapter 19

The new students didn’t wait long before Professor McGonagall returned, having them form a line and then leading them into the Great Hall.

The hall was vast, with four long tables filled with students. Above their heads floated hundreds, if not thousands, of candles, illuminating the entire hall.

The flame of the candles was some kind of magical fire; otherwise, the image of wax dripping down from so many candles above them would be too glorious to imagine.

As various quirky thoughts filled Albert’s mind, he saw the line had already reached a stool, on which sat a rather dirty and tattered hat.

Rumor had it, this was the Sorting Hat of Godric Gryffindor.

“I really wish they would give the Sorting Hat a good wash,” Albert commented to himself, repelled by how dirty the hat looked. Maybe it hadn’t been washed in a thousand years?

Before he realized it, the hat had finished its customary song, met with applause from the audience.

Professor McGonagall began the Sorting process, reading names from a parchment.

Of course, Albert was one of the first to be called, thanks to his surname starting with an ‘A’.

With all eyes on him, Albert walked to the stool and sat down, letting Professor McGonagall place the hat on his head.

“Not Slytherin, not Slytherin,” he muttered to himself, trying to send a clear message.

Even though he knew the chances of ending up in Slytherin were slim, he still muttered a few words under his breath, just to avoid accidentally landing himself in a bind.

“Hmm, a tough one. I see bravery, a kind heart, talent, and intellect,” the Sorting Hat whispered. “Excluding Slytherin, where would you prefer?”

Albert was speechless. Was the hat suggesting he’d fit in any house but Slytherin?

“Oh, it seems you’ve made your choice, then…”

“Gryffindor!” When the Sorting Hat announced Gryffindor, Albert realized what it meant by his ‘choice’.

He had been placed in Gryffindor, partly because of his interactions with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan in the train. The hat had made the final decision for him.

After all, Albert had seven years ahead of him at the school. He didn’t want to end up like Hermione in the beginning, with not a single friend. That would be truly tragic.

Of course, there were also the nighttime escapades. The twins were undoubtedly the best companions for such adventures.

The far-left table erupted in cheers.

However, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan looked utterly gobsmacked. Where was the expected Ravenclaw?

As Professor McGonagall took the hat, Albert walked to where the cheers had come from, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, where spaces had been left for the newbies.

A few people, presumably prefects or student council members with badges on their robes, stood up to shake hands with him.

The Sorting continued. When Cedric Diggory’s name was read out, Albert curiously studied the young man, knowing his tragic fate in another version of this story.

After the Sorting Hat had announced Slytherin for Cedric, Albert’s attention returned to it, observing the last few sortings.

As expected, the Weasley twins were sorted into Gryffindor, followed by a delighted older Weasley waving at them – probably the infamous Percy Weasley.

Soon after, the Sorting Ceremony ended, and McGonagall rolled up her parchment, taking the Sorting Hat with her. The stool also vanished.

“Wow! We thought you’d end up in Ravenclaw!” Both the twins and Lee Jordan were looking at Albert with exaggerated expressions, as if he was some rare creature.

“How strange is that?” Albert shrugged, “Oh, and I just discovered a secret about the Sorting Hat.”

“What secret?” Lee Jordan asked, his curiosity piqued.

“If I tell you, it won’t be a secret anymore.” Albert wasn’t planning to spill the beans. “And that’s the reason why I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Albert looked around, shaking his head, “I gave such an obvious hint, and no one guessed it. Very Gryffindor, isn’t it?”

Following the Sorting Ceremony, it was Dumbledore’s turn to speak, and then, the grand feast.

“Welcome…” Dumbledore said, smiling warmly at the students as he spread his arms wide. “Welcome to Hogwarts as we commence a new term! Before our feast begins, I have a few words to say: ‘Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak!’ Thank you all!”

Indeed, just a few words.

What a stark contrast!

Compared to those who prattled on and on, Dumbledore truly understood the students. He knew they had little patience for long speeches.

“Do you understand the meaning of those words?” Albert asked the prefect sitting next to him.

The prefect looked momentarily stumped, clearly at a loss on how to respond.

At that moment, the prefect thought that perhaps the Weasley twins were right. Maybe Albert belonged in Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor.

“It seems no one knows,” murmured Albert. “Do I need to ask him directly?” These words were an unsolved mystery in the Harry Potter novels.

Others at the table twitched at his comment. Was he seriously considering asking Dumbledore directly?

Even a Ravenclaw wouldn’t be as inquisitive!

He’s definitely an eagle in a lion’s den.

Somebody, please, toss him over to the next table!

Ignoring the peculiar glances, Albert lost himself in thought.

In his previous life, there were several interpretations online for these words:

Rumors stated that the Latin translation of those words meant: “May Merlin bless you.”

Others believed the words represented the four houses’ attitudes:

Ravenclaws thought anyone not in Ravenclaw was a nitwit.
Gryffindors believed others lacked their bravery.
Slytherins deemed muggle-borns and half-bloods as waste.
Hufflepuffs wished the other houses would adjust their behavior.

The truth remained a mystery to Albert, but perhaps he would have a chance to learn it directly from Dumbledore.

BOOM!

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck through the ceiling of the castle. The magical climate seemed to have malfunctioned.

This unexpected event startled everyone.

Dumbledore quickly drew his wand, cast a spell overhead, and the thunder and lightning disappeared, returning the enchanted ceiling to its usual starry night appearance.

“Now, let the feast begin.” With a gentle tap of his spoon against his goblet, Dumbledore signaled the beginning of the banquet. As if by magic, the plates on the table were instantly filled with food.