Harry Returning from Hogwarts Legacy

Persuaded by Hermione, Ron no longer looked at Draco and chose to ignore his provocation.

He turned his head and began talking to everyone about the Sorting Hat.

After worrying about being expelled, Ron began to worry about the house sorting.

Being influenced by him, all the young wizards from pure-blood families started to worry, even the always arrogant Draco turned pale.

"My dad... my dad said he had to fight a werewolf when he enrolled..."

After listening to Draco’s words, the faces of the people around turned purple.

The crowd buzzed and chatted for a while, then suddenly the hall became quiet.

Driven by this quiet atmosphere, everyone fell silent.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, gently placing a four-legged stool in front of the first-year students.

She then placed a pointed wizard hat on the stool, which was patched and well-worn, dirty to the extreme.

Harry recognized it, it was the very thing used for sorting when he came to Hogwarts.

Next, the hat twisted, the brim split open into a broad seam, like a mouth—

It began to sing.

"You might think I’m not pretty,

But don’t judge on what you see,

If you can find a hat that’s prettier than me,

I can willingly eat myself.

You can make your bowler hats shiny and black,

Your high top hats sleek and flat,

But I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

And I outshine any hat you’ve ever seen.

Whatever thoughts are hidden in your heads,

Cannot escape the magic hat’s sharp eyes,

Put it on and take the test,

I’ll tell you where you ought to be placed.

Perhaps you belong in Gryffindor,

Where buried deep, the brave at heart stand,

Their nerve, daring, and chivalry,

Set Gryffindors apart;

Perhaps you belong in Hufflepuff,

Where just and loyal hearts rule,

Hufflepuffs of fair play and honesty,

Never shy from toil and struggle;

If you’ve a ready mind,

You might belong in wise old Ravenclaw,

Where those of wit and learning,

Always find their kindred spirits there;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,

You’ll make real friends with the cunning kind,

But those shrewd and sneaky types will stop at nothing,

To achieve their ends.

Come put me on! Do not be afraid!

There’s nothing to fear or dread!

In my hands (though I have none) you are absolutely safe,

For I am a thinking Magic Hat!"

After the Magic Hat finished its song, thunderous applause erupted from the crowd, and the Hat bowed to each of the four tables, then remained still.

"So, we just have to wear this hat?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "I should kill Fred and George, they lied to me saying I’d have to fight a giant! The problem is I actually believed it!"

"And what about your dad? Didn’t he also lie to you about having to fight an Eight-eyed Giant Spider?" Harry suddenly said.

Ron was momentarily speechless, "Ah, well... that’s not really necessary either."

Harry chuckled, happy to tease his good friend.

At this moment, Professor McGonagall took a few steps forward, holding a roll of parchment in her hand.

She reached out, grabbed the point of the Magic Hat, and lifted it up.

"Oh, don’t treat the Old Hat like this, it’s already old enough not to be treated like this," the Sorting Hat muttered.

Everyone laughed at the Sorting Hat’s humor.

Professor McGonagall chose to ignore the Sorting Hat’s complaint, saying, "Now when I call your name, put on the hat, sit on the stool, and await sorting."

She didn’t even look at the list, calling out loudly, "Hanna Abbo!"

As the words fell, a rosy-cheeked little girl with two blonde braids stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, and it covered her eyes just right.

She sat down. After a brief pause—"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted.

The right table cheered and clapped to welcome Hanna to sit with them.

Harry saw the Fat Friar ghost from Hufflepuff happily waving at her as well.

"Susan Burns!" Professor McGonagall called out again.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted again and Susan quickly ran to sit next to Hanna.

"Terence Boot!" "Ravenclaw!"

This time the second table on the left clapped. When Terence joined them, several Ravenclaw students stood up to shake his hand.

"Justin Finchley!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Hermione Granger!"

"Go on, Hermione." Ron encouraged her.

Hermione took a deep breath, jogged to the stool, and hastily took the hat from Professor McGonagall, plopping it onto her head.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted.

Ron hummed contentedly.

"Neville Longbottom!"

Neville, hearing Professor McGonagall’s call, started walking towards the stool but stumbled along the way.

The hat took a long time to decide on Neville. When it finally shouted "Gryffindor," Neville even forgot to return the hat to Professor McGonagall, running back with the hat still on his head.

"Hey, boy, return the Old Hat!" the Sorting Hat yelled, "The Old Hat is happy you like it, but you need to return the Old Hat, it doesn’t like being taken away!"

Neville’s face turned beet red, he had to bow his head and return the hat amid the laughter.

When Malfoy’s name was called, Malfoy strutted over and sat on the stool.

As soon as the hat barely touched his head, it screamed, "Slytherin!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking very pleased with himself.

Now, only a few students were left.

Moan... Nott... Parkinson...

Then came a pair of twin sisters named Pateel... followed by Sally Ann Pox... finally, at last—

"Harry Potter!"

Harry stood up and walked unhurriedly towards Professor McGonagall.

As Harry walked forward, a low buzz suddenly filled the dining hall like the crackling of tiny flames.

"Did she call Potter?"

"Is it the Harry Potter?"

After all, these children had grown up listening to the Savior’s stories. If Voldemort had been used to stop their crying in their childhood, then Harry’s name was the perfect lullaby.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Harry, eager to know the sorting result of Mr. Savior.

Harry stepped forward, looking at the familiar Old Hat, recalling how it tried to persuade him to go to Slytherin the first time he wore it.

Now, let’s see if it would still persuade him to go to Slytherin the second time he wears it.

Thinking this, Harry took the hat from Professor McGonagall with both hands—he was the only one who did so and thanked her.

A gentle look flashed in Professor McGonagall’s eyes, and she stepped back a bit, waiting for Harry’s sorting result.

Harry sat on the stool and placed the hat on his head.

"Huh?"

The Old Hat’s voice appeared in his mind.

"Strange, am I losing my mind? Did I just sort you?"