Hufflepuff who loves to eat, Hufflepuff who loves peace.
Allen felt this house was truly suitable for him. Surrounded by classmates who loved food, he'd be more motivated to cook (and make money)!
As for the new friends he just met likely ending up in Gryffindor, Allen wasn't worried. There were many ways to build friendships—but the path of the "Savior" was too chaotic and would definitely delay his grand ambitions of culinary development!
He had to get into Hufflepuff.
It was said that although the Sorting Hat actively evaluated students, if their talents fit, it usually respected a first-year's personal choice.
As an all-around talent, Allen felt he could go anywhere—which made the Sorting all the more exciting!
Hermione Granger and Harry Potter continued the original plot and entered Gryffindor obediently. Ronald was still waiting behind due to his last name, and soon it was Allen's turn.
When Allen sat in the high chair with his wig-covered head, Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched slightly.
You clearly didn't have that hairstyle before entering. How did your hair get to medium length so quickly?
But Professor McGonagall said nothing. It wasn't against the rules, after all. She silently placed the Sorting Hat on Allen's head.
The moment it touched him, Allen breathed a sigh of relief. Though it looked ancient and filthy, the hat didn't smell odd. Magic items, at least, didn't mold.
"Of course I don't mold," said the Sorting Hat abruptly. "Though I don't get much maintenance, I've got a historic aura, not grime."
The Sorting Hat could peer into a person's heart—not secrets, but enough to understand their personality and place them accordingly.
Allen wasn't surprised. He had purposefully avoided thinking about his origins. Right now, his mind was filled with recipes involving magical beasts and seasoning combinations.
"Okay, 3-7-0," Allen muttered, "so let's get on with the sorting."
Among the previously sorted students, only Harry had chatted with the Sorting Hat briefly. Most decisions had been fast. So Allen got straight to the point: "I want to go to Hufflepuff."
Harry, newly sorted into Gryffindor, looked slightly disappointed. Meanwhile, Hufflepuff students perked up. Even if they didn't know Allen's abilities, his eagerness to join them gave them a small sense of pride.
By contrast, the Slytherins, already annoyed Harry had rejected them, intensified their dislike.
"Oh, Hufflepuff, you say?" the Sorting Hat chuckled. "Then I shall grant your wish…"
It paused dramatically.
"…and sort you into—Gryffindor!"
Hufflepuffs, who had begun preparing to cheer: ???
Harry and the previously disappointed Gryffindors: ???
Allen: ???
Everyone was so stunned that the auditorium fell into awkward silence.
Allen wasn't embarrassed, just confused. He quickly clarified, "I said Hufflepuff!"
He began to wonder if the Sorting Hat was damaged and having hearing issues.
"My hearing is fine, thank you," said the hat, smugly. "And yes, I heard you clearly. But I believe you're better suited for Gryffindor."
"Didn't you say the Sorting Hat respects the student's choice?" Allen argued.
"Oh, you must've heard that from someone," the hat replied lightly. "I usually follow student preference… but today, I choose not to."
Are you serious right now?
Allen's mouth twitched. He glanced toward the Gryffindor table. Resisting now might not only change nothing but offend his future housemates. Still, he wanted answers.
"Why Gryffindor?" Allen asked.
The Sorting Hat replied in a singsong tone:
"The birds are mourning, the fish are crying,
And unicorns are fleeing the forest sighing.
Peaceful Hufflepuff won't hold your fire,
Only brave Gryffindor suits your desire.
Go, with your dangerous thoughts so bold,
Gryffindor's your home, with courage untold."
Its tone-deaf "song" echoed through the hall. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, hiding near the side entrance, both turned green.
Allen's secret inner thoughts, exposed for all to hear, made him wince. In a burst of irritation, he snatched the hat off and handed it back to McGonagall.
"Enough with the singing!" he grumbled. "It's done! Now I'm a walking target!"
He hopped down from the chair, glaring at the smug Sorting Hat. Then, with flair, he yanked off his wig, transformed it back into a windbreaker with a flick of his wand, shook it out, and put it on.
The Sorting Hat glitched in mid-song. Its pointed tip drooped in disbelief.
This was unprecedented—someone had openly shown dislike for the hat in front of the entire school!
The professors, especially Dumbledore, looked on with amusement. The headmaster even turned to Ravenclaw's dean and said with a smile, "An excellent transformation spell."
Professor McGonagall finally ended the scene with a glare. "Back to your table."
"Yes, Professor." Allen buttoned his windbreaker and headed for Gryffindor's table, sitting down next to Hermione to a round of applause from his new housemates.
Why not sit next to Harry?
Please. He wasn't into guys. With the option, of course he'd sit next to the cute girl.
Hermione was indeed adorable and drew attention easily.
The sorting ceremony ended swiftly. Ronald Weasley was also sorted into Gryffindor and eagerly joined Harry.
Dumbledore rose for his traditional, short welcome speech. Just as he began, Hermione turned and glanced shyly at Allen's side profile.
Blushing, she asked softly, "What happened outside the hall earlier?"
"You didn't see it?" Allen was surprised.
"Oh, Neville and I were looking for his toad. We only arrived when the sorting started. I heard you won a wand?" Hermione asked, then looked toward a pale, glaring boy at the Slytherin table. "That angry boy—is that him? He's been staring at you."
"Him? Don't mind him." Allen pulled out a wand from inside his windbreaker. "It's just for a week—he's not worth worrying about."
"A week? But why take his wand at all?" Hermione asked.
"Ah? Nothing much. He was arrogant, so I wanted to teach him a lesson." Allen frowned at the wand. "But... why did I even keep this?"
He took out his own wand—a pale gold elder wand, 14 inches long, the same shade as his hair. Draco Malfoy's wand, in contrast, was only 10 inches and slender.
Side by side, the difference was... odd.
Allen cleared his throat awkwardly and looked away.
Two wands with such different sizes weren't easy to manage. More importantly, they were too thick to be used together. He'd once read a story about using wands as chopsticks—but that idea was clearly a joke.
Still, he gave it a try. With one wand, he attempted to transfigure it into a pair of chopsticks.
Of course, turning one object into two was difficult.
Not giving up, Allen opened his panel and used 5,000 enhancement points to upgrade [Basic Magic Mastery D-] to D.
His remaining points dropped to 11,000. Though the upgrade caused a slight headache, his [Hunting Level] increased to 39, and several new skills, including better spell control, became available.
With magic refined and [Transfiguration] upgraded, Allen understood the limits of the spell. Transfiguration couldn't create multiple objects from one. To truly split something, he needed the [Copying Spell].
"Split in two," Allen whispered, and Draco's wand duplicated itself.
The copies were identical in appearance, though like all duplicates from the copying spell, utterly worthless—Gringotts used such spells to prevent theft in its vaults.
Then, with another transfiguration, the twin wands became a pair of wooden chopsticks.
Hermione stared. "What... are those?"
"Convenient utensils." Allen grinned, pinching the air with them. It had been years, but muscle memory remained.
"Utensils...?" Hermione was intrigued but distracted by the sudden appearance of food.
Dumbledore had finished his speech, and the four house tables were now covered with an incredible feast. Delicious scents filled the air.
Allen tied a silk napkin around his collar and, under Draco's furious glare, used his wand-chopsticks to grab a drumstick.
The food constantly replenished itself—remove one item, and it would be instantly replaced.
Legendary abundance—but sadly, the food's quality disappointed Allen. The seasoning was unbalanced, and the heating inconsistent.
The magical method of cooking lacked precision. Wizards and house-elves relied on cooking spells, but none of them controlled fire well. Without mastering temperature, perfect flavor was impossible.
Allen took one bite and winced. The dry, stringy texture made it hard to swallow. He forced himself to finish, though the salad and pumpkin juice were only marginally better.
Cooking magic, in its current state, was appalling.
After eating a few sad bites, Allen restored the wand, wiped it clean, and returned it to his coat pocket.
He glanced over and saw Harry struggling with the same problem.
Allen's gourmet cooking had spoiled Harry, too. Now Hogwarts food tasted bland.
Harry sighed at Ronald, who was devouring his food enthusiastically, and shot Allen a helpless look.
The grand dinner ended in silent disappointment for both.
Dumbledore stood again. "All students, follow your prefects to your dormitories. I hope you have pleasant dreams to prepare for your studies tomorrow."
The first Monday of term loomed ahead.
The Gryffindor prefect—Percy Weasley, a red-haired, serious, humorless older brother of Ron—stood up to lead them.
"Follow closely," Percy instructed. "I'm your prefect and here to help manage school life. If you need anything, let me know."
Allen stood slowly and watched the professors prepare to leave.
Suddenly, he pointed his wand at his throat and cast a modified Sonorus spell.
"Headmaster Dumbledore!" Allen's magically amplified voice echoed across the hall, making everyone jump.
All eyes turned to him, and the noise stopped.
Allen cleared his throat and declared in a thunderous voice:
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I want to challenge you!"
Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat in shock.
On the ground, the hat chuckled smugly. "Told you—he's brimming with dangerous ideas. Gryffindor all the way."
Any other house would've sent him straight to Azkaban.
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