Stepping off the train, Lucien saw an extremely tall, heavily bearded man holding a lantern.
He was shouting in a booming voice:
"First years, this way, this way."
"Hurry, hurry, don't be shy."
Seeing this man, Harry walked up and greeted him:
"Hi, Hagrid."
Hagrid lowered his head and smiled at Harry.
"Hello, Harry. Are these children your new friends?"
Hagrid scanned the three people standing beside Harry and asked in a muffled voice.
Harry shyly nodded and quietly replied,
"We just met on the train."
Hagrid smiled at the young witches and wizards.
"Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Alright, First years, follow me!"
Soon, Hagrid led dozens of first-year witches and wizards to the pitch-black lake, the Black Lake.
Across the water, Lucien could already see Hogwarts Castle.
A tall and majestic Gothic castle stood in the distance. It was evening now, and lights twinkled throughout its windows.
This ancient building, which had stood for over a thousand years, radiated the mystery and wonder of magic.
Lucien's heart stirred with excitement.
Hogwarts, I'm finally here!
"Children, four to a boat."
With that, Hagrid found a small boat for himself and began leading the young witches and wizards forward.
Lucien naturally joined Harry and his two companions in a boat, slowly trailing behind Hagrid.
From behind, Hagrid, sitting in his boat, looked like a small mountain; the waterline of his vessel sank deeper than that of the four students' boat combined.
This path they were taking was said to be the very route the four founders of Hogwarts had taken when they first arrived.
Therefore, every year, new witches and wizards had to take this path, which was considered a ritual.
"Hey, which House do you all want to be in?"
Ron leaned over and whispered to Lucien and the others.
Knowing that they might not understand the Hogwarts House system, Ron explained.
"Hogwarts has four Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each witch and wizard is sorted into one upon arrival, and every House has its own traits…"
After saying this, Ron shook his head and spread his hands.
"I don't know which House you'll get, but I'm definitely a Gryffindor."
All the red-haired Weasleys were Gryffindors, without exception.
Harry didn't say what he thought. After hearing Ron's explanation, aside from feeling a slight dislike for Slytherin, he felt the other three Houses were fine and he could go to any of them.
Hermione, reaching up to smooth down her brown hair, which had grown even frizzier in the cold wind, said,
"I think Gryffindor is the best; Dumbledore was in Gryffindor! And Ravenclaw sounds like a great place for studying."
Hearing Hermione's words, Ron pouted.
"My brother says Ravenclaw is full of bookworms; it's boring."
Hermione's lips curled into a slightly disdainful smile.
"Oh really? Maybe someone doesn't even have the qualities needed for Ravenclaw?"
Ignoring the quickly fuming Ron, Hermione turned to Lucien and asked,
"Lucien, which House do you want to be in?"
"I don't have a particular preference; I can learn magic anywhere."
...
Soon, the small boats docked, and the group of young witches and wizards followed Hagrid, gathering before a huge oak door.
With a creak, the door swung open.
A witch in dark green robes stepped out—it was Professor McGonagall.
"Professor McGonagall, all the first years are here," Hagrid said, pointing behind him.
"Thank you, Hagrid. You can leave the rest to me."
"Children, follow me."
Professor McGonagall turned and entered the large door first, with the young witches and wizards filing in behind her.
In stark contrast to the dark, chilly air outside, the castle's interior walls were lined with burning torches, and countless candles floated in midair, filling the space with light and warmth.
Looking up at the ceiling, they saw an illusory starry sky.
Faced with this dreamlike, ancient castle scene, many of the young witches and wizards couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, gazing around with curiosity.
Inside the Great Hall, several long tables were arranged lengthwise, with older students already seated on both sides.
At the far end was a raised platform, upon which stood a single long table placed crosswise.
Teachers sat there, most of them looking at the newly admitted students with kind eyes.
When they reached the platform, Professor McGonagall turned to the group of first-years, her expression serious.
"I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and Head of Gryffindor House."
The young witches and wizards fell silent.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Before the Opening Feast, there will be a Sorting Ceremony, where you will be placed into one of the four Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. During your time at school, this will be your home. Your good performance will earn points for your House, while breaking rules will result in points being deducted. At the end of the year, the House with the highest total will be awarded the House Cup…"
As soon as Professor McGonagall finished speaking, the hat beside her suddenly split open, and a hoarse voice came from within.
"It's my turn, it's my turn!"
♫"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"♪
As the tattered, patched, grayish-brown hat sang loudly, most of the young witches and wizards stared at it in surprise.
They were all curious as to why a hat could talk and sing, but hardly anyone paid much attention to the song itself, since it wasn't particularly impressive.
Only after the Sorting Hat finished its performance did it fall silent with satisfaction.
Professor McGonagall picked it up and pulled out a list of students.
"The witch or wizard whose name I call will step forward."
"Hannah Abbott."
Lucien watched from below as a young girl with rosy cheeks and two golden braids stepped onto the stage.
McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Hannah's head, and it didn't hesitate.
"Hufflepuff!"
The older students at the Hufflepuff table immediately applauded and cheered. The first student of the year being sorted into Hufflepuff was considered a good omen! They would have reason to celebrate with a feast later.
"..."
"Hermione Granger."
After taking a few deep breaths, Hermione stepped onto the stage.
When the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, it took noticeably longer to decide.
But after less than five minutes, it finally shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
Hearing the result, Ron leaned toward Harry and whispered,
"She mocked me for not having Ravenclaw qualities, yet she didn't get sorted into Ravenclaw herself."
In truth, Ron's parents and brothers had explained to him that the Sorting Hat placed students according to their most prominent and genuine qualities. The longer it hesitated, the more Houses the student likely had qualities for.
So Ron knew Hermione must have had Ravenclaw traits as well—he just wanted to talk trash.
Harry didn't respond to Ron because Lucien's name was about to be called, and he was curious to see which House Lucien would be sorted into.
"Lucien Grafton."
When Lucien stepped onto the stage, Professor McGonagall showed a rare smile.
The Sorting Hat was placed on his head. Its mouth-like slit pressed tightly together, and the two depressions resembling eye sockets flickered in size.
One minute passed.
Three minutes passed.
Five minutes passed.
Ten minutes passed...
As time went on, McGonagall's expression grew increasingly strange.
When she had been sorted, the Sorting Hat had taken a full five minutes to decide—a very long time, and enough to label her a "Sorting Hat dilemma" student.
But Lucien's time was far exceeding that.
The professors at the teachers' table looked surprised, exchanging glances. This was the longest they had ever seen the Sorting Hat spend on a student.
Dumbledore, seated in the center, clasped his hands together, a shrewd glint flashing in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.
His interest and attention toward Lucien only deepened.
The young witches and wizards, who had never waited so long before, grew restless and began whispering.
"Could that old hat be broken?"
"No way—can magic items even break?"
"It looks like it. Don't you think that hat is ridiculously old?"
"..."
Harry, who had been staring fixedly at Lucien, felt his eyes go dry. He adjusted his glasses and blinked.
Suddenly, his beautiful emerald-green eyes widened.
"P-Professor! That hat is smoking!"