"Hermione, do you know how we're sorted into our houses?" Harry asked as soon as Professor McGonagall had finished her speech and left the room.
He felt that he had no special talent for Potions like Dudley, nor could he teach himself spells like Hermione. And unlike Ron and Neville, who grew up in the wizarding world, he still couldn't perform a single spell, despite having read a few books.
Unfortunately, Hermione, the know-it-all, disappointed him. She shook her head and said, a hint of frustration in her voice, "I don't know. I looked through so many books, and every single one only mentioned that Hogwarts has a Sorting Ceremony, but none of them explained what it actually was. It was always just glossed over."
Harry turned to Neville and Ron.
"My uncle won't tell me," Neville said, looking even more anxious than Harry. His face was miserable. "I think I might not pass. A few years ago, everyone thought I was a Squib."
"It must be some kind of test," Ron said, trying to sound calm, though he was just as nervous as Neville. "Fred said it's very painful, but I think he was just joking."
"Don't worry, Harry," Dudley said, patting his cousin's shoulder. "If you don't make it, we'll go to Smeltings Academy together."
Harry's eyes lit up, and his anxiety immediately melted away. As long as he could be with Dudley, it didn't matter where they went to school.
Just then, a group of pale, translucent figures emerged from the walls, making the students standing in front scream. They were ghosts. Dudley wanted to study the composition and nature of the ghosts, but now was clearly not the time. Professor McGonagall had returned.
"Now, line up in a single file and follow me."
The grandeur of the Great Hall was truly something to behold, especially the thousands of candles floating in mid-air and the enchanted ceiling that showed the night sky. The candles were enchanted so they wouldn't burn down, which was a good thing since so many would be quite a cost.
Magic is so convenient, Dudley thought.
In the middle of the hall was a four-legged stool with a pointed wizard's hat on top. It was a filthy, patched, and worn-looking hat. The Sorting Hat. A wide tear in its brim opened like a mouth, and it began to sing.
"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;
If you've a ready mind, you might enter wise old Ravenclaw, where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin, you'll make your real friends, but those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends."
The first three houses were praised with many positive words. Gryffindor, in particular, was given more compliments than the other three houses combined. When it came to Slytherin, the first line was barely a compliment, and the rest was just pure mockery. The prejudice was obvious.
Dudley wasn't interested in why the Sorting Hat hated Slytherin; maybe it was just a strange quirk of Slytherin himself. He was more curious about which house he would be sorted into and whether the Hat would read his innermost secrets.
Given his magical abilities, Dudley would most likely be sorted into Hufflepuff, as it was considered the house for the average wizard. However, given his studious nature, there was also a chance he could be sorted into Ravenclaw.
Ding.
Just then, a pleasant system notification sounded in Dudley's mind. "Join any Hogwarts house. The reward will be determined by the specific house." It seemed each house had a different reward.
At the same moment, Professor McGonagall took out a parchment and read the first name.
"Hannah Abbott."
It was a girl with golden pigtails. After about ten seconds, the Sorting Hat called out "HUFFLEPUFF," and her fate was sealed.
Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley... one by one, Professor McGonagall read out the names. Dudley realized the list wasn't in alphabetical order. After all, the first name began with an "A," then an "S," then a "J," then a "P," then back to an "H." There was no rhyme or reason to it.
Ron and Neville were both sorted into Gryffindor, and Malfoy, as expected, was sorted into Slytherin.
"Where do you want to go, Hermione?" Dudley asked the girl beside him.
"Gryffindor or Ravenclaw," Hermione said, her expression torn. "I've been thinking about these two houses for a long time. Ravenclaw has its own independent library, and the study atmosphere is so good. But Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both graduated from Gryffindor, and so many famous wizards came from there."
"What about you, Dudley?"
"Any house is fine." Dudley's attitude was much more relaxed. He was pretty sure he would be sorted into Hufflepuff. He was already thinking about when he could sneak out for a midnight snack since the Hufflepuff common room was closest to the kitchens.
When Hermione's name was called, she rushed up, and the Sorting Hat didn't hesitate for a moment before calling out "GRYFFINDOR."
Even with her studious nature, Hermione was born to be a Gryffindor. Being smart and good at school didn't automatically make you a Ravenclaw.
Soon, only Harry and Dudley were left. Harry was second-to-last.
"Don't worry, Harry. No matter what house we're in, we'll always be brothers," Dudley whispered to him.
A short while later, the Sorting Hat's loud voice rang out: "GRYFFINDOR."
"We've got Potter!"
The loudest cheers echoed through the hall. Everyone in Gryffindor was ecstatic. In contrast, the other three houses looked dejected. Dudley even saw Malfoy muttering angrily in the Slytherin section.
When Dudley went up to the stool, no one noticed him except for Hermione and Harry. All eyes were on Harry. After all, he was the saviour.
The Sorting Hat was placed gently on Dudley's head. Dudley felt a surprised voice resonate in his mind.
"Ohhhhh..."
The sound was long and drawn out. "Are you really a wizard?"
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