In the vast Great Hall, all eyes turned towards him.
Sean saw wizards at the different house tables craning their necks. Beside the gleaming golden plates and goblets at the staff table, there was Dumbledore's gaze, tinged with interest.
Sean tried his best to look as if he knew nothing, and under Professor McGonagall's gentle instruction, he put on the Sorting Hat.
"I must teach many, and treat them all equally," Sean silently recited the words of Helga Hufflepuff, hoping this would let the Hat know his desired house.
"An admirable young wizard," Sean heard a tiny voice say. "Very few remember the old Hat's songs. You wish to go to Hufflepuff? That, of course... is a no."
Sean: "..."
Might as well not have answered.
"Why?" Sean asked quietly in his mind.
"Let the old Hat sing it again—Fair Ravenclaw, from glen..." The Sorting Hat suddenly began to sing, while simultaneously squirming relentlessly on Sean's head.
"Mr. Sorting Hat?" Sean clutched his head, asking in confusion.
"Those of wit and learning will find Ravenclaw their home..." The Hat continued to sing and squirm.
"I want to go to Hufflepuff," Sean seemed to realize something.
"Ravenclaw says: 'We'll teach those whose intelligence is surest...'" The Hat sang on incessantly.
"I want to go to Hufflepuff!" Sean made a final attempt to struggle.
"Stubborn little wizard, why must it be Hufflepuff?"
"Mr. Hat, why must it be Ravenclaw for me?"
"Hmm. Practicing spells for thirteen hours a day, until you can't move another muscle; barely knowing English, yet memorizing all the books you bought within two months... Apart from Rowena, the old Hat hasn't seen a wizard so thirsty for knowledge in a long time. Slytherin could help you achieve your ambitions, Gryffindor admires your courage, and Hufflepuff would accept your kind heart," the Hat's voice was filled with emotion. "But only Ravenclaw can grant a wise wizard the ability to pursue truth!"
"I want to go to Hufflepuff." Sean felt his resolve weakening considerably.
"Alright then," the Hat said, surprisingly agreeing. Sean's emerald eyes brightened. "Psych!" The Hat's voice became loud and clear, "RAVENCLAW!!!"
A disappointed Sean gave the Sorting Hat a pinch.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch..." Hearing the Hat's pained cries made Sean feel a bit better.
But he didn't hear the second part of its muttering:
"...Heh, I tricked a Ravenclaw... Truly a lineage thing, Rowena, you used to pinch the old Hat without knowing your strength too... Twelve centuries... The old Hat has finally fulfilled its promise to Gryffindor, found an heir for Ravenclaw. Just you watch, within this little one's frail body lies great power. The old Hat is never wrong."
Ravenclaw would do, Sean told himself. At least it wasn't Slytherin.
Before Sean could even hand the Hat back to Professor McGonagall, he heard enthusiastic applause erupt from the Ravenclaw table. Even Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were clapping. Looking over, the most enthusiastic was Justin, who was on his feet, leading a group of Hufflepuffs in a round of vigorous clapping.
Seeing this, Sean felt even worse.
What wonderful Hufflepuffs they were!
What a dreadful Sorting Hat!
In the center of the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall looked at Sean kindly.
His old, pilled robe had been replaced by the plain black Hogwarts robes; his ill-fitting shoes had become stylish British leather boots; and his cautiously bright green eyes now shone with a glimmer of anticipation.
She took the hat from him: "Ready, Mr. Green? Go on, embrace your new life."
Sean was momentarily stunned, then Professor McGonagall gently nudged him towards the Ravenclaw table.
"Welcome!" Sean saw a slightly chubby young wizard waving at him from a seat nearby. "I can't believe it, you were a Hatstall!"
Curiosity shone from behind his large, copper-rimmed glasses. He jolted and extended a hand towards Sean, but unfortunately, his glasses started sliding down his nose, so the outstretched hand went to adjust them instead. He ended up in a fluster, apologizing repeatedly to Sean.
"Hatstall?" Sean didn't mind the awkwardness, his large eyes full of confusion.
"Oh! Good heavens! You don't know!" The slightly chubby wizard's mouth fell open.
"Terry, not everyone researches that shabby old hat," a voice came from behind him. It was a boy with long black hair, who cut off Terry with a somewhat exasperated tone.
"Don't mind him. Terry always loves researching these odd questions. When I first sat down, he was asking me how many windows there are in Hogwarts. Merlin's beard, who cares about that? Unless they all fall down, they'd definitely crush Terry Boot underneath while he's busy counting them."
"N-no, the windows are important!" The young wizard named Terry flushed red, clearly flustered.
"Alright, alright," the long-black-haired boy said, humoring him. Then, with evident interest, he explained to Sean, "Hatstall. It means a Sorting Hat dilemma. It refers to a student who takes more than five minutes to be sorted. It's very rare, said to happen only about once every fifty years or so. By the way, I'm Michael Corner. Welcome to Ravenclaw." He extended his hand.
Sean was even more puzzled. Over five minutes? But he distinctly remembered it being only a short while! It was as if something had stolen the time, Sean thought.
"Sean Green." Their hands shook lightly.
After the last new student was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore stood up. He beamed at the students, stretching his arms wide as if nothing pleased him more than seeing them all gathered together.
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts for another year! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
As he spoke, Terry frantically took notes, while Michael beside him wore an "I knew this would happen" expression.
Sean paid no attention because the table in front of him was now magically piled high with food. Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, rice pudding…
Sean mentally checked it against the menu he had once compiled – it was exactly the same as he remembered.
'Let the feast begin', Sean said to himself.
And with that, he activated his 'one-click sweep' mode.
"How does he manage to eat so fast, yet still look so elegant?" a dumbfounded Michael asked another boy to his left.