The Great Hall fell into a hush the moment Sean stepped forward.
Hundreds of eyes swung toward him—students craning their necks, professors pausing mid-movement,
and at the staff table, beneath the gleam of golden plates and goblets, Dumbledore watched him with a faint spark of curiosity.
Sean pretended not to notice the attention.
Under Professor McGonagall's gentle guidance, he placed the Sorting Hat onto his head.
"I will teach many, and treat them all as equals."
He silently recited Helga Hufflepuff's words, hoping the Hat would take the hint.
A tiny voice chuckled in his ear.
"A gratifying sentiment, little wizard. Not many remember what old Hat sings.
So—you wish for Hufflepuff? Of course… absolutely not."
Sean: "…"
He would have preferred no answer at all.
"Why?" he asked inwardly, confused.
And suddenly, the Hat started singing.
"By the riverside where wisdom sleeps, fair Ravenclaw stands proud…"
The ancient fabric wriggled on Sean's head as it sang.
"Sir? Sorting Hat, sir?"
Sean winced, holding it steady.
"In Ravenclaw, dwell those of wit, where sharp minds soar and truths are sought…"
Sean clenched his jaw.
"I want to go to Hufflepuff."
"Headstrong child. Why must it be Hufflepuff?"
"Sir, why must it be Ravenclaw?"
A soft sigh rustled against his ear.
*"Thirteen hours a day practicing spells, until you can't lift your arms.
Barely literate, yet you memorized every book you bought in under two months.
Not since Rowena herself have I seen such hunger for knowledge.
Slytherin could nurture your ambition.
Gryffindor would welcome your courage.
Hufflepuff sees your kindness.
But only Ravenclaw can give a mind like yours the wings to reach the truth."
Sean's spirit deflated. He repeated stubbornly:
"I want to go to Hufflepuff."
And to his astonishment, the Hat replied:
"Very well."
Sean's green eyes lit up.
Then—
"I lied."
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Hat bellowed it for the entire hall to hear.
Sean reflexively squeezed the Hat and heard a yelp:
"Ow ow ow—stop pinching—OW!"
He didn't hear the muttering that followed as the Hat was lifted away:
"…Ha! Fooled Ravenclaw again.
Rowena, you used to crush my stitching just like that.
Twelve centuries… and at last, I have kept my promise to Godric—
I've found your heir.
In that fragile body lies remarkable power.
The Hat is never wrong."
Ravenclaw is fine, Sean told himself.
At least it isn't Slytherin.
Applause burst from the Ravenclaw table.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff joined in—loudest among them was Justin, who stood and practically smacked his palms red.
Sean's chest tightened.
Such a good Hufflepuff.
Such a villainous Hat.
Professor McGonagall watched him with warmth in her eyes.
The patched hand-me-downs were gone, replaced with a crisp Hogwarts robe.
His worn shoes had become polished black leather boots.
And in his cautious yet bright emerald eyes, hope gleamed.
She removed the Hat with care.
"Ready, Mr. Green? To begin your new life?"
Sean froze for half a heartbeat, then allowed himself to be gently guided toward the Ravenclaw table.
"Welcome!"
A slightly round boy waved with enthusiasm.
"I can't believe you were a Hatstall!"
He extended a hand—then immediately pulled it back to push up his slipping bronze-rimmed glasses, flustering all over himself.
"Hatstall?" Sean echoed, baffled.
"Oh Merlin—you don't know?!" The boy gasped.
"Not everyone studies that ragged old hat, Terry," another voice sighed.
A dark-haired boy leaned over, expression resigned.
"When I sat down, Terry asked me how many windows Hogwarts has. I swear, the only time he'll care is when they all fall off their hinges and crush him."
"Windows are important!" Terry huffed, cheeks flushed.
"Sure," the older boy humored him, then turned back to Sean.
"Hatstall means a Sorting that lasts more than five minutes.
Very rare—once every fifty years or so.
I'm Michael Corner. Welcome to Ravenclaw."
Sean shook his hand, still confused.
Five minutes?
He could have sworn no more than a few seconds had passed.
As if someone had stolen time.
"Sean Green."
When the last student joined Slytherin, Dumbledore rose to speak, arms spread wide, face full of delight.
"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!
Before we begin our feast, I have just a few words:
Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"
Terry scribbled madly, Michael just sighed knowingly.
Sean didn't pay them any attention—
because in that instant, the empty golden plates were suddenly overflowing.
Roast beef, roasted chicken, sausages, lamb chops, baked potatoes, fried potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, carrots, gravy, apple pie, chocolate sponge, treacle tart, doughnuts, rice pudding, strawberries—
Sean recognized every dish from his carefully memorized list.
It had begun.
Time to eat.
He activated his internal ability:
Food Sweep: One-Click Full Clear.
Michael's jaw dropped.
"How—how is he eating that fast and still looking elegant?"
Advance Chapters available on Patreon