"She won't miss the Sorting, right?"
"She probably won't, right?"
…
Amidst the murmuring, Professor McGonagall's voice rang out.
"Silence. No one will miss the Sorting. She'll just be a little late. Our school nurse will treat her injuries quickly."
As she spoke, Professor McGonagall's gaze swept over everyone. The whispering students fell silent like shadows under sunlight—vanished completely.
"Though there's been a bit of an incident, welcome to Hogwarts. The Welcome Feast is about to begin, but before that, you'll participate in the Sorting Ceremony."
Andrew clearly noticed that several students around him suddenly looked nervous.
But just like the upper-year students on the train, Professor McGonagall coldly and mercilessly ignored the pleading looks from below. After introducing the four Houses and reminding them to get along with their housemates, she left them standing in place—saying she hoped they'd maintain proper posture before the ceremony.
It felt just like when the homeroom teacher shows up to a late evening class—once McGonagall was gone, the new students began to chatter and buzz with questions again.
Still, no one had the energy to worry about the girl who'd fallen behind—many didn't even know who she was.
Even Andrew, though a bit concerned, was more preoccupied with the details of the Sorting itself. Based on what he'd seen so far, he might be in danger of ending up in Slytherin.
Even with the little he knew about Slytherin, he could already imagine the chaos that would follow—unless he claimed to be the long-lost heir of some pure-blood dark wizard family…
Not impossible… but I'd have to polish the backstory. If they see through me, I won't survive in that House. I can't link myself to Voldemort, but maybe I could say my grandfather was a follower of Grindelwald, then went into hiding in Britain… Anyway, I'll just drop vague hints and let them assume things.
Andrew had read that there was no magical way to verify pure-blood heritage. As long as his story held up, no one could disprove it.
While mentally rehearsing his fictional lineage, an exclamation came from the front of the new students' line.
A group of ghosts phased through the wall—unsurprisingly terrifying the new students.
After listening for a bit and confirming they weren't saying anything useful, Andrew returned to perfecting his Slytherin survival strategy. Just as his plan was nearly complete, Professor McGonagall returned.
"Single file. Follow me."
After a bit of shuffling, the line took shape. A bunch of nervous first-years followed McGonagall, trembling as they entered the entrance hall.
As all eyes turned to them, even Andrew felt a pang of anxiety.
But nerves wouldn't change anything. The Sorting Ceremony didn't speed up or slow down for anyone.
Once they were lined up, a rather shabby-looking hat was placed on a four-legged stool (the Sorting Hat, Andrew reminded himself, gaining a little confidence). Then, the hat burst into a rather unpleasant-sounding song.
Andrew noticed McGonagall checking a parchment while subtly glancing at the doors. (Right, someone still hasn't arrived.)
But even when the hat finished singing, the door remained shut.
McGonagall's expression didn't change. After one final glance toward the entrance, she stepped forward with the parchment.
"When I call your name, come up here and put on the Sorting Hat."
She paused slightly before reading the first name:
"Susan Bones!"
A girl hesitated for a moment, then stumbled forward and put on the hat.
"Hufflepuff!"
The hat announced the House almost immediately. Susan ran over to the Hufflepuff table, where cheers welcomed her.
"Terry Boot!"
The next student was sorted into Ravenclaw.
…
The ceremony continued smoothly, though the students waiting were no less anxious.
"Justin Finch-Fletchley!"
Just as his name was called, the entrance doors swung open.
Everyone turned to look. Andrew saw a towering figure—Hagrid.
McGonagall gestured for Justin to proceed with his Sorting while she quickly met Hagrid and led the previously injured girl back to the new student line. (The hat shouted "Hufflepuff!" for her.)
Then the ceremony resumed.
The number of students dwindled. Andrew realized he'd be among the last to be called.
"Harry Potter!"
That name caused the previously quiet ceremony to explode with excitement. Even more curious—Harry's Sorting took a long time.
"Gryffindor!"
Finally, the hat shouted its verdict. Every gaze followed Harry as he walked toward the Gryffindor table.
And then, Andrew heard his own name.
"Andrew Taylor."
He quickly stepped forward, sat down, and placed the hat on his head.
"What are you afraid of?"A small voice murmured."Oh! Oh my—so you were the one from that story!"
Almost immediately, the hat shouted:
"Ravenclaw!"
Andrew hadn't even adjusted the hat properly before the Sorting result was announced.
He ripped the hat off quickly—panicked. It read the thing I was most afraid of!
"Easy there, be gentle with an old, handsome hat..."The hat, which should've gone silent for the next student, spoke again."I know many things, but I never tell anyone."
"Go on now—you'll make a fine Ravenclaw!"
Its muttered words weren't loud, but McGonagall caught the exchange and gave Andrew a sharp look. Thankfully, everyone else was still focused on Harry, and no one else noticed.
At the Gryffindor table, the red-haired Weasleys were shouting joyfully about having Harry Potter.
Andrew, slightly calmer now, walked toward the Ravenclaw table while thinking through what had just happened.
It must be able to read thoughts…
Judging by how long it took for some people, it probably can't decide just from a few surface-level thoughts, so it has to dig deeper.
So, it only found my biggest fear…
That's the good news—if the reading was that fast, it probably didn't go too deep.
But…
Let's hope it really does keep its mouth shut, like it said…
Having accidentally revealed something he never intended to on his first day at the castle, Andrew sat down with a faint hope that a hat could actually keep a secret.