Chapter 1: The Sorting Ceremony

"Susan Pencen-Hedgepatch!" 

"Justin Fenley-Hedgepatch!" 

In the beautifully decorated grand hall, an old, crinkled hat sat with its mouth gaping wide, its edges fraying. It was singing and wriggling restlessly, occasionally nudged by a few brave young wizards, causing the hat to burst into a strange series of laughs. As the names of each student were called, followed by the house they were assigned to, the students sitting below clapped in either enthusiastic or half-hearted applause. At least during this welcoming ceremony, even Gryffindor and Slytherin, who were usually at odds, maintained a semblance of harmony.

The students waiting to be sorted anxiously or eagerly watched as their peers donned the Sorting Hat, then made their way to the appropriate house tables under the Hat's quirky remarks. Among them, however, stood a lanky boy who seemed out of place. He gazed around in confusion at the ornate, old-fashioned decorations and the strange floating candles. The twinkling lights illuminated the hall, and translucent ghosts drifted through the air, making the boy feel disoriented. For a long moment, he murmured to himself. 

"Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?" 

"Strange, wasn't I just lying in a hospital bed, nearly dead?" 

Just as the boy tried to make sense of the surreal scene, a loud, authoritative voice rang through the hall. 

"Ivan Halls!" 

Professor Minerva McGonagall stood by the table holding the Sorting Hat, staring at the parchment in her hand. When no student came forward after a long pause, she frowned and called again. 

"Ivan Halls!" 

After a prolonged silence, even Professor Dumbledore cast a puzzled look in the boy's direction, and the older students began whispering among themselves. 

"Who? Who's Ivan? What nerve!" 

"Did he get lost? Did he miss the Sorting Ceremony?" 

"This is going to be interesting."

The remaining first-years, under the watchful eyes of professors and upperclassmen, stepped back a few paces. But Ivan, with his black hair and confused expression, remained standing in the same spot, making him all the more conspicuous. 

"Ivan Halls, please come up to the stage!" Professor McGonagall repeated. 

"Me?" Ivan pointed to himself, his mind spinning. The scene felt both unfamiliar and oddly familiar at the same time. 

"Yes, please come up quickly. There are other students who need sorting, just like everyone else did." Perhaps because Ivan was a new student, Professor McGonagall, even after calling his name for the fourth time, didn't sound angry—just a bit concerned that the boy might be nervous. 

Before Ivan could process what was happening, he felt a light push, and the students in front of him, almost as if on cue, gently nudged him forward, one by one, towards the stage. 

"Alright, child, come over here," Professor McGonagall stepped forward, placing a hand on Ivan's shoulder to guide him to a chair. She then placed the Sorting Hat atop his head. 

The Hat squirmed restlessly on Ivan's head before speaking in a comically mischievous tone. 

"Hey, kid, don't be so shy. You're not the first to be nervous in this place, trust me. Just close your eyes, and it'll be over in no time—won't hurt a bit!" 

Ivan rolled his eyes. After spending a while among the other first-years, he had come up with some guesses about what was going on, but he still found it hard to believe. 

But is this really Hogwarts? The magical place where they teach magic? But isn't that…

Before Ivan could continue his train of thought, the Sorting Hat's voice suddenly echoed in his ear.

"Why, of course! This is Hogwarts! You're not dreaming, I can guarantee it one hundred percent!"

"I bet you're from a Muggle family, aren't you? Every few years, there are always new little wizards who don't believe magic is real. They think it's all tricks and want me to pull a long-eared rabbit out of my body. I tell them there's nothing inside my hat, but they don't believe me."

The Sorting Hat rambled on, telling silly jokes, its mouth stretching nearly to the brim.

Ivan, startled by the Hat's memory-reading ability, quickly tried to calm his mind.

But perhaps because of the Sorting Hat's influence, a series of unfamiliar memories flashed through Ivan's mind, like slides in a projector. The images were fragmented, and Ivan couldn't piece them together. It seemed like a witch was teaching him magic.

The witch in the memory looked about thirty, with beautiful long golden hair. She was saying something, but then Ivan suddenly felt a wave of fear rush over him.

The Sorting Hat scoffed, commenting on how chaotic the thoughts of this little wizard were. It also seemed surprised that Ivan wasn't from a Muggle family—after all, how could a wizard-born child not know about Hogwarts?

A bead of cold sweat appeared on Ivan's forehead. Although the thoughts and memories the Sorting Hat had read were those of the original owner, Ivan had no idea how much the Hat could uncover. He wondered if it might find out some important secrets. He had no choice but to try forcing himself to think of trivial things.

"Ahem..." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat a couple of times, as if to remind the Sorting Hat to get on with the task at hand.

The Sorting Hat stopped its rambling, and Ivan finally breathed a sigh of relief, though he was still curious about which house he would be assigned to.

"Hmm, let me see… optimistic, clever, and loves to overthink," the Sorting Hat drawled, then suddenly lowered its voice. "And you also know a little bit of dark magic."

"I know dark magic?" Ivan, confused, tried to recall the memory from earlier.

"Oh yes, it's an ancient and rare form of dark magic," the Sorting Hat whispered to Ivan, almost like it was telling him a secret.

"Of course, to me, it's an interesting form of dark magic. It always shows people things they don't want to see. Someone once used it to play pranks… maybe you could try that too."

"Although Dumbledore would definitely prefer no one uses it that way," the Sorting Hat added with a little self-mockery.

"So, where should I go? Slytherin?" Ivan wondered, still curious about the dark magic, but the sorting was the most important thing right now.

Once the Sorting Hat made its decision, he could finally take it off his head.

Among the four Hogwarts houses, Gryffindor required courage (or perhaps recklessness?), Ravenclaw prized wisdom or a thirst for knowledge. Slytherin was known for its cunning, sneaky traits, and exceptional magical talent.

As for Hufflepuff… Ivan thought that house usually just took in the leftover students.

The Sorting Hat's mention of dark magic seemed to fit the Slytherin profile, but Ivan, being both optimistic and clever, could easily end up in Ravenclaw instead.

He couldn't help but feel a little narcissistic thinking about it.

"No, no, no, none of those," the Sorting Hat's tone suddenly became a little more playful. "Though this may disappoint you, Slytherin usually chooses only those with true talent. So…"

"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat's voice rang out, suddenly loud and clear, filling the entire hall.

"Gryffindor?" Ivan quickly removed the Sorting Hat from his head, somewhat surprised. He didn't even have time to comment on the Hat's evaluation of his talents.

"Yes, yes, you belong there!" the Sorting Hat said confidently. "I've never been wrong. You have the qualities they need!"