Chapter 99

Chapter 99: Sorting?

Evening – Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office

The circular room was spacious and grand, filled with curious, whirring silver instruments that sat on spindly-legged tables, puffing little clouds of smoke. The walls were lined with portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, most of whom were napping contentedly.

Some snoozed in plush armchairs within their frames, while others leaned lazily against the borders. At the center stood a large claw-footed desk, behind which sat a high-backed chair. Perched on a shelf nearby was the frayed and battered Sorting Hat.

Atop a gilded perch behind the desk stood a great, ancient bird—Fawkes the phoenix—ruffling his feathers like a half-plucked turkey.

Behind the desk sat a wizard with a long, crooked nose, half-moon spectacles, and a flowing silver beard that shimmered like mist: Albus Dumbledore.

Suddenly, a brown owl swooped in through the open window, landing lightly beside the silver instruments. Dumbledore looked up, eyes twinkling as he removed a note from the owl's leg. The parchment transformed midair into a paper bird and fluttered onto his desk, unfolding on its own.

Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes flickered as he read its contents. A hint of satisfaction touched his face. He tapped the desk lightly, and a clean parchment floated toward him. He wrote a few flowing words, the letters looping in an elegant spiral.

A dusty file folder then stirred, shook itself free of cobwebs, and opened to produce an envelope, already addressed in tidy script: Penny Evans.

He slipped the letter inside the envelope, and it sealed itself with a flicker of silvery flame before vanishing.

"Everything is proceeding as planned. Harry will be safer this way…"

But then he paused, speaking to himself in a softer tone, "Or is it just my imagination? Smith, Longbottom, and Potter all in the same house? The dark wizards of Knockturn Alley keep disappearing… and now Skywalker appears out of nowhere? Then…"

If Alexander Smith had been there, he would've been stunned—there was no apparent connection between these events. But Dumbledore, the most revered white wizard alive, had always trusted his intuition more than cold logic. After all, it had guided him well beyond level six in the elusive philosophy of love.

After about ten minutes of quiet thought, Dumbledore smiled mysteriously and vanished from the office.

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Wednesday Morning – Great Hall, Hogwarts

The night before, all prefects had received a message to tell their housemates to sleep early.

At 4 a.m., the castle stirred. Still bleary-eyed, the students filed from their dormitories toward the Great Hall, arranged neatly by house. It was the largest gathering since the start of the term. Prefects busily moved between tables, counting heads and checking attendance.

On the raised platform at the front, the Sorting Hat had reappeared, sitting on the familiar three-legged stool.

All the professors were seated—except for Professor Snape.

As the time neared 8 a.m., Dumbledore stood from his seat. A hush fell across the hall.

"Good morning!" he called with a warm smile. "Before breakfast begins, I have an announcement. You've all been called here today because a new student will be joining the Hogwarts family."

"There will be a sorting ceremony shortly after his arrival."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall. Students began whispering to the most well-informed among them. At Gryffindor, the Weasley twins leaned forward eagerly. In Ravenclaw, a petite first-year girl—Kate—was quickly surrounded by curious classmates asking questions.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall swung open with a loud bang.

Professor Snape strode in, his black robes billowing behind him like the wings of a giant bat. Behind him followed a hulking boy in wizard robes, clearly nervous and uncomfortable.

Even Crabbe and Goyle looked small next to him.

"No way!" Harry Potter stood up abruptly, eyes wide as he stared at the newcomer.

The large boy hesitated, frozen in place. Snape turned sharply and gave him a pointed look. With visible effort, the boy stepped forward.

The Slytherin table buzzed with interest. Who was this boy that Snape himself had escorted—and why had Harry reacted so strongly?

When the boy finally reached the Sorting Hat, Dumbledore announced his name.

"Dudley Dursley!"

Dudley wiped sweat from his brow and placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Hmm… interesting," the Hat mused aloud—unusually so. "Rare darkness, a desire to dominate the strong. Azkaban material, perhaps?"

"No! No! No! Not that—please not with Harry Potter! Not Ravenclaw either… Please…"

"Hmm… well then, Hufflepuff!"

The Sorting Hat's voice had echoed aloud, for all to hear—unlike the usual private thoughts. The hall fell into stunned silence.

Were all those conflicting evaluations really about the same person?

Harry instinctively reached behind to cover his rear, a habit from years of survival. Aunt Petunia's consistent underfeeding might have been a blessing after all. He glanced at his cousin and recalled Dudley's entourage—Pierre, Danny, Morken, Gordon—all burly, mean-spirited boys. And now…

Vomit.

Before more whispers could spread, Dumbledore suddenly stood and walked toward the Sorting Hat. Without wearing it, he lifted the hat gently and seemed to communicate silently with it.

After a moment, he turned back to face the students. His penetrating blue gaze swept over the hall.

"Rumors," he began solemnly, "are a terrible thing."

"I must apologize for the Sorting Hat's behavior. Its initial assessment of Mr. Dursley was… incorrect, caused by a curious magical interference. What you heard afterward was its genuine evaluation, broadcast so that all could understand the truth of Mr. Dursley's placement."

"This was done in fairness to him—and to you."

He nodded, then smiled.

"Now then—let us eat."

A few scattered claps came from the Hufflepuff table as Dudley scurried over to join them. Most of his new housemates shuffled subtly away as he sat down.

"Harry," whispered Ron, eyeing Dudley warily, "is that the cousin you told me about? The one who used to bully you like a Dementor with a sandwich?"

"Just eat your food, Ron," Harry replied darkly, deliberately ignoring the rare, thoughtful glance that Snape cast his way from the staff table.

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