20: The First-Years Were Scared to Tears

"I'm preparing for the upcoming trial!"

That one sentence caught everyone's attention.

The young witches and wizards were already anxious about the Sorting Ceremony, filled with fear of the unknown.

Seeing Wayne's behavior—did he actually know more about the Sorting Ceremony?

"Hey, do you know what the Sorting Ceremony test is?"

A domineering voice interrupted him. The speaker was a platinum-haired boy, flanked by two hulking lackeys who were clearly broader and taller than the average student.

The boy looked decent, but his expression was incredibly irritating—he gave off a thoroughly unlikable vibe.

Wayne clenched his fists. As someone who had ruled his elementary school as the "school tyrant" for four years, it had been a long time since anyone dared speak to him like that.

But remembering his plan, he kept his expression calm and explained:

"Yeah, Cedric and a pair of twins just told me how the Sorting works."

Ron, who was standing next to Harry, gasped softly.

"Twins? Couldn't be George and Fred, could it?!"

Wayne heard him and nodded. "You're Ron Weasley, right? Your brothers told me about you."

That did it—every first-year swarmed over, chattering and asking:

"What exactly is the Sorting Ceremony?"

"Is it dangerous?"

"I haven't even learned a single spell yet—can I still enroll?"

Perfect. They're all hooked.

Wayne smirked inwardly.

Did they really think he'd played along so nicely with the twins and Cedric on the train just because he was bored?

Well, partly it was because he was bored and wanted to mess around with fools—but also because he was setting a trap.

The hunt had begun!

While Professor McGonagall was still absent, Wayne quickly relayed everything the twins and Cedric had told him about the Sorting Ceremony. Where there were gaps in the story, he kindly filled them in with terrifying embellishments.

As Wayne spun his tale, the faces of the young witches and wizards grew paler and paler, their legs beginning to tremble.

Even those from pure-blood wizarding families weren't spared—Draco Malfoy's face was completely drained of color.

Sure, their parents had used tales of the Sorting Ceremony to scare them before—for fun—but never in this much detail!

By the end of Wayne's story, the group of kids looked like they could already feel the trauma of the ordeal awaiting them.

Ron muttered to himself, "It's over, it's over... I remember now—after first year, when Fred and George came home for the summer, they were both limping!"

"They must have gotten hurt during the Sorting and never fully recovered."

In reality, the twins had tried to sneak into the Forbidden Forest one last time and got chased halfway through it by Fang—spraining themselves in the process.

No one responded to Ron at this point. Harry had already fallen into a deep state of despair.

What now?

If he failed the test, would he have to go back to the cupboard at the Dursleys'?

After seeing the wonders of the magical world, he absolutely did not want to go back.

Wayne casually added with a sigh, "If it turns out to be too dangerous, I'll probably just give up and return to Harrow."

That line inspired a few of the Muggle-born kids too.

If it's really that bad... maybe we should give up?

"You—you're telling the truth?" Hermione was visibly shaken. She desperately hoped Wayne was lying.

"It's not me saying it—it's Cedric and Ron's brothers," Wayne corrected. "You probably don't know Cedric—he's been top of his year two years in a row. The ideal student, according to all the parents."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry. All hope drained from her face.

Creaaak—

The door to the room opened, and Professor McGonagall walked in—only to freeze in place.

What on earth had happened here?

New students were always a bit nervous, sure—but never like this!

This wasn't the Sorting Ceremony—any outsider might've thought they were heading for Louis XVI's guillotine.

Before she could say anything, a little witch ran over, tears brimming in her eyes, and asked:

"Professor McGonagall, can I choose to drop out?"

"What did you just say?" McGonagall could hardly believe her ears.

What had she just heard?

A student—wanting to drop out of Hogwarts?

"Me too!"

"Waaaah! Mummy, where are you? I wanna go home!"

Another four little wizards cried out. McGonagall's head swam, and a wave of panic surged in her chest.

Since Hogwarts was founded, there had been expulsions, transfers, even tragic student deaths…

But never—not once—had a student voluntarily asked to leave.

And now, she'd encountered five at once!

If this got out, how would the other wizarding schools view Hogwarts?

They'd be laughing at them for a hundred years!

"Why do you want to drop out? Were you bullied on the train? Tell me who it was and I'll take care of it," McGonagall asked in the gentlest tone she could manage, trying to sound warm and reassuring.

As the school's Deputy Headmistress, she absolutely couldn't allow such a disgraceful thing to happen. She had to calm these kids down.

The children all started talking at once, voices overlapping and chaotic.

It took McGonagall a while to untangle their words and piece together what they meant.

"So… you all want to drop out because you think the Sorting Ceremony might be dangerous, and you don't know any spells yet?" she asked, finally understanding.

The little wizards all nodded vigorously in unison.

Instantly, McGonagall's face flushed red with fury. "Who's been spreading these absurd rumors? Saying the Sorting Ceremony is dangerous—utter nonsense!"

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

In a flash, all eyes turned to Wayne, who was standing right in the middle.

McGonagall noticed immediately too. She glared at him and snapped, "Mr. Lawrence, are you the one scaring your classmates?"

"Professor McGonagall, I wasn't trying to scare anyone," Wayne replied, playing up his innocence with a pitiful expression. "I just wanted to tell everyone what to expect during the Sorting Ceremony so they could be prepared. What's wrong with that?"

"You can't just make things up like that! Trolls and ghouls? Really?"

"If we'd already Sorted the Houses, I'd be docking twenty points from yours right now!"

Wayne frowned in protest. "But I didn't make it up! A senior told me those things!"

"Which senior?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

Wayne answered without hesitation, "George Weasley. Fred Weasley. And Cedric Diggory."

At that moment, Professor McGonagall went completely numb.

Twins... you're both dead when I get my hands on you.