A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Dumbledore's cough was indeed effective. The Sorting Hat quickly straightened up and said:

"Tricky, very tricky... I see great courage, a not-so bad heart, immense talent, and a thirst for knowledge. But you're not exactly the most honest... Definitely not Hufflepuff…

"Well then, interesting… Where should I place you?"

William thought the Sorting Hat was probably like Ollivander, giving everyone a less than impressive sales pitch.

As the Sorting Hat pondered, a small spider hanging from a thread swayed before William's eyes.

It flailed its legs and frothed at the mouth, though William couldn't understand what it was trying to say.

Bored, William blew on the spider, sending it swinging like it was on a tiny swing. But the web didn't snap.

He reached out to flick the little creature away, but the Sorting Hat interrupted, "I'd advise against that. The little guy is a good friend of mine.

"His great-great-grandfather was an Acromantula named Aragog."

"Aragog?" William raised an eyebrow.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, Hagrid mentioned him once. Said Aragog was a gentle, kind magical creature and even offered to take me along to... groom his leg hair," William replied dryly.

In fact, William had looked up Acromantulas in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. They seemed pretty dangerous.

But trusting Hagrid blindly, as well as being a newcomer to the magical world, he had thought that the book's author, Newt Scamander, was simply exaggerating.

Since it was likely an exaggeration, William figured there was nothing to fear. Besides, Hagrid would be there to protect him, right?

William bent his index finger and flicked the little spider's abdomen. The web didn't break, but the spider was sent crashing into the Sorting Hat's "mouth."

The little spider let out a pitiful whimper and crawled back into the hat's folds, hiding in the fuzzy fabric.

The Sorting Hat was furious!

With a mischievous grin, it suddenly shouted, "Ha! William, how amusing! You Actually said Professor Snape looks like a greasy old bat!"

"..."

The entire Great Hall fell into dead silence. Snape's face turned deathly pale as he glared at William, gripping a strand of his black hair, which he had just yanked out in anger.

Fred, who had been sneakily opening a chocolate frog, trembled, causing the chocolate to fall onto the head of a nearby Niffler.

George looked at William with awe, like he was gazing at a hero!

But the term "hero" was often accompanied by the specter of death!

William wanted to throttle something—he was wrong, so utterly wrong.

The Sorting Hat shouldn't be cleaned with dish soap—it should have disinfectant poured right down its throat!

The Sorting Hat, having had its fun, lazily announced, "Ravenclaw."

William didn't even remember how he made his way to the Ravenclaw table. All he recalled was the cool breeze that evening.

Stars twinkled above, students smiled at him, but he was bewildered, dazed…

How had he, a perfectly ordinary first-year Ravenclaw, suddenly become the great hero of Gryffindor?

William was utterly baffled!

Cedric was in even more despair. Both Cho and William had been sorted into Ravenclaw, and now he seriously considered inquiring about the process for switching houses.

Once Uriel Alex was sorted into Slytherin, all the students were sorted, and Professor McGonagall rolled up the parchment and took away the Sorting Hat.

The hat, smug as ever, gave William a little smirk as it left.

Dumbledore stood up, beaming at the students and spreading his arms wide.

There seemed to be nothing that pleased him more than seeing all his students gathered together.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!

"I have only two words for you," his deep voice echoed in the hall, "Dig in!"

Suddenly, all the empty plates in front of them filled with food.

Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, steaks, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, chips, Yorkshire puddings…

It all looked impressive, but honestly, British food was more about appearances than taste. If you really wanted to eat well, William thought, nothing could beat Chinese food.

He poked at the sausage with onions and tomatoes on his plate, and for a moment, he found himself longing for steamed lamb, bear paws, deer tails, roast duck, roast chicken, roast goose…

Even though he had never actually eaten any of those!

Cho took a bite of her potato, then asked softly, "What just happened back there?"

William shook his head. "The Sorting Hat must be going through a midlife crisis."

"…"

A curly-haired witch nearby leaned over and warned, "You'd better be careful. Professor Snape is definitely going to come after you."

She glanced nervously toward the staff table, where Snape was glaring daggers in the direction of the Ravenclaw table.

Shuddering, she quickly lowered her head.

Penelope Clearwater, a fourth-year, was sharing this piece of internal gossip, and her words were usually reliable.

In his previous life, William had spent twelve years in school near his orphanage, from elementary to high school. New teachers always sought him out for information on the leadership.

And of course, information came in tiers—if you paid a small fee, you got basic intel. But if you wanted to know the leadership's preferences, you had to pay a premium.

So, if Penelope said Snape would target him, it was likely true.

That cursed Sorting Hat! He swore he'd fill it with Lao Gan Ma chili sauce one day and then soak it in a salt bath!

The food at Hogwarts wasn't bad—there weren't too many horrifying dishes, and the portions were generous. It was the kind of meal where you'd eat until you had to lean on the walls to walk out.

After the last dessert disappeared from the table, Dumbledore stood up again, and the hall fell silent.

"Now that we've all eaten and drunk to our hearts' content, I have a few more words to say."

"At the start of the term, I'd like to remind you of some important rules.

"First-year students should note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits to all students. Some of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling gaze flicked toward the Weasley twins.

"Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic should not be used in the corridors between classes, and fire-smoke bombs are strictly prohibited."

"And finally, allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

"Professor Tywin!"

A tall, handsome wizard stood up next to Hagrid.

This wizard appeared to be in his early thirties, with flowing blonde hair, striking pale green eyes, and a sharp, predatory smile.

Snape ran a hand through his greasy black hair, a sneer flashing across his face.

Dumbledore clapped, and the rest of the hall followed suit, especially many of the young witches, who were particularly enthusiastic with their applause.

Once the applause died down, Dumbledore beamed. "Now, before we all head off to bed, let's sing the school song!"

Every teacher's smile immediately stiffened, especially Professor McGonagall's.

She seemed ready to discreetly cast a Muffliato charm, but Dumbledore's sharp eyes caught her just in time.

With a gentle smile, Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a long golden ribbon unfurled, twisting and turning like a snake above the high tables, displaying the lyrics for all to see—just like a karaoke machine.

Grasping his wand like a conductor's baton, Dumbledore said, "Everyone, pick your favorite tune. Ready… sing!"

And so, the entire hall erupted into song:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling,

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.